The free press. (Poplarville, Miss.) 1890-19??, 1893-11-23
TREBIZOND.
Vivid Pictures of Life in a Persian
City.
The BazarS, the Tea Gardens and
the Camel Trains,

Trebizond is a city of some thirty
thousand inhabitants. Persia begins
here, practically if not politically, and
the road from Trebizond, through En-
zeroum, to Tabreez, or Tauris, the
largest city in Persia, is undoubtedly
the oldest caravan route in the world.
All the merchandise from the north OF
Persia to western Europe and England
passes over it, and the return traffic is
equally important. The time OF tran
sit is rather uncertain. We were told
in Tabreez that it often took three
months from Persia to the Black Sea
by camel caravans, which usually
travel by night, and rest during the
day. When they reach a grassy nook,
or fertile hollow high among the hills
the beasts are unloaded and turned out
to pasture, while the drivers light their
camp-hres and brazen samovars under
roughly extemporized shelters of rugs
and hempen mats, erected among the
square bales of merchandise packed at
Tabreez or Teheran.
The main bazaar of TrebiZond, which
is interesting on account OF its pro-
ducts from the East and the far West,
has one long artery partly rooted over,
and some narrower parallel veins of
commerce struggling up and down the
hill tits particularly rich in the en-
broidered bags and saddlery and the
roughly picturesque mule trappings Of
Asia Minor and Kurdistan. Here,
too, are weapons of every description,
from the silver-hilted pistols and
swords left by the Kurdish cavaliers,
to the latest Martini and Winchester
rifles. The genuine Smith d Wesson
revolver is not rare, but more frequent
still is the clever imitation made in
Russian workshops.
| In the center of the town is small
parklike enclosure, much frequented
by resident Persians as a tea-garden,
! and nothing stronger than effervescent
| lemonade is sold there. Near by are
several great caravansaries with court
wards. where the "arabas" and other
quaint vehicles from the interior are
put up. A winding road bordered by
pleasant gardens and cemeteries with
venerable black expresses leads to the
hills high above the bay. Down this
road come the Kurdish horsemen and
the long camel trains led by fat-faced
and ruddy Tartar drivers, their sun
burnt cheeks shaded by shaggy peaked
caps of camel's-hair or sheepskin The
leading camel, always majestic brute,
carries his head proudly aloft, decora-
ted with ponderous mass OF colored
tassels and jingling bells.
A favorite resort in the late after
noon is little Persian tea-garden by
the roadside, looking down on the
harbor and the distant town. The
view is like a vignette, framed by trel-
lises with vine leaves and the dropping
fronds of the weeping willow. Pink
rhododendrons and white-howering
shrubs are set in moss-cOvered pots
and boxes. A rude projecting balcony,
higher up, over the shrubbery, is fire.
qnented by Turks, whose turbaned
heads cut like black silhouettes against
the pale orange of the evening sky.
Only tea is served here, and the wait
ers are two Persian boys, who bring it
in small glass cups, together with
burning Goals in metal trays, for the
kalyans and cigarettes of the loungers
at the little round tables. A row OF
distant and slender expresses of inky
blackness is pencilled against the sky.
i Harper's Magazine.