From this basin our path led along some shelving banks of shingle to a small flat called Kúhov. We camped here on some stubble-fields of Indian-corn and sesame, having marched twelve miles. There is no village here, but there are several small strips of corn-fields on the ledges bordering the bed of the rivulet. In a secluded nook amongst the hills close to our camp we found a temporary settlement of Zangíjo Brahoe, dependants of the Mír of Kotra. There were about twenty-four booths, ranged in two parallel rows. They were formed of palm-leaf mats, spread upon a light framework supported on sticks, and had a very flimsy appearance, and certainly provided the minimum amount of shelter. They are here called _kirrí_, and the only merit they possess is their portability. Their occupants were extremely poor and dirty, but they appeared healthy and happy, and are certainly hardy. During the cold weather they move about amongst the lower valleys and glens with their cattle and flocks, and in the spring move up for the summer months to the higher tablelands about Calát. On the line of march we passed a káfila of eighty camels, laden with dates from Panjgúr to Kotra, under charge of a party of Bizanjo Brahoe, most of whom were armed with sword and matchlock. The camels were of a small breed, but very handsome and clean-limbed; some of them were nearly of a white colour. We found no supplies were procurable at Kúhov, not even forage for our cattle. Our conductor, Pír Ján, however, had been roused to a proper sense of his duties by the reprimand he got yesterday, and our requirements were consequently anticipated and provided for beforehand. Our next stage was sixteen miles to Hatáchi. The path, leading at first south and then south-west, winds along the pebbly bed of the pass, and crosses its stream several times _en route_. The rise is very gradual, and the hills approach and diverge alternately, forming a succession of basins connected together by narrow straits. About half-way we came to a long strip of sprouting corn in the midst of a great belt of tamarisk jangal, which occupies the greater, portion of the pass. This patch of cultivation is called Páni Wánt, “the division of the waters;” and scattered about amidst the fields are a few huts of the Músiyáni Brahoe, dependants of the chief of Zehrí. Beyond Páni Wánt we passed through a narrow gap between lofty walls of perpendicular rock, in laminated horizontal strata, much fissured and weather-worn, and entered the wide basin of Jáh—that is to say, wide compared with the rest of the pass. Here too there is a good deal of corn cultivation, and along the foot of the hills in sheltered nooks were some small encampments of the Chanál Brahoe.