At length it became so serious that in our mohulla (or quarter) seventy-two bodies were washed for the grave in one morning (there are twenty mohullas in Shiraz). Of course in an Eastern town it is difficult to get at facts, but this one was sufficiently alarming, unburied bodies lay in rows in the cemeteries. After a consultation with Captain St. J⸺ it was decided to go into camp. By the energy of Mirza Hassan Ali Khan, British Agent, in getting mules, in a few hours we all cleared out of the town and encamped in Government tents in the bed of the river some two miles out. There the night was spent, and next morning the whole of the staff and their servants moved to the banks of a river near Khana Zinyun, quite away from human habitation, in cool and good air, taking with them what tents they could carry and leaving one of the inspectors and myself to take down the rest of them, bring on the heavy baggage, and bury a muleteer who had died in the night. We had some difficulty in getting this latter done, as the natives were in what is termed a “blue funk” and wouldn’t touch the poor fellow. Just as we were sitting down to breakfast Mr. P⸺, a Scotch merchant of Bushire, turned up; he was surprised to find us, and had just arrived post from Ispahan. He took breakfast with us, but on hearing what had occurred in the night he declined our further hospitality and started off at once. By midnight we got all the things to the camp and established a strict quarantine; we stayed out three weeks. While we were in camp a curious incident occurred. I saw a well-dressed Persian riding in our direction. I hurried out on my horse and explained to him that he couldn’t enter our camp. He said that he was ill and wanted the English doctor. Of course I prescribed for him, and his servant proceeded to make him comfortable under a tree (the weather was warm). Next morning when I went to see him no one was there, but the servant’s clothes lay on the ground. He _may_ have died in the night and the servant may have decamped with his clothes, arms, and horse; but what did he do with the body? The river would not have carried it away, and he could not have buried it without tools; he may have carried it off on the horse, or the master may not have died, but ridden away; but why the clothes? who knows? But a Persian servant does not throw away a suit of clothes for nothing. We returned to the town without any casualties among the staff or their servants.