We had all dismounted at the instant the Elchee did, and after mutual introduction the whole party were again on their march, the Elchee and Nou Rôz Khan riding exactly parallel, and their attendants a little in the rear, nearer or more remote, according to their respective ranks. On the plain which we passed, before coming to the capital, some of the guards of the king displayed their skill in horsemanship. They threw the Jerreed[120] at each other with excellent aim; and it was often only avoided by extraordinary activity, the horseman sometimes to all appearance throwing himself from his horse, while the jerreed whizzed over him. Another exercise, called the Doghela-Bâzee, is performed by the rider holding a stick little more than a yard long in his hand, one end of which he throws with great force on the ground, on the near side of the horse when at full gallop; the direction given by this stroke causes it to rebound over the horse's head, and the rider catches it while yet whirling round in the air. But of all these exhibitions, that which pleased me most was the skill they displayed as marksmen. When at full speed, the rider throws a lemon over his head, and twisting his body completely round to the left, fires at it from the off-flank of the horse,[121] almost always with good aim, and often hitting it. This appeared to me, as combining the different motions of the horse, the rider, and the lemon, quite wonderful, but, like other surprising feats, it is the result of constant practice; for the child in Persia commences this exercise at six or seven years of age, and it is never abandoned, while there is strength left to sit upon a horse and to pull a trigger. The crowds of people we now saw announced that we were in the suburbs of Teheran. I heard Aga Meer whisper the Elchee, "You have yet ten minutes,--a little slower." "Quicker!" was afterwards pronounced in an under tone. Again I heard "Slower!" then "Now!" and the charger of the Elchee put his foot over the threshold of the gate of Teheran. "Al hamd-ool-illâh! Thanks be to God!" said the Meer, with a delighted countenance; "it was the very moment,--how fortunate!" This joy, and the expression of it, told all to Nou Rôz Khan, who evidently deemed the proceeding as a matter of course; and when he heard the name of the astrologer who was consulted at Isfahan, he seemed to think, after such a happy moment of arrival, there could be no doubt of the fulfilment of his predictions. This sentiment was general among the Persians in our suite. Some of them might have doubted the sincerity of the Elchee's belief in the occult sciences, but even these were pleased at the consideration given to what he deemed their prejudices.