Rest, however, was rudely interrupted by the sudden rise of the hot north-east wind, here called the “rashaba,” which blows from the hills with the force of a gale. This, coming suddenly, and across newly mown fields, smothered us with chaff and dust, which was followed by a sharp rain-shower which drove us to shelter, and we did not finally sleep till the sky was clear, about midnight. CHAPTER XII LIFE IN SULAIMANIA Matti came in early next morning, and with porters we took away the goods and deposited them in the new house, where we found two or three buyers of my merchandise waiting. These chose the skins of “run” they desired, and having at last settled a price which gave me a profit of some twenty-five per cent., we repaired to the shop of one of them to have the goods weighed by a public weigher. When we arrived that functionary was not forthcoming, so I installed myself in the grocer’s shop, high up above the raisins, almonds, walnuts, and spices that he sold, and smoked cigarettes while he vended and attempted to carry on a conversation with me in Persian, of which he knew a little. It had often been a mystery to me how a retail grocer made his money; but now, being a wholesale dealer in an article he sold retail, I saw the game, which he was frank enough to display. His scales were not of the fairest, to start with, and when weighing, he would, when possible, leave in the pan the heavy wooden spoon with which he ladled out the grease. If a large amount were required there would be a haggle over the price, and the buyer probably got his purchase at a reasonable weight, but the small buyer who came for a few ounces was invariably defrauded, either by the calculation of the price, which he probably could not work out, or by the deficient amount given him. And so with three shahis worth of raisins, or the kran’s worth of almonds, which the grocer handed to the buyer in a long spoon which reached the remotest basin without necessitating his moving. In no shops in Kurdistan, except the drug and spice sellers, is anything wrapped up, and this habit makes a handkerchief the most essential part of a man’s gear. To buy in the bazaar one goes provided with at least three handkerchiefs, if the mixing of dates, meat, and fruit in one handkerchief is to be avoided. Hama at last found a weighing man, who appeared with an immense steelyard supported upon a long pole, to carry which two porters had to be called, each with an end upon his shoulder. The weights were entered in a little book, and the names of the buyers, sellers, and material under them. We then made up the account, and having paid the weighing fee, half each, settled down to counting out twelve hundred krans, in two-kran pieces, a process that took half an hour, with the examination for bad and cracked coins. This done, we left, with expressions of esteem on both sides, the money wrapped in the ever-necessary handkerchief.