red mountains of Tabris and on them the dark patch of the big city oasis. It was hard for us to have to descend so close to today's goal into the uninhabited country, into the treeless desert or steppe without a village and a house. The pilot was already beginning to battle with the machine, it roared down so that the earth seemed to fall towards us. We traced some large curves, then the engine suddenly stopped completely, the ears were still pounding, one more circle and we're touching down for a gentle landing. The spot we chose was nice and flat like no other airfield. In an instant we jumped to the ground; welcomed by a sweltering heat, which we felt twice as much after the cool mountain air. "Can we fix it?" I asked. “Yes, a few hours of work and then we'll get through to Tabris.” First we sat down with the provisions we had taken with us and tucked in. The water, which had become lukewarm, did not make a particularly tasty drink. The only shadow, as far as could be seen, was provided by the plane's wings, under which we wanted to settle. But a spot for us to sit had to be prepared beforehand, for the endless plains of Asia are always covered with small tufts of dry desert herbs, which are strongly fragrant but sprouting with small thorns all over. It was the same here. We set about clearing and soon had our fingers full of poisonous thorns. Then we tried with shoes. They became badly scratched. In the end nothing helped but tools from the plane. We looked around while we ate. There was nothing to be seen to indicate people, only distant treetops sticking out of a bump in the ground. On the other hand, we had roused large herds of gazelles, which rushed off in all directions in hundreds in clouds of dust. A hot wind blew across the country, ripped dry herbs out of the earth, whirled them up, little dusty clouds sprang up everywhere, some thin, gigantic ones hovered brown-yellow far away over the desert. Then our on-board mechanic went to work, which was made particularly difficult by two circumstances. First of all, in a short time the scorching sun had heated the metal machine to the point where you could hardly touch it, and secondly we didn't have pith helmets with us. Working on the engine, protected only by a cap against the Asian fire of the day star was therefore a real agony. We tied a kind of neck protection out of handkerchiefs, but that didn't help much. The strong wind kept blowing the cloth to the side. Suddenly we saw a point emerging from a crack in the earth to the south. A rider galloped towards us. In twenty minutes he reached us and circled the plane in a wide arc three times, apparently transfixed by the miracle that had just fallen from the sky. Only then did he answer our questions, but unfortunately in an incomprehensible language that was neither Persian nor Turkish. But he immediately understood the word chai, tea, and the movement of eating and drinking. He laughed and sped off on his horse in the greatest haste. Half an hour later, a whole host of small, black spots appeared in the distance, heading towards us. They arrived, in rural dress, strong fellows, tanned darkly, with good-natured, intelligent faces, some on mules, others on donkeys or horses, some in pairs, chatting and gesticulating among themselves, all extremely excited about this outrageous experience. Each one carried something to help us. One had a basket of melons, another a net of peaches, several with pitchers of water. A particularly caring one dragged a samovar, they brought meat and rice and tea, pickles and charcoal. Nothing was missing, everything was thought of. Soon a smouldering fire was burning made of desert herbs, the roast smelled deliciously in our noses, although we had already refreshed ourselves with the magnificent fruits. In the meantime, a blue-clad gendarme with a rifle and a whip had also appeared. He spoke some Persian and immediately remembered his duty to keep order and keep the people crowded around the plane at a respectable distance. Because everyone had to touch the metal and feel it, tap it and look into the cabin. The mouths didn't stand still for a moment, the words "Aftomobil" and "Ballon" kept coming back; it's a pity we didn't understand what was being said, we would certainly have learned a lot that was new to us. When the fitter reported that the machine was ready, the roast was done. We were so stuffed with the food that we forgot all about the sun and heat and the nasty storm. The astonished faces of the people who now squatted on the ground in dozens around us and to whom our handling of forks seemed particularly astonishing increased our appetite. You should have seen them when the propeller was fired up for a test run! They behaved like madmen, the gendarme and I had the greatest trouble driving them out of the danger zone. We were ready to go and wanted to pay. Everyone refused to accept money, and it was difficult for us to at least slip
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