The poet, after bewailing the death of Kai Kubád and that an evil shoot should spring from so good a root, tells how Kai Káús was seduced by a dív into invading Mázandarán, how he and all his host were taken captive and blinded by the White Dív, how Rustam went to their rescue, what adventures befell him by the way, and how he delivered the Sháh and host.

Mázandarán, the ancient Hyrcania, lay, in the scheme of the old cosmogony, beyond the limits of the Central Clime*

from which it was cut off by the great range of the Alburz Mountains, and extended from their northern scarp to the shores of the Caspian. Being abundantly supplied with moisture by the clouds which are stopped by, and the snow-fields which form upon, the Alburz Mountains, and the soil moreover being warmed by volcanic heat, the country is extremely fertile and the climate semi-tropical in character. “The lagunes of the coast are succeeded by marsh forests; higher up are fields of rice and plantations of sugar-cane, and beyond these fertile meadows, above which splendid forests of oaks, planes, and elms clothe the heights of Elburz. There is abundance of water fruits, figs and mulberries, olives and oranges, and the vigorous creepers of the vines run even to the summits of the trees.”*

On the other hand the climate is unhealthy and the air of the marshes blanches the inhabitants,*

who for this reason were known to the Iránians as white dívs or demons. They are referred to in the Zandavasta and in the Pahlaví texts. “These are the words,” we read in the former, with reference to a sacred formula which had to be recited several times, “that smite down Angra Mainyu,*

… these are the words that smite down the daévas of Mázana.”*

In the Dínkard they seem to be described as inhabiting burrows and caves, and as being of filthy habits.*

In the Sháhnáma we find this blanched race personified as the White Dív whom Rustam in his expedition into Mázandarán encounters in the cave.*

The approach to Mázandarán from Irán was difficult and romantic. Communication between western and eastern Írán depends on two routes which, branching from Tihrán, run to the south of, and parallel to, the Alburz range, an outlying spur of which they cross at two passes named the Firúzi Kuh and the Girduni Sirdarra respectively. At a distance of about seventy miles from Tihrán the route that runs through the Firúzi Kuh sends off a branch northward toward Mázandarán. This branch is a mere fissure, a few feet wide, in the mountain-wall, with a stream running at the bottom and water trickling down the precipitous sides, while here and there the fissure opens out into natural grottos and narrow valleys. This route, which abounds with game and is one of the favourite hunting-grounds of the Sháhs, is known as the Girduni S??wachi. Sub-equently the pass of the Firúzi Kuh, six miles to the east of the mountain of that name, after traversing a tremendous gorge, sends off another branch to Mázandarán of a somewhat less romantic character than that of the Girduni Sawachi, and runs on to Astrábád, whence also Mázandaran may be reached.*

It was on emerging from the gloom of one of these passes that Rustam, we may imagine, reached the smiling land where he encountered Úlád, whose account of the extent of Mázandarán is of course enormously exaggerated.*

The reader will see on looking at a map of Persia that Mázandarán is a region of quite moderate dimensions. Accuracy in matters geographical is not one of Fir-dausi's strong points.

With regard to Rustam's route we are told that by Zal's advice*

he took the short road, not the long one taken by Kai Káús. Of course he would not take the latter, for Kai Káús, we may presume, started from Istakhr in Párs, to the west of the central desert, while Rustam started from Zábul, to the east of it. Firdausí merely means to indicate that Rustam did not follow the ordinary route, but cut as the crow flies across the waste. This route took, we are told, fourteen days, but Rustam ??an a two days' journey into one and made seven stages of it, in the course of each of which he met with an adventure. This expedition of his is accordingly known as the “Haft Khwán,” the former word meaning seven and the latter the tray on which food is served up. His expedition therefore may be regarded as being a meal with seven courses. It has also been suggested that in the account of the seven build­ings of Kai Káús, described in Part II. § 8 of this reign, we have the origin of the Haft Khwán of Rustam, and also of the similar expedition, which occurs much later in the poem, of Asfandiyár against Arjásp.*

We may add that in the Pahlaví the word used for these build­ings is “mán.” “Mán” comes from the same root as our word “mansion.” In the Pahlaví form of the legend Rustam's expedi­tion may have been known as the Haft Mán. In the translations from the Pahlaví legend, if such existed, this would naturally become “Haft Khán,” the seven stopping-places or rest-houses, and this might easily be corrupted into the “Haft Khwán,” the seven meals partaken of therein. Our text, however, has “Haft Khwán,” which we translate “The Seven Courses,” keeping the collocation of “The Seven Stages” for the corresponding expedi­tion of Asfandiyár.

With regard to the opposition of the chiefs to the expedition of Kai Káús to Mázandarán as being unprecedented,*

we can only suppose it to be a rhetorical flourish put into their mouths by the poet, who has already told us that Farídún and Minúchihr resided there.*

At the present day “Dív” is a title of honour among the nobles of that region.*