XVII.
FROM TEHERAN TO THE LAND OF THE TURKOMANS.

The sun had risen to the height of a lance, as the Orientals say, when I turned to give a last farewell look at Teheran, gilded by the early sun, whilst my companions, like pious pilgrims that they were, raised their voices and sang sacred songs. They did not take amiss my not joining them, for they knew that the people of Roum (the inhabitants of European Turkey) were not brought up in such a strict religious way as those of Turkestan, but they hoped that in their society I should soon learn to be more enthusiastic in religious observance.

DESCRIPTION OF THE CARAVAN.The caravan numbered twenty-three besides myself; they were all from Khokand and Eastern Turkestan, and mostly natives of Kashgar, Tashkend and Aksu. Their chiefs were Hadji Bilal, of whom I have already spoken, Hadji Sheikh Sultan Mahmud, a fanatic young Tarter, who traced his lineage from a renowned saint, and Hadji Sali Khalifa, who was endeavouring to obtain the rank of an Ishan (the title of Sheikh), and belonged to the half-priestly class. They honoured me with their friendship, and we four were looked upon as the chiefs of the caravan. My name henceforth ceased to be Reshid Effendi and became Hadji Reshid.

We proceeded without any misadventure along the continually rising heights of the mountain chain of Elburz. Kemerd was our first station. It offered nothing but a half-ruined hut of mud, in the middle of a desert, its weatherbeaten walls threatening to give way at any moment. The rain poured in through the chinks of the roof, and it was difficult to find a hand-breadth of dry ground. It was dusk when we arrived, and everybody hurried to get a dry place in the caravansary, myself amongst the pushing crowd. My friend Hadji Bilal set to preparing the pilar, and for want of fat, he poured on it grease obtained by melting down some tallow candles. I was of course invited to take my part of this luscious meal, but declined with thanks. Leaving the side of my kind friend, I went amongst the beggars and Persian mule-drivers, and drawing myself up into a corner, I thought, listening to the howling wind and beating rain outdoors in the dark night, of my present miserable condition, compared with that of last night at the palace of the Turkish Embassy, where I was sitting at a sumptuous farewell banquet, given in my honour, the wine glass freely circulating amongst my friends. And now I should have deemed myself happy if I had but room enough to stretch my limbs. To right and left of me fellows, ragged, dirty, ill-smelling and abounding in a variety of little rovers, were affectionately leaning on me; and, to cap the climax of my misery, a Persian mule-driver, afflicted with the gout, sat down near me, now moaning, now screaming with pain, whilst stentorian snoring was going on all around me. My clothes were soaking wet with the rain, and I myself was wet to the skin and shivering as if with a fit of ague. No wonder I could not close my eyes all night, and felt so weak next morning that I could hardly keep my seat decently in the saddle.

A DERVISH FEAST.

We passed the following night much more comfortably in a village called Ghilar. We divided into smaller troops, and I joined Hadji Bilal and his intimates. We found quarters in a small room belonging to a peasant, my friend inviting me again to take supper with him. This time I bravely got over my squeamishness; my ravenous appetite made me indulgent towards the nasty smell of the dish and the dirty hands of my companions, who were using them vigorously in helping themselves out of our common plate. The following morning I rose with renewed strength, after a refreshing sleep, and began, with less anxiety, to look the future in the face.

INCOGNITO UNVEILED.I was considerably amused by the remarks made regarding myself by some Persian villagers, who, with clownish sharp-sightedness, were quick to discover that I was neither a Tartar, nor even an Osmanli, but a Frengi body and soul, availing myself of the society of dervishes in order to visit Central Asia, a land almost inaccessible to Europeans. But of these their surmises they never betrayed a single word to my companions; the Persian Shi-ites' hatred of the Sunnite Central-Asians being such that nothing affords them greater pleasure than to see their mortal enemies imposed upon.

On the fourth day we reached an elevated plateau on which the town of Firuzkuh lies at the foot of a mountain topped by a fine ruin. I was charmed by the beauty of both the town and the surrounding country, the houses especially challenging my admiration for the neatness of their architecture. A wide and deep mountain stream winds through the little town in three different directions. Many and large caravans carry from this place oranges, water-melons, sugar-canes, and other products of the Caspian Sea, to Shahrud and Teheran, returning heavily laden with corn, an article of food almost entirely wanting in this mountainous region.

Beyond Firuzkuh our road took us through a most romantic country. The dense forests, spreading endlessly, the far-sounding roar of the huge mountain cataracts, the bottomless abyss yawning between precipitous mountain sides—made me at times almost imagine I saw the most beautiful Alpine scenery of Europe before me. Even my companions, whose sense of appreciation of the beauties of nature was but slightly developed, became quite enthusiastic. We breakfasted near the ruins of Div-Sefid (i.e., the white spirit), crowning a rocky peak. One of our Persian fellow-travellers remarked that this rocky habitation in the air was once the favourite resort of the White Giant whom Rustem (the hero of Oriental legends) conquered and drove to the shores of the Caspian Sea; that spirits of the deep then inhabited alone this paradise-like country; and that it was fortunate that there were heroes at that time who could expel these spirits, for surely the modern Persians would be wanting in strength and courage to accomplish the deed.

The Persian travellers who had come with us as far as Surkh-Abad, i.e., Red Abode, there took leave of us. The abundant wood and excellent water we found caused immense delight to my Tartars. Whilst at other times six and eight of them would cook by one fire, now each of them kindled a separate fire whereby to prepare his tea. They made use of the very embers, by divesting themselves of their clothes, and two of them holding and drawing tight a piece of clothing at a time over the fire, whilst a third would gently beat it with a small stick. The whole proceeding seemed to me rather mysterious at first, but a peculiar sound, now crackling, now hissing, soon showed that this was a mode of putting to death by fire victims innumerable. The practice, when I first saw it, filled me with disgust; the time arrived, nevertheless, when, for cleanliness' sake, I indulged in it as zealously as any of those present. We were nearly exhausted by our long march on bad roads, and as soon as the dusk of evening approached we were all of us looking for some place to rest in. We should have stopped at many a place in the woods if some Persians had not warned us that the forest was full, particularly at this season, of wild animals who, driven by their predatory instincts, will at night attack strongly built houses, not to speak of human beings camping in the open air. We were especially warned against tigers. In spite of fatigue we were compelled to march on in the woods until late in the night, when we came near several groups of houses, standing apart and called Heftten; we settled down near them on the margin of the forest. We decided to keep up a large fire during the whole night, and that each of us should in turn keep watch near the fire. Our nightly fire soon lit up the entire landscape; but the thicket close to us still resounded with the stealthy tread and deep roar of our ferocious enemies. A herd of hungry wild boars were looking out for their prey, and the only way to keep them off was by discharging at intervals our fire-arms at them. THIEVING JACKALS.The jackals showed most remarkable impudence; they would come quite near us and gambol around us like so many domestic animals, not even minding our sticks. These animals will watch you when you are too absorbed in conversation to keep your eyes on your food or clothing, and catlike pounce upon either, in an unguarded moment, and run away with it. The night passed, however, without any mishap. On the following day I bought for a penabad (about two pence and a half) ten large fine and savoury pheasants. My Tartar companions, too, bought a good many, there being a drug of them in the place; owing to their inability to rise in the air in the dense woods, they are killed with sticks by the thousand. For days the excellent roast, furnished by their succulent and finely flavoured flesh, supplied the place of bread, which is very expensive.

We entered Sari, which rises in the middle of a marshy country, covered with mud from head to foot, owing to the miserable roads on which we had to pass. The inhabitants, Persian Shi-ites, laughed at our sad appearance, and a troop of urchins pursued us with insults and cries, until we reached the gate of the caravansary. On entering the bazaar, several men, in red-striped costumes and with peculiar head-gears, stood still at our approach, raising their hands and looking at us with great respect. They were Turkomans, residing here, who wished to receive from us, their Sunnite brethren, just come from the Holy Land, a fatiha3 (blessing) while it was still fresh. We had passed scarcely an hour at the caravansary when a number of others made their appearance, bringing with them gifts of food for ourselves and our animals. One of them paid his respects to me, and, following the example of my companions, I gave him a blessing, which he rewarded by a gift of tobacco worth a couple of shillings. I afterwards told Hadji Bilal of it, and he took occasion to remark at this with brightening eyes: "Yes, Effendi, we shall be free before long; we are coming to the land of the Turkomans, our brethren in faith, and as much distinction is awaiting us there as we have to suffer shame, contumely and contempt at the hands of the Persians." I had become such a Sunnite, by this time, that his words caused me real pleasure; forgetting, as all the while I did, the frightful stories I had heard about the savageness and cruelty of the inhabitants of the desert.

We passed two days in Sari. My companions were busy trying to sell their asses, for we were to embark at the next station and wished to avoid the trouble of shipping and taking the animals with us. In Sari we became acquainted with several distinguished members of the Afghan colony, and immediately on our arrival were invited by them to supper. There happened to be other guests, merchants from Karatape, whilst we were there, and our Afghan brethren warmly recommended them to the whole caravan. These men served us, with the greatest alacrity, as guides to their native place.

Karatape owes its name to the black hill standing in the centre of the village, one side of it being inhabited by Persians and the other by Afghans. The first thing I did was to climb this hill in order to take a passing glance at the Caspian Sea. From this spot the open sea cannot be seen, it being concealed by a long and narrow strip of land, running far into the sea, and looking, at a distance, like a line wooded with tall trees. All I could descry was the sheet of water between this line and the shore. I then hurried back to my lodgings to see how the preparations for our passage to the Turkoman desert were progressing. After a good deal of inquiry we heard on the following evening that a Turkoman was about to sail directly for Gomushtepe, and was willing, from feelings of kindness, to take all the hadjis with him. He wished us to be ready on the shore early in the morning so as to be able to take advantage of a favourable breeze. Hadji Bilal, Hadji Salih, and myself, the acknowledged triumvirate of the beggar-caravan, immediately went in search of the Turkoman whose name was Yakub. We found him to be a young man still, with an air of boldness about him. He immediately embraced every one of us, and declared himself willing to wait another day in order that we might procure the necessary articles of food. We had here to provide ourselves with flour, rice and other sustenance to last as far as Khiva; the Turkomans themselves coming to this place to make their purchases. Before all, Yakub asked a blessing of Hadji Bilal and Hadji Salih, and as we were turning to leave he called me aside and asked me to remain a few minutes longer. Of course I remained. UNREQUITED LOVE.He confided to me, with some embarrassment, a case of unhappy and unrequited love, of which he was the victim, and that a very clever sorcerer, a Jew who happened to be just then in Karatape, had promised to prepare for him a very powerful nuskha (talisman) if he would take to him thirty drops of oil of roses fresh from Mecca, which were absolutely necessary for the writing of the magic formula. "I know," continued Yakub, "that the hadjis bring with them oil of roses and other fragrant articles, and, thou being the youngest of the chiefs of the caravan, I apply to thee and hope thou wilt comply with my request." Our companions had, in truth, brought with them oil of roses, and they at once gave him what he had asked for, to the great delight of the good youth.

Early in the morning of the following day we were all assembled on the shore. We now had each of us, besides our beggars' bags, a sack of flour, and, owing to the shallowness of the shore and the consequent distance of the vessel, which lay about a mile off the land, it took considerable time before we were all of us safely carried by boat to the vessel. The craft was a so-called keseboy, carrying a mast and one sail, and engaged in carrying freight; she had brought oil of naphtha, pitch and salt from the island of Tchereken, and was now sailing back freighted with a small cargo of produce. We had to sit in two rows, close to each other, in order to allow Yakub and his two men space enough easily to move about. Our situation was not of the pleasantest; it was tolerable during the day, but when at night we were oppressed by sleep, we were often compelled to support the burden of a snoring hadji for hours. Two sleepers together would sometimes lean on me, one from the right and another from the left, yet I dared not wake them, for it is considered a great sin to disturb the slumbers of the Faithful.

A favourable westerly wind swelled our sail on the 10th of April, and I enjoyed the sail in the magnificent spring weather as well as I could in my cramped position. A calm set in towards evening; we anchored near the shore, and each of us in turn prepared his tea at the fireplace of the vessel. We arrived on the following day below Ashurada, which forms the southernmost point of Russia's possessions in Asia. The place makes a favourable impression upon the traveller coming from Persia. One small and two large Russian men-of-war are permanently in the harbour, for the defence of the Russians in Ashurada and the sailing vessels bound for the place. THE SLAVE TRADE.It happened more than once that, in spite of the strenuous exertions of the military Russian governor, a great number of unfortunate Persians, and not unfrequently Russian sailors, too, were dragged in chains into slavery to Gomushtepe. The Russian vessels are cruising day and night in the Turkoman waters, and every Turkoman vessel, coming from the eastern shore and bound for the shores of Southern Persia, must provide itself with a passport, which must be produced in passing Ashurada. At such times the vessel is carefully searched for slaves, arms and other articles forbidden to be carried.

Our Yakub, too, had his papers, which he produced on the evening we arrived at Ashurada, in order that we might go on without further delay. But it being rather late in the evening, the Russian officer put off his visit to the vessels till next morning. We cast anchor not far from the shore. I was uneasy all night at the thought of these Russian officers coming to-morrow to make their visit on board, and possibly being struck by my European features and complexion. I was not afraid of any inhuman treatment, but I feared they might wish me to give up my journey and discover my identity to my companions. The pleasant sound of church bells roused me next morning. My companions told me that this was the Sunday of the infidels and their holiday. One of the men-of-war in our neighbourhood was beflagged all over. I observed, after a while, that a boat, manned by sailors in full uniform, was sent from her to the shore, and returned to the ship immediately with an officer in full uniform. In about ten minutes we were called upon to draw nearer to the Russian vessel, and I perceived that several fair-haired officers were standing near the gangway. The nearer I approached the faster beat my heart, and I tried, as well as I could, to place myself in such a way as not to have to meet their eyes. The day being a holiday the search was made very superficially, their interpreter exchanging a few words with Yakub, whilst the officers were making fun of our party of beggars. I heard one of them say: "Just look, how white this hadji's complexion is," referring in all probability to me whose face was less weatherbeaten and tanned than my companions. Yakub was soon allowed to leave; and, weighing anchor, our vessel, favoured by a fair breeze, bravely ploughed the waters. In a few hours the Turkoman sea-shore, looking like a long, moderately undulating line, rose before our eyes. Yakub and his men took in the sail, the water ceasing to be navigable. We were about a mile and a half from the mouth of the Gorghen, along the two shores of which stretches the camp, called Gomushtepe, presenting the appearance of a dense mass of beehives placed close to each other.

XVIII.
GOMUSHTEPE.

RECEIVING THE PILGRIMS.The dusk of evening was approaching when we arrived, tired and exhausted, at Khandjan's tent, hoping to get a little rest. Vain hope! True, there was the tent destined for us, standing near that of Khandjan, on the shore of the Gorghen, but scarcely had we taken possession of it, with the customary ceremony of walking thrice round it and spitting at each of the four corners, than visitors came crowding into the narrow space. They remained till late in the evening asking us thousands of questions which it taxed our whole strength to answer properly. Our host at length took pity on us, and called upon our visitors to leave us to ourselves in order that we might obtain some rest. Supper, consisting of boiled fish and sour milk, was brought us meanwhile by Khandjan's son, a boy twelve years old, called Baba Djan—i.e., literally, the father's soul. The meal was brought into the tent on a large wooden platter by a Persian slave, who dragged a heavy chain after him. He was relieved of the dish by Baba Djan, who placed it before us, and sat down by his father's side, while both looked at us with genuine satisfaction as we fell to with our keen appetites upon the dishes before us. After the meal was over we said our prayers in the customary way. Hadji Bilal raised his hands, every one present following his example, and as he finished by passing his hand over his beard and saying, "Bismillah," Allah Ekber, his action was repeated by everybody. Then Khandjan was congratulated on all sides on account of his guests, and the visitors dispersed.

On the following morning, the 13th of April, as I awoke thoroughly refreshed and invigorated by a night's sound sleep on a tolerably comfortable couch, I found Hadji Bilal standing by my side and was invited by him to take a walk. HOW TO BECOME A DERVISH.During the walk he sermonized me a little, telling me that it was time I should doff the rank of Effendi, and become a dervish body and soul. "Thou must have observed," he continued, "that both I and all our companions, without distinction of age, have said our fatiha (blessing) on the men. This thou too must now look to. I know that it is not the custom to do so in Roum, but here people will wish it of thee, and they will find it very strange that thou, professing to be a dervish, dost not fulfil the duties of a dervish. Thou knowest the form of blessing; utter it with confidence and a proper expression of devoutness. Thou mayest bestow the nefes (holy breath) too, if called to the bedside of the sick; but ever remember to hold out thy hand, for well do these people know that we dervishes live by our holy trade, and that a present is never amiss with us." He then asked my pardon for having dared to instruct me, but, added, that he meant it for my best. I need not say that I felt much obliged to him for his advice and observations, which were prompted by the genuine interest he took in me.

On this occasion my friend told me also that Khandjan and other Turkomans had been inquiring about me, with a peculiarly mysterious air, and that he succeeded, with great difficulty only, in persuading them that my journey possessed no official character whatever. The Turkomans thought I was going to Khiva and Bokhara on some secret and confidential anti-Russian mission of the Sultan. Hadji Bilal was too sensible to flatly contradict their impressions in the matter, well knowing that they hold the Sultan in high respect, and that I should be benefited by making them think more highly of me.

We returned to our quarters, and found Khandjan with his whole family, his relations and numerous friends, already waiting for us. He brought to us his wife and his aged mother, to obtain for them our blessing. We blessed everybody present, one by one. Khandjan then declared that, guests being according to Turkoman custom the dearest members of the family, we could go about without let or hindrance not only amongst his tribe, the Kelte, but also amongst that of Yomut, and that if any of them should so much as dare to touch a hair of our heads, he would know how to obtain satisfaction for such an outrage. "You must remain with us two weeks longer, at least," continued our host, "until some caravan happens to go to Khiva. Take now your rest, visit the other tents; a Turkoman never allows a dervish to leave his tent with an empty hand, and it will do you no harm to fill your bread-sacks well, for it is a long journey from here to Khiva and Bokhara."

We gladly followed his advice. During the first day I went visiting at several of the tents, in the company of Khandjan, or his brother and friends of the family. Later on I went with Hadji Bilal, bestowing blessings, or visiting the sick in company of Hadji Salih, who dabbled considerably in the art of healing. Whilst he gave the medicine, I bestowed the blessing on the patient, and was rewarded for it by the gift of a small piece of cloth, dried fish and other trifles. Whether it was owing to my successful cures or to the curiosity of the people to see the hadji from Roum, I do not know, but certain it is that patients came flocking to me, and I treated them by either bestowing my blessing upon them, or breathing upon them, or writing talismans for them. Here and there sceptical people thought me a political emissary and strongly doubted my dervishship, but I paid very little attention to them.

The number of my acquaintances was daily increasing, the most prominent people being amongst them. LEARNING IN THE WILDS.The friendship of Kizil Akhond, whose real name was Mollah Murad, proved to be of particularly great service to me. The recommendations of this distinguished scholar, who was universally respected, opened the way everywhere. He had in his possession a book which he got, while studying in Bokhara, treating of Mohammedan theology, written in Ottoman-Turkish, which he found some difficulty in understanding; and I had a chance of obliging him by furnishing the proper key to it. He was very much pleased with my conversation, and spoke everywhere in the highest terms of me, especially praising me for my great knowledge of the books of Islam. I managed to secure the kind feelings of Satligh Akhond, another highly respected priest. When I first met him he gave thanks to Providence, in a special prayer, for having permitted him to behold, in my person, a Mussulman from Roum, the true source of the faith; and upon people commenting in his presence on the whiteness of my complexion, he insisted that this was the real nur-ul-Islam, the light of Islam shining from my face, and was by the blessing of God the birthright of the Western faithful only. Nor did I fail to cultivate the friendship of Mollah Durdis, who was invested with the rank of a chief judge (Kazi Kelan), for I soon found out that the ulemas were the only class who could exercise any influence over this savage people. As a sort of scholar, I, too, shared in the general esteem, and may cite, in point, the following instance. There were ancient Grecian ruins on the territory of Gomushtepe, probably of a fort built by Alexander the Great, which gave a name to the settlement. These ruins contain the only stone walls to be met with in the whole neighbourhood. It was considered proper, Gomushtepe being the principal settlement of the Yomuts, to raise there a temple to God, built of stone, particularly as the materials necessary for the same were furnished in abundance at the ruins near by. I was selected by Kizil Akhond, in my capacity of the most learned and experienced dervish, to determine the place and the proper position, in the direction of Mecca (Kibla), of the altar (mihrab), a task which I very readily accomplished.

In the company of Kizil Akhond, I made an excursion, occupying four days, into the territory of one of the tribes of the Yomuts, living to the east, and the Goklen Turkomans. On returning we were told that Hadji Kari Mesud, one of my companions, living in a tent used as a mosque, had been robbed. The stolen articles were searched for everywhere, but could not be found. Finally the Sheikh or Imam caused it to be publicly announced that he would pronounce a curse against the thief, unless the stolen property were restored to its rightful owner within a given time. The threat had its effect, for scarcely twenty-four hours had passed when the thief made his appearance, penitent and humble, bringing with him not only the stolen property, but some presents of expiation besides. About the same time we received some good news in regard to a caravan which was to go to Khiva. The Khan of Khiva, whom the physicians had ordered to drink buffalo milk for his health, had sent his kervanbashi (chief of the caravans) to Astrabad to buy two buffaloes, there being no such animals in his dominions. The kervanbashi had already passed through Gomushtepe, and we were to join his caravan and start at once with him upon his return. A better guide we could not desire, for there was not a man more familiar with the desert than he.

I thought it very strange that many of our party were urging our departure, although these poor people were entertained in the most hospitable manner. SLAVERY."It is impossible for us," they replied to my queries, "to witness any longer the cruelties perpetrated against these poor Persian slaves. It is true they are heretics and that we have to bear much ill-treatment in passing through their country, but what these poor people must suffer exceeds all bounds." The reader may imagine what the fate of these Persian slaves under their Turkoman masters must have been, if even my Tartar companions, who, it is true, know of no slave trade in their own country, had their compassion roused at the spectacle of their sufferings. Usually these poor people are forcibly torn, during the night, from the bosom of their families, and often dragged here covered with wounds. The poor man, once a prisoner, has his clothes taken away, and receives instead a few scanty rags barely sufficient to cover his nakedness, and heavy chains are placed upon his limbs, galling his ankles and heels, and causing him cruel pain at every step he takes. In this way he continues for weeks to drag out a miserable existence on coarse food, and to prevent him from running away during the night, an iron collar (karabogra) is placed around his neck by which he is chained to a stake, the clanking of his chains betraying his slightest movement. He continues in this sad plight until he is either ransomed by his relations or sent to Khiva or Bokhara to be sold.

There is hardly a Turkoman of the better classes near whose tent the clanking of the chains of a couple of slaves is not heard. Khandjan had also two slaves, youths from eighteen to twenty years old, and my heart ached whenever I saw them dragging their heavy chains after them. I had the additional mortification of being compelled to insult and swear at them in public, as the slightest sympathy shown to them would have roused suspicion in my host, particularly as they addressed me oftener than the others, owing to my knowledge of their language. The younger of our two domestic slaves, a fine youth from Iran, with black curls, begged of me to write his parents a letter, beseeching them, for the love of God, to sell their house and sheep, and ransom him. I did as he requested. Upon one occasion I thought I could pass him, unobserved, a cup of tea, but as he was about to take it from my hands some one entered the tent. I did not, however, lose countenance for one minute; I pretended to have only teased him, and the poor fellow, instead of getting a cup of tea, had to put up with a few gentle blows from me, to keep up my false pretence. Not a night passed during my stay in Gomushtepe without firing being heard from the sea announcing the arrival of a slaver.

The inhabitants of Gomushtepe were untiring in the arrangement of feasts for devotional purposes, and on such occasions the entire hadji-company had to be present. I once wished to excuse myself, but was ushered out of my tent by a violent poke in the ribs from my would-be host, it being a rule of Turkoman etiquette that "the harder the thrusts, the more cordial the invitation." Upon these festive occasions it is the custom to spread in front of the host's tent a few pieces of cloth, or if the thing is done in great style, carpets, upon which the invited guests seat themselves in groups of six, each group forming a circle. Each of these groups gets a large wooden platter, the contents of which vary in quantity according to the ages and number of the guests, and every one helps himself with his hands, thrusting them into the plate until they reach its bottom. As to the quality of the dishes, the less said about them the better; I will only mention, in parenthesis, that horse's and camel's meat is the order of the day.

A BETROTHAL FEAST.Whilst we were the guests of Khandjan he celebrated by a feast the betrothal of his son, a boy of twelve years, with a girl of ten; and, of course, we had to be present at this feast. Originally the betrothal was to have taken place in the following autumn, but he took advantage of our presence to get our blessing for the young couple. A rather remarkable man was the Karaktchi, by whom also an entertainment was arranged in honour of our party. This man, all by himself and being on foot, took three Persians prisoners, and drove them a distance of eight miles into slavery. He gave us, as our share, a tenth part of the plunder, being the tithe belonging to the priests and amounting to two krans for each of us; and when we sang, blessing him, the fatiha, the man was beside himself with joy.

After we had passed three weeks in Gomushtepe we began our preparations for the onward journey, Khandjan promising to assist us in every way. We gave up the idea of purchasing camels owing to the expense it involved, and made up our minds to hire, instead, one camel for every two persons, which would carry at the same time the water and the flour of those two. The latter plan, however, would have been attended with considerable difficulty but for the assistance we got from Ilias Beg, who happened to be the very man we wanted for our purposes. This man differed from the others in being less religiously inclined, and being wanting in respect towards our hadjiship, but he observed all the more scrupulously the laws of hospitality. He was a Turkoman from Khiva, and belonged to the tribe of Yomut. Once in every year he used to cross the desert and visit this neighbourhood on business, and whilst on these visits enjoyed during his stay in Gomushtepe the protection of Khandjan, without which he would have been no more safe than any other stranger. He generally came in the autumn and left again in spring with from twenty to thirty camels laden partly with goods of his own, and partly with goods belonging to others. This season he was anxious to take with him a greater number of camels, not caring even if they were without a load, and the conveyance of our party came to him in the nick of time. Khandjan solemnly adjured him to take good care of us. "Thou shalt answer for their safety with thy life, Ilias!" he said, and the latter, fixing his eyes upon the ground, as the Nomads always do when they seem to be in earnest, merely answered: "Thou knowest me." We settled with Ilias to pay him two gold pieces for the hire of every camel we were to use, but that he should convey our water and flour free of charge. The money I had sewn into various parts of my ragged garments, added to what I had received in money for my blessings and cures, would have permitted me to hire a camel by myself, but Hadji Bilal persuaded me not to do so. He represented to me that an appearance of misery, inviting pity, was the best protection against the Nomads, whose predatory instincts are roused at the slightest indication of ease or comfort about a person. He mentioned the names of several of our companions who were well provided with money, but who, for safety's sake, are compelled to be clad in rags and to walk on foot. Yielding to his representations, I, too, hired a camel in common with another man; with this proviso, however, that I should be allowed to make use of a kedsheve (two baskets, one hanging on each side of the camel), because of the difficulty I should experience in sitting, with my lame foot cramped up, in the company of another man, for forty long stations. Ilias was not inclined to grant my request, this kedsheve being in the desert an additional burden to the camel, but he finally yielded to the persuasions of Khandjan. It was a source of additional satisfaction to me that I succeeded in securing Hadji Bilal for my neighbour, or rather counterpoise, for he became every day more indispensable to me.

When the bargain was concluded we paid Ilias his hire in advance, according to custom. Hadji Bilal then said a fatiha, and Ilias having smoothed the few thin hairs representing his beard, and answered with an affirmative "Amen," we felt quite easy about the arrangement. We urged him to hasten his departure, but he would make no promises, the time of his starting depending upon that of the kervanbashi of the Khan of Khiva, who was to go in front of the caravan with his buffaloes.

A ROBBER CHIEF.In Etrek, a place on the river of the same name and the first station on our road, we were to enjoy the hospitality of Kulkhan, the Karaktchilar piri viz (gray-beard of the robbers), who just then happened to be in Gomushtepe, and to whose special grace we were commended by Khandjan. This old rascal had a morose and repulsive look about him. When he learned that I should be his guest in Etrek he seemed to study my features, and exchanging whispers with Khandjan appeared not to agree with the others. I very soon found out the reason of his distrust. In his youth he had travelled all over Russia, had passed considerable time in Tiflis, and had become tolerably familiar with European life. He told them he had seen men of various nations, the Osmanlis excepted, that the latter, too, are said to be kinsmen of the Turkomans and to resemble them, but that to his surprise there was nothing in my features to indicate the remotest relationship with either. Hadji Bilal remarked to him, in reply, that he was badly informed, as he himself had been living for a long time in Roum, and had never observed the resemblance spoken of by him. Kulkhan was somewhat pacified by this explanation, and, informing us that he would leave for Etrek the day after to-morrow, he told us to hold ourselves in readiness for the journey; for, added he, although Etrek was only twelve miles off we could not get there without him, and he was only waiting for the return of his son Kolman from the alaman (a predatory venture). He invited us, at the same time, to walk to the lower shore of the Gorghen about noon, when his son would return and gladden us with a rare spectacle. Not having anything to do I was easily persuaded to go and mix with the crowd already assembled there, eagerly waiting for the arrival of their friends. Before long eight Turkoman horsemen were seen advancing in a furious gallop toward the opposite shore, bringing with them about ten spare horses. Eager eyes, full of mute admiration, followed every movement of the young horsemen, who in a second had crossed swimming the Gorghen, reached our shore, dismounted, and were now extending with indescribable gravity their hands to their friends and relations. However much I despised their occupation I could not help feasting my eyes on the manly forms of these young fellows, who in their short riding costumes, their long fair hair falling in curls on their shoulders, and with defiant looks, were the objects of general admiration. At the sight even morose Kulkhan cheered up a little, and after introducing his son, who received Hadji Bilal's blessing, we parted in order to attend to the final preparations for our journey.

XIX.
FROM GOMUSHTEPE TO THE BORDER OF THE DESERT.

We proceeded in a north-eastern direction through an endless plain. Our small caravan, consisting of Ilias's camels and six horses, moved on in close order, we having been informed by Kulkhan that there were such karaktchis in this part of the country who did not acknowledge his authority, and would feel no hesitation at attacking himself, if they thought themselves the stronger party. Ilias gave me as far as Etrek the use of a horse he had got from Kulkhan in order to save me the discomfort of riding on a camel. But whenever we came across a puddle I had to share my saddle with one of our companions, on foot, and he would clutch at my clothes with such violence, that he nearly pulled me from my seat. THREATENED BY THE WILD BOAR.On one occasion we had to pass through a marsh covered with rushes, which served as a cover for an immense herd of wild hogs or boars. Kulkhan and Ilias had ridden in advance in order to discover some roundabout path, by means of which the caravan might steer clear of these wild animals. As I was cautiously feeling my way with a companion in the saddle, my horse gave a sudden start; and before I well knew what had happened, we were both of us sprawling on the ground. Midst roars of laughter coming from my companions, I heard something like a cross between a squeal and a howl, and turning to discover the place whence these sounds issued, I saw before me two young wild pigs over which I had stumbled. Their mother had frightened my horse, and hearing the squeal of her litter she drew quite near us in a rage, showing her tusks; and she would have made a rush upon us if Shirdjan, the brother of Ilias, had not perceived our perilous position and placed himself with his lance raised high between us and the infuriated animal. The young pigs had, meanwhile, scrambled off, and their mother turned tail and went back to her lair. Kulkhan's son caught the runaway horse and brought it back to me with the remark that I was a lucky man to have escaped being killed by a wild hog, for he who receives his death from such an animal enters the next world in a state of uncleanness, no matter how pious a life he had led, and must suffer the fires of hell for five hundred years before he can be purified again, and even then not completely.

We passed the first night in a group of tents at a cousin's of Kulkhan. They knew already of our coming, and my hungry hadji friends interpreted the smoke rising above the tents, which we saw upon drawing near, as a sign of coming good cheer. The other hadjis and myself were quartered in the narrow tent of Allah Nazr. This aged Turkoman, poor and needy as he was, grew wild with joy at Heaven sending him guests to entertain. A goat was all he possessed, but he killed it to do honour to his guests. The following day he succeeded in getting some bread for us, a thing which had not been in his house for weeks; and upon seeing us surrounding the plate filled with meat and falling to with our tremendous appetites, our host and his aged helpmate, who had seated themselves opposite to us, shed tears of joy, in the literal sense of the word. Allah Nazr would not retain for himself any part of the animal thus offered up to us; its horns and hoofs, which if burnt to powder are used with effect on the galled sores of camels, he gave to Ilias; for me he destined the skin to serve as a vessel for water, having first rubbed it well with salt, and then carefully dried it in the sun.

Next day we resumed our march. At this station I took for the first time possession of my basket, having sacks of flour placed as a counterpoise in the other basket; for my friend Hadji Bilal wished to deny himself this luxury on that day. We had been going onward for scarcely two hours when we lost sight of green fields and came upon a melancholy soil emitting the pungent smell of salt. We were in the desert. The nearer we approached the mountain ridge called Kara Sengher (black wall) the softer did the soil get under our feet, and it became quite a bog when we came quite near the mountain. The camels, with their legs stretched apart, had every trouble to keep from sliding, and I was threatened every minute with being upset and left on the ground, basket and all. I deemed it wiser to dismount of my own accord, and after a dreadful scramble of one hour and a half succeeded in climbing the Kara Sengher, from whence we shortly afterwards reached Kulkhan's ova (tent).

AN ANXIOUS MOMENT.When we arrived there I was rather startled at being immediately conducted by Kulkhan into his own tent, and being told by him with great emphasis that I should not stir out of it until I was called. A few minutes later I heard him without, scolding his wife and reproaching her with never being able to find the chains when they were needed, and ordering her to find them for him immediately. Upon hearing this I began to suspect that something was wrong. Several times he entered the tent looking about him with gloomy looks, but never addressing a syllable to me. My suspicions increased, and all at once it struck me as strange that Hadji Bilal, who but rarely left me to myself, had not been near me for a considerable time. The most dreadful misgivings overwhelmed me; that fatal clanking of the chains outside the tent still continued. At last I saw that my fears were unfounded, for the chains being forthcoming I found that they were intended for the poor Persian slave who had been dragged with us to this place. Kulkhan afterwards prepared tea, and when we had partaken of it he beckoned to me to follow him to a new tent, adjoining his, especially erected for my use. This was to have been a surprise, and hence came the mysterious manner which had given me such a scare.

I must confess that this was neither the first nor the last time that the grim look and suspicious doings of the Turkomans, who afterwards turned out to be my best friends, filled my mind with all kind of horror. I never felt quite safe as to my future, and the only consolation left to me was my lameness, which made me quite valueless in the eyes of the slave-dealers. Of course, as the time went on, I began to be accustomed to this perpetual anxiety, and in spite of the constant danger in which I found myself, I regained my good humour, and my wit and jokes not only exhilarated my hadji fellows, but even the surliest son of the desert, and the usual remark of the Turkomans was, "That lame hadji of Roum (Turkey) is a jolly fellow; he would make a capital merry-maker."