THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE 
 
 Ex Libris 
 C. K. OGDEN
 
 V 
 
 i 
 
 ! 0, 
 
 t
 
 THROUGH THE HEART OF ASIA
 
 Through the Heart of Asia 
 
 OVER THE PAMIR TO INDIA. 
 
 By GABRIEL BONVALOT. 
 
 /// 
 
 WITH 250 ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 ALBERT PEPIN. 
 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY C. B. PITMAN. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL, Limited. 
 
 1889. 
 
 [all rights reserved.]
 
 VSS 
 365
 
 Bttiication. 
 
 TO 
 
 HIS EXCELLENCY 
 
 THE MARQUIS OF DUFFERIN AND AVA, 
 
 K.P., P. Cm K.C.B., Etc. 
 
 My Lord, 
 
 You made us feel happy indeed when you sent us such a 
 gracious letter to Mastudj. At Simla, you gave us so kind a reception 
 that the least we can do, in token of our gratitude, is to dedicate to 
 you the English translation of the narrative of our travels. May we 
 hope that you will read it with interest. 
 
 G. BONVALOT. 
 
 November, 1888.
 
 PREFACE, 
 
 Central Asia, through which I have just travelled for the 
 second time, has always had a great fascination for me. It is 
 not surprising that such should be the case. This region of 
 the earth is made up of contrasts. You find there, in the 
 midst of the dreariest deserts, oases of the greatest fertility, 
 and you come upon towns full of life and animation as you 
 emerge from solitudes upon which a profound silence confers 
 something like grandeur. The traveller, whose mouth is still 
 parched by the brackish waters drawn from the cisterns of the 
 arid steppe, suddenly sees before him rivers with the majestic 
 aspect of an inland sea, the Avater of which is delightful to the 
 palate. After having wended his way over boundless plains, 
 he reaches the foot of mountains, the peaks of which, rising 
 high into the heavens, are barely visible to the naked eye. If 
 he has the pluck to cross this barrier, climbing upwards along 
 steep and rough paths, he finds himself in the midst of an 
 ocean of mountains, out of which it seems a hopeless task 
 to seek an issue ; and if he climbs up and down for weeks 
 and months together, sometimes seeing only a small blue corner 
 of the sky, if he directs his course due east, he will eventually 
 come out into a land where the watercourses are abundant,
 
 viii Preface. 
 
 where naked men cultivate, with the help of gigantic animals, 
 lands of incredible fertility. 
 
 What adds to the interest of visiting a land, the configura- 
 tion of which is so strange, is that it is inhabited by races of 
 the most diverse types, that we are ourselves believed to have 
 had ancestors there, and that the opinion prevails among men 
 of science that the first of the human race felt in this country 
 their first requirements and aspirations, and that our earliest 
 ancestors found their way from there to the West, carrying in 
 their trains a certain faculty of speech, certain creeds and apti- 
 tudes, which they shed as they moved westward, and the traces 
 of which may be followed, so to speak, along the route they 
 took. 
 
 Add to this that Central Asia has a very glorious past, by 
 which I mean that it has been traversed by the most illustrious 
 conqueror of antiquity, by the greatest of the Moguls, and that 
 it has o-iven birth to a formidable man who, lame as he was, 
 made all Europe to tremble. It could not but be interesting 
 to visit the arena upon which warriors such as these had made 
 their evolutions and to follow the track of their armies ; it 
 was interesting, too, to see what remained of their work, and 
 what had become of the workmen with whom they achieved 
 such great things. 
 
 We were anxious, by means of a careful examination of the 
 land and its inhabitants, to penetrate into the past of Asia, 
 and to shed as much light as possible upon its history with 
 the torch of geography. We wanted to see certain things in 
 order to understand them better, and to ascertain how, in 
 analogous circumstances, the men of the past, whose doings 
 now take us by surprise, acted.
 
 Preface. ix 
 
 We started with the conviction that history had a con- 
 tinoiis existence, that it was only necessary to go from one 
 country to another to find one's self in a different age, and that 
 the best way to understand the methods of the great masters 
 of history was to be one of them upon a very humble scale. 
 
 We were imbued by this idea when we embarked at Mar- 
 seilles for Batum, and, keeping our eyes open all the way, 
 traversed the Caucasus, the Lenkoran, the Talich, inhabited 
 by people with the customs of feudal times, then Persia, by 
 the great historical way running from west to east, in the 
 company of pilgrims bound at once on prayer and traffic as 
 in the Middle Ages, and finally the land of the Turkomans 
 and Bokhara. We had no sooner entered Afghanistan, than 
 we were stopped by the same Ishak-Khan, who has just been 
 in revolt against his master and friend, Abdur- Rahman-Khan. 
 We then retraced our steps, following the route of Alexander 
 the Great, the Arabs, and so many others, and at length 
 reached the further end of the Ferghana, at the foot of " the 
 roof of the world," where the civilization of the East on the 
 one side and that of the West on the other expire, like 
 the furthest eddies of two tides which run into each other. 
 As all the routes through inhabited regions were barred to us, 
 we determined to improvise one over the Pamir, where we were 
 less likely to be stopped by man, and where the obstacles in 
 our path were raised by nature. Upon the other side of "the 
 roof of the world," we should find among the mountains the 
 drift of the great shipwreck of the races which inhabited them 
 in antiquity, and, beyond them, India. 
 
 Such was the object of our journey. 
 
 But while going to see what remained of the past in Asia
 
 X Preface. 
 
 and what had become of the authors of such great deeds, we 
 also had before us the spectacle of two peoples both engrossed 
 in a work of no little grandeur. 
 
 We saw towns spring into existence, and grow to a good 
 size in a few weeks' time ; a railway made under unexampled 
 difficulties and in a terrible climate, yet carried through the 
 desert with such rapidity that one could almost see it lengthen- 
 ing out and reaching distant places almost as fast as a river 
 which had been turned back into its usual channel. 
 
 Then we saw the vanquished of yesterday formed into a 
 regular force and led to the combat by their conquerors against 
 hereditary foes, pouring out their blood like water, in order to 
 enable their masters to create more quickly the route which 
 was to bind their earlier and later conquests more closely to- 
 gether. We saw, too, the vanquished, who had at first been 
 treated with unflinching severity, and then with kindness, full 
 of surprise at finding the new-comers so gentle with them, 
 gradually gaining confidence as to the future, and forgetting 
 their defeats, assembling in thousands upon holy-days and 
 joining their shouts with those who only a short time before 
 were driving them at the edge of the sword. 
 
 In the earlier conquests of Russia, we found great cities 
 inhabited by emigrants belonging to the conquering race, 
 people from the Volga and the Dnieper, cultivating the land, 
 and humming an air as they stood at the door of village 
 cottages. We were witnesses of the friendly relations which 
 existed between the natives and their masters, the one joining 
 in the family rejoicings of the other, the children with caps 
 on their heads playing with those who wore the turban. We 
 noticed wherever we went that the gentleness and patience of
 
 Preface. xi 
 
 the Slavs — down even to what in the West are their defects — ■ 
 served their purpose in the East. We witnessed the expansion 
 of a nation spreading over the East its overflow of strength, 
 of a people which at times spreads very slowly, at others pours 
 in with the impetuosity of a tidal wave, but which never 
 recedes ; which takes root in these regions, which it regards 
 as a prolongation of Russia. 
 
 We saw the roads which lead to those regions swarminof 
 with soldiers who were going to make a channel for the in- 
 undation to follow ; soldiers who were sinewy, temperate, in- 
 defatigable, well disciplined, marching briskly to the music of 
 accordeons and balalaihas, the sounds of which seemed to us 
 very much more warlike than those of the lyre. These soldiers, 
 who seem born for Asiatic fighting, are reconstituting, from 
 west to east, the Mogul empire upon more solid bases ; 
 they are following, in the reverse direction, much the same 
 route as those who started from Kara-Korum, and they can 
 find quarters which were got ready by the troopers of Gengis- 
 Khan. I can see nothing calculated to check the advance of 
 a people whose sources of energy and action are increasing 
 each day, as its population grows, and as it gains confidence 
 in its own strength and knows how to use it. Besides this, 
 the Russians do not disseminate their forces any more than a 
 tree does when it drops its fruit and sows its seed, and they 
 are ever pushing forward the same frontier, so to speak, by 
 the irresistible pressure of an inward sap. 
 
 All this causes deep concern to those whom we encountered 
 upon the other side of the mighty mountain range. They 
 have not the same security as those who descend, from the 
 west, the historical slope which leads to the countries governed
 
 xii Preface. 
 
 by them. They have not the same confidence in the future, 
 the same carelesness as to the morrow. 
 
 The Enghsh endeavour to put back the hour for playing 
 the game of which they will have to provide the stakes. They 
 cannot afford to make a single false move, and those who are 
 at the helm keep their eyes and ears open ; the least thing 
 startles them. They display admirable tenacity, intelligence, and 
 activity. I would compare them, without wishing to speak 
 disrespectfully, to the Chinese conjuror who keeps twenty plates 
 twirling in the air at the same time. This is very much what, 
 with a useful and at the same time remunerative aim, the 
 masters of the richest country in the world are doing. They 
 are but a small band engaged in this arduous work, but they 
 quit themselves like men. They are not conquerors ; they did 
 not begin by invading the country with drums beating and 
 flags flying. They crept into this land, where their task is 
 very much more difficult than that of the Russians on the other 
 side, and they maintain themselves there amid millions of men, 
 and keep them under their rule by dint of their wonderful 
 tact. They show what can be done by traders and men of 
 business who know what they want and go straight to their 
 purpose. Nevertheless, their power is, whatever they may say, 
 more or less artificial ; they are making their way up stream, 
 which tires the boldest swimmer, whereas the others are follow- 
 ing the current, which is far easier. 
 
 While among the native populations bordering on the coun- 
 tries subject to the Western powers, we were able to obtain 
 an echo of the " public opinion " of Asia as to the respective 
 situation of the two rival nations. Having been detained as 
 prisoners in the Tchatral for six weeks, we had plenty of time
 
 Preface. xiii 
 
 to cross-question the natives of that country. Ten years ago, 
 they only troubled themselves about the English, but now they 
 are interested in the Russians, and asked us all sorts of ques- 
 tions about them. According to the information which, as they 
 told us, they had gathered from the pilgrims, the Russians were 
 poor, but had a great many soldiers. They have doubtless 
 heard about the insignificant skirmish at Pendjeh, and this, 
 growing as it travelled, had developed into a great battle lost 
 by the Afghans. In fact, while we were in the Tchatral, the 
 news got abroad that the Russians had taken a large tract of 
 territory from the emir, Abdur- Rahman- Khan, that they would 
 soon seize Cabul, and that their warriors were already marching 
 upon that city. The men of Tchatral were exulting in the 
 defeat of the Afghans, their foemen, and, as they regard the 
 latter as excellent soldiers, so much the more formidable do 
 the Russians appear to them. 
 
 But the Afghans are far from being defeated, and it does 
 not seem, moreover, that either of the two powerful rivals has 
 any immediate interest in crushing a possible ally. Afghanistan 
 has, therefore, a chance of retaining its independence as long 
 as its neighbours are not of one accord. The emirs of Cabul 
 endeavour to be on good terms with each side, but as the 
 English have declared themselves to be their protectors, it is 
 to them that they apply when there is a frontier to be recti- 
 fied, or when they want to increase the strength of their 
 battalions by the aid of rupees. 
 
 The construction of the Transcaspian railway has given 
 them great concern. They fully appreciate its strategical im- 
 portance ; they understand that the Russians have thus taken 
 definite possession of Bokhara, and that the armies of the
 
 xiv Preface. 
 
 Caucasus and Turkestan can now easily combine their efforts. 
 And while they declare that they are not afraid of the English, 
 they do not speak so confidently about the Russians. They 
 say that they would fight to the last drop of their blood, in 
 the event of war with them, which does not betoken much 
 hope of victory, The long negotiations of the recent Boundary 
 Commission, in which the English had taken up the Afghan 
 cause, having ended in a cession of territory to the Russians, 
 the prestige of the English has not increased in Afghanistan, 
 the people regarding the arrangement come to as a surrender 
 and a mark of weakness. The Russians are thought to be made 
 of better stuff throughout all Asia, and as their finances do 
 not admit of their indulging in the prodigalities of the Anglo- 
 Indians, the people are more struck by their military power, 
 while with the English it is the depth of their purse which 
 creates so much surprise. The peoples and tribes surrounding 
 India have got to think that they have only to stretch out 
 their hand to those who govern the country, and they are 
 always surprised when they do not receive anything. It is easy 
 to see by the way in which they ask that they consider them- 
 selves entitled to largesses, and they regard the English not 
 as mighty warriors, but very rich merchants, who have built 
 up the edifice of their power upon piles of rupees, than which 
 nothing could be more fragile. They fully recognize the courage 
 of the English, they admire their wonderful public works, their 
 fine railways, and yet they keep their eyes fixed on the 
 Russians, and expect something good out of them. It is difficult 
 to win the gratitude of Asiatics, and to satisfy them ; and 
 even those of India are not satisfied. I don't know what they 
 expect to get out of a change, and they are perhaps as childish
 
 Preface. xv 
 
 in this respect as certain other nations. But all I know is that 
 many a discontented Hindoo says, "When the Russians are 
 here, things will be different." When will they be in India, 
 or will they ever be ? I am not competent to answer these 
 questions, not knowing what the future has in store ; but I 
 do know that their coming is eagerly awaited by not a few, 
 and that a great many expect to see them arrive. 
 
 G. BONVALOT. 
 
 F.S. — In order to explain the frequent allusions which I 
 shall make in the following pages to previous travels in Central 
 Asia, it may be as well to explain that MM. Plon, Nourrit and 
 Co. published three or four years ago two volumes entitled, 
 " En Asie Centrale," which contained an account of the journey 
 undertaken by M. Capus and myself in the years 1880-82. 
 Starting from Moscow, we entered Turkestan by the north- 
 east, that is to say by way of Siberia, and we traversed part 
 of Bokhara in company with the family of the emir, Abdur- 
 Rahman-Khan. We then explored the mountains of Kohistan 
 and those of the Tchatral, which form the last spurs of the 
 Trans-Chan. Upon our return home we started from Tashkend, 
 and, after visiting Samarcand, Bokhara, and Tchardjui, we de- 
 scended the Amu, stopping at Khiva, and crossing the desolate 
 desert of Ust-Urt in the depth of winter. During the whole 
 of this time we were north of the river Oxus, and it was in 
 order to complete our travels in Central Asia that we under- 
 took the journey related in these pages. 
 
 G. B.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FROM MARSEILLES TO TIFLIS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Marseilles— At sea — The Dardanelles — In a cafe — The school — Soldiers — 
 Rumours of war — Recruiting — A word in favour of the Turks — The 
 Bosphorus — Passengers — The low-lying lands — Trebizond — A naphtha 
 city — A virgin forest — Scenery of the Rion — An old acquaintance ... i 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FROM TIFLIS TO RESHD. 
 
 On wheels — Saliane — Native types — Rain and its effects — Sectaries— The 
 land of mud — Upon the sea-shore — More virgin forests — On the Persian 
 frontier — The population ; its mode of living and idleness — Feudalism 
 — Scenes of feudal life — Scenery in the Talich country ; dwellings, 
 custom, education, serfage, music and medicine ... ... ... 27 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FROM RESHD TO TEHERAN. 
 
 The wine — No bread — The reason why — Nearing the Guilek country — 
 Reshd — A governor taking his departure — Prefectoral movement in 
 Persia — The departure of the great lady — Refuge — Merovingian period 
 — No more rain and no more forest — Central Asia begins — The plain 
 of Iran ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 78 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FROM TEHERAN TO BOSTAN. 
 
 The start from Teheran — The great historical road — In the company of 
 pilgrims — Desolation of the salt desert — The Caspian Pyl?e — Our chance 
 companions : Hadji Baba the philosopher — A village in a small oasis : 
 the sort of life led there — Manufactory of saltpetre at Aouvan — Piety of 
 Sadik the van-driver — Peace and ventilation — Life underground — The 
 karys — The Turkomans close at hand — A night in a caravansary ... 97
 
 xviii Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FROM BOSTAN TO MESHED. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The land and water — Expatriated radishes — Abundance of water at Sab- 
 zevar — Consecutive upsets — A Persian emigrant — His views — No res 
 publica — The caravansary in the daytime — The Arabs — The witch of 
 Endor — Diplomacy — The print of Imam's footstep — The fear of Turan 
 — The watch towers — The Turkomans as slave dealers — Persian pusilla- 
 nimity — Before the holy city of the Shiites — Religious enthusiasm — Its 
 various manifestations — "Distance lends enchantment to the view" ... 129 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FROM ISIESHED TO SAMARCAND. 
 
 Departure from Meshed — The Kchef — Vakouf and Shiite fanaticism — The 
 scenery more and more like Central Asia — A dream at Muzderane — The 
 desert — Daybreak — The heat — Persian Sarakhs — Russian Sarakhs- A 
 modern Cecrops — We engage Menas — Night stages in the desert — 
 Nothing to drink — The oasis — Merv — Meeting of two peoples — A 
 nascent town — Still the desert — The railway — What is thought of the 
 Turkomans — The Russians — At Samarcand for the sixth time — Projects 158 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FROM SAMARCAND TO AMU. 
 
 Arrival at Samarcand — Projects as to Afghanistan — The departure — Story 
 about the fever at Yakabag — By the Sanguirdak to Hissar — Nomads at 
 the close of summer — The Lullis — Karatag, a story of the past — Cabulis 
 becoming landowners — A new era — Agitation in the public mind — A 
 claimant to the throne ; his residence ; his fate — The valley of Kafirnagane 195 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AMONG THE AFGHANS. 
 
 Our recruits — Tempest upon the Amu — Camels at the watering-place — 
 Passage of the Amu — Stopped at Chur-Tepe — Negotiations — -The autho- 
 rities — The Ersaris — Traits of Afghan character — The chief of the posts 
 at the frontier— Profession of faith — About the English — We are detained 
 — Instructions asked for from Mazari-Cherif, then from Cabul — The 
 "vagrants;" Jacob and Eleazar Turkomans — Escape — Philtre, exorcism 
 — The cyanide of potassium — We are turned back — Our return to 
 Samarcand ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 240
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Straits of Messina ... ... ... ... ... 4 
 
 Stromboli ... ... ... ... ... ... 5 
 
 A Street Corner at Constantinople ... ... ... 7 
 
 A Samsun Shepherd ... ... ... ... 11 
 
 Deck Passengers ... ... ... ... ... 14 
 
 The Cape of Trebizond ... ... ... ... 15 
 
 Turkish Porters at Trebizond ... ... ... ... 16 
 
 Ancient Fortress at Trebizond ... ... ... 17 
 
 Leaving Batum ... ... ... ... ... ... 21 
 
 A Clearing in the Forest ... ... ... ... 23 
 
 The Steppe ... ... ... ... ... ... 25 
 
 A Gazelle ... ... ... ... ... ... 26 
 
 Saliane ... ... ... ... ... ... 27 
 
 A Young Tartar on a Pony ... ... ... 29 
 
 In the Mud ... ... ... ... ... ... ^^ 
 
 Lenkoran ... ... ... ... ... ... 36 
 
 Tartar Houses and Dresses ... ... ... ... 37 
 
 In the Lenkoran Marshes ... ... ... ... 39 
 
 On the Shore of the Caspian Sea ... ... ... 43 
 
 In a Canoe... ... ... ... ... ... 47 
 
 Khevir ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 49 
 
 A Talich Man-at-Arms ... ... ... ... 53 
 
 Talich Marksmen ... .. ... ... ... 56 
 
 A Servant of the Khan ... ... ... ... 59 
 
 A Serf's Wife ... ... ... ... ... ... 66 
 
 The Khan and his Suite ... ... ... ... 69 
 
 The Khan's Minstrel ... ... ... , ■•• ••• 71 
 
 A Consultation ... ... ... ... ... 73
 
 XX List of Illustrations. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Our Attendant, A-Mman ... ... ... ... ... 76 
 
 By the Water's Edge at Night ... ... ... 78 
 
 Starting from Chifa-Rud ... ... ... ... 83 
 
 From Peri-Bazar to Reshd by a Flooded Road ... 85 
 
 A Persian General ... ... ... ... ... 87 
 
 Departure of the Vali's Wife ... ... ... 91 
 
 A Fall upon the Edge of Kizil-Uzen ... .. ... 93 
 
 Mazraa ... ... ... ... ... ... 95 
 
 Persian Woman ... ... ... ... ... ... 96 
 
 The Royal Highway from Kazvin to Teheran ... 97 
 
 A Jewess of Teheran ... ... ... ... ... 99 
 
 A Kurdish Postilion ... ... ... ... 105 
 
 Baba ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 108 
 
 Eivani-Keif — A Batcha Dance ... ... ... 109 
 
 DeHINEMEK ... ... ... ... ... ... Ill 
 
 Sadik ... ... ... ... ... ... 113 
 
 A Caravansary ... ... ... ... ... ... 115 
 
 Daouletabad ... ... ... ... ... 117 
 
 Damgan ... ... ... ... ... ... 119 
 
 Wells ... ... ... ... ... ... 120 
 
 A Persian Girl... ... ... ... ... ... 122 
 
 Tartar Pilgrim ... ... ... ... ... 123 
 
 Gipsies ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 127 
 
 Entrance to the Village of Saderabad ... ... 129 
 
 Little Girl at Abbas-Abad ... ... ... ... 130 
 
 A Spinner at Saderabad ... ... ... ... 131 
 
 Pilgrims and Muleteers ... ... ... ... 133 
 
 The First Upset before reaching Churab ... ... 137 
 
 The Entr.\nce to Nichapur ... ... ... ... 143 
 
 A Pilgrim drinking Tea ... ... . . ... 144 
 
 The Cemetery of Nichapur ... ... ... ... 147 
 
 Sherifabad ... 
 
 The "Best" of the Imam Riza at Meshed 
 
 Leaving Meshed ... ... ... ... ... 158 
 
 Altercation at Karabuga ... ... ... ... 160 
 
 A Butcher at Keichidar ... ... ... ... 163 
 
 Encampment at Muzderane ... ... ... ... 165 
 
 An Encampment ... ... ... ... ... 168 
 
 Sarakhs .. ... ... ... ... ... 171 
 
 150 
 153
 
 List of Illustrations. 
 
 XXI 
 
 Turkoman and his Donkey 
 
 A Thirsty Group 
 
 Tekke Turkoman Khan ... 
 
 A Sarthian Reaper... 
 
 YusuF Khan 
 
 House and Tomb at Samarcand 
 
 Samarcand 
 
 Sarthian Woman 
 
 A Sarthian Theatre Manager ... 
 
 Street Dervish 
 
 A Bazaar Scene in Samarcand ... 
 
 Our Servant Menas making up his Mind 
 
 In Sight of Yakabag 
 
 Yakabag 
 
 Courtyard of a Palace at Yakabag 
 
 Tashkhurgan 
 
 Encampment at Saridjui 
 
 LULLIS 
 
 Karat AG ... ... 
 
 The Beg of Hissar and Tartar Boy 
 
 Bazaar and Fortress of Karat ag 
 
 Uzbeg 
 
 Fortress of Hissar, as seen from the Summer Garden 
 
 UZBEGS 
 
 Gate of the Inner Fortress 
 
 The Emir of Bokhara 
 
 Entrance of Palace 
 
 Interior of a Room in the Harem ... 
 
 Encampment upon the Banks of the Kafirnagane 
 
 An Encampment at Kabadiane 
 
 Fortress of Kabadiane ... 
 
 Prisoners at Kabadiane 
 
 Arab of Balkh, our Muleteer ... 
 
 Junction of the Kafirnagane and the Amu ... 
 
 Tcharehambe 
 
 At Yangariak 
 
 Afghan Officer 
 
 Interior of the Caravansary at Chour-Tepe 
 
 Outline of the Bactra Mountains 
 
 PAGE 
 176 
 
 182 
 
 186 
 187 
 189 
 190 
 191 
 
 ^95 
 197 
 199 
 201 
 203 
 207 
 209 
 211 
 212 
 214 
 217 
 223 
 225 
 228 
 229 
 231 
 
 233 
 234 
 235 
 239 
 240 
 241 
 242 
 243 
 245 
 247 
 249 
 251 
 252
 
 xxii List of Illustrations. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Afghan Officer ... ... ... ... ... 255 
 
 Dadali ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 259 
 
 Returning from the Chase ... ... ... ... 265 
 
 Afghan Non-Commissioned Officer ... ... ... 268 
 
 Pilgrims ... ... ... ... ... ... 270 
 
 Powder Mag.\zine at Chour-Tepe ... ... ... 271 
 
 Dadali Sheep ... ... ... ••• ••. 272 
 
 Amu Turkoman ... ... ... ■■• ••• .•• 273 
 
 The Exorcism ... ... ••• ••• ••• 275 
 
 Raft upon the Amu ... ... ••• ••• -■• 279 
 
 A Halt ... ... ... ••• ••• ••• 280
 
 Through the Heart of Asia 
 
 {OVER THE PAMIR TO INDIA.) 
 
 CHAPTER I, 
 
 FROM MARSEILLES TO TIFLLS. 
 
 Marseilles — At sea — The Dardanelles— In a cafe — The school — Soldiers — Ru- 
 mours of war — Recruiting — A word in favour of the Turks — The Bosphorus 
 — Passengers — The low-lying lands — Trebizond — A naphtha city — A virgin 
 forest — Scenery of the Rion — An old acquaintance. 
 
 Before leaving Marseilles and France, we take a last look, from 
 the summit of the Aix gateway, at that picturesque city, with its 
 steep streets, its hills covered with houses, its quays swarming 
 with people who gain their living out of the blue sea, upon which 
 the church of Notre- Dame de la Garde looks down from afar. 
 It is from the quay of La Joliette that we embark on board the 
 Anatolie, a fine vessel, which is to carry us to Batum, together 
 with tons of sugar, iron, blacking, soap, English stuffs, Marseilles 
 coffee, nails, and what not. The Anatolie belongs to the company 
 of Messrs. Paquet Brothers, who, in spite of the badness of the 
 times, were kind enough to take us at reduced fares, for which we 
 are glad to seize this opportunity of thanking them, as well as for 
 the way in which we were treated while on board. The voyage 
 was not to seem a lengthy one to us, for our captain, whose name
 
 2 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 is Boschell, was a very cheery Breton, though that did not prevent 
 him from being, as his men said, a thorough sailor. 
 
 But here we are under way. There is a sHght mist along 
 the coast. We pass the Chateau d'lf, Frioul, and La Ciotat ; 
 Toulon lies hidden in a hollow of the coast to the left. The land 
 gradually disappears, as if it was sinking behind the horizon. A 
 few more revolutions of the screw and we can see nothing of 
 France, not even a buoy. Even the gulls which have escorted 
 us so far take wing back to the shore. We are unmistakably on 
 our way to Central Asia, with the intention of travelling through 
 the Caucasus, Lenkoran, Persia, Afghanistan, and, if possible, the 
 Turkoman country and Bactriana. Perhaps we may reach the 
 Kafiristan — unless, indeed, circumstances, which so often get 
 the mastery of one, force us in some other direction. W^e are 
 as much at their mercy as a nutshell upon the crest of a wave. 
 
 Upon the morning of March ist, we enter the Dardanelles, 
 having some cargo to land, and the Anatolic has scarcely had 
 time to cast anchor before w^e are beset by a crowd of boatmen. 
 Many of them are Greeks, and very free of speech. The Turks 
 are more calm, and one old man, with a white beard, keeps on 
 saying for a quarter of an hour, with praiseworthy pertinacity, 
 "Mossou, embarcar ? Embarcar, mossou ? " He is imperturbable, 
 while all the rest are shouting and gesticulating. Some of the 
 passengers begin to bargain in a mixture of the Auvergnat, Italian, 
 and Gascon dialects, plentifully interlarded with "Mossou" and 
 gestures by way of explanation. 
 
 Despite the rain, we make up our mind to go ashore in one 
 of the boats of the Anatolie, and, like the true land-lubbers that 
 we all three are, we were delighted to feel our feet, muddy though 
 the quay was. 
 
 Although we felt ourselves to be still in Europe, owing no 
 doubt to the rainy weather, Dardanelles did not strike us as being
 
 From Marseilles to Tifi,is. 3 
 
 a very gay sort of a place, and I can quite fancy that the officers 
 whom we saw seated on the worn divans of the Cafe de 
 I'Hellespont do not have a very merry time of it. When we 
 went there, they were smoking the chibook, drawing long whiffs, 
 and the only sound one could hear was the rattle of the dice they 
 were casting in silence. One of them was reading a paper, which 
 he handed with a smile to the person sitting next to him, and 
 pointed with his finger to a sentence which seemed to amuse him. 
 This was the latest piece of news about the war supposed to be 
 brewing between Greece and Turkey. We seated ourselves at 
 a table, drawing up some heavy chairs, coarsely stuffed and 
 painted blue. Coffee was then served us, and while the dregs 
 were settling down at the bottom of the tiny cups, we had a 
 look at the gaudy drawings which ornamented the dripping 
 walls. First there was the Sultan, surrounded by his family — a 
 man with a tremendous stomach and orders on his breast, a 
 pointed beard, regular features, and a fez. Then there were 
 coloured lithographs of different Turkish functionaries, with words 
 in Turkish and in French describing their rank. Finally, there 
 were four stout ladies, very lightly clad, meant to represent the 
 four elements of earth, air, fire, and water. These ladies were 
 represented in nonchalant attitudes, and smiled down from their 
 frames upon the customers of the establishment. There was even 
 a billiard table, with balls which had all the polish off them and 
 wobbled about in the most uncertain fashion. I must not foreet, 
 moreover, some busts, with red paint on the cheeks and black 
 moustaches. This is a faithful description of the best cafe in 
 Dardanelles, where we waited for a break in the storm, to have 
 a look at the town. Troy was not far off, but we had no time 
 to go and offer a sacrifice upon the tomb of Achilles, and we 
 walked about till the whistle of the Anatolie summoned us back 
 on board.
 
 4 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 We went in the direction of the barracks, passing on our way 
 through the bazaar, where several of the merchants spoke our 
 language but did not keep our goods for sale. I saw articles 
 of English, German, Austrian and Bulgarian make, but those 
 labelled as French were evidently counterfeit, as the mistakes 
 of spelling proved. And when we asked the keeper of one shop 
 to sell us something French, he offered us these imitations. We 
 pointed out to him that even the label was incorrectly imitated, 
 and his answer was, " I know that, but your goods cost too much." 
 This was a reply which I was to get very often in the course of 
 my travels. 
 
 ^^^^fe5^'t:^r.a^„ - - <-?^:"^ 
 
 STRAITS OF MESSINA. 
 
 Next we see some little girls going to school in the company 
 of their brothers, each of them with a bag of books slung over 
 their shoulders. They all of them looked dirty and untidy, 
 but they had honest, ruddy faces, with strong athletic figures. 
 They went one by one through the muddy roads, lifting their feet 
 very high, and laughing at one another when they got splashed, 
 full of life and spirits, like all young children. 
 
 The fort did not give one the idea of being impregnable, but 
 the soldiers garrisoned in it looked hale and vigorous. Badly 
 clad in the cast-off garments of European clothing depots, they 
 had, nevertheless, a martial air, and belonged to the proud race of 
 Anatolia.
 
 From Marseilles to Tiflis, 5 
 
 But our vessel sounded her whistle, and we had to go back 
 on board, for in an hour she would have completed her cargo, and 
 we should be continuing our voyage. Just as we are starting, an 
 English vessel arrives from Syria with a body of recruits. The 
 anchor is let down in a twinkling, and the cargo is at once landed. 
 This consists of Arabs with long, thin faces ; still young, and con- 
 cealing their tattered garments beneath a burnous which once was 
 white. Some of them are to be left at Dardanelles, and they are 
 poured out, so to speak, from the vessel into boats, where they are 
 
 #/ 
 
 ^ 
 
 STROMUOLI. 
 
 wedged in with their luggage, which is but scanty. Some of them 
 carry a half-filled knapsack ; others have all their belongings tied 
 up in a handkerchief, while their provisions consist of wheaten 
 cakes, not bigger than the palm of the hand, and onions, the green 
 stalks of which they seem to enjoy very much. Upon the deck 
 are a number of cavalry soldiers and their horses, bound for 
 Constantinople. When the boats make off from the side of the 
 vessel, the Arabs utter discordant cries of adieu, raising their 
 hands to heaven, placing them upon their mouth, pressing them 
 to their heart, and gesticulating like lunatics ; as each boat puts off,
 
 6 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 there is a fresh outburst of groans, and the tumult does not subside 
 until all the white burnouses are seen to be safe on the quay. . 
 
 The remainder are crouched patiently beside their horses ; the 
 anchor is weighed, and the vessel, carrying the British colours, 
 whistles and steams off with these Asiatics, who will be hastily 
 initiated into the first principles of warfare before the conference 
 is ended or the Greeks have invaded the peninsula with a courage 
 derived from Leonidas of Lacedemonia. 
 
 We start in dull weather, and heavy clouds are passing over 
 from Europe to Troas ; in other words, the wind is blowing from 
 the north. First we pass the fort of Dardanelles, with its guns 
 pointed upon the strait, the passage of which is forbidden to all 
 vessels at night. To the left is Gallipoli, which, with its white 
 minarets, rises story above story close to the cliffs, great blocks 
 of which are constantly slipping down into the sea. The wind 
 brings us the strident notes of some trumpet practice. So we 
 enter the Sea of Marmora, navigating, as we are told, in neutral 
 waters, a pj-opos of which we noticed a touching exchange of 
 sympathies between the passengers. There was a Greek who 
 did not like the Turks ; a Genoese who liked neither the Greeks 
 nor the Armenians ; an Armenian who did not like the Greeks, 
 the Armenians, or the Turks ; Turks who did not say anything 
 against anybody, and more than one Frenchman on board who 
 shook them heartily by the hand. And we are told that we are 
 all brothers ! 
 
 We reached Constantinople in the rain, and it was no easy 
 matter for our vessel to get a berth in the port, which was crowded 
 with shipping and traversed by rapid currents. I am not going 
 to attempt a description of Constantinople, which has already been 
 so well done. Moreover, the landscape as we saw it, between two 
 snowstorms, was not well lighted up, as a painter would say. It 
 is true that we orot a few sunbeams, which made the Golden Horn,
 
 From Marseilles to Tiflis. 9 
 
 Stamboul, Pera, and Galata to sparkle, but the magic spectacle 
 scarcely lasted a moment. 
 
 We passed most of the time at our disposal wandering about 
 the picturesque streets of Stamboul and exploring the bazaars. 
 We noticed there strong men carrying enormous loads which bent 
 them to the very earth. They would stop now and again and 
 lean up against the wall to catch breath, then going painfully on 
 their way, slipping upon the wet pavement, clogged by the thick 
 mud, the sweat pouring from their foreheads, and yet, as soon 
 as they had got rid of one load, going back to fetch another. 
 There was no sign of discouragement to be read upon their placid 
 faces, and they had in their eyes the same resigned and fixed look 
 that may be seen in the eyes of the oxen yoked to heavy cars. 
 They were very thin, and most of them spoke in Turkish, Other 
 men, fat and well-liking, seated at ease in the shops, watched, 
 chibook in mouth, these beasts of burden go by ; some of them 
 conversing in all kinds of languages ; the majority with hooked 
 noses, knit eyebrows, and sallow complexions. The first feed 
 upon onions, cucumbers, rice, bread, and water ; they live and die 
 poor. The others are the foreign dealers, who have a well-spread 
 table and grow rich. Eager to amass wealth, they lead a life 
 of uneasiness and feverish agitation. They are unanimous in 
 admitting that the Turks are honourable and trustworthy people, 
 full of energy for work when they are sure of being paid. This 
 is, in brief, typical of all Turkey. 
 
 Are we as much entitled as we fancy to reproach with lack 
 of initiative, idleness, and sloth these Turks, who work to pay the 
 debts of extravagant sultans, whom the tax-gatherers would not 
 leave enough to live upon were it not that the raias must be 
 kept alive to supply the treasury of the European bankers.-^ If 
 the bankers are justified in demanding repayment of the sums 
 they have advanced, are the raias of Asia Minor to be blamed
 
 lo Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 if they are content to live from hand to mouth ? Have we not 
 ourselves experienced lassitude of the same kind, less than a 
 century ago ? Can we blame a man for not caring to cultivate 
 a field, the produce of which will not repay him for the toil of 
 ploughing and sowing it ? We are so in the habit of " letting 
 the Turk have it " that I feel almost compelled to apologize for 
 having in some measure spoken in his defence. 
 
 We leave Constantinople at daybreak. The clouds have 
 cleared, and the city stands out in the sunlight. We pass in front 
 of palaces reflected in the water, and rising upon the shores 
 of Stamboul like screens put to hide some dirty object, like a 
 rich and gorgeous mantle covering rags. The sun gives a smile 
 to all this, but it is the feigned smile of sorrow. We indulge in 
 these metaphors as we follow the windings of the Bosphorus, 
 with its well-wooded shores, where the cypress and the pine tree 
 form a mass of verdure around the palaces and villas of the rich. 
 The channel winds about, so that one imagines one's self to be first 
 in one lake and then in another. Right and left, we see villas 
 and palaces, meeting steamers which emit guttural cries, and 
 barks with sails swelling like the wings of white swans, and long 
 boats with many oarsmen gliding through the water like a spider 
 moving its legs by automatic short strokes. Then there are the 
 ruins of fortresses, the white tents of the soldiers, and retrench- 
 ments above which the cannon stretch their long headless necks. 
 As we emerge from the Bosphorus we can feel the swell of the 
 Black Sea, angry and agitated, lashing the shore with its waves. 
 We make eastward, and the continent seems to open out to our 
 left, and then the coast is lost in mist to our stern. Upon our 
 right is the land of Asia Minor, parallel with which we are steam- 
 ing, with undulating mountains of no great height skirting the 
 shore, but here and there a snowy peak behind them piercing the 
 clouds. Wc have some fresh passengers on deck — shepherds
 
 •tJ^feft. 
 
 ■^< 
 
 f^_ 
 
 A SAMSUX SHEPHERD.
 
 From Marseilles to Tiflis. 13 
 
 who have brought flocks of sheep to Constantinople, and who are 
 going back to Samsun with their master, a big Turk with a 
 heavy drooping moustache. They have with them enormous 
 long-haired dogs, very surly-looking, and always ready to show 
 their wolfish fangs. The young man who has them in hand looks 
 like a brigand, with the arms in his belt, his kindjal, and his pistol. 
 There is nothing of the opdra comiqite about him as he calls his 
 dogs to order. He is a handsome, well set-up young fellow, 
 dressed in grey frieze, with a yellow handkerchief rolled like a 
 turban around his determined-looking head. His face is broad 
 and bony, with a hooked nose coming out between two prominent 
 cheek-bones, and when he raises his eyelids, which he keeps 
 constantly lowered over his black eyes, he has the look of some 
 startled wild beast. Upon questioning his father, an old man 
 with a white beard, he tells us : " We live two days' journey from 
 Samsun, but we only remain there during the winter. As soon 
 as there is any grass, we wander with our flocks over the plains, 
 and then on the mountains." 
 
 Upon the deck there are some Turks, who either sleep or 
 gossip as they lie curled up amid their garments. They spend 
 their time with apparent satisfaction in playing together like 
 children, or relating stories to one another. Their meals, which 
 are very frequent, always consist of bread, onions, and water. 
 They seem quite happy. 
 
 Persians eoingf to Trebizond with a small caroro of Enorlish 
 cotton goods form a bivouac to themselves. They are well-to-do, 
 and have brought plenty of provisions with them. They keep 
 offering one another cups of tea, and hand them with a great 
 deal of smiling and bowing all round. The ghalyan is kept con- 
 stantly alight, and passed round, each person to whom it is 
 handed drawing a few whifts and handing it on to his neighbour, 
 taking care, as he does so, to display his fingers covered with
 
 14 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 jewelled rings. A young merchant, whose eyes are fringed with 
 antimony, with a very languishing look about him, seems to be 
 the object of general consideration. He plays upon a guitar after 
 the manner of his country, nodding his head very expressively. 
 
 One of the officers of the ship observes to us that these Turks 
 are very uncivilized. 
 
 We ask him why, and he says because they are such fanatics. 
 This answer does not satisfy us. 
 
 DECK PASSENGERS. 
 
 The ship's pantryman says, when the officer has moved away, 
 " The reason is a very simple one ; they have so few wants." 
 
 He looks at the matter from another point of view, and to our 
 mind he is right. Yes, a barely civilized people is one which has 
 few wants ; a more civilized people has more wants, and so on. 
 
 We shall soon get in sight of the lowlands of Samsun, so 
 dreaded by navigators, if only the rain stops. The clouds break, 
 and one can just catch a glimpse of something at the foot of the 
 forests, the trees of which seem to have their roots in the water. 
 It is but the line of a floating mass, and then we see in succession
 
 From Marseilles to Tiflls. 15 
 
 the lighthouse and the white cottage of the keeper. But the differ- 
 ence of level between the sea and the continent is so slio^ht, the 
 land lies so low, that, even when one gets nearer, it looks rather 
 like a floatinof mass than solid soil. 
 
 The next day we reach Trebizond in fine weather. 
 
 The sun is shinina, and the bells of the Greek church rino- 
 out cheerful sounds which put us upon good terms with ourselves. 
 We climb with brisk steps the steep streets of Trebizond, where 
 we are brought to a stop now and again by Herculean Hammales 
 carrying between four of them a heavy load of sugar. The 
 weight must be enormous, and I know of no one but Turks 
 capable of such a task. The town is fairly clean, and it even has 
 
 THE CAPE OF TREBIZOND. 
 
 a square, around which are a number of native cafds. We remark 
 that there are a great many weavers in the bazaar. The popula- 
 tion and aspect of the city remind us both of Auvergne and 
 Aragon, and one view of it reminded us of the French town of 
 Epinal. 
 
 When on the bridge, the view to the left is a purely Eastern 
 one — a ruined fortress with crenulated towers standino- between 
 it and the sea, the blue waters of which may be seen through its 
 battlements. The route which, upon the other side of the bridge, 
 winds along the heights to the east, leads direct to Teheran, and 
 it is the route for the caravans, several of which we see starting. 
 We meet a number of men in dark costumes and sandals, wearing
 
 i6 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 light breeches and jackets, with black bachliks made of fine wool 
 and a narrow silver braid. They have a very energetic and 
 commanding air, and we are told that they are Kurds. 
 
 We next go to the workshop of a Turkish smith near the 
 bazaar, who is noted for making cash-boxes which he fits with 
 very ingenious locks. He tells us that he sells a great many. 
 
 
 TURKISH PORTERS AT TREBIZOND. 
 
 doubtless because there are so many thieves in the country. The 
 master of the establishment, who receives us with the usual 
 affability of the Turks, is about sixty years of age and very 
 intelligent. He has four sons who execute all the finer work. 
 The eldest has worked at Constantinople with Europeans, and he 
 shows us some English illustrated catalogues of machinery. We 
 see some of this machinery in the workshop. They wanted to 
 buy some in France, having seen a model which they liked, but 
 they could not do so, as the manufacturer to whom they wrote 
 did not take the trouble to answer. I was shown his name and
 
 From Marseilles to Tiflis. 
 
 17 
 
 prospectus. Our intelligent fellow-countryman no doubt expected 
 that this worthy Turk, who is quite solvent and enjoys a very 
 good character, would come to Paris and fetch the machine he 
 wanted. The eldest son would very much like to go and see the 
 French workshops, for he has formed a very high idea of our 
 country from what he heard about it from a Marseilles mechanic 
 at Constantinople, but he has not the small capital required, and 
 he is resigned to spend the rest of his days at Trebizond without 
 satisfying his desire to gain instruction. 
 
 ■f:/^^y' 
 
 ANCIENT FORTRESS AT TREBIZOND. 
 
 Having drunk the small cup of coffee which the Turks never 
 fail to offer their guests, we returned on board, carrying away 
 with us a very pleasant impression of our visit. We had found 
 in these people tenacity, initiative, and common sense, which is 
 equivalent to saying that all they wanted to make a large fortune 
 was a favourable opening. 
 
 In the course of the day, our ship discharged a large quantity 
 of sugar from Marseilles ; coffee from the same place, which may 
 
 c
 
 1 8 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 be taken as a proof that one must go to Constantinople to taste 
 it good ; blacking from Lyons ; nails from Paris, and bales of 
 English cotton taken on board at Constantinople ; these latter 
 being hooped with iron, and of such a weight that two cannot 
 be placed on a beast of burden. 
 
 We start at nightfall, and the petroleum lamps of the inhabi- 
 tants, dotted over the town, built like an amphitheatre, shine like 
 so many sparks in the flanks of some dark mass of rock. Then 
 they all disappear in the deep darkness. We remain on deck 
 with our eyes fixed upon the revolving light of the port, which 
 seems to be ever dying out and flaming up again, just as a watch- 
 man overwhelmed with fatigue falls nearly asleep and closes his 
 eyes, only to open them wide again at the call of duty, for the 
 salvation of those afloat. 
 
 Upon the morning of March 8th, we get a dim view of Batum, 
 at the foot of wooded hills rising the one above the other, the 
 loftiest lost in the mist. The town is not picturesque like Trebi- 
 zond ; for it is not spread over an amphitheatre of hills as one 
 comes upon it from the sea, all that one can see being the front of 
 its houses built in regular order, as befits a modern town. 
 
 The first thing we see is the top of the masts, rising above the 
 sombre quadrilateral of the fortress which commands the entrance 
 to the port, and then the old Turkish town in the background, to 
 the left. As we get nearer, we can clearly make out the bodies 
 of soldiers, with their pickaxes and barrows, busily engaged upon 
 making an embankment. But just then we put about to the right 
 and enter the port, where the vessels are crowded together in a 
 very narrow piece of water. 
 
 There are ships of every trading nationality in Europe — 
 Russian, French, English, and Austrian steamers, sailing vessels 
 from Italy, Russia, Turkey, and Greece, which come to fetch the 
 petroleum from Baku.
 
 From Marseilles to Tiflis. 19 
 
 And what an endless number of casks, some lying in rows 
 upon the quay, others being rolled along it, while others, again, 
 are being raised or lowered by the cranes and disappear in the 
 capacious holds of the vessels. The boats which put off from the 
 shore are filled with them, and the carts passing through the streets 
 carry a full load. Some are full and others empty, but they have 
 all held at one time or another the tiaphtha, as the Russians call 
 petroleum, the smell of which is abominable. The planks of the 
 vessels, the sailors' clothes, the land, the very sea, are impregnated 
 with it. There is a sort of oily coating which undulates upon 
 the surface of the sea with the bluish tints of damaskeened 
 work. 
 
 To the north-east, the hovels of the Turkish village, with their 
 blackened facades, seem deserted. The new town, which is full of 
 life and commercial activity, appears to be disdainfully turning its 
 back to the old town, for it is spreading in a westerly direction. 
 It is upon this side of the town that are to be found the railway 
 stations, the shops, the warehouses, the agencies of the different 
 companies, and the countless doukanes (taverns) in which men of 
 all nations come to drink together. The appetite for gain has 
 not been long in making Batum a cosmopolitan town. 
 
 What has made the fortune of this small town, which was 
 quite an insignificant place a few years back ? 
 
 Simply the fact of its having become Russian. In the kingdom 
 of the blind, the one-eyed man is king, and while the Black Sea 
 possesses very few ports, this small place happened to have one — 
 not a very large or good one, but still a port. Whereas Poti, 
 the neighbouring town, the terminus of the Caucasian railway, 
 which has a bar often rendering the port inaccessible for weeks 
 together, was naturally destined to be abandoned as soon as a 
 branch railway to Batum enabled the merchants and traders of 
 the Caucasus to receive and deliver their goods there. If I add
 
 20 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 that PotI is very unhealthy, and Batum rather less so, you will 
 understand why the one is decaying and the other flourishing. 
 
 Batum is very animated, and the population goes in for 
 plenty of amusement, as is often the case with people who are 
 making, or who think they are going to make, their fortune. 
 
 We remained in the town just long enough to receive a visit 
 from the Custom House officers, who were remorseless in their 
 examination, making us pay for all our instruments, and even for 
 a few sticks of chalk. Our boxes were unpacked with much less 
 care than they had been packed. 
 
 Upon the loth of March, we took the train for Tiflis, starting 
 half an hour late, in accordance with what, it appears, is the general 
 custom. The forcing of a motley crowd into the carriage gives 
 rise to something like a riot, and the nonchalance of a stout 
 colonel sauntering up to the train with a cigarette in his mouth, 
 after the bell had rung three times, formed a striking contrast 
 with the aeitation and excitement of the Caucasians. 
 
 The line skirts the sea for a little way, and we remained for 
 some time at the window, looking at the Anatolie which had been 
 decked with flags in our honour by Captain Boschell, the French 
 standard flying from the masthead. Then we entered the virgin 
 forest, and lost sight both of sea and flag. 
 
 What a tangle of trees we passed through, nearly all of them 
 intertwined with creepers, and in many places we saw growing 
 out of the dead trunks lying on the ground vigorous young trees 
 thriving upon the mouldering remains of their ancestors. Upright 
 oaks and hornbeams rose erect over the death and the resurrection 
 at their feet, standing firmly upon their roots which were out 
 of the ground. All these trees formed an inextricable thicket, 
 and in some of the densest parts we saw the wild boars feeding 
 in perfect security. 
 
 Here and there, thatch-roofed huts were to be seen in the
 
 
 m 
 
 
 'j^'" 
 
 
 -VVO 
 
 iiHiiilP
 
 From Marseilles to Tiflis. 
 
 23 
 
 glades, while tracts of ground were covered with Indian corn, 
 erowine around trunks which it had not been thous^ht worth while 
 to root up. Moreover, as there was no lack of wood, it was 
 wasted as much as water is in countries like France and England. 
 The huts are built upon four trunks of trees placed just as they 
 had fallen. In some places, the forest had been cleared by setting 
 it on fire, and the ground around the blackened trunks of the trees 
 had been cultivated. 
 
 As we get nearer Rion, there is less forest, and gradually 
 
 
 
 ^^5^!: 
 
 ^^- 
 
 
 A CLEARING IN THE FOREST. 
 
 we come out upon a bare plain, with mountains tipped with snow 
 upon either side. There were a number of pigs to be seen near 
 all the stations, some of them black and just like domesticated 
 wild boars. They often got under the train while it was in the 
 station, not moving till the bell had been rung for the third time. 
 While the train was stopping, we noticed many passengers and 
 spectators walking up and down the platform in very picturesque 
 costumes, with any number of bourkas and bearskins, cartridge- 
 cases of enamelled silver, kindjals in brilliant sheaths richly gilded,
 
 24 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 the carriers of them looking very proud, while even the wearers of 
 rags bore themselves with no little swagger. 
 
 Just before reaching Rion the valley becomes narrower, and 
 we ascend the incline slowly with the aid of a second engine, 
 so that we have time to get a good view of this picturesque 
 route. 
 
 In one direction and another we see a crumbling tower standing 
 out like a sentry ; a village perched upon some rock like an eagle's 
 nest, a castle in ruins, men on foot shod in sandals, marching with 
 long paces behind their heavily loaded horses, horsemen fully armed 
 for war riding along the river's bank upon lean but high-couraged 
 steeds, a grave-looking shepherd, with his chin leaning upon his 
 staff, enwrapped in thought amid his goats, while the numberless 
 pigs with their long bristles are too busy feeding to bestow a look 
 upon us. Vehicles, with very low wheels, drawn by small oxen, 
 descend the hills, and as the front part touches the ground, they 
 are a sort of a cross between a sledge and a cart. They are used 
 for the carriage of timber and fragments of rock. 
 
 We still continue to ascend, and the forests reappear, with 
 snow lying in the hollows. We twist and turn about, go through 
 many tunnels and cross the boiling, bubbling, noisy and impetuous 
 river at least twenty times. Azaleas and rhododendrons are to be 
 seen nearly all along the route. Another engine helps to push us 
 from behind, and at last we reach the watershed about sunset. 
 Here we are confronted by a splendid piece of Alpine scenery, 
 and at night we descend to Tiflis, skirting the Kur, which 
 is a large stream even when we first see it. 
 
 We remained at Tiflis until we had received from St. Peters- 
 burg some papers which were intended to facilitate our entrance 
 into the Transcaspian provinces. Upon the 20th of March, all 
 our papers being in proper order and the indispensable purchases 
 made, we left Tiflis, and, having been so lucky as to meet M. de
 
 From Marseilles to Tiflis. 
 
 25 
 
 Balloy, the French Minister at Teheran, who was returning to his 
 post with his wife, we obtained his permission to let our baggage 
 go on with his. The baggage is to be sent by rail to Baku, by 
 sea to Reshd, and by mules to Teheran, where we are to meet it. 
 This enables us to go to Reshd overland. We are urged not 
 to do so, being assured that we shall have to traverse a land 
 of robbers who live in impenetrable forests ; that we shall find 
 nothing but rough footpaths, and that there are no inns or resting- 
 places on the road. But the country is very little known, and as 
 
 '^^^ ^ .arrf>. '^f 
 
 
 THE STEPPE. 
 
 we have plenty of time before us, we take the opportunity of 
 seeing some very interesting scenery. We only take with us 
 what is strictly necessary, enough to load two horses, and our 
 arms. 
 
 Having said good-bye to our friends in Tiflis, we join the train 
 and gradually ascend the illuminated valley of the Kur. 
 
 The next morning, we wake up and find ourselves once more 
 in the familiar steppe. To the left are the undulating grey moun- 
 tains ; while to the right, as well as in front of us and behind us, the
 
 26 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 plain stretches as far as the horizon. Horsemen are dotted about 
 here and there, while sheep and camels can be dimly made out 
 standing around black specks near the surface of the ground, 
 which are tents. The day grows, the sun shines out, the moun- 
 tains are radiant with a thousand hues, and the illuminated 
 steppe becomes full of animation. The pools glitter in the sun- 
 light, and the transformation scene has been a very rapid and 
 complete one. But the living images which we fancy that we 
 can touch with the finger retreat before us ; and at the approach 
 of the engine the water seems to evaporate. We look behind us, 
 and again we seem to see it sparkling in the light. We are 
 passing full speed through an immense mirage. There can be 
 no doubt about our being in the deceitful steppe ; while, to com- 
 plete the illusion, we see in the distance immense columns of 
 smoke twisting and twirling like some umbelliferous plant upon 
 a crooked stalk. 
 
 J"^' 
 
 
 
 A GAZELLE.
 
 i,^^:^8>.-i->4^*.. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FROM TIFLIS TO RESHD. 
 
 On wheels — Saliane — Native types — Rain and its effects — Sectaries — The land of 
 mud — Upon the sea-shore — More virgin forests — On the Persian frontier — The 
 population ; its mode of living and idleness — Feudalism — Scenes of feudal life — 
 Scenery in the Talich country; dwellings, custom, education, serfage, music and 
 medicine. 
 
 In the afternoon we leave the train at Hadji Cabul, the station 
 for which is in the middle of the steppe. We are in the Tartar 
 country, the population of which is Turkish. This side of the 
 Caspian Sea is very like the other. The types, however, differ, 
 for on this side the mixture of Caucasian and Persian blood 
 is very distinct, and the men are tall, with fine features and 
 straight noses. You can see that a short and stunted race of men 
 has been fined down by crossing with an elegant and sinewy race. 
 We send to the posting-house to order horses, and after a 
 meal, we take our seats upon numerous bundles of hay and start
 
 28 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 off to the music of the bells on the collars of the horses, which are 
 excellent and go a very good pace. The perikladnaia in which 
 we are taking our ease is as comfortable as it was when we tried 
 it at the time of our first visit ; it is still devoid of springs. The 
 roads have got their full allowance of ruts, and some of the jolts 
 are heart-breaking. But our sojourn in Paris has not deprived 
 us of all agility, and so we can keep our balance and still watch 
 the glorious sunset. 
 
 The " open letters," it appears, entitle us to an escort, which 
 is quite useless, and we are accompanied by three horsemen, armed 
 with a sword and a gun. They gallop alongside of us, and from 
 time to time treat us to the spectacle of a "djiguitovka," a Turkish 
 word, which is equivalent to cutting figures on horseback. 
 
 Reaching Saliane on the 22nd of March, and finding that rain 
 threatened, we purchase some felt manufactured by the Tartars. 
 It is not equal to that made by the Khirgiz people. With this 
 felt we covered our two large flasks. Saliane is built along a bend 
 of the Kur. The wooden houses are built around large squares. 
 The bulk of the poi)ulation is Tartar, though there are a good 
 many Persians, Armenians, and Russians. They nearly all make 
 their living by fishing for sturgeon, with which the river abounds, 
 and which are smoked and exported. 
 
 The Mussulman bazaar is closed, and we see only a few fruit- 
 sellers seated under their straw shelters, and vendors of salt 
 brought, as we are told, from Khiva and the Turkoman country. 
 In the shops kept by Armenians or Russians, cotton stuffs and 
 earthenware goods from Russia, both of inferior make, are offered 
 for sale. This is the Mahometan New Year's Day, and that is 
 why the bazaar is closed. The inhabitants are walking about 
 arrayed in their best clothes. The tight-fitting tcherkeskas, with 
 their long skirts, are not so often to be seen ; they are worn 
 shorter and in many cases open at the breast, not coming lower
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 31 
 
 than the knee. Upon the other hand, the sheepskin headdress 
 is higher and broader at the top. The people are shod differently, 
 too, for instead of wearing high boots, they have a sort of broad 
 slipper, curling up at the toe, with a wooden heel coming in under 
 the hollow of the foot, so that the heel projects. The feet are 
 bare or encased in woollen socks, many of which have coloured 
 figures on them. It is necessary to acquire the habit of wearing 
 these shoes, for, as one of my friends observed, they give one the 
 sensation of walking upon potatoes. 
 
 Upon the occasion of this great festival of the NouroiLZ (New 
 Year), the Shiite Mahometans dye themselves with henna ; nearly 
 all their hands, beards, and hair being flaming red. There are 
 a great many people in the streets, and there is an air of joy and 
 gaiety among them all. 
 
 It was with the greatest difficulty that we induced a native 
 saddler to sew the felt around our flasks. He was very anxious 
 to take part in the rejoicings, but as soon as we offered him a good 
 sum for his work, he sat down with a smiling face, and when we 
 came back to the posting-house for our meal, he had finished. 
 We determine to go and sleep at Tisiakent, which is only a 
 village. The steppe commences near the Kur, and at rare 
 intervals we see hamlets with houses surrounded by a great many 
 hedges. There is no lack of land, but the inhabitants are very 
 few, though there is no fear of drought, not at least this year, for 
 rain has been falling in torrents. 
 
 The rain continues to fall when we start the next day (March 
 23rd), and continues all along the route. This is why the mud- 
 built houses have steep thatched roofs, in order that the water 
 may run off very quickly. This is an indispensable precaution 
 wherever rain is frequent. These roofs lend a singular appear- 
 ance to the landscape, which reminds me of the French Bocage 
 (a district in Brittany), though I do not for a moment want to
 
 32 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 argue that there is any simiHtude of race or character. It is 
 simply due to the laws of gravity and the desire to keep dry. 
 
 Here we are in a country where the Turkish language is 
 spoken, but at Andreieff, Prichip, and the succeeding stations, 
 we enter quite another world. It is only in the gigantic empire 
 of the Czars that one comes upon such surprises as this. Here 
 we see houses constructed after the Russian fashion, with straight 
 streets, fields carefully cultivated, green fields with herds of cattle, 
 and sturdy Russian horses. This country is inhabited by the 
 descendants of sectaries named Malakanes, I question our Tartar 
 postilion as to why these Russians had left their country. His 
 reply was, " Because they were required to make the sign of the 
 cross three times, and they would only make it once," 
 
 The country is very fertile, but unhealthy ; the roads are 
 abominable, but our excellent teams pull us out of this sea of 
 mud, which tells us that we are getting into the Guilan. Guilan 
 means the "land of mud," and very appropriately is it named. 
 At Andreieff, a good woman asks us for medical advice. She is 
 old, eaten up with fever, and very weak. To use her own phrase — 
 she feels death coming. 
 
 " There is a great deal of fever in the country," we observe. 
 
 " A great deal. Many people die of it." 
 
 " Why do you remain here ? " 
 
 " I was born here, and the land is very rich." 
 
 Through habit, man lives in climates which are fatal to him, 
 and in poverty ; he cannot even console himself with the thought 
 that the soil is good, and illness, combined with the atmosphere 
 in which he moves, takes from him all idea or ambition of im- 
 proving his condition. 
 
 From Prichip, a village of wealthy Malakanes, we make our 
 way across country, but we should not have got very far had it 
 not been for our excellent horses. What mud ! What jolting !
 
 D
 
 From Tiflis to Resiid. 35 
 
 What ups and downs ! The postiHon is constantly losing his 
 seat and falling back on to his horse's quarters. He only laughs, 
 and whips them on the more. All the way to Kizil-Agatch we 
 jump rather than drive. We come to some ponds, and on the 
 right we see mountains covered with forests. We are descending 
 towards the Caspian, whence comes this very trying rain. 
 
 We leave Kizil-Agatch in better weather, the rain having 
 stopped, though the sky is still dark, and there is a likelihood of 
 fresh storms. The mud is still very deep. To our left is the 
 plain, to our right mountains covered with forests and obscured 
 by the mist, and in front the gaping void of the Caspian Sea. 
 We drive along past pools which swarm with water-fowl, in- 
 cluding ducks, teal, herons, cormorants, etc., with eagles swooping 
 overhead. Then we go through some gorse, where there are 
 plenty of foxes. We still continue going downhill towards the 
 sea, through lowlands which are the home of fever. 
 
 Then we come to some sands, which tell us that the station is 
 not far off — as it is named Kum, which means sand — nor the sea 
 either for the matter of that. The posting-house is in the middle 
 of a rose bank, at the edge of a small bay, where we see fishermen 
 bringing live fish to shore and taking on board boxes of smoked 
 fish. 
 
 From Kumbachi we go to Lenkoran by a sandy road. We 
 are in full view of the open sea, with the extremity of the Bay of 
 Kizil-Agatch to the north, while the steamer from Baku is visible 
 in the distance when we enter Lenkoran, with its houses all built 
 along the shore. There are a great many fishing-boats about, 
 but the bazaar is closed, as the holiday is still being observed, and 
 the Tartars, all dyed with henna, are sauntering about in their 
 best attire. 
 
 Lenkoran is only famous for the fever engendered by the 
 marshes to the west of the town.
 
 36 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 We get out at the posting-house, which is the last on Russian 
 territory, for further on there are only pathways, and we shall 
 have to continue our journey on horseback. We pay our respects 
 to the chief of the district, who places at our disposal one of his 
 policemen who speaks Russian and Turkish. He promises to 
 bring us the next day a man who will supply us with as many 
 horses as we want. The interpreter is an asthmatic Mussulman, 
 wearing the tcherkeska with much grace. He attributes his 
 illness, which he treats sometimes with talismans, sometimes with 
 indifference, to the climate. 
 
 LENKORAN. 
 
 He comes to us on the 25th of March, about eight in the 
 evening, with a very small Tartar, wearing a very high caftan, and 
 very obsequious. He warmly recommends him, and overloads 
 him with praise. The Tartar listens with a very demure air, and 
 whenever I look at him, he makes a profound bow and has his 
 hands crossed over his stomach. 
 
 "You can put all confidence in him," said the police officer; 
 " he is an honest man, well known all along the route you are 
 travelling, and universally respected. As a proof that I am not 
 deceiving you, I may add that he is allowed to go into the 
 women's rooms."
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 
 
 2>7 
 
 " Surely not ? " 
 
 " Yes, into the women's rooms. Moreover, he is rich, and has 
 a fine house at Lenkoran. He is the most honest man of my 
 acquaintance," etc. 
 
 How could one fail to be satisfied with so rare a jewel ? And 
 thereupon we enter into a discussion upon the subject of horses, 
 coming to an agreement after an hour of feints, attacks, retorts, 
 and bargaining. At noon, we make a start with five horses, three 
 for riding and two for carrying baggage. We purchase a few 
 
 
 .^^>^^Ai^e}'r'..k^^^i.^,^^iii!£iA^^^kst^Jli^fsii 
 
 ■'»'iriftfiirntiir---''--"'^-"'^TiiiiiirTa -rr-'^ii-'-'^'^-^'^-s'-^-^^*"* 
 
 TARTAR HOUSES AND DRESSES. 
 
 provisions in the bazaar, three bourkas, and three whips. We 
 hurriedly write three letters which we take to the last post-office, 
 where we see a new portrait of the new Czar in an old frame. 
 
 About noon, the little Tartar arrives in the company of three 
 or four lanky fellows, their hands red with henna, with long faces 
 like the Persians, who make us a profound bow and look very 
 lugubrious. 
 
 " These are the men who are to accompany me," observed the 
 little Tartar.
 
 2,8 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 After we have made their acquaintance, they stand aside, in a 
 very respectful attitude. 
 
 " You can load the baggage, and then we will start." 
 
 All four bow in token of assent, whereupon the little Tartar 
 remarks in a very insinuating tone — 
 
 " But that will be rather difficult, for we have only two horses 
 ready. The others will not be so till this evening." 
 
 " Why this delay ? " 
 
 " They are not shod. By daybreak to-morrow, everything 
 will be in readiness, and we shall reach Astara about noon. And 
 if it is not done as I have said, you can cut off this ear, and the 
 other one too. Vallah ! " 
 
 As we know that the road, after leaving Lenkoran, is either 
 sandy or muddy, and that at no part is it stony, we conclude that 
 the horses do not v/ant shoeing, and that the Tartar is lying. 
 
 " Will you pay to-morrow ten roubles for each horse not shod, 
 and then I will believe that the reason you allege is the real one ? " 
 
 The little Tartar, with his tall head-gear, sees that I do not 
 take him on trust, and he begins to smile, while his companions 
 laugh outright. In reality, they want to enjoy the holiday, and 
 they eventually admit it is so, saying, " To-morrow will be less 
 holiday, and then all will be for the best." We give way to their 
 wish ; because there is no help for it, and they take themselves 
 off, after making a profound obeisance, laughing and joking 
 among themselves. 
 
 This little incident is a warning to us that the journey has 
 begun in earnest, for here is an unexpected delay. When one 
 starts, it is advisable to say to one's self that not a minute shall be 
 lost on the way, just as if one had made a bet to go round the 
 world in eighty days, and, in the course of the journey, one finds 
 that it is necessary to have patience and not be in more of a 
 hurry than if one had eighty years to do it in. There is no good
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 41 
 
 in making a fuss, either ; for those who are passionate learn 
 to be calm and become astonished at the easy way in which they 
 take matters, while persons usually calm will find it impossible to 
 keep their temper. One may conclude from this that travel forms 
 the mind and character to some extent. 
 
 We take advantage of the leisure which the commencement 
 of the Mussulman year enforces on us to purchase some little 
 luxuries, such as Caucasus raisins and dried apricots from 
 Mazenderan. 
 
 After that, we go and try our luck in the marshes, but w^e 
 only get very dirty, and fail to kill a single duck or cormorant. 
 From there we go and get a mouthful of pure air upon the sandy 
 shore of the raging Caspian, which is kind enough to wash all the 
 mud off our boots. Thus man utilizes the forces of nature. 
 
 The Tartar had undertaken to be ready before daybreak, but 
 at six o'clock the horses had not arrived. At the last moment, 
 it turned out that six would be required, and not five as it w^as 
 agreed yesterday. The Tartar laments his hard fate, and his 
 comrades try to make us believe that we have too much luggage, 
 and that six, or even seven horses will be required to carry it. 
 This was the usual comedy, the denouement of it being that we 
 had to pay for an extra horse. 
 
 We remind the Tartar that he had offered us one of his ears 
 yesterday if he was late, and that late he was. But he is so 
 obsequious, and praises our goodness in such flattering terms, that 
 we do not deprive him of his ear. W^e start amid driving rain, 
 and upon leaving Lenkoran, we have to cross a river swollen by 
 the floods. We follow our guide with precaution, for our little 
 horses are up to their chests in water, and we up to our knees. 
 
 As our long cloaks are immersed in the water, they form quite 
 a heavy weight upon our shoulders, and we feel as if we were 
 crossing a river of glue, or as if some capricious water-sprite was
 
 42 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 pulling us from behind and inviting us to descend with her into 
 her fairy abode. The truth is that we are entangled in our ac- 
 coutrements, that the stream is rapid, and that if our horses slipped, 
 we should be carried off like so many leaves. 
 
 The forest commences on the other side of the river. After 
 floundering about in some sticky mud, we reach the sand on the 
 river bank and follow it as long as we can. 
 
 Our horses trot gently along, the water just washing their 
 hoofs, and then all of a sudden they start off and begin to jib, 
 those who are riding in the rear getting quite wet with the water 
 their heels throw up. Upon the summit of the steep bank, the 
 thatch of a Tartar hut may be seen at intervals, and then we come 
 to deep cavities in the bank, and to marshy pools surrounded by 
 virgin forests. We can discern willows, acacias, and elms all 
 bound together by gigantic creepers ; the timber caught in the 
 toils of a net formed by the refuse of vegetation. 
 
 Here may be seen all the birds of creation. Some of the 
 branches are covered with clusters of cormorants, crows, and 
 magpies ; upon the summit of the elms may be seen quantities of 
 vultures and eagles ; in the marsh are flamingoes, cranes, spoon- 
 bills, and long-legged herons ; falcons and stone falcons, with their 
 long claws, are eating the fish which they have caught perched 
 on a branch, or are skimming the surface, with open beaks, and 
 ready to harpoon anything within their reach. Above our heads 
 are flying the swans and the pelicans, all in a line, and with necks 
 like travelling bags. A shot at a duck elicits cries of terror from 
 this tribe of birds, and there is such a concert of croaking, quack- 
 ing, screeching, and cawing as never was heard. The din quite 
 deafens us, and it is all in vain that the Caspian beats time with 
 her swell, regulated by the north-easter. Then, as the noise 
 faded away, there was nothing to be heard but the hissing of the 
 cormorants, and the gulls chattering like Turkish women at a
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 
 
 43 
 
 well ; the pelicans with their protuberant crops had lapsed into 
 silence, and were to be seen winging their flight through the air. 
 
 After passing by several woodmen's huts, close to the path 
 we were following, we cross a plain and two streams with ferries ; 
 one at Chak-Agatch, and another at Kaladagni, where fishermen 
 were waiting for a return of fine weather, encamped under canvas 
 which had been dipped in tar to make it rain-proof. They were 
 Russians, Cossacks, and Kalmucks, easy of recognition by reason 
 
 ON THE SHORE OF THE CASPIAN SEA. 
 
 of their Mongol features. They were smoking to pass away the 
 time. The rain, which had stopped for a time, began to come 
 down again in torrents, and the sea was very high. We march 
 away from it in order to shorten our route. 
 
 After having crossed several torrents, and floundered out of 
 one morass into another, we reach Astara in pouring rain, at 
 night- fall. We can just see the square brick house with zinc roof 
 of the Customs, and we knock at the door of the next house, where 
 the Merkur and Kavkas Company has its counting-house. Our
 
 44 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 arrival had been expected, and we find snug quarters, that is to 
 say, benches to sit upon, and wooden planks to lie full length 
 upon, and a roaring stove to dry our clothes. A dozen eggs and 
 as many glasses of tea apiece soon make us feel ourselves again. 
 
 The agent of the company, a very pleasant man, tells us that 
 we shall probably be unable to cross the swollen river to-morrow ; 
 but that with a very short spell of fine weather the ferry will be 
 practicable. There is no large boat, nothing but very rickety 
 canoes, hewn out of the trunks of trees. 
 
 Our men confirm this view ; and they exaggerate the condition 
 of affairs, being in no hurry to start again in such bad weather. 
 They are very disappointed at not being able to go and spend the 
 night in the Persian village on the other side, as they have many 
 acquaintances there. 
 
 This part of the country is partially cultivated, and the 
 Tartars grow rice in it. They are, it appears, incredibly lazy, 
 scarcely taking the trouble to till the soil, and lying in the fields 
 while their women-folk are sowing the seed ; and when the 
 harvest comes round, rather than reap it themselves, they make 
 over a third to the mountaineers, who come down and do the 
 work. When the time comes for transplanting the rice, the 
 women and children are left to do it, the men going to fish or to 
 sleep, which is their favourite occupation. The Armenian told us 
 that they are too lazy even to steal. One could hardly have 
 thought that laziness could be an incentive to honesty. Though 
 why not, seeing that moralists tell us that all faults have their 
 corresponding virtues ! 
 
 It is very true that the Tartars are lazy, for we had ocular as 
 well as oral evidence of the fact. They live in miserable mud 
 huts, with thatched roofs, or huts made of reeds with a thin facing 
 of mud ; and yet there is plenty of timber to be had close at hand. 
 They are shivering with cold and damp for want of a combustible,
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 45 
 
 which it would give them so Httle trouble to procure. It is often 
 the case that wood is dearer at Astara, in sight of splendid forests, 
 than it is at Baku, where it is imported from Persia. They are 
 very badly fed, living chiefly on rice, gherkins, and melons, and 
 yet the soil is rich. They are badly clad and sickly, eaten up by 
 fever ; and they have the reputation of being more inclined to 
 anger than tenacity of purpose. They are free with their formid- 
 able long knives (kindjals), but they do not care to use the 
 pickaxe. Their temperament is that of a race with high-strung 
 nerves, whose blood has been impoverished by an unwholesome 
 climate. 
 
 It is raining when we awake, but not so hard as the day 
 before. Our tcharvadars (muleteers), who are paid by the day, 
 tell us that it is the finger of Providence, that the river is impass- 
 able, and that it will be better to wait till to-morrow. To-day, 
 the water would be up to a man's neck ; and a horse with a load 
 on his back would be entirely submerged. They add that it is 
 impossible to start, " unless we wish for the death of the Mussul- 
 mans." And they swear by their beards that they are honest 
 men. We annul the agreement, and send to hire horses in the 
 Persian village. We intend starting the next day, whatever the 
 weather may be. We have engaged a man named Amman, a 
 former sailor, inspector of works, and fisherman ; but at present 
 a smuggler and so forth. He speaks Russian, and is by no means 
 devoid of intelligence. He understands Persian, and can speak 
 it fairly well ; while Turkish is his national tongue. So he makes 
 a good interpreter. 
 
 The rain stopped for a little during the morning, so we were 
 able to ferry across the river. We had no need to entrust our 
 persons to the herculean Kurd, with his broad, savage face, who 
 with great dexterity guided his kotdasse (canoe) with a pole. We 
 had more difficulty in getting through the mortar with which the
 
 46 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 road through the bazaar leading to the residence of the village 
 chief is made. We find the chief a charming little man, very 
 smartly attired, with white socks, blue trousers, an open black 
 tunic, and an astrachan head-dress. He is extremely polite, very 
 dignified, and very effeminate in his manners ; and he has a way 
 of bending his little finger, upon which he wears a turquoise ring 
 which a milliner showing off lace to a customer might envy. 
 After waiting three-quarters of an hour, a guide arrives, and we 
 take leave of him, much, apparently, to his regret. He says, 
 " What a pity that you are leaving. My district is at your orders. 
 I would have executed all your wishes. If I was not expecting 
 one of my superiors, I would accompany you. May God be with 
 you ! " and so on. 
 
 His residence was a thatched house, at the extremity of a 
 large courtyard, shut in by a reed fence. The entrance was by 
 a low doorway, and the first apartment was the drawing-room, in 
 which the chief sat cross-legged in the midst of his assessors ; 
 one of them handing him the pen, another ink, and the third the 
 paper he was to sign. 
 
 He had scarcely time to bring himself back into a perpen- 
 dicular position, after having bent himself double to bow us out, 
 when the rain began to fall again in torrents. What mud, and 
 what a quantity of it ! At a distance of about a mile and a half, 
 we came to the somewhat important river of Khodjikara. The 
 horses are unloaded, and the baggage placed in canoes ; the 
 horses, having been unsaddled, swim across, while the men 
 undress and get into the water so as to gain time and not pay 
 anything for the ferry. We cross several fever-breeding marshes, 
 and we then skirt the sea for some distance, partly on the sand, 
 partly on the high ground above it.' 
 
 The rain continues to fall. Our men run along with their bare 
 feet, going faster than our horses, which are but sorry steeds.
 
 From Tiflis to Resiid. 47 
 
 At many points the road is intersected by watercourses. To 
 our right a chain of mountains, all about the same height, shut in 
 the horizon with their wooded slopes. At a distance, these 
 mountains seem as if they had been planted with trees which 
 had been regularly trimmed by the hand of man ; something like 
 the toys made in Germany for children, only upon a larger scale. 
 In places, the trees are so covered with snow that they look as if 
 their tops had been powdered. 
 
 
 - ■ 
 
 
 
 
 ¥■ 
 
 
 
 *_ :ti^ 
 
 [.^.^^^^ 
 
 .A .-. 
 
 ^_^^ 
 
 — Ji:" 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 y§^^^ 
 
 
 
 
 ^^W^^ 
 
 - -- 
 
 Afi 
 
 
 ...::'■• 
 
 
 IN A CANOE, 
 
 Entering the forest, we reach Visna, where, as our guide 
 informs us, the authority of his chief at Astara ends. He obsti- 
 nately refuses to go any further, in spite of threats and promises. 
 We request him to take us to the chief of the village, and, after 
 going through marshes, trees, and a sea of mud, we manage at 
 last to reach a glade, where stands a thatch-covered house, with 
 a long gallery, each pillar of which is formed of the trunk of 
 a tree scarcely stripped of its bark. Long-haired wolf dogs greet 
 us with barking which is not by any means friendly, and they
 
 48 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 bite our horses in the leo-s. A few orood blows with a stick 
 drive them off, and from the thickets emerge a number of tattered- 
 looking individuals, each with a long pruning-hook in his hand. 
 They have very little clothes of any kind, and they appear more 
 surprised than alarmed at our appearance. 
 
 From the door of one of the rooms emergfe the heads of 
 women of all ages, with a tribe of children between their legs. 
 In another very large room, grouped around a brazier, are a 
 number of men squatting in a circle. 
 
 We ask for the chief. First one man speaks, then another, 
 and then a third ; but none of them is the chief. We insist upon 
 seeing him, and at last an aged man thinks fit to leave his place 
 by the fire and come forward. He has a white beard, and is very 
 laconic in speech. We ask him for a guide, and offer to pay for 
 his services. But he will not listen to us, and goes back to warm 
 himself. We threaten him with Chah, a neighbouring chief, but 
 this does not intimidate him, and he declares that he is not afraid 
 of any one. The thirty men around him appear to share his 
 views, and we leave, after having told the old savage that we 
 shall inform the khan how the chief of Visna despises him. If 
 any unpleasant consequences follow, so much the worse for him. 
 
 The old man has evidently been impressed by what we have 
 said, for a man soon overtakes us and goes on in front, cutting 
 off with his pruning-hook the branches which came in our way. 
 It appears that we made a blunder in invoking the authority 
 of the Khan of Karganrud, who is hated in this district, which 
 is subject to the Khan of Khevir. 
 
 We only got a guide when it was found that we were going 
 to the latter's residence that same evening. 
 
 We reach Khevir, in the midst of the partially cleared forest, 
 before nightfall, Rakim-Khan offering us hospitality in one of 
 his houses, which was made cheerful by a bright fire.
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 
 
 49 
 
 We were wet to the skin, and glad to swelter in the heat and 
 smoke. The fire was burning in one of those chimneys peculiar 
 to the country which are not, properly speaking, chimneys at all, 
 inasmuch as the draught is created by the door. The faggots are 
 piled up in an earthen niche, very like those in which the figures 
 of saints are placed, and, when they are alight, a tongue of flame 
 springs up, licks the side of the niche and reaches up above the 
 summit, so that, as there is no fire without smoke, the volume of 
 smoke is such that it compels those who are standing up to sit 
 
 <-_ --v 
 
 down, and sometimes those who are seated to lie flat on the 
 floor, this being the case when the pressure of the atmosphere 
 is very great, as on the present occasion. It is in this posture 
 that the khan finds us v/hen he comes to pay us a visit, in the 
 company of his cousin, and has served for us a simple but very 
 delicious meal, consisting of enormous salmon trout, stewed to 
 perfection, rice done in fat, cream, and dried grapes. 
 
 Rakim is a man of middle height, with regular features, and 
 brown hair, wearing the astrachan hat of the country, an open 
 tunic with brass buttons, breeches of gray frieze, and leather 
 
 E
 
 50 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 abarcas kept in their place, like the " carbatinse " of antiquity, 
 by thongs of plaited wool. His cousin, a younger man than him- 
 self, wears the official blue tunic of the Persians, Both of them 
 have a kindjal in their belts. 
 
 Rakim returns us with interest the compliments we pay 
 him, and he informs us that he goes down each winter into 
 his fief to inspect his property, receive his due, hear any com- 
 plaints, and settle any squabbles. In the winter, he lives up in 
 the mountain. His cousin has spent two years at Teheran, 
 but he found life very dull there, and he has now returned 
 to Khevir. 
 
 The khan has difficulties with a neighbour, one of his rela- 
 tives, who is constantly trying to pick a quarrel with him, and 
 who wishes, to use our servitor's expression, " to buy his land 
 without money." He complains bitterly of his enemy's want of 
 respect, and says that he has just insulted him very much, a propos 
 of the New Year, by not coming to pay him the first visit, as, 
 being the younger of the two, it would have been etiquette for 
 him to have done. The serfs of Rakim are being continually 
 ill-treated, and he cannot avoid reprisals. Matters are becoming 
 envenomed, and will end badly. 
 
 When the khans send their servitors to each other, these 
 latter are badly received, and the breach becomes wider each 
 day. Rakim knows that we are going to Teheran, where he has 
 an elder brother attached to the shah's household. He would 
 be much obliged if we would tell his brother that the land of 
 Khevir, for a hundred years in his family, is in danger of being 
 lost, and that the intervention of the shah would be of ereat 
 service. 
 
 I asked him why he did not write a letter to this effect, and 
 he told us that his letters were always intercepted before they 
 reached Teheran,
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 51 
 
 The khan asks us to give him advice as to his eyes and those 
 of several of his attendants, and he then withdraws. To-morrow 
 he is to accompany us to the frontier of his domain. We leave 
 for Kareanrud in the mornino-, with the sun for once conde- 
 scending to shine. A few men, carrying Peabody rifles and long 
 knives (kindjals), precede us. The khan on horseback, with 
 two running footmen, also goes on in front. They are all well 
 armed, the khan's young cousin having a revolver in his belt. 
 We plunge into the depths of the virgin forest, and the route, 
 by a winding pathway, is a charming one. An hour or two like 
 this, spent amid a beneficent and smiling nature, is enough to 
 compensate for weeks and months of fatigue and disappointment. 
 
 We are in a wood of wild pomegranate trees and wild briars, 
 which grow beneath the tall acacias and beeches all covered with 
 creepers, while many other large trees, which have been split in 
 half by thunderstorms and bent to the ground have, like Antaeus, 
 shot up afresh from the soil, with renewed vigour, upright and 
 full of life. They are like the peoples whom misfortune only 
 casts down, to raise them up again and rejuvenate them. On the 
 ground, anemones, violets, and Easter daisies are revelling in 
 the sun like us ; the moss is getting green, the birds are singing, 
 and all is calm and bright. But, in our enjoyment of being alive, 
 we cannot hear the dull roar of the sea on our left ; yet it is very 
 close to us — so close, that through the branches we can catch 
 a glimpse of its foaming waves. The horsemen go in single 
 file through the wood, and they stoop down when the khan, with 
 his knife, has not cut off the prickly branches which threaten to 
 scratch the faces of his guests. There is a succession of ferries, 
 and, as we pass one of them, we see a fisherman land a fine 
 salmon very cleverly by hooking him under the stomach. The 
 khan offers us the fish, as he is master of everything which swims 
 in the water as well as what flies in the air. We refuse the gift ;
 
 52 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 and the serf continues his fishing, while the lord goes on his way, 
 not a word havino- been exchanged. 
 
 We emerge from the forest and follow the sea-shore, along 
 which millions of shells have been thrown up high and dry. Our 
 horses, as they step upon them, make a clatter with their hoofs like 
 the sound of distant bells ringing a merry peal. We are not the 
 only travellers, for there are long lines of pelicans and swans 
 overhead, but they are flying northward. Each one goes his own 
 way in this world. The khans accompany us as far as the limit 
 of their domains, near a river. Upon the other side we see a reed 
 hut, with armed men outside it. 
 
 The khans bid us good-bye, after having alighted from their 
 horses ; and Rakim begs us not to forget the commission he 
 gave us for Teheran. 
 
 Whereupon, we cross the ferry, and are upon the territory of 
 our late host's enemy. The armed men come to see us across, as 
 their duty is to exact toll from those who enter their master's 
 territory, forming a post of Customs officers, with the faces of 
 brigands. They exchange a few words with our interpreter, and 
 having learned who we were, they salute us respectfully. 
 
 About five in the evening, we reach Karganrud by a route 
 which would not be a bad one for horses of rather a better stamp 
 than ours. Horsemen sent by the khan invite us to repair to the 
 •* castle," where we are expected. We do not arrive there until 
 it is pitch dark, after a march of two hours through a terrible 
 slough of mud, and after having crossed the river, the bed of 
 which is very broad and covered with rough stones, one of which 
 makes our servant's horse stumble and sends him over its head to 
 take an involuntary bath. We are shown to a bedroom, the walls 
 of which are whitewashed, with recesses to serve as hanging 
 cupboards or wardrobes, while a table and three chairs, of 
 European shape, tell us that the master of the house has been in
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 
 
 53 
 
 contact with the West. We are surrounded by a host of servants, 
 all with the long knife suspended from their sides ; and it is with 
 difficulty that we shake ourselves free of their unwelcome atten- 
 tions. At last they go off to bed, after having announced that the 
 khan will come and pay us a visit in the morning. 
 
 He comes, as a matter of fact, almost before we are dressed, 
 
 A TALICH MAN-AT-ARMS. 
 
 with a numerous suite in attendance. He presents us to his 
 brother-in-law and a cousin who accompany him. He asks us 
 where we are going, and what is the object of our journey ; and 
 he is delighted to have the opportunity of getting in a word of 
 French now and then. He even contrives to frame a few rude
 
 54 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 phrases, but he scarcely understands the plainest replies. He has 
 recourse to our Interpreter, who speaks the Tallch Turkish to him. 
 The khan remarks that our man has the accent of the country, 
 and asks him how he comes to be a Russian subject, and whether 
 he is not Tallch. He reproaches him with having left his country ; 
 and when Amman tells him that he is a native of Ardebil, the 
 khan knits his eyebrows, for he detests the men of that tribe. 
 
 The khan is small, thin, and sinewy ; he has a head like a 
 vulture, with a long neck, aquiline nose, large black eyes, and bad 
 expression. He smiles a good deal, and displays small, pointed 
 teeth. He Is very much master of himself, puts very insidious 
 questions, and replies to ours without any hurry. He is evidently 
 a very suspicious man, with the feline ways of a tiger, and he 
 makes Amman very uncomfortable. Every one who comes near 
 him is afraid of him. 
 
 We ask him to breakfast with us, and he replies, " Yes, If you 
 will allow me," with a most obsequious smile. While breakfast is 
 being got ready, he proposes that we should take a walk, and he 
 profits by the opportunity to ply us with questions. 
 
 " Why have you no majesty in your country ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " You know, but you won't tell me." 
 
 " Perhaps because the people will not have one." 
 
 " Why will they not have a majesty ? " 
 
 " Because they prefer to be the majesty themselves." 
 
 " That Is impossible, There can only be one majesty. I do 
 not understand." 
 
 I take good care not to try and explain to him what he does 
 not understand. 
 
 " MacMahon Is the chief In France." 
 
 " No; he is not so any longer. He has been succeeded by 
 
 Gi >> 
 revy.
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 55 
 
 " What did Grevy do with MacMahon ? Did he turn him out 
 of France ? " 
 
 " No ; they both live in Paris." 
 
 This is too much for the khan, who communicates to his 
 brother-in-law the astonishment this statement causes him. It is 
 evident that he does not believe me. 
 
 "And MacMahon does nothing? He does not attempt to 
 avenge himself ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 This ends the subject. We have just reached the summit of a 
 hill, some way from our dwelling-place, and to the left we see 
 a large house, which appears to be uninhabited. This is a prison. 
 Lower down, about two hundred yards away, is the residence of 
 the women, consisting of a house with one story and a balcony 
 running round it, under the guard of armed men, This house 
 starts from the riverside, forming a square, with immense stables 
 and a kind of barracks. 
 
 Above the hill, to the top of which we have climbed, upon 
 a natural platform from which the sea is visible, the khan is 
 building a brick palace. He will show it to us to-morrow, and 
 will be very pleased if we will take a " likeness " of it. 
 
 Followed by a numerous group, preceded and flanked by men 
 with a rifle on the shoulder, we reach the bath by a road carefully 
 laid with flints. Near the door a man with a white turban and 
 swarthy face, with an axe on his shoulder, rises at our approach, 
 bends low and salutes the khan — who waves his hand to him in 
 recognition — and then proceeds to chant in a loud tone the praises 
 of his master, who seems quite to appreciate this. While we are 
 going down the steps into the bath, we can still hear the loud but 
 droning tones of the herald. He is, it appears, an illustrious 
 dervish, and he comes to spend a few days with the khan every 
 winter.
 
 56 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 The bath is very clean and well arranged. We compliment 
 the architect on his good taste, and the khan is highly delighted, 
 for it is he who has designed the plans and superintended the 
 works. 
 
 We ask the khan why the country is called Talich. 
 
 TALICH MARKSMEN. 
 
 "It is," he tells us, "in memory of a son of Gengis-Khan, 
 from whom my family descends. We have been masters of the 
 Talich country for four centuries. It was formerly a very large 
 one, but the Russians have taken part of it, and only a small 
 corner is left us."
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 57 
 
 We ask him if he has resided at Teheran, and he replies in 
 the affirmative, saying, " that it was there that he learned French, 
 and served in the shah's army, and that he had the rank of 
 general, with the duty of supplying four hundred horsemen in case 
 of war." 
 
 Above our heads, at a height of perhaps seventeen hundred 
 feet, a flock of pelicans .is flying northwards. One of the 
 attendants offered the khan a rifle, knowing his master's fondness 
 for shooting. The khan then took a pair of glasses from the 
 hands of the attendant who always carried them, took a look at 
 the pelicans, and then fired. Of course, he did not touch any 
 of them. But he was determined to show his skill ; so discovering 
 a cow, which was grazing in the bush about five furlongs off, he 
 aimed carefully at her and fired two shots. After the second shot, 
 the cow made off, and the khan gave us a very self-satisfied look, 
 as much as to say the bullet could not have struck very far from 
 the mark. 
 
 " Do you often kill anything ? " we asked. 
 
 '■' Yes, very often." 
 
 The kings of Assyria used to have lions and human beings 
 brought to shoot at by way of practice, but cow- shooting is a less 
 royal quarry. 
 
 Seeing a crow on one of the roofs, the khan issues his order, 
 and five or six vagabonds go off full tilt to drive it, by throwing 
 stones at it, in our direction ; but the crow makes off A few 
 wretched sparrows are still left in the mulberry trees, and the 
 chief of the guards who takes part in the expedition shakes 
 the trees himself ; and as the sparrows fly out, the khan, who has 
 arrived himself with a shot-gun, brings one down amid a murmur 
 of applause from the assembled company. We pay him some 
 fresh compliments. The khan is wreathed in smiles, and the 
 promenade continues. We notice large rice fields, many cottages.
 
 58 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 and an abundance of all kinds of live stock. The whole of this 
 country is very rich. The gorge from which the river descends 
 is well wooded, and snow is still visible in the distance. 
 
 Merchants come in with presents ; and having thus paid for 
 their patent to sell, they will be free to dispose of their merchandise 
 to-morrow, which is market-day at the Karganrud bazaar. Serfs 
 have come from their huts, and are drawn up in line along the 
 road by which the lord is to pass ; and with great humility, and 
 their heads turned upon one side, they show him the object which 
 it is their desire to present to him. One has a handsome horse- 
 whip (gamtchi), another an elaborately embroidered carpet, a 
 third a pair of beautifully made slippers. The serf is honoured 
 by a look from his master, and his gift is taken over by a guard, 
 who appears to be told off for this purpose. 
 
 It is now time for breakfast, and we return to our lodgings, 
 where we find a well-spread table, with spoons, forks, and plates, 
 all of English make. The dishes are very varied, as are the 
 condiments and the dessert. We try dish after dish, not without 
 a certain amount of satisfaction. There are pistachio-nuts, skim 
 milk cheese, onions, pimentos, pomegranate seeds from the 
 Mazenderan, fowls, kabab (roast mutton), ragout of mutton with 
 sauce and dry rice, mutton broth with green peas, pheasants 
 roasted in oil, palao with saffron, dates, raisins, pomegranates, 
 and stewed prunes. All these dishes are served anyhow, and 
 with no fixed order, so that the disciples of Brillet-Savarin would 
 have a fit if they saw us eating all together the dishes which are 
 supposed to be spoiled by mixing. We eat on unconcernedly 
 and I must confess that, for my own part, I had a little of every- 
 thing, and found it very good. Life in the open gives one an 
 appetite, and then in travelling one soon acquires a barbarian 
 palate. 
 
 We wash down our breakfast with some white wine of Enzeli,
 
 ■"1 
 
 
 3,a^- 
 
 A SERVANT Ol- THE KHAN.
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 6i 
 
 which is nothing but brandy, with an addition of water. The 
 cousin of the khan and his brother-in-law prefer the brandy 
 because it is stronger ; and before the meal is over, the former 
 staggers to his feet and disappears, leaning for support upon two 
 of the attendants. The host smiles with satisfaction. There 
 is a good deal of laughing and joking at the table, and the khan, 
 who is a very close questioner, asks us — 
 
 " What is the moon .? What is the sun ? What is the earth ? 
 Is there nothing in the moon ? I have been told that it is 
 inhabited by men like ourselves. What do you think ? I have 
 heard it said that, but for the sun, there would be no life upon 
 the earth. I do not believe a word of this. One can do very 
 well without it. I remain ten days at a time in my room without 
 seeing it, and I am none the worse on that account. In the rainy 
 season, the sun does not show himself during the day, nor does 
 he at night. Is it true that the earth is heated by an internal 
 fire ? " 
 
 Then, suddenly, like a man who recurs to an idea which has 
 already given him a good deal of thought, he said — 
 
 " Do you know how to make gold ? Why should it not be 
 made when one knows what it is composed of .^ Water is made 
 without much difficulty." 
 
 At this moment, a courier is announced with letters. The 
 khan reads them off and hands them one by one to his chief of 
 the scribes, who receives them with the utmost respect. One 
 of these letters puts him in a terrible rage. His face becomes 
 convulsed, he tears up the letter and throws it to the ground, 
 spits upon it, and uses blasphemous language ; after which he 
 drinks a glass of brandy, and, being again master of himself, 
 continues his questions. 
 
 "Where is Bokhara? Where is Tashkend .? Where is 
 Kashgar ? Are they large cities ? Are they rich countries ?
 
 62 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 Do they furnish good soldiers ? I am told that China is a very- 
 large country, and the most powerful empire in the world. Do 
 the Chinese speak Turkish ? " 
 
 We answer the best we can both these questions and others, 
 which keep us at table more than two hours. Glass succeeds 
 glass, and the bottles are soon emptied. The khan is constantly 
 drinking to the health of one or other of us, and insists upon our 
 drinking. This we are obliged to do, but we do not take enough 
 to prevent our seeing how crassly ignorant he is. This man in 
 a tunic, murdering French and trying to pass himself off for a 
 European, reminds one of a Frank in a toga trying to stutter 
 out Latin. 
 
 When the khan gets up, I notice beneath his tunic the plated 
 butt of a revolver, which shows how much confidence he puts in 
 his entourage. 
 
 The khan rises and retires, followed by his armed retainers. 
 He goes off to his castle with its wooden tiles, where, we are told, 
 he will take his customary nap. 
 
 While the master is resting, we go for a walk, accompanied 
 by his three sons, whose acquaintance we had made in the 
 morning. The eldest is sixteen, the second thirteen, and the 
 youngest eleven. They are rather short, with good figures, and 
 very agile. Their education is very simple. A mollah teaches 
 them to read the Koran and form Arab characters, while they 
 spend the remainder of their time roaming over their father's 
 domain, riding, and playing with the children of their own age. 
 The khan had refused to send his eldest son, who resembles him, 
 it appears, in every particular, to Teheran, whither he had been 
 summoned. We can only testify to the physical resemblance 
 between the father and this youth, who is already treated with 
 much consideration by his father's attendants, and takes a great 
 interest in our weapons which he examined with the air of
 
 From Tip^lis to Reshd. " 6 
 
 J 
 
 a connoisseur. He is already a very good shot ; and whenever 
 the opportunity occurs, and one of his companions discovers 
 a magpie on a tree, or a stork in a rice field, he picks up the 
 first gun he can find and has a shot at it. After he has fired, he 
 goes into the question of whether he has shot too low or too high, 
 so that he will no doubt become a good marksman. It is thus 
 that his education is being completed ; and the obsequiousness 
 of those around him, when he gives expression to an opinion, 
 gradually accustoms him to being self-willed, and he unconsciously 
 becomes impregnated with the idea that he is born to exercise 
 mastery. 
 
 Passing in front of the residence of the serfs attached to the 
 glebe, he stops and goes in by the low doorway, and one can 
 hear the rippling laughter of women and girls. And when the 
 young master leaves, a head crowned with dark hair and two 
 large black eyes may be seen peering inquisitively out of the 
 window. 
 
 The two younger sons still amuse themselves like children. 
 With branches of willow, they cut out whistles, as French 
 children do, wetting the bark and tapping it with a round stone 
 till it peals off In this way, they make tapperiaux, or air-guns, 
 which they use like a syringe. They throw stones, join in a 
 scuffle with other lads, jump about and roll on the ground, playing 
 as becomes children of their aee. 
 
 The second, a good-looking boy, who, by his resemblance to 
 his uncle, must be like his mother, is learning to smoke with 
 a cigarette, which he has made one of his attendants give him. 
 Seated behind a thorn tree, he is puffing out clouds of smoke 
 with a very grave air. The youngest boy looks at him quite 
 enviously, and would like to imitate his example ; but he cannot 
 get any one to give him one. This little fellow is very capricious ; 
 he has fits of temper, and sometimes is very rough with the
 
 64 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 favourites who try to caress him. He has already his favourites, 
 being a prince into whose good graces far-seeing persons, with 
 an eye to the future, are anxious to enter. 
 
 All the people whom we meet bow to the ground to these 
 young princes, who do not even deign to give a nod in return. 
 It never occurs to them to do so; they feel themselves to be of 
 a different clay from the wretched beings who till the soil to 
 supply them with food. 
 
 The khan possesses the soil which the serfs cultivate, and the 
 serfs themselves, for the latter cannot leave the soil on which they 
 are born, nor the land which surrounds it. They owe a tribute 
 to the khan, which they never succeed in paying to the day, and 
 their debt puts them entirely in his power. The unmarried men 
 can take to flight, but their relatives are punished for it ; the 
 married men are kept to the soil by their families and by their 
 feeling of resignation, while habit deprives them of all initiative, 
 and suffering comes quite naturally to them. Any attempt at 
 escape is severely punished ; armed men watch at the cross-roads 
 to arrest the fugitives and take them back to their master, who 
 has them beaten, cast into prison, and fined. Having no money 
 to pay the fine, they are condemned to forced labour, so that, after 
 trying to improve their position, they make it worse, for they get 
 extra labour, which they dread more than anything else. 
 
 Badly fed, weakly, having drank in at their mother's breast, so 
 to speak, the taste for servitude, they have no courage ; and, with 
 no future or hope before them, are very lazy. They feel that they 
 are powerless, and they are content to prolong their existence, 
 and to die as late as possible upon the soil towards which they are 
 bent all the day long. What is the use of their flying from this 
 gehenna ? Ten leagues away the land is an unknown one, and 
 few people care to leave themselves in the hands of chance. 
 They cannot muster up courage to throw off the yoke which they
 
 From Tipxis to Reshd. 65 
 
 find so heavy, and their purely animal feelings are satisfied as long 
 as the yoke does not chafe their backs too much. And they only 
 hope that they may have handsome children, who will attract the 
 notice of the khan, and whom he will attach to his person. There 
 is nothing better than to be the father of -a pretty daughter, 
 because she will be honoured with the favour of the master, and 
 then married to one of his favourites, to the great advantage of all 
 her family. 
 
 The young khans come to wish us good-bye, as they are 
 returning to their house, together with their tutors and attendants. 
 A man remains behind to show me the way, and I go down 
 towards the river. Sunset is drawing near, and the croaking 
 crows began to gather together, and the miasma of fever rises out 
 of the rice fields. Not far from a brick kiln, with the shape of a 
 paper bag, I remark a hovel which is inhabited, a thin column of 
 smoke issuing from above. The walls are of crumbling mud, 
 and over them is a roof made of branches of trees about seventeen 
 feet high, with a few wooden tiles kept in their place by stones. 
 Two openings have been made in the fa9ade, which is about 
 seventeen feet long, one for letting out the smoke, the other for 
 the inhabitants ; this second one facing south, from which direction 
 very little rain ever comes. I stoop down and manage to enter 
 the hut. The room is about ten feet by seven. A frayed piece 
 of matting is laid over the earthen floor ; but beyond a tray and 
 an earthenware jar there is no furniture, not even a bed or a 
 blanket. Close beside a fire made of straw and sticks, which fills 
 the room with smoke, an object begins to move and then to cry. 
 This turns out to be a little girl, five or six years old, half naked 
 and very dirty. The mother comes in, all in rags, still young, 
 with handsome black eyes, which are full of sadness. She carries 
 on her back her youngest born, a girl two years of age, shaking all 
 over with milk fever. She clings closely to her mother's neck, as 
 
 F
 
 66 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 if to a forlorn hope. She lets her head droop on her mother's 
 shoulder, and does not even open her eyes. She is as thin as a 
 skeleton, with delicate features, and looks at death's door. 
 
 The mother says, " The child has been ill for three months, 
 and we have given up all hope of curing her." 
 
 " Do you do anything for her ? " 
 
 " When the sun is shining, I take her out to get her warm. 
 Can you suggest a remedy ? " 
 
 A serf's wife. 
 
 " She ought to be well clad. She has only a linen chemise on." 
 
 " I have nothing else to clothe her with. I fold her in my 
 arms." 
 
 " What ! have you not been able to obtain a bit of blanket 
 for her ? " 
 
 " We have no money. Who is going to give us anything ? 
 Fire is of no avail against the fever chill. Good gentleman, give 
 us some remedy."
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 67 
 
 The husband comes back from the rice field, with his spade 
 over his shoulder, his naked legs crusted with mud. He is tall, 
 sunburnt, lean, and deeply pitted with the small-pox. He con- 
 firms what his wife has said ; and she, too, has a good deal of 
 fever about her, while he suffers from rheumatics. I make him a 
 present, and tell him to come in the morning for some medicine. 
 He thanks me with a low bow and enters into his den. The 
 woman stands staring open-mouthed at us, looking the very picture 
 of misery. The crows have ceased cawing, and night is falling fast. 
 
 Amman has got unused to all this misery since he has been in 
 contact with the Russians. He confides his impressions to me, 
 and, pointing to some cows, observes — 
 
 " They are better off than these people ; they go and feed 
 where they please. When grass fails in one place, they go to 
 another. These people cannot. Truly, it is better to be stock 
 than men in this country." 
 
 He grumbles at the khan, but in Russian, of course. " In his 
 country, no one dares to be rich. He lays hands upon everything. 
 This is why he never lies down to rest in peace. He will have 
 the same end as his father." 
 
 It appears that in the family of the khan most of the members 
 die a violent death ; and he was near being murdered when a lad. 
 Amman tells the story as follows : — 
 
 " His father was a very proud and ruthless man, hard to every 
 one, with no regard for those about him, and sticking at nothing 
 to gratify his whims. Upon the other side of the mountain, not 
 far from Ardebil, live the Chaksevem Tartars. The khan of this 
 tribe gave a grand festival on the circumcision of his eldest son, 
 and invited his neighbour at Karganrud. The rejoicings lasted 
 several days. The invited guest offended his host by his haughty 
 demeanour. He maltreated his servants ; and, when the worse 
 for drink, made fun of one of his neighbours at table.
 
 68 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 "He then started off without even condescending to address 
 the customary expression of thanks to his host. While passing 
 through the Chaksevem territory, he behaved as if he was in a 
 conquered country. Those whom he had insulted are of Turkish 
 race, very courageous, and ready to wipe out an offence in blood. 
 Hospitality being the most sacred of all duties, they swallowed 
 the insult and contained their anger as long as the khan's guest 
 was on their soil. But they at once met and resolved to exact a 
 terrible revenge for the uncalled-for insult. They kept their 
 intention secret until the time came for ' tasting blood.' The 
 opportunity soon came. For a whole night fifty men, mounted 
 upon excellent horses, rode onward ; and during the day they 
 concealed themselves in a wood near Karganrud. At a time 
 when men are usually in their first sleep, and least likely to awake, 
 they surrounded the dwelling of the khan, slew his servitors, and, 
 having surprised him in bed, hacked him to pieces. In their fury, 
 they determined to annihilate his race ; and they searched every- 
 where for his two sons, whom they failed to find, as well as his 
 wife, who was away from home. A female servant had carried off 
 the two boys under cover of the darkness, and had taken refuge 
 in the house of a serf, hidinor them in a larp-e chest. 
 
 " The widow of the khan had her two children fetched, and 
 went with them to Teheran, where they were brought up with 
 other young nobles. Some time after, these young men entered 
 into possession of their domain. 
 
 " The present khan, now that he is master, continues the 
 traditions of his ancestors. He is despotic, proud, and vindictive ; 
 and he is full of suspicion, for he has never forgotten the murder 
 of his father. He surrounds himself with ruffians of every nation- 
 ality, whom he retains in his service ; and he has thus a small 
 force of determined men upon whom he can count for any enter- 
 prise, there being scarcely a crime which they have not committed.
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 
 
 69 
 
 " The shah insists upon being master in his kingdom, and he 
 is resolved to crush the least symptoms of independence among 
 the khans who inhabit distant provinces. So when he returned 
 from his last journey to Europe, and was beset at Reshd by 
 petitioners from the Talich, beseeching for justice, he was very 
 incensed. His first impulse was to give orders to have the khan 
 grot rid of. But the latter is said to have orained the ear of the 
 
 y 
 
 \ r 
 
 
 
 
 
 1.4:' ' ' ^■" 
 
 THE KHAN AND HIS SUITE. 
 
 prime minister, by means of liberal presents, and the shah deferred 
 his revenge." 
 
 This was the story which, as Amman told us, was generally 
 believed in the country ; and he added that he should not be 
 sorry when we were out of it. 
 
 After hearing this story, we laid down to sleep in the beds 
 which were similar to those which are to be found all through
 
 70 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 Asia, simply because there are none more primitive. They do 
 not differ in the sHghtest degree from the pallets of the Roman 
 and of the Greek world. A rectangle upon four feet is consoli- 
 dated by ropes, which form a net, and a by no means springy 
 mattress, but one very much ventilated, upon which you spread 
 your blankets. If my memory does not deceive me. Homer's 
 heroes slept upon beds made out of the skins of oxen, which were 
 not so hard to the back. 
 
 Upon our waking, we were told that the khan was going to 
 pay us a visit. It had been arranged the day before that he 
 should be photographed, as well as the castle he was building ; 
 and he arrived wearing the full uniform of an Austrian general, 
 minus the epaulettes. 
 
 He had put on the kula, or Persian head-dress. He had a 
 dark blue tunic, light blue trousers, a sword, and the so-called 
 Neapolitan shoes, which, I believe, are made at Marseilles. 
 
 We follow the khan, who comes to a halt in front of his palace, 
 where we photograph him in all his splendour. After that, we are 
 shown over the building, which has nothing remarkable about it 
 except its thick walls, numerous rooms, its baths, and an immense 
 reception room, from which the Caspian may be seen across the 
 shrubberies and rice fields. The khan seems to be particularly 
 proud of a white stone encrusted in the bricks at the level of the 
 first story, in the corner of the wall. He pointed it out to us, and 
 was anxious to know whether it would come out in the photo- 
 graph. When he answered in the affirmative, his face beamed 
 with smiles ; and we wondered whether he had had all these 
 bricks put up so as to set this stone in them, as one orders a ring 
 so as to set off a fine diamond. 
 
 Upon our return to breakfast, the khan begins to talk to us 
 about music, and points to a man squatting near the door. Upon 
 a sign, this man enters the room and kneels down by the fireplace
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 
 
 71 
 
 at the corner where the brush and the wood basket are kept in 
 European houses. He is an artist of some mark, nevertheless ; 
 and this way of receiving him shows that our host has not the same 
 consideration for tenors which they enjoy in France and England. 
 A tray is cleared of its nuts and almonds, and is handed to the 
 singer, who is very tall and thin, with a very modest demeanour. 
 
 ^J^. 
 
 THE KHAN S MINSTREL. 
 
 This would surprise any one who had never been in the East, for, 
 it may be asked, " what is the use of this tray ? " As a matter of 
 fact it is indispensable, for it will serve both as a piano and as a 
 screen to conceal the contortions of his mouth, as well as a sort of 
 speaking trumpet. 
 
 Thereupon, the singer begins to beat the tray with his fingers, 
 keeping it poised upon the palm of his hand, resting it on the
 
 72 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 thumb when he is using his fingers. He raises and lowers the 
 tray, balances himself on his haunches, and finally pours from the 
 throat formidable, piercing notes, which are quite dangerous for 
 delicate ears. The khan asks us what we think of him, and we 
 reply that he has a superb voice. He then asks us if it is the 
 custom to sing very loud in France ; and when we say " Yes,'' the 
 khan urges the artist to raise his voice, which he does with a 
 vengeance. 
 
 " Can they get as high as that in France ? " the khan asks us. 
 
 We express our doubts, and our compliments produce the 
 expected effect ; for during the whole time of the meal the poor 
 wretch wriggles about with his tray, and when he does not sing as 
 his master likes, the latter speaks very sharply to him, and even 
 calls him " dog," ordering him to change his tune and sing over 
 and over again. He rolls them out as from a musical box. Then 
 the khan forgets all about him, just as one might forget to stop an 
 engine, and the singing goes on for two mortal hours. The tenor 
 does not dare to stop, despite the sweat which is trickling down 
 his forehead, despite the hoarseness of his voice, due to the 
 complete drying up of the vocal cords. At last the khan makes 
 a sign for the concert to cease, and the poor famished minstrel 
 withdraws with many profound reverences. 
 
 I doubt whether any one of my friends has been " executed " 
 as carefully, even by pianists. 
 
 One of us happens to take out a leather tobacco-pouch, made 
 to imitate crocodile skin, and this leads to a scientific and naturalist 
 discussion between the khan, his brother-in-law, and his first 
 cousin, who is not yet thoroughly drunk. 
 
 One of them asserts that he has seen the animal in the sea, 
 the other has seen him in a river. They enumerate the most 
 peculiar animals they have seen or heard of, and come to the 
 conclusion that it must be the hippopotamus or the seal.
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. 75 
 
 Amman, who acts as interpreter, insinuates that this leather 
 must belong to the same country as the khan's negro. The 
 discussion having been closed, we rise from the table, and the 
 khan settles into a seat in front of our lodging, and the scribes 
 take their places on a carpet in front of him, while he transacts 
 some current business. 
 
 Amman, who is anxious for information, returns to the charge ; 
 and we draw for him the shape of a crocodile, which he defines as 
 " a large lizard, with big teeth, living in rivers in the land of the 
 negro." 
 
 We ask him what is the use of this negro, and he tells us that 
 it is considered the right thing for a great man to have one to 
 amuse him. He gets cuffed and kicked, and has to make grimaces 
 which afford his master much amusement. But our host does not 
 appreciate jokes, so the black man is of no importance in his eyes. 
 He might have become a favourite, but as it is he only affords 
 sport to the servants, who make a butt of him. His face does not 
 denote much intelligence. 
 
 According to Amman, these black men are caught like birds in 
 a snare. Once they are caught, they give up to despair, wish to 
 die, and refuse food. As they are known to be gluttonous, they 
 are offered jam as a temptation, and it is one which they can 
 rarely resist. After this they are given the same food as their 
 companions. Some of them fetch a very high price. 
 
 While the khan is signing papers, he is also listening to 
 complaints, dealing out justice in the open air, like St. Louis 
 under his oak. Several persons throw themselves at his feet to 
 thank him, and kiss his knees. He does not like this exuberant 
 politeness, and his guards seize hold of them and eject them 
 brutally among the crowd of inquisitive spectators. But the 
 business is soon transacted, the crowd disperses, and the khan 
 returns home, preceded and followed by his men-at-arms.
 
 76 
 
 Through the FIeart of Asia. 
 
 It is our turn to be beset by such persons of every kind. The 
 rumour has got abroad that one of us possesses the art of heaHng 
 and of administering drugs ; and this rumour refers to Capus, who 
 has some notions of medicine. He has quite a crowd at his door. 
 Cases of rickets are not rare ; there are frequent traces of syphiHs, 
 while the number of victims to fever are innumerable, so that 
 our medicine-chest would soon be exhausted. We only administer 
 medicine, therefore, to those who are absolutely in want of it. 
 We must confess that the success of the European doctor is not 
 due to the high idea which the natives have of a wise man of the 
 West. If he "took" so well from the first, it was because he 
 
 
 OUR ATTENDANT, AMMAN. 
 
 did not sell his remedies. Thus the regular doctor of the khan, 
 who resides close to us, is, we are told, very vexed to find himself 
 so neglected, and he has a smile of contempt for the credulous 
 people who allow themselves to be imposed upon by charlatans 
 who happen to be passing that way. 
 
 Capus would not be sorry to be rid of these very troublesome 
 customers, and he advises them to consult his neighbour. But 
 no one listens to his advice ; and when we repeat it, one of them 
 says —
 
 From Tiflis to Reshd. "j^ 
 
 " What is the use of our Qroinor to the khan's doctor ? We are 
 poor, and he sells everything at an exorbitant price ; his drugs 
 rarely effect a cure. It is no use asking for his aid, if you do 
 not bring the money with you ; he will not even trouble himself 
 to give you advice. He allows the poor to die off like flies ; he 
 is only a doctor for those who can pay. 
 
 The doctor might perhaps allege as an excuse that the 
 gratitude which would be due to him, in default of a fee, is 
 even a scarcer commodity at Karganrud than in Paris. A St. 
 Vincent de Paul is an exception in all countries. We all like to 
 be repaid for the trouble we take on behalf of others.
 
 BY THE water's EDGE AT NIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FROM RESHD TO TEHERAN. 
 
 The wine — No bread — The reason why — Nearing the Guilek country — Reshd — 
 A governor taking his departure — Prefectoral movement in Persia — The 
 departure of the great lady — Refuge — Merovingian period — No more rain and 
 no more forest — Central Asia begins — The plain of Iran. 
 
 April 2 1 . 
 The khan has procured us some saddle and pack horses to reach 
 Enzeh ; and he has kept us two days with him. We are not 
 sorry to continue our journey ; we have had enough of his 
 excessive poHteness, and it may be presumed that he is not sorry 
 to see us start. 
 
 We are in his way, as our presence imposes a certain restraint 
 upon him. In spite of the offer which he makes for us to prolong 
 our visit, we say good-bye to the khan on the ist of April, and 
 start for Chifa-Rud. 
 
 The route is a pleasant one in the sunshine, following the 
 course of the river as far as the Caspian, sometimes in the pebbly
 
 From Reshd to Teheran. 79 
 
 bed of the stream and sometimes climbing up to the banks. 
 Then we thread our way through woods, with the sun's rays 
 filterinof athwart the foHage and falling in a golden shower as 
 through the stained glass of some cathedral window. We notice, 
 as we ride along, some very fine bushes of box-wood. 
 
 At the village of Karganrud, we alter our course and bend 
 southwards, towards Alalan, the mud and sand alternating. 
 There is still a good deal of forest ; and at a long distance from 
 any dwelling places, the gleditschias, bristling with prickles, are 
 trimmed like the poplars on a French roadside. As they grow, 
 the branches are cut off for firewood, and the trunks stand short 
 and stunted, twisted by the high winds from the sea. We meet 
 a Talichi carrying something under his arm like an umbrella, 
 which proves to be merely a wooden ploughshare. Amid the 
 prickly bushes we can see a number of reed huts, and they remind 
 one of the villages of the African bushmen. These hovels are 
 inhabited by woodmen employed in the forest, who manufacture 
 charcoal and various wooden utensils. We catch a sight of some 
 of them who have been attracted by the barking of their dogs. 
 They are very dark-complexioned, and with their hatchets in 
 their hands and their legs enveloped in animals' skins to protect 
 them from the thorns, they look like savages. 
 
 Alalan is a village of very little importance, with a bazaar, 
 where we make a vain effort to get some wine. No one will sell 
 us any ; and though one of the khan's men tells us that they all 
 drink it in secret, they declare that they have not got any. 
 
 " Why," we ask, " do they deny having any ? " 
 
 " Because they are ashamed to let a stranger see that they 
 are bad Mussulmans, and also because you are accompanied by 
 the khan's men, being afraid that we should tell our master of it, 
 and that he would force them to supply him when necessary." 
 
 " You mean that he would not pay for what he took ? "
 
 8o Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 The horseman answered with a smile. 
 
 Upon leaving Alalan, after a brief halt on the sea-shore, the 
 khan's men retrace their steps, only one remaining with us as 
 a guide. 
 
 We are still in the forest at nightfall ; and though it is pitch- 
 dark, there is no rain, and the ride is a charming one. 
 
 When darkness sets in, the only sounds audible are the con- 
 stant roar of the sea, the hoofs of the horses, the sound of the 
 whip upon their quarters, and the cry of the men to attention. 
 The path is narrow, and it is necessary to be very careful not 
 to get the boughs of the trees flying back in one's face. 
 
 The leader gives a word of warning, and this is passed all 
 along the line. It is the same when crossing a ferry ; the 
 words "right" and "left" being called out, as the occasion may 
 require. 
 
 But the beasts of prey are not long in issuing from the 
 retreats in which they have slept away the day, like the male- 
 factors of a large city, and the forest soon becomes animated. 
 They prowl about in quest of something to devour, and the 
 jackals cry, inviting one another to a feast, while the birds of 
 prey utter their lugubrious notes, some as if calling piteously for 
 help, others as if issuing a sharp word of command. 
 
 There is a whole world of animated life, struggling, shrieking, 
 and pinched by hunger — a true type of the beings that nature, 
 who puts them upon the stage, has divided into strong and weak. 
 And suddenly, like the Greek chorus of ancient tragedy, the 
 toads and frogs in the marshes begin to croak, reminding one 
 of the chatter of listless and indifferent crowds. One would 
 almost fancy that there must be relays of these frogs to keep up 
 the chatter. 
 
 For the last few minutes we have been wading in the mud, 
 and can feel the damp and fever coming up. The horses begin
 
 From Reshd to Teheran. 8i 
 
 to slip about, and before us extends a vast sheet of dark water, 
 with not a star reflected in it. 
 
 " Chifa-Rud," observes the guide. 
 
 " Upon the other side ? " 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 Thereupon he hails the people on the other side, as one of 
 them is wanted to point out the ferry. The sky is clouded over, 
 and the night inky black. After several calls, a voice answers, 
 " Who goes there ? " 
 
 " The guests of the khan." 
 
 " Welcome, to you." 
 
 And we hear the sound of a body plunging into the water, 
 then the peculiar chafing sound of a horsemen moving through 
 the water, and finally one cannot make out the motion of the 
 legs, so that the water is evidently deep. At last the ferryman 
 arrives. 
 
 " Salamaleikon ! " 
 
 " Valeikomassalam ! " 
 
 And we follow the phantom who shows us the way without 
 saying a word. He spoke just now, so he cannot be a shadow, 
 and we are not crossing the Styx. 
 
 W^e make the other side without mishap, and then cross the 
 fields, feeling our way as best we can, so as to avoid the prickly 
 hedges. We hear the barking of dogs ; a gate is opened, and 
 some one comes towards us with an immense lantern, covered 
 with squares of paper, and bids us get off our horses. 
 
 By the light of this gigantic lantern, which has very litde 
 candle inside, like the large bodies which contain very petty 
 souls, we settle ourselves down for the night. The room offered 
 us is not very large ; a carpet from Meshed, or elsewhere, is spread 
 upon the floor, the door closes fairly well, and there is no fear of 
 catching cold. We get off our muddy boots, and drink some
 
 82 Through the Heart of Asl\. 
 
 excellent milk while listening to the first raindrops of the storm, 
 with the satisfaction of people who are under cover. 
 
 We swallow a few bits of roast salmon and some cold rice, 
 with a cup of excellent tea on the top of them. They are very 
 comfortable, these primitive houses built of mud, covered with 
 thatch, and having a wooden gallery running all round the inner 
 courtyard. We have scarcely made these reflections, when Pepin 
 jumps up and points with his finger to a black spot on the wall — 
 two black spots — several black spots. He puts his finger close to 
 one, and the spot moves. Why, it is an insect — a bug, hundreds 
 of bugs, which are devouring us with their eyes from the wall and 
 the ceiling, preparatory to devouring us in another way. 
 
 Pepin does not like the bugs ; the bugs do not like Capus ; 
 and for my own part I am not very fond of them. Capus remains 
 in the room, and the two others spread their blankets out on the 
 balcony, covering themselves over w^ith an oil-cloth, and lying 
 down at a safe distance from the enemy. The upshot is that 
 I sleep comfortably, despite the rain which is splashing at my 
 feet ; while Pepin, lying close beside me, is tormented the whole 
 night by these wretched bugs, which have followed him, but leave 
 me in peace. It is odd how, in this world, misfortune pursues 
 certain people, while it spares others for no better reason than 
 these bugs could have given. 
 
 Upon awaking we find that Chifa-Rud is upon the sea-shore, 
 forming a very pretty landscape with the wooded mountains 
 capped with snow. We take some photographs, to the great 
 delight of the inhabitants, who are much amused at the box 
 resting on three legs, and the artists hiding their heads under 
 a piece of black cloth. They call for their neighbours to come 
 and look, laughing and staring after the manner of people who 
 don't understand what is going on. 
 
 At Chifa-Rud, the Talichi, which is a peculiar Turkish
 
 From Reshd to Teheran. 
 
 83 
 
 dialect, is still spoken ; but Guilek is also spoken by some of the 
 people. The population is a mixed one ; and side by side with 
 the tall and elegant figure of the Talichi may be seen the heavier 
 and bigger-boned type of the better-fed Guilek. The soil is fertile 
 and well cultivated, and there are abundant rivers ; but the use of 
 bread is unknown. When we ask for some to eat with the 
 excellent salmon-peel, of which we never seem to get tired, they 
 bring us a sort of rice-cake baked the day before. 
 
 .,.>■ 
 
 /^r 
 
 
 STARTING FROM CHIFA-RUD. 
 
 " Why do you not eat bread ? " 
 
 " We prefer rice." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Because we should want four times as much bread as rice to 
 ' fill our stomachs ; ' because we have good land for growing rice, 
 plenty of water and inundations, which are not favourable for 
 wheat. Moreover, the streams and the sea supply us with an 
 abundance of fish, and we can insure a good supply of food with 
 very little trouble." 
 
 " Don't you enjoy eating bread occasionally ? "
 
 84 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 " No, we don't care for it. Another reason why we prefer 
 rice is that it takes such a time to make bread. First of all the 
 land must be sown, then there is the harvest, the threshing of the 
 wheat, the kneading of the flour, and the baking ; whereas rice, 
 once it has been gathered, has only to be decorticated, and cooked 
 in the pan, with water or fat, with or without saffron. It is eaten 
 hot, and the rest is allowed to cool and is eaten hard the next day. 
 If it is grilled before the fire in lumps, it forms a nice golden crust. 
 You see that it is better to eat rice." 
 
 " Yes, indeed." 
 
 It would, I think, be difficult to make these people see that 
 they are mistaken in doing without bread. 
 
 Passing through clumps of wild pomegranate trees and rice 
 fields, we arrive at Tcharpatchal, a large village in the midst of 
 marshes, not far from the mtirdab (stagnant water). 
 
 It might be taken for an African village, with its dazzling 
 sunshine, its huts and summer-houses built on pillars, its threshing- 
 floors and barns, to which access is gained by trunks of trees with 
 steps hewn in them. There is an exuberance of life and light 
 about the place. 
 
 We make a brief halt here, and it is the last place where 
 Talichi is spoken. Henceforth, we hear only Guilek, though 
 many of the people understand Persian. 
 
 From Tcharpatchal we proceed to Enzeli, a town of little 
 interest, and with a port of no importance, situated upon the road 
 to Reshd and Kazvin. 
 
 The influence of the Russian agent appeared to be very great ; 
 and he was at once obeyed by the servitors of the governor, who 
 was absent. Yet this agent was a Persian, though, as he kept 
 repeating at every opportunity, "a Russian subject, monsieur." 
 This is a title much sought after here, just as that of ally was in 
 the days when Rome was constantly pushing further back the
 
 From Reshd to Teheran. 
 
 85 
 
 limits of her frontier, extending her protection to the peoples, and 
 making their kings obey her. 
 
 The next day (April 4th), in pouring rain, a covered bark 
 conveyed us in a very short time to Peri-Bazar. From there to 
 Reshd the road is, it appears, a very good one in fair weather ; 
 but when we travelled over it, our horses were up to their chests 
 in water and could hardly extricate their feet from the mud. 
 
 We pay a visit to the governor, who is busy signing a quantity 
 
 ^. i ■^7/7 '- 
 
 FROM PERI-BAZAR TO RESHD BY A FLOODED ROAD. 
 
 of papers. He is very affable, and offers us a lodging in his 
 house, in some buildings at the further end of his residence. He 
 is just about to leave, for he tells us that he is at variance with 
 the court, and prefers abandoning his post to submitting to the 
 exactions of the minister of finance. He was very kind to us. 
 
 His palace, forming one side of a square, is a pile of buildings 
 with galleries running round several rectangular courtyards. 
 Standing a little way off the fagade, the tumbledown condition of 
 the buildings is very apparent. We are shown to a room looking
 
 86 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 on to a garden planted with willows, with a fountain of dirty- 
 water, from which the host of servants came to fetch water for the 
 kitchen, and perform their ablutions, much to the disgust of our 
 body-servant, who calls them 
 
 The rooms next to ours have floors upon which one dare not 
 venture unless one is good acrobat. The beams in many places 
 have no boards over them, and one can see the heads of the 
 people on the floor below. There is no end to the number of 
 holes, and they serve for very various purposes. 
 
 A venerable Persian, with a beard as black as jet — thanks to 
 the liberal use of dye — is told off to look after us, and we confide 
 to him our astonishment at seeing the house in such a deplorable 
 state. 
 
 He tells us that the shah allows a certain sum each year for 
 keeping the palace of the governor in repair ; but governors are 
 constantly changing. They look upon the palace as an hotel in 
 which they will spend a short time, and do not care to see after its 
 being repaired. The credit is spent in other w^ays. 
 
 This worthy old gentleman, who carefully conceals his age, 
 drinks, in the space of about two hours, twenty glasses of native 
 brandy, and smokes about thirty cigarettes. He is accompanied 
 by a young officer, and by two boys of from twelve to thirteen, 
 who imitate him to the best of their ability, and are soon quite 
 tipsy. There can be no doubt about it, drunkenness is one of the 
 curses of the country. 
 
 The young officer tells us that he has studied, and the way in 
 which he handles one of our maps, representing the west coast of 
 the Caspian Sea, shows that this is the case. He takes his 
 bearings carefully, and explains to the old man, who listens to him 
 while smoking placidly, where Khorassan, Bagdad, India, Teheran, 
 France, and Constantinople are. He thought that he had got 
 hold of a map of the world, which he rearranged in the coolest
 
 From Reshd to Teheran. 
 
 87 
 
 fashion. Constantinople was on the top of a mountain, Teheran 
 became a seaport, and the Khorassan took the place of Batum. 
 The young- officer was a major, and his listener was, or had been, 
 a general. 
 
 The major had studied our language, and could speak it a 
 
 ft,-; -^^^ —,- - -v^J- ,r ^ :p7~i-=A-"JJ^ IW^ ^ 
 
 ^'. 
 
 
 
 A PERSIAN GENERAL. 
 
 little. Perhaps the four melancholy lines which follow, and which 
 I read on the wall of the room, were his— 
 
 " Moi, pouvre Abdullah lean que je sujs, 
 Tombe ici malourejement, 
 Suis eleve du governement. 
 Sortons de cette pays." 
 
 At Reshd, we had to hire horses to pursue our journey ; for 
 the post had run short of them, and we had baggage which could 
 only be carried slowly. By the intermediary of the Russian agent, 
 the consul being absent with all his family, we got into negotia-
 
 88 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 tions with a muleteer. Bargains are not concluded rapidly in this 
 country, and the vali had started before we were ready. It was 
 advisable to let him get on some way in advance, for he had such 
 a numerous suite that the road was very crowded, and we should 
 have had much difficulty in finding room at the posting-stations, 
 or o-ettinp- a horse in case of accident. 
 
 This delay gave us the opportunity of witnessing some curious 
 scenes very typical of the country. 
 
 The vali started on the 5th of April. He had been very 
 popular in the country, and there was an immense crowd in front 
 of the palace, thousands of horsemen having assembled to escort 
 him. The piteous wails of the common people were to be heard 
 in all directions, for the vali had never refused alms to a poor 
 man. The lamentations were general. 
 
 The master having departed, the scene suddenly changed. 
 The women who had remained behind, and were only to start on 
 the following day, could scarcely get served. All was disorder in 
 the palace, for the attendants, who do not follow the fortunes of 
 the vali, are quite indifferent as to what happens, and the con- 
 fusion is indescribable. 
 
 The following morning, the outside of the palace resounds 
 with cries of a different kind from those of the previous day. 
 There are no longer any sentinels, or men armed with long staves, 
 who keep any one from coming near. The tradesmen have all 
 flocked into the square, and are confiding their troubles to one 
 another. " That so and so owed him so much." " So he does me." 
 " Do you think he'll pay ? " "I am afraid that we shan't get a six- 
 pence." " I intend to go and ask for what he owes me." And 
 so, mustering courage, they make their way into the first court- 
 yard, where the discussion begins again, and we can hear shouting 
 and strong language. But, to judge by what we can see for our- 
 selves, no one can be got to pay anything.
 
 From Resiid to Teheran. 89 
 
 The garden upon which our room overlooks is invaded by a 
 crowd of people in a great state of mind. Groups are formed, 
 and we can see people whispering to one another very mysteriously, 
 while others are gesticulating. Some of the invaders are left by 
 themselves and keep apart, while others, who are known to be 
 influential, and to have friends at court, have quite a crowd around 
 them. 
 
 Two or three more particularly, who have just arrived from 
 Teheran, and who are easy of recognition, with their frock coats 
 of a European cut and their patent leather shoes, are greeted 
 very respectfully. They look very dignified and consequential. 
 Every one is anxious to have the honour of offering them a 
 cigarette and a o-lass of tea. A few merchants have elbowed their 
 way so far, the commoner people remaining outside. They are 
 treated with much consideration, and they carry a writing-book 
 at their belt, from which they take out small bits of paper, which 
 they present more or less respectfully, according to the opinion 
 which they have of their debtor. One of these merchants accosts 
 an important personage, and humbly presents him with the bill 
 which he has been hiding in his sleeve. The latter does not dis- 
 cuss the details of the bill, but makes all sorts of promises to his 
 creditor, who crosses his hands over his stomach with a profound 
 obeisance and lowers his head in confusion, when the important 
 official lays his hand in a friendly fashion upon his shoulder, 
 before dismissing him. Mollahs, in white turbans, are sitting 
 down, listlessly regarding all these petty discussions. They do 
 not miss a single glass of tea or cigarette, which are handed round, 
 not by a handsome boy, but by some dirty youth, with one foot 
 bare and the other thrust into a worn-out shoe, which lets in the 
 daylight at several places. 
 
 A great quantity of tea is consumed, and cigarettes are smoked 
 by the hundred, while men are coming to the fountain to fetch
 
 90 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 water for their coffee-pots, or to clean the mouthpieces of their 
 pipes. Others come to wash their hands or their feet, and Amman 
 may well be furious and compare them to the most unclean of 
 animals. 
 
 All of a sudden, the crowd clears out of the garden and makes 
 for a square adjoining the harem. There is a chorus of cries and 
 groans, and we imagine that some great public misfortune must 
 have occurred. We ask what it is, and are told that it is the 
 vali's wife, who is leaving and saying good-bye to the population. 
 Upon the square there is a crowd of poor people in rags, women 
 and children predominating, who stoop down, pick themselves up 
 again, and rush towards a travelling chaise drawn by two splendid 
 horses, which men with long staves have great difficulty in 
 protecting from the wave of the populace. Armed horsemen 
 endeavour to make some impression upon the mass, and to clear 
 the way for the palanquins placed upon the backs of gigantic 
 mules. These palanquins are filled with the female followers of 
 the great lady, who thrusts her hands through the curtains of the 
 carriage to distribute small coin to the people. 
 
 This furnishes us with the explanation of the din, which dies 
 away for a moment, only to break out again with renewed force 
 when a fresh shower of coins comes from the carriage. There is 
 a desperate struggle for the money, and all decorum is forgotten. 
 The women unveil and tear each other's clothes ; grown-up men 
 struggle with mere children, and even the greybeards join in the 
 fray. A thousand throats give hoarse utterance to their gratitude. 
 
 But as there is a limit to the greatest generosity, and as the 
 rain begins to fall, the convoy moves on and threads its way 
 through the tortuous streets. The palanquins swing to and fro, 
 and have great difficulty in forcing their way through the crowd, 
 as the noble lady starts on her journey, with her armed escort. 
 The din and the cries of discontent begin again, the common
 
 From Reshd to Teheran. 
 
 91 
 
 people soon forgetting her largesses. The touching wails of those 
 who wished her good-bye are succeeded by the shrieks and dis- 
 putes of those who are struggling for the coins which have not 
 been picked up, reminding one of how gulls fight for the morsels 
 of food thrown out in the track of a vessel. 
 
 Although we are in a great hurry to reach Teheran, I cannot 
 leave Reshd without saying a word about its " best," which is 
 close beside the vali's palace, like a remedy close beside a disease. 
 
 ■/^% i 
 
 
 
 '^.^■ 
 
 DEPARTURE OF THE VALl's WIFE. 
 
 The name of " best " is given to a place of refuge where a man is 
 sacred from the pursuit of a powerful enemy, just as many places 
 in Western Europe were during the Middle Ages. The "best" 
 at Reshd is a mosque of very little outward show, with a balcony 
 overlooking a terrace. No one has the right to drag from it any 
 man who has taken refuge there, and this custom, which we re- 
 gard as outlandish, now that we have just laws, is of great benefit 
 in a country where justice is very loosely administered, and where 
 punishments are often very unfairly inflicted.
 
 92 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 We then start for Kudum, the next station, in the driving rain 
 and mud. But for the ruts, we should never get there, the mud in 
 them being liquid, and so enabling our horses to lift their feet out 
 of it. All the way we see rice fields, poplar-trees, with, here and 
 there, an elm-tree, the branches of which are very few, as they 
 are lopped every year. The tops of these trees are very dis- 
 orderly, but they are like the heads of those who do not like to 
 appear bald and conceal their denuded pates by a careful arrange- 
 ment of their few remaining locks. Then we get into the wood, 
 and it is night-time when we reach the station, which is a miserable 
 place, and overrun by a host of travellers of every description. 
 With scarcely enough fire to dry our clothes, a concert of frogs 
 to send us to sleep, and with the wind howling through the ill- 
 closed doors and windows, and whistling round our heads, we are 
 not likely to forget Kudum. 
 
 Upon the 7th of April we start, with the sun shining, for 
 Rustemabad, slowly climbing through the forest of beeches, 
 willows, box-trees, and maples, till we see the Kizil-Uzen, very 
 broad and swift, flowing below. We are unmistakably on the 
 mountain, for the road comes to an end, and there is nothing but 
 a steep, stony path, along which our sorry steeds trace their steps 
 with wonderful care. My horse, however, indulges in a fall upon 
 the edge of the river, which is flowing three hundred feet beneath. 
 He falls upon me, but, as he has a horror of the void and is careful 
 not to budge, we escape without any accident. The path winds, 
 following the course of the river ; but, to my great surprise, I 
 come upon a squad of fifty workmen making a road. There are 
 about sixty yards done, and, to judge by the rate at which they 
 are progressing, it will take several centuries to complete it as far 
 as Reshd. 
 
 Rustemabad is a picturesque station, with the forest in the 
 distance, the country well cultivated, and plenty of rice-fields.
 
 From Reshd to Teheran. 
 
 93 
 
 while to the south begins the land of desolation. Here the 
 Caucasus forests end, and at the same time we get quit of the 
 rain. We leave our muleteer's horses, which are pretty well done 
 up, and we engage others at the posting-house. 
 
 In the morning of the 8th of April we reach Rudbar, in the 
 centre of an olive grove ; the mountains are very bare and remind 
 
 
 A FALL UPON THE EDGE OF KIZIL-UZEN. 
 
 me of Andalusia. We still follow the course of the Kizil-Uzen, 
 which takes the Persian name of Safid-Rud at Rustemabad, 
 where the Turkish domain ends. We cross the picturesque 
 bridge of Mendjil, where we see a goatherd driving his goats 
 across large fragments of rock, and we feel with a vengeance the 
 well-known Mendjil wind, which twists about the few trees in this 
 region, which has all the appearance of Central Asia. We are
 
 94 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 not surprised, therefore, to see near Mendjil a winter encampment 
 of men of Turkish race — the Kurds — who have erected some 
 reed huts in the midst of a plain, where their half-starved flocks 
 find but a meagre pittance. The scenery is wild and grand, the 
 setting sun lights up the clouds, and the barren slopes assume 
 the brightest of tints. In the midst of the darkness we cross the 
 bridge over the Safid-Rud, and we pass the night in the miser- 
 able hovel which does duty for a station. It is far from clean, and 
 is kept by two Kurds who are brothers. 
 
 Upon the 9th of April we start, with the sun shining brightly. 
 The Safid-Rud has to be waded across, and the river is broad, 
 with a very strong current. A horde of half-starved wretches 
 rush to our horses' heads, under the pretence of lending us their 
 aid. We do not in the least want them, but this gives them the 
 opportunity of asking us for alms with the pertinacity of crows 
 or jackdaws. Begging is a national concern. We then begin to 
 climb the mountain again, and the ascent is easy and the scenery 
 charming. From the summit of the pass of Karzan the view is 
 superb, in the distance being seen the snowy peaks, the bare 
 mountains with their variety of tints, and the sea with its white- 
 crested breakers. 
 
 We descend towards Mazraa, and as the deep snow is melting 
 our progress is much impeded. The mountains from which we 
 are emerging have all the geological aspect of the chains of Central 
 Asia, and they precede the steppe and the plain which extends as 
 far as Kamtchatka. 
 
 If you happen to visit Mazraa, where Persian is spoken, ascend 
 the hill at the foot of which the road passes, climb as high as you 
 can get, and cast a farewell look northward to the white mountains 
 where you have passed so many toilsome hours, supposing that 
 you have come through them, as we did, in the midst of a thaw, 
 and then turning your back upon them contemptuously, as upon
 
 From Reshd to Teheran. 
 
 95 
 
 the past, wrap yourself in contemplation and look to the future. 
 It will be the hour when the sun is setting, and if you have taken 
 the precaution of bringing a cloak to wrap round you, you need 
 be in no hurry to come down. You will have a grand piece of 
 scenery before you. At your feet the plain is enclosed between 
 two moles, as if it were the sea, receding towards the east, where 
 it forms the sky-line. To your left there is a lofty chain of 
 mountains covered with snow, with summits which stand out like 
 
 watchmen over the gates of a universe. One of them is visible 
 and seems very lofty, despite the perspective, being not impossibly 
 the Demawend. To the right, the chain is lower and seems to 
 get smaller in the distance, gradually diminishing in hills which 
 allow of a road runnino- throucrh them towards the desert of Iran. 
 These two chains form part of the Karzan mountains, like two 
 wings of an army following in their rear. 
 
 You see no trees anywhere. In the steppe there is nothing 
 but occasional columns of smoke to indicate the abode of man, or
 
 96 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 of villages huddled together in the valleys, like specks of grey 
 upon a greenish ground. But the distant tents are of every variety 
 of hue, so much so that you cannot take your eyes off them, and 
 everything which you cannot make out distinctly is charming, and 
 has all the attraction of the unknown, tempting the traveller on 
 and on. 
 
 When daylight fades, the distance is enveloped in mist, fades 
 away, and you alight from your horse. You then remark that 
 there is a stir of men in the square-built village, constructed in 
 imitation of a fortress. You hear the cries of children, the chatter 
 of women with pitchers on their heads, going to or coming from the 
 brink of some limpid stream, in the bed of which carrion maybe 
 is rotting, and you hear the bells of the caravan tinkling merrily 
 as it comes in. You see some beautiful flowers growing out of 
 perhaps a bit of horse dung, which has dropped on the road and 
 has had some water fall upon it ; while the lark sings blithely, as 
 light-hearted Frenchmen will do amid all their trouble and distress. 
 And you lie down to rest, resolved to get up early, mount your 
 horse, and see for yourself what are these specks dotted over the 
 steppe ; the molehills of men, towns no doubt. 
 
 PERSIAN WOMAN.
 
 THE ROYAL HIGHWAY FROM KAZVIN TO TEHERAN. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FROM TEHERAN TO BOSTAN. 
 
 The start from Teheran — The great historical road — -In the company of pilgrims — 
 Desolation of the salt desert — The Caspian Pylce — Our chance companions : 
 Hadji Baba the philosopher — A village in a small oasis : the sort of life led 
 there — Manufactory of saltpetre at Aouvan — Piety of Sadik the van-driver — 
 Peace and ventilation— Life underground — The karys — The Turkomans close 
 at hand — A night in a caravansary. 
 
 From Kazvin there is a post road to Teheran, the journey being 
 performed in carriages of Russian build, with the douga, and 
 drawn by three horses. By feeing the driver well, one can get 
 along at a good pace, the road running straight across the steppe. 
 We remained only long enough at Teheran to make our prepara- 
 tions, but we paid a visit to Rages and Veramine, about the 
 interesting ruins of which I shall have something to say later on. 
 
 In the meanwhile I must not forget to mention one marvellous 
 slo-ht at Veramine, and that Is the Djuma Mosque, built by Abu- 
 
 H
 
 98 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 Said Khan, in the year 722 of the Hegira. It was, of course, 
 during the reign of a Mogul that this great work was carried out, 
 the Mop^uls and their descendants havinsf covered Asia and India 
 with marvels of architecture. This mosque is a beautiful one, but 
 it will soon have disappeared. There still remain many stuccos 
 of the most elaborate richness of decoration, while the delicately 
 carved door-posts and the exquisitely wrought doors are remark- 
 able for their great wealth of ornament without being overloaded. 
 The cupola soars lightly and yet boldly above the building, which 
 is a masterpiece of elegance and grace. Yet it is being taken to 
 pieces and demolished bit by bit by a lot of savages, who are 
 inundating it in order to shake its foundations and bring it to the 
 ground. And all this to get its bricks for building a wall for 
 some garden or stable. 
 
 At Teheran, we are the guests of our minister, M. de Balloy, 
 and his charming wife, whose kindness and hospitality we shall 
 never foro^et We start for Meshed in a van with our luof2faee, 
 takinor w4th us letters of recommendation for the English and 
 the Russian agents. We have resolved to try and make our way 
 into Afghanistan, 
 
 The van has been hired from two Tartar Russians, who under- 
 take to convey us in twenty-eight days to the holy city of the 
 Shiites, of which the tomb of the Imam Riza is the principal 
 attraction. 
 
 We are to meet them beyond the station of Kabut-Gumbaz, 
 where we are to go with our post-horses, while they go by way 
 of the shrine of Shah-Abdul-Azim, which we have already visited, 
 and from which they are to start with a second van loaded with 
 merchandise and pilgrims. 
 
 The road which we are about to follow is the great highway 
 of armies and conquerors. Alexander went this road in the past 
 — how many have trodden his footsteps — and it was at Rages
 
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 A JEWESS OF TEHERAN.
 
 From Teheran to Bostan. ioi 
 
 that he halted, when, having resolved to strike a final blow at 
 Darius, who was flying before him, he made his preparations to 
 attack him. At each step, we encounter cities which are men- 
 tioned in history and aggrandized by the perspective of centuries. 
 The opinion which one has formed of them undergoes a great 
 change when once they are seen, despite the ruins which encumber 
 the soil, and which, we are told, are the dry bones of vanished 
 cities. And these are traces of civilizations which have not dis- 
 appeared but have shifted from one place to another. In a land 
 where the buildings are of earth, man migrates and abandons his 
 abode more readily than elsewhere. Close beside the ruins, there 
 are life and animation to be seen ; Teheran, near Rages ; Meshed, 
 near Tous ; and Shahroud, near Bostan. 
 
 But this is not the place to discuss such questions, and I 
 should have said that we started from Teheran for Meshed on 
 the 27th of April, in a whirlwind of dust. We leave to our right 
 the ancient Rei with its battered walls, the white tower of the 
 cemetery of the Guebres (fire-worshippers), who are in the habit 
 of exposing their dead to the open air. We cross the low chain 
 of mountains at the foot of which Rei is built, and from the 
 summit of the pass, we cast a farewell glance at Teheran, spread 
 out upon the plain, the white walls of the shah's residences being 
 visible on the spurs of the mountains. Thence we descend to 
 Meshed, the " pearl of Islam," as the Shiites call it. We pass a 
 dome, glittering like that of the Invalides, and it is that of the 
 large mosque of Shah-Abdul-Azid, beyond Rei. Though it is 
 dark, we gallop across the steppe, and Capus is thrown from his 
 horse, which stumbles in the obscurity, and strains his arms very 
 badly. Fortunately, we are to join the van to-morrow. 
 
 To-day (April 28) no sign of any van, though we should be 
 glad to continue our route, having got tired of contemplating 
 Demawend, who has sported his turban. The chief of the station
 
 I02 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 is a very amiable Kurd, and he tells us that his family has been 
 at the station ever since the days of Nadir-Shah, and has always 
 had the posting-house. He advises us to keep our patience, 
 telling us that the road is in a bad condition, and that the vans 
 must have been delayed. 
 
 Soon after, a foot-messenger comes in with a message from 
 our attendant, asking us to follow the former. We cross, not 
 without difficulty, the Kabut-Gumbaz river, which is much swollen, 
 and has a very rapid current, and near the bank we see our clothes 
 which have all been put out to dry, a horse badly hurt, and the 
 van which has just been pulled out of the river, where it had 
 upset. No great damage had been done, and we go by way of 
 the steppe to Sherifabad. In the second van, which follows, 
 perched upon the luggage, are three young mollahs, who come 
 from the same country as the drivers. They have just completed 
 their studies in the Medresses of Teheran, and they are about to 
 set the seal upon them by a pilgrimage to the holy places — thereby 
 earning from their co-religionists a higher opinion than young men 
 as a rule can command. 
 
 April 29th. 
 We start for Eivani-Keif, which is a continuation of the bare 
 and monotonous steppe, following the chain of the Elburz, and 
 distinguishing to the left its last spurs, which look like sand 
 furrowed by streams of water. The sun is already very scorching, 
 as we follow a valley which narrows near Eivani-Keif, with a 
 torrential river running through it. We do not lodge in the 
 caravansary attributed to Shah-Abbas, but in a caravansary of 
 the town, where we meet a young dancing man, who goes through 
 a performance by comparison with which the dances of central 
 Asia are chaste. We are agreed that we have never met so 
 obscene a people as the Persians ; this spectacle quite scandalizes 
 the young mollahs, who at sunset had said long prayers, with
 
 From Teheran to Bostan. 103 
 
 their foreheads resting upon a box which contained holy earth 
 from Kerbela. It was there that AH suffered martyrdom. The 
 van-driver of these young mollahs, endeavours to ingratiate him- 
 self with them by his reverential attitudes, and when he has done 
 his work, he tells his beads with a very devout air, but he is 
 rather absent-minded, for every now and then he rubs the inside 
 of his ear with them. 
 
 April 30th. 
 
 We go on, with the intention of encamping at Kishlak, about 
 twenty-five miles away. For about a third of the distance we go 
 through the Khevir steppe, which is covered with salt, while 
 to our right the hills seem like heaps of sand that have preserved 
 the impress of the waves of the sea which have evaporated and 
 left them with a layer of salt. The heat is very great as we 
 approach the mountains which bar the way before us, and which 
 seem spangled with silver, while patches of gypsum reflect the 
 rays of the sun. 
 
 We find ourselves in a regular defile, undulating like a 
 gigantic reptile along the bare mountains, which are streaked and 
 hollowed out at their base by the rapid and muddy waters of the 
 river, which are full of the crumbling earth. Our progress is 
 delayed by the deep channels which the heavy rains have made, 
 and it is as much as the eight horses can do, with all of us putting 
 our shoulders to the wheel, to get the van across. The road is a 
 very bad one, and the heat most trying ; there is no vegetation, 
 nothinsf but stones and salt. There is not a bit of shade save 
 that of the telegraph poles, which strike you as an anachronism 
 amid this savage and primitive nature. The river Tchai threads 
 its way along the valley, or defile, which is scarcely fifty feet 
 broad, and the van, which has no other road to travel, jolts over 
 the stones. Fortunately, this wooden vehicle gives, and it keeps 
 its equilibrium where any other would upset.
 
 I04 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 In this region everything is motionless and dead except the 
 water, which hurries off in haste from such a scene of desolation. 
 But do not drink of it, for it is very salt. Such are the Caspian 
 Pylae, according to certain historians, though I myself believe that 
 they are to be looked for elsewhere. 
 
 Upon emerging from this gorge we go down towards Kishlak, 
 the wheels of our van breaking through the Khevir salt crust. 
 To our left are still visible a chain of bare mountains, looking 
 quite grey under the deep blue sky, while in the south, far away 
 to the right, beyond the brilliant glitter of the plain, other undu- 
 lating mountains are seen as in a mirage. Straight in front of us, 
 before reaching the village, are a few square yards of cultivated 
 ground and five or siek black tents belonging to nomads. Upon 
 the ridcje of the hills and alonof the canals for irrigratinQf the land 
 are to be seen some women in white veils workincr in the fields of 
 green barley, and then we find our way into streets with garden 
 walls on each side, above them being visible the top of a glacis 
 and the battlements of a fortress. 
 
 It was time we did arrive, for the storm comes rushing down 
 from the mountain, raising a cloud of dust which hides both sky 
 and earth, and we had hardly got under the caravansary when the 
 thunder began to roll and the tongues of flame to light up the sky. 
 The women come down so quickly from the roofs that they seem 
 to fall into the houses, and the young men hurry homewards with 
 their flocks. The clouds are very high, and the wind drives them 
 before it, so there is scarcely any rain and much ado about nothing. 
 The northerly wind lasts, and it howls the whole night. 
 
 Our numbers increase every day, for the solitary travellers 
 whom we meet join our caravan. They accompany the vans and 
 do small jobs in return — lending a shoulder to the wheel, cleaning 
 the plates and dishes, fetching water, etc., in return for which 
 they are allowed to climb up behind and rest themselves when
 
 A KURDISH POSTILION.
 
 From Teheran to Bostan. 107 
 
 they are tired. Two of them afford us a good deal of amusement, 
 one of them a Turk from Treblzond, a handsome young man of 
 five and twenty, very brawny, jovial, and unconcerned, always 
 ready to lend a hand, with a constant smile on his face, and calling 
 to the horses when they are inclined to jib in such a loud tone 
 that we cannot help laughing. He is styled " Hadji" because he 
 has been to Mecca. He has travelled a good deal, but he rarely 
 pronounces properly the names of towns, though he can write 
 them correctly. He does not want to burden his head with 
 useless knowledge. 
 
 " What is the good of it ? " he says. " You read the books ; 
 you travel to look about you. I travel to find bread. When I 
 have found it, I eat it, and when my work is done, I go to bed and 
 sleep, because I am tired. I care little about anything else." 
 
 " Are you going to pray at the tomb of the Imam Riza at 
 Meshed ? " 
 
 Hadji smacks his tongue and shakes his head, saying — 
 
 " I have not even the time to pray ; and, besides, I rarely think 
 of doing so." 
 
 " Where are you going ^ " 
 
 " To Askhabad, to fetch ten tomans which are owing to me. 
 I know there is a good deal of building going on there, and I am 
 certain to find work." 
 
 " Is the old man you call the Baba also on the look-out for 
 employment ? " 
 
 " No fear of him ! He is a Persian, whom I met before getting 
 to Teheran, on his way from Kerbela to Meshed, where he is 
 going to pray. This is how he spends his time. But when he is 
 on the road, never a prayer does he say." 
 
 The Baba is a man of middle height, thin, with legs which do 
 not know the meaning of fatigue, for he never gets up to ride a 
 little way. At times he is pensive and gloomy ; at others an
 
 io8 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 intolerable chatterer to himself. He eats opium and has a very 
 sallow complexion and wild look. For all that, he is an excellent 
 
 cook, and likes being over the saucepan, 
 though he eats very little. He gets into 
 a terrible passion when the fire does not 
 burn properly, and when the fat does not 
 melt quick enough ; and if he is told that 
 the rice is not properly cooked, he apos- 
 'Jd I I ^^ trophizes the rice and the saucepan in 
 
 the funniest manner imaginable. He 
 always visits his displeasure upon inani- 
 mate thinfjs. 
 
 We have surnamed him " the phi- 
 losopher," perhaps because he carries 
 all his worldly goods in a bag ; and his 
 figure is one which really ought to be carved out in boxwood 
 when he puts on his visor and twists it round his head in the 
 direction of the sun. 
 
 May I St. 
 From Kishlak to Dehinemek (village of salt) the landscape 
 remains unchanged, for the steppe still stretches in front of us, 
 with the mountains to the left and the white strips of salt to the 
 right. Upon nearing Ardaban, a village with a picturesque 
 fortress, we begin to flounder among the irrigating canals. 
 
 As on the previous days, it is necessary to use the spade and 
 fill up the ruts, for nothing has ever been done to keep these roads 
 in order save by the sun and the wind. At the caravansary of 
 Ardaban, Amman, our attendant, encounters one of his uncles, 
 who is returning to Ardebil. He has come from Askhabad, where 
 he has been employed upon the railway works, upon a capital 
 little Kirghiz horse. It is his intention to stop at Teheran a little, 
 and then return home by the mountain. He complains very much
 
 From Teheran to Bostan. 
 
 1 1 1 
 
 of the Persians, who sell him everything very dear, and never 
 give him any change out of a piece of silver when he is alone. 
 
 After a pleasant halt under three mulberry-trees, we make a 
 fresh start. We are brought to a stop upon leaving the village by 
 a very deep watercourse, and it is found necessary to turn the 
 water off and fill up the breach, so as to render the passage pos- 
 sible. We call in the aid of the inhabitants of a neighbouring 
 village, and after two hours' hard work we get over. The villagers 
 
 DEHINEMEK. 
 
 only work under threat of punishment, and then very slowly — a 
 promise of money not having had the slightest effect upon them. 
 They seemed very much surprised when we did pay them at the 
 end of it. We then found ourselves upon a stony plain, and before 
 sunset we arrived at the " village of salt " on foot, leaving our 
 vehicles behind us, to come on as best they could, 
 
 Dehinemek consists of fifteen or sixteen houses ; and, as in all 
 the villages we pass through on this dreary road, the inhabitants 
 cultivate just enough land to feed their families, and sell flour.
 
 112 Through thk Heart of Asia. 
 
 barley, and forage to the passing pilgrims and travellers. They 
 make very handsome profits in this way, and some of them are 
 very well off. The whole of this region is one great bed of salt, 
 which is visible everywhere — on the banks of the rivers, along the 
 walls of the houses, and upon the very walls and bricks, while the 
 the water one drinks is made sickly by it. We pass along by 
 the most fertile portion of the Khevir, the soil of the plain being 
 covered with a crust which rises like dough as it dries. 
 
 The village presents a rather animated scene in the morning, 
 with the sound of the blacksmiths' forges, the shouts of the plough- 
 men urging on their oxen, cocks crowing, children crying, frogs 
 croaking, and fowls cackling as they peck about for food. Women 
 are spreading out their linen on the flat roofs, or going off, with 
 their shoes down at heel, to the wheel, dressed in short blue petti- 
 coats, loose red jackets, with a many-coloured veil dropping over 
 their shoulders. They are to be seen in the streets and roadway, 
 dressing their children, some of whom are quite naked. I noticed 
 one who was sitting upon his mother's knee while she picked the 
 insects out of his hair and scratched his back, much to his manifest 
 satisfaction, a mangy dog and a still more mangy donkey being 
 mute spectators of the scene. A good many dogs are asleep 
 on the roofs, the swallows just skimming over them, while the 
 sparrows fly off to the green spots in the wheat-fields. Close to 
 the caravansary, with its high brick walls, there is an ice-house 
 and an abandoned fort, the latter recalling the days when there 
 was constant danger of attack, and the former being a proof of 
 how hot the climate is and that the garrison enjoyed cool drinks. 
 The village is surrounded by solitudes like those we have previously 
 traversed, and the mountains are still bare and arid, while the 
 Khevir salt glistens in the distance. 
 
 This will never be more than a land of passage. The require- 
 ments of trade and the accidents of history have caused it to be
 
 From Teheran to Bostan. 113 
 
 traversed by a road along which haking-places have of necessity 
 been estabhshed, but nothing less than the imperious will of a 
 king of kings could people the neighbourhood of the caravansaries, 
 unless, indeed, it was the prospect of robbing the caravans and 
 the pilgrims. 
 
 From Dehinemek, the road leads to Abdullah-Abad, and then 
 to Lazguird, a village perched upon a hill, noted only for its im- 
 modest women and its delicious pomegranates. So Sadik, the 
 conductor of our vehicle, is very fond of Lazguird. Sadik Is a 
 small Tartar, very lithe and vigorous, with no eyes to speak of, 
 and a large nose ; always vociferating to 
 his groom AH ; insolent, rough of speech, ^^^'^-^^^^^ 
 
 noisy, and reckless ; very full of fun, 
 very dirty, and devoted to his Cabardian 
 horses. He is the antithesis of his 
 friend Abbas, who is portly and sedate, 
 with the pretension of being very well 
 dressed, walking with his head thrown 
 back, and with his turban on one side, 
 
 SADIK. 
 
 whereas Sadik wears his on the back 
 
 of his head. At Lazguird, Sadik, stimulated thereto by the 
 young mollahs, his compatriots, makes up his mind to say his 
 prayers. He has been told that Khorassan is very close, that he 
 will soon arrive at Meshed, and that it would please the Imam 
 Riza that he (Sadik) should fulfil the duties of his religion. So 
 Sadik settles himself, with bare feet, into one of the large niches 
 in which travellers sleep outside the caravansaries. He spreads 
 out a small piece of carpet, and begins a prayer. But what a 
 prayer it is ! While he is mumbling very fast, he scratches his 
 head and takes a look at his groom Ali, suddenly calling out to 
 him, " Give the grey horse more straw. Curry the quarters of 
 the white mare." He continues his prayer, scratches himself
 
 114 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 more energetically than before, blows up AH a third time, and 
 then, getting tired of so much piety, and taking advantage of the 
 temporary absence of the mollahs, gets up before he is through 
 his prayer, proffers a sigh, utters imprecations upon the Imam 
 Riza, pulls out his pipe, fills it, and lights up with an air of satisfac- 
 tion as of one who has done his duty. 
 
 In the Simnan bazaar, we meet men of Turkish race who 
 come from the shores of the Caspian ; one of them is of fair com- 
 plexion, so Russia is not far off 
 
 After having crossed the stream, with many mills along its 
 banks, which supplies Simnan with water, the road ascends 
 through a bare and mountainous steppe. There is no trace 
 of vegetation upon the heights, which are a regular desert. Our 
 stage is a long one, and we break it by a halt near a small 
 spring from w^hich ripples a tiny stream of w^ater, flowing down 
 the hillside and forming a grateful belt of green on each of its . 
 banks. The nor'-wester brings us a little rain, and we go on, the 
 rain still falling, as far as Aouvan, which lies hidden in a valley. 
 Near the caravansary rises an abandoned fortress, in which the 
 shepherds have for many years been in the habit of placing their 
 flocks to protect them from bad weather, and the dung has ac- 
 cumulated in thick layers, from which saltpetre is extracted by 
 men who have established their factory by the roadside, in the 
 open air. These saltpetre-makers are nomad, and during the 
 summer they go from place to place, wherever they can find 
 materials to work upon. 
 
 Holes made in the earth serve as vats and boilers, and they 
 excavate beneath these holes an oven, in which they make their 
 fires. The steppe supplies them with firing in the shape of 
 brushw'ood, and they form a wall to protect themselves from the 
 wind by piling up this brushwood behind the heaps of compost 
 which is to make the saltpetre. Their method is as follows :
 
 From Teheran to Bostan. 
 
 115 
 
 First they soak it for twenty-four hours, then filter it, then boil it 
 for another twenty-four hours, then cleanse the boiled residue by 
 placing it in reservoirs, and finally let the sun evaporate the water. 
 They make in a day about fifty pounds (English), which they sell 
 for a penny a pound. They express themselves as being quite 
 satisfied with the result of their work, which, as two middle-aged 
 
 A CARAVANSARY. 
 
 men, with five of their children around them, tell us, has been 
 carried on by their family for a very long period. 
 
 At Lazguird we had been told that the Turkomans were the 
 terror of Eastern Persia, from Khorassan to Aouvan. Some 
 shepherds tells us that the Yumud Turkomans had recently stolen 
 eight hundred sheep, and if the figures are exaggerated, the fact 
 itself is probable enough. These are episodes in the struggle still 
 going on between Turan and Iran.
 
 ii6 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 After leaving Aouvan we make a steep ascent, and then down 
 hill again, going from one basin to another by a sort of waste-weir, 
 so to speak. 
 
 The sea is not far off, and this is why to our left the sky is 
 paler on account of the moisture, and the horizon is lined with 
 grey clouds, while but for a strong north-west wind the outlines of 
 the mountain would not be so distinct. There is no variety in 
 the scenery as far as Kacha, where we encounter some Afghans. 
 They describe themselves as servitors of Ayub-Khan, and are 
 on their way to Teheran. They are men of proud mien, not at 
 all like the Persians. 
 
 After Kacha comes Daouletabad. One has only to get a dis- 
 tant view of Daouletabad to perceive that one has got into the 
 province of Khorassan, and that the Turkomans are close at hand. 
 The village bristles with fortifications, and nothing has been 
 neglected to guard against attack and secure the safety of the 
 inhabitants by a multiplication of walls and towers. 
 
 Daouletabad is made up of a square fortress facing north, and 
 of the long rectangle of gardens and cultivated fields to the south. 
 
 The fortress consists of a deep ditch and three parallel lines of 
 crenulated walls, with four towers at the four corners, these towers 
 increasing in height the further they are from the ditch. Entering 
 this fortress through two gateways, one after the other, both 
 defended by double towers, one notices that low houses and 
 stables are built up against the walls, so that the inhabitants and 
 cattle may be placed there when an attack is apprehended. In 
 the centre of the fortress are the residences intended for the chief, 
 his wives, his servants, and his soldiers. The present khan has 
 not a very warlike aspect, being a man with an enormous stomach, 
 whom his corpulency has made rather asthmatic. He can neither 
 read nor write, but he tells us that he is "a descendant of the 
 builder of the fortress, Motallib-Khan, who lived in the early
 
 From Teheran to Bostan. 
 
 117 
 
 part of the century. His brother was called Zulfagar-Khan, and 
 I am his son." 
 
 He is busy fitting up and restoring his abode, but he is not 
 building up the crumbling walls nor putting the gates in a state of 
 defence, for nothing has been seen of the Turkomans for twenty 
 years. And as the heat is extreme, on this day, May 7th, the 
 thermometer is 113^ F. in the sun — our good friend, dressed in 
 a very airy costume, is closely superintending the construction of 
 a hio-h tower, the use of which we do not at first understand. It 
 
 
 j3a^^^U■'■.--^3>■f^»tl }i 
 
 A?- 
 
 DAOULETABAD. 
 
 cannot be a watch-tower, for the country is in a peaceful state, 
 and there is no staircase to the top. 
 
 The khan, who is bathed in perspiration, says that it is a 
 ventilator. 
 
 The fortress has only one entrance. On the small square, 
 access to which was formerly closed, several tradespeople have 
 opened shops, in which they sell miscellaneous goods and tea. 
 Their booths are erected asfainst the wall which encloses the 
 gardens and cultivated fields, from which the inhabitants gain
 
 ii8 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 their means of existence, thanks to a shallow stream of potable 
 water. Now that all fear of attack has disappeared, the walls of 
 the enclosure are allowed to fall into disrepair, and the inhabitants 
 have even been tempted to cultivate the open ground, living in 
 the gardens by preference to the fortress, where they had not 
 much breathing-space. 
 
 Our day's journey terminates at Damgan, which precedes the 
 ruins. Inside the town there are a few monuments, some minarets, 
 attributed to the Sultan Hussein, a mosque, also in ruins, said to 
 have been built by Shah-Rukh, the son of the Emir Timour. It 
 is an insignificant town, with narrow and dirty streets, but it is 
 associated with the names of Timour and Shah-Rukh, which is a 
 sign that we are approaching the Turan country. Moreover, after 
 leaving Damgan, the mountains to our left get lower and lower. 
 At the extremity of the chain, Chirabad might be discerned on a 
 clear day. This reminds us of Turkestan ; and before us spread 
 the plain, the salt fields, and the arid steppe. However, to the 
 right of the road we can see two or three hamlets, some greenery, 
 and various signs of life. A white eagle is hovering in the air, so 
 there must be some birds for it to prey upon ; and soon after we 
 see some pigeons, rooks, and larks ; while nearer to the ground 
 are ants and other insects, with lizards to devour them. 
 
 Looking in the direction of the cultivated fields, we can see, 
 between them and the mountain, a row of orifices extending almost 
 in a straight line. They are the mouths of the karys, those veins 
 which may be said to float down their streams life in the midst 
 of death. I need hardly explain that a karys is an underground 
 canal, by means of which a spring is secured and conveyed to a 
 piece of low ground that has been brought into cultivation. The 
 course of the karys is perforated with shafts, through which the 
 soil is removed when it is being constructed or cleaned. The 
 ddbris is heaped up around the openings, which have the appear-
 
 From Teheran to Bostan. 119 
 
 ance of a succession of craters, but craters which do not vomit 
 forth any lava and from which a delightful coolness is emitted. 
 
 In order that the caravan men may be able to draw water for 
 themselves and their animals, charitable persons, or governors with 
 a certain amount of foresight, have in some places had built, near 
 the roadside, an arched staircase leading down to the underground 
 stream. Travellers halt at these spots, where they find, when 
 they require it, a shelter in the house of the keeper of the building, 
 
 
 
 ^'i' i& 
 
 :-f -.^, 
 
 W p-^ 
 
 y<Sii#:ii#^' 
 
 who will also supply them with provisions, if they care to pay a 
 high price for them. Such is the case at Kurian, where we made 
 a halt. 
 
 There is a staircase at Kurian going down a depth of nearly 
 fifty feet, with very high and awkward steps, but they lead 
 to a spring of very cold water. One passes from the furnace 
 above ground into complete shade, and then, sitting upon the 
 lowest step, one feels that one is quaffing ambrosia — for ambrosia 
 must certainly have been spring water — and that one would
 
 I20 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 willingly dig for months into the bowels of the earth if one could 
 be sure of opening a way for this treasure of liquid pearls, which 
 moistens the earth and arrays it in greenery and harvests, while 
 all around the pitiless sun is burning up the ground. 
 
 From Kurian we go on to Dehimollah, where we are to pass 
 the night. Before arriving there we have to climb a hill and clear 
 several ravines, and while Abbas, the first van driver, gets over 
 safely, our man Sadik gets stuck in the mud. 
 
 -t^ Yf^^^* '^%'^ *- 
 
 
 •^h Ib^ssASf-. 
 
 "VggsB- 
 
 WELLS. 
 
 We ask him why he did not follow the same route as Abbas, 
 instead of trustinof to chance. 
 
 " What is the use of so many precautions ? " 
 
 " Because you would have less trouble." 
 
 "Well, the roads are as it were an image of life." 
 
 " I do not quite follow you." 
 
 **Vallah! I speak truly. Roads are the image of life. 
 Whether they are good or bad, one must follow them to the end ; 
 whether you are rich or poor, you will see out the end of your 
 days."
 
 From Teheran to Bostan. 121 
 
 After this, we have no choice but to go on foot to our 
 caravansary ; it is some little distance from the village, so it is 
 advisable to send in there for some drinking water. 
 
 The place is crowded with Tartar and Arab pilgrims, women, 
 and merchants. Several dervishes came to beg, and get anything 
 but a pleasant reception from Sadik and Hadji. The "Baba" 
 himself grumbles not a little at seeing these men put out their 
 hands to us for alms when he himself has not got all he wants. 
 
 One gradually gets accustomed to this nomad kind of life, and 
 when the vermin are not too plentiful, the nights pass pleasantly. 
 
 It is nice, when rolled up in one's blankets, to watch the stars 
 as they glitter above the walls, while thoughts flit through the 
 brain more rapidly than the clouds driven before the storm. 
 There is a certain feeling of repose derived from hearing the dogs 
 as they prowl about, and the wind chanting the grand and simple 
 music of nature, while even the snoring of your tired companions 
 is not altogether unpleasant. You see a pair of bright eyes 
 gleaming ; it is a cat coming after food. The horses, half asleep, 
 munch their fodder with a regular motion of the jaws, and the 
 mules, as they turn over from side to side, rattle their bells. Then, 
 again, those who enjoy the fresh air get up before it is light, 
 having gone to rest before the sun went down. The lanterns are 
 seen crossing the yard like wills-o'-the-wisp, and the muleteers are 
 running to and fro after their animals which have got loose, shout- 
 ing to and swearing at one another. At last the mules are loaded, 
 farewells are exchanged, and amid many " salamats," the caravan 
 starts on its journey, the drivers gradually calming down, and the 
 bells ceasing to tinkle. 
 
 The large door opens and creaks on its hinges, when there 
 is one, as at Dehimollah ; a light crosses the courtyard. This is 
 probably the superintendent of the caravansary going back to bed 
 after a tour of inspection.
 
 122 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 In their turn the van-drivers get up in order to groom their 
 horses, and the curry-combs are heard as they pass them over the 
 animals' quarters with a sound Hke that of raking stones, while the 
 stallions neigh and plunge, regardless of the alternate coaxing and 
 threats of the stablemen. 
 
 Then, perhaps, one may have to drive off another cat which 
 has come prowling after the meat, and finally you get to sleep. 
 
 The road continues to be quite as monotonous, but the plain 
 has a physiognomy of its own. You fancy that you know where 
 you are and that you are about to see again spots which you have 
 already visited. You think that there is a town down below there, 
 
 at the elbow of the mountains. 
 Going further on you see below 
 a valley reminding you of the ap- 
 proach to Teheran. You make 
 the descent, and you remark that 
 there is a great deal of anima- 
 tion, people working in the fields, 
 carriages (arabas), gardens sur- 
 rounded with walls, canals, a cool 
 breeze, men wearing turbans, not 
 -^ so many black head-dresses and 
 more small Turkish eyes than 
 before, a stronger and better-fed 
 race, living upon a fertile soil. 
 The town is intersected by a large stream, there are several 
 caravansaries, a bazaar full of animation, a busy trade, English 
 and Russian goods, and Armenians, who are to be met with every- 
 where in Persia where money is to be made. The very fact of 
 their presence would almost suffice to prove that Shahroud is 
 a town in which plenty of business is transacted. 
 
 It is true that these Armenians are chiefly engaged in selling 
 
 f. 
 
 A PERSIAN GIRL.
 
 TARTAR PILGRIM.
 
 From Teheran to Bostan, 125 
 
 the wine and alcohol which they make themselves, and that, in 
 accordance with their precise numbers, one might infer as to how 
 many drunkards there were in the town. 
 
 Shahroud is upon the trade route for merchants coming from 
 Russia by way of the Caspian Sea and Asterabad. Its situation 
 is a good one geographically ; there is no lack of water, 
 and the town is the converging point of many roads, for, 
 whether you are coming from the west, the north, the east, or 
 Afghanistan, you must pass through Shahroud, and the sea is 
 not far off. 
 
 It is easy to see that a sense of security now reigns in the 
 Khorassan, for the fortress is falling into ruins. The ditch is 
 being converted into gardens, and now that there is no longer 
 anything to be feared from the Turkomans, the town is extending. 
 People are selecting the best places for building and cultivating 
 the ground, whereas formerly they selected the safest, always 
 assuming that there was water. The sense of danger made them 
 huddle close together. It is interesting to observe and easy to see 
 that the natives of the Khorassan had mainly in view, when laying 
 out their towns and villages, their protection from the Turkomans. 
 They studiously avoided all places where a surprise could easily 
 be effected, perching themselves upon heights which commanded 
 a good view of the horizon, in preference to the amphitheatre of 
 the mountains from which there were not many issues. This, 
 no doubt, was the chief reason for the abandoning of Bostan, 
 the neighbouring town, which is overlooked by heights, which is 
 reached by deep defiles, and which is deficient in exits. Whereas 
 Shahroud is upon the ridge of the plain, and there is no lack 
 of space. 
 
 Bostan is a good hour's journey distant. It is situated in a 
 circular valley about six miles in diameter, shut in by mountains 
 with several depressions which admit of a passage through them.
 
 126 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 And if the Greek IluXat is taken to mean defiles, this must be the 
 site of the Hecatompylos of the ancients. 
 
 Bostan is at present no more than a petty village surrounded 
 by walls, its houses grouped around a pretty mosque and a totter- 
 ing minaret. We are not allowed to visit the mosque, because we 
 are infidels ; but, upon the other hand, we are permitted to ascend 
 the minaret about thirty feet, which is as far as we care to go, for 
 it is very unsteady. The postilion who accompanies the horses 
 which we have borrowed for this little excursion is very loquacious, 
 and he is full of stories about the Turkomans of whom I speak to 
 him. He can remember the terror of the population when their 
 approach was announced. No one ventured to leave the place, 
 especially at Bostan. The gates of the town were closed, and a 
 watch for them was kept from the top of the walls, the inhabitants 
 only breathing freely again when they had disappeared. 
 
 They often carried off fiocks, and women, and children. The 
 people who had occasion to travel in the direction of the Atruck, 
 took every possible precaution beforehand. They were careful to 
 provide their horses with shoes and nails purchased from the 
 Turkomans, and when they reached dangerous passes, where an 
 ambuscade might be looked for, they put their horses into a gallop. 
 The greatest danger was to be apprehended from the 
 plunderers who came in small numbers on speedy horses. It 
 was impossible to capture them, as they had no difficulty in con- 
 cealing themselves, and in twenty-four hours they got over a great 
 deal of ground. When I point out to my interlocutor that Shah- 
 roud is a large town, that the Persians are strong in numbers, that 
 their army is a large one, and that it would be easy to pay these 
 Turkomans back in their own coin, he tells me that no one had 
 ever thought of doing this, that a few troops with guns were 
 occasionally sent out to encamp near Bostan, but that this was of 
 no use, as the Turkomans waited till they were gone.
 
 From Teheran to Bostan. 
 
 127 
 
 Patriotism does not exist in this country, and the inhabitants 
 do not seem to possess that kind of instinct of self-preservation 
 which is the characteristic of nations with any Hfe in them, and 
 from which is derived that spirit of initiative, which in turn leads 
 people to seek a remedy for evil, to band themselves together and 
 be of good cheer ; to put upon one side, in the hour of danger, 
 individual interests, and think only of those of the country. At 
 times like these, man, instead of wrapping himself up in his 
 eo^otism, rushes forward to the defence of a flag or a frontier ; 
 
 but the Persians have never been attacked with this "sublime 
 fever." 
 
 Outside the walls of Bostan and Shahroud, we see a number 
 of gipsy encampments. These gipsies tell us that they are natives 
 of Seistan, and that they gain their living by making brass-wire, 
 and working on metals. They are tributaries of the chief of the 
 shah's running footmen (Tchater-Bachi), to whom each family 
 pays an annual sum of fourteen krans (about nine shillings). 
 
 They live either in tents or in huts made of mud, with a felt 
 roof.
 
 128 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 When they move their camp, they roll up their roof and carry 
 it off with them. They are never slow to beg, and they look upon 
 us as very fair game, the old women of the tribe coming to us 
 with outstretched hands, though not until they have taken the pre- 
 caution of throwing some live coals on to the ground to propitiate 
 the fates. They are of very much the same type as the natives, 
 with the exception that they are dirtier ; more swarthy, for they 
 live in the open air; and thinner, because their table is not a 
 plentiful one.
 
 ENTRANCE TO THE VILLAGE OF SADERABAD. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FROM BOSTAN TO MESHED. 
 
 The land and water — Expatriated radishes — Abundance of water at Sabzevar — 
 Consecutive upsets — A Persian emigrant — His views — No res piiblica — The 
 caravansary in the day time — The Arabs — The witch of Endor — Diplomacy — 
 The print of Imam's footstep — The fear of Turan — The watch towers — The 
 Turkomans as slave dealers — Persian pusillanimity — Before the holy city of 
 the Shiites — Religious enthusiasm — Its various manifestations — " Distance 
 lends enchantment to the view." 
 
 May 1 2 th. 
 
 The spring is coming, and the steppe is all in flower, but this 
 
 does not suffice to break the monotony of the route. The horses 
 
 are bleeding at the neck and near the shoulder ; several small 
 
 veins burst, and this is a natural blood-letting, which will do the 
 
 poor beasts good. They may well be congested after so many 
 
 long marches in the sun, without a drop of water. Our van-driver 
 
 says that it is because they want to eat fresh grass, after having 
 
 been fed so long on barley and dry hay. The same thing is noted 
 
 in Algeria. 
 
 K
 
 I30 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 We are twelve hours on the road before reaching Meiamei, a 
 pleasant oasis where there is an abundance of water, where the 
 mulberry-trees, poplars and willows afford such abundant shade 
 that one may fancy one's self in paradise, though the infernal 
 regions, as represented by the steppe, are not far off 
 
 At less than a mile from Miandecht, we see the ruins of a 
 fortress, said to date from the time of Shah- Ismail. 
 
 One might imagine that the men of this country would like 
 to migrate, but imperious nature does not allow them a choice 
 of dwellings, and thus they build. One circumstance urges them 
 to go away, while another prompts them to return, and so they 
 leave ruins close to the water, from which in no case can they 
 move far away. They are prisoners tied to a long but very stout 
 chain, and the links of it are closely soldered. 
 
 From Miandecht we get to Alhak, halting near a fortified 
 caravansary in ruins and a rivulet of salt 
 water. The few woe-becrone inhabitants of 
 the hamlet come to see us. Their existence 
 is a pastoral one. When they are not abus- 
 ing one another, they spin some poor kind 
 of rope out of old pieces of felt. They are 
 very kindly disposed, and are anxious to 
 offer us a treat by giving us something of 
 European origin. So they bring us a few- 
 green stems, which, if there was any root at 
 the end of them, would be radishes. W^e 
 look at the man who brings them to us as 
 much as to ask what they are, and he, much 
 surprised at our ignorance, begins to munch the leaves, and says, 
 with an air of superiority, " This is how you eat them." 
 
 As we emerge from the hills, we catch sight of the caravansary 
 of Abbas- Abad, and to the right is a vast sheet of white, which 
 
 LITTLE GIRL AT ABBAS'ABAD*
 
 From Bostan to Meshed. 131 
 
 might be taken for snow, though in reality it is the Khevir salt 
 shininor in the sunlicrht. 
 
 At Abbas-Abad, we give a few medical consultations, among 
 others, to a Persian who has been stabbed in the hand while 
 disputing with some Tartar pilgrims about payment for a measure 
 of barley. 
 
 The caravansary of Saderabad is in a very tumbledown state. 
 Opposite to it is a ruined village fortress, inhabited by people of 
 Asterabad, who had been brought there to defend the fortress, 
 keep the cisterns in order, get forage ready, 
 and lend a hand to the caravan men and 
 pilgrims. In return, the government paid 
 each of the ten families seven tomans (a 
 toman is worth about 'js. 6d.) a year, and a 
 hundred measures of flour. But the govern- 
 ment does not keep its word, for though it 
 sometimes pays the money, it never pro- 
 vides the flour, and the poor wretches are in 
 deep distress. They live like lizards in the 
 
 . A SPINNER AT SADERABAD. 
 
 midst of rums, and whenever one 01 them 
 
 finds an opportunity of seeking fortune elsewhere, he disappears 
 
 for good. So their number is decreasing every day. 
 
 We go to pass the night at the new Mazinan, standing rather 
 higher than the old village, which was destroyed by a flood about 
 twenty years ago. The ruins of the abandoned village seem 
 sev^eral centuries old ; the houses are built of earth containing a 
 certain quantity of salt, and as they are exposed to very severe 
 frosts, to furious winds, and a pitiless sun, they soon fall to pieces. 
 
 After leaving Mazinan, there is less salt, and we renew 
 acquaintance with the saxaoul, a shrub which has been of great 
 service to us in the Ust-Urt. What an excellent fire we make 
 with this shrub ! At Sutkar, the caprices of fortune throw other
 
 132 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 acquaintances in our path, viz. Afghans, conducting Ayub- 
 Khan's wives to Teheran. Exile has not abated the pride of 
 these men, who think so much of their descent ; they are disdain- 
 ful and insolent to the natives, as if they were in a conquered 
 country. 
 
 From Sutkar, we go to spend the night near an abambar 
 (water cistern), in a ruined caravansary. The next day sees us at 
 Sabzevar, on a fertile plain bounded to the north by the mountain. 
 There is an abundance of water, the karys are numerous, and the 
 villages surrounded by cultivated fields, while there are water- 
 courses by the roadside. We notice many fields of poppies, a 
 proof that opium is made and sold. So the rich countries provide 
 the poor ones with the means of intoxication. The population is 
 mainly Persian, but the race is a heavier one than in the west. 
 
 As the caravansary where we are to pass the night is in the 
 east of the town, we go through the narrow street of the bazaar, 
 where our vehicle has only just room to pass, causing a good deal 
 of alarm to the shopkeepers, who are afraid that their goods and 
 trays will be upset. They may well be anxious, for the enormous 
 van rolls to and fro upon the rough pavement, just grazing the 
 doors and windows, and threatening to crush people right and 
 left. 
 
 We sleep in the caravansary, which is crowded with pilgrims 
 and merchants, for there have been a great many travellers about 
 since we have been upon this high road from the East to the West, 
 which makes a bend at Shahroud towards Asterabad and the 
 Caspian. 
 
 The caravansary is surrounded by tombs, and has not a com- 
 parison often been made between a caravansary and human life .-* 
 
 From Sabzevar to Rabat-Sarpuch there is an abundance of 
 water, but it is salt, as Hadji has an opportunity of discovering at 
 Hussein- Abad, before reaching Rabat. We had gone some way
 
 
 i \ 
 
 1 r
 
 From Bostan to Meshed. 135 
 
 from the van in order to look at a field of poppies, where men 
 were feeling the heads in order to see if it was time to extract the 
 sap, A limpid stream was flowing at the roadside, and as Hadji 
 was thirsty he asked some old men with beards half white from 
 age, half red from henna, whether it was good. They declared, 
 " by Allah, that it was excellent." 
 
 Hadji then took a draught, but soon spat it out in disgust, and 
 began to curse the old men for deceiving him, declaring that 
 " Persians could never speak the truth even when they were 
 white-bearded." 
 
 I never could understand this peculiar fondness for lying, so 
 characteristic of Persians and many other Eastern races. It is, 
 perhaps, inherent in the nature of man, to whom the naked truth 
 is distasteful, owing to an aberration of mind analogous to those 
 aberrations of taste peculiar to stomachs which have been upset 
 by over-indulgence, or which are naturally weak or susceptible of 
 singular appetites, as in the case of many children. 
 
 Upon the 19th, after being jolted along the rough steppe, 
 which was powdered over with a sprinkling of salt or saline 
 growths, we reached some hills preceded by a ravine, which is not 
 particularly steep, and along which trickles a rivulet of brackish 
 water. The first van passes without any difficulty, but as ours, 
 which is the second, climbs up the hill, with Sadik quietly smoking 
 his pipe and holding the reins very loosely, I notice that we are 
 going too much to the right. I observe this to Sadik, but he tells 
 me that it is "all right." No sooner has he said so than the van 
 sways over, with Sadik and a heavy chest toppling on to me. I 
 find myself thrown against the side of the van, which has turned 
 over, and a counter-shock forces me back under the pole, between 
 the horses' legs, from which I extricate myself with remarkable 
 rapidity. Turning round I find that Capus has disappeared 
 beneath the baggage, while Pepin is caught hand and foot ; the
 
 136 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 servants perched up behind had had time to jump off. We extri- 
 cate the others as quickly as possible, but while Pepin was a good 
 deal bruised, Capus was intact, and Sadik had not even smashed 
 his pipe. The baggage is picked up out of the mud, the bruises 
 are washed, and, after drinking a cup of tea, we make a fresh 
 start. Sadik gets so well lectured, that he appeals to the devil, to 
 Mahomet, and to the Imam Riza, and declares he will be more 
 careful. 
 
 But at the next ravine we come to the same thing happens, 
 the only difference being that Pepin, despite his bruises, manages 
 to jump off in time, while I feel a good deal bruised about the thigh 
 and the chest. However, we continue our journey in the direc- 
 tion of Churab, which is only twelve or fourteen miles off. I have 
 as one of my travelling companions a tall young man from Hama- 
 dan, who is full of life and spirits, and who is delighted at leaving 
 his native country, as he tells me on the way. We go up and 
 down some very sandy hills, and when the easterly wind does not 
 blind us with dust we chat together. 
 
 The young man from Hamadan is very loquacious, and he 
 informs me that he is a mason and bricklayer by trade, that chance 
 had taken him to Tiflis, where he was not long in discovering that 
 Russia was a nice country to live in, and that when he returned 
 home with some small savings he determined to start off again as 
 soon as possible. So he sold a small property which belonged to 
 him, and left home one fine morning under the pretext of going 
 to pray at the tomb of the Imam Riza at Meshed. In reality he 
 intends going into the Transcaspian district, where he is sure of 
 obtaining work, as a great deal of building is going on since the 
 Russians came into the country, and he is an excellent workman. 
 He carries all his fortune in Russian notes, in a small pocket sewn 
 into his shirt. He remarks with a laugh that it is not heavy to 
 carry and much handier than the krans.
 
 <„^r*FBO-i^^,j™>-™7fl-|n '■nn?'^'*;'"-^-^ -T^"^""^ 
 
 
 L_
 
 From Bostan to Meshed. 139 
 
 "Why," I ask him, " is there no paper money in Persia ?" 
 
 " The Persians are too stupid." 
 
 " You are a Persian ; why do you speak ill of your 
 country ? " 
 
 " I am not a Persian ; I am from Hamadan. Those who 
 govern are at Teheran." 
 
 The poor fellow does not understand the idea of nationality 
 which is current in Europe. He is from Hamadan, and he does 
 not get beyc)nd that ; and he does not see that he is of Persian 
 nationality because he speaks the Persian language. What has 
 he in common with the people of Teheran ? Why, nothing at all. 
 His interest lies outside the frontier, and he has no hesitation in 
 going across it. 
 
 " Can you sing like this ? " he says. And thereupon he howls 
 loud enough to deafen one, and asks if he sings nicely. 
 
 I reply, " Barek Allah ! You sing like a btilbul (nightingale)." 
 
 " Russki. I understand Russian." 
 
 " Yes ; Russki ; that is it." 
 
 " Da (yes), khleb (bread), vada (water), dienghi (money). A 
 very good thing, money." 
 
 " But you could make money in Persia." 
 
 " Here ? (with an air of disdain). Look at the earth, it is 
 salt ; taste the water, it is salt ; the roads are so bad that the 
 vehicles upset ; wages are low ; the soldiers are thieves ; the valis 
 (governors) are thieves." 
 
 " And his majesty the shah ? " 
 
 " He is no good either." And he jumps about with an agility 
 which shows that, if no respecter of persons, he is very active on 
 the leg. 
 
 Green fields of wheat in the bottom of the valley indicate our 
 approach to Churab (salt water). There must be inhabitants 
 close by, as we see that there is food growing to feed them.
 
 140 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 A very remarkable trait in the Persian character, which I 
 again have an opportunity of noticing at Churab, while we are 
 consoling ourselves for the day's mishaps with an incalculable 
 quantity of tea and milk, is indifference — for others, of course 
 — or particularism, as it is called. Mutual help is not a maxim 
 which regulates the conduct of the people in this country. They 
 witness the misfortunes of others with the utmost tranquillity ; 
 they never take any one's part unless they are directly interested, 
 for in their eyes to be weak is to be ridiculous. A muleteer over- 
 whelms with insults an unfortunate woman who is returninof from 
 Meshed, where she has been to bury her son in holy ground, 
 refusing to take her any further, despite his bargain, unless she 
 gives him as much extra, upon the plea that it is very hot and 
 that the dust is intolerable. This woman is all alone, but not one 
 of the thirty people in all the caravan thinks of taking her part. 
 She is in the right, but she is weak ; so they only laugh at her. 
 Several consequential persons seated beside her go on smoking 
 their ghalyan stolidly, and let the muleteer make off without saying 
 a word to him. The woman remains in the caravansary, and she 
 will get away as best she can. One can understand, by the light 
 of facts like these, that there can be no such thing as a res piiblica, 
 where people never concern themselves about others. 
 
 From Churab, where, despite its name, excellent drinking 
 water is to be had, we start with the intention of sleeping at 
 Nichapur. After three hours' march, we reach Zumanabad by an 
 undulating steppe dotted with hillocks. This miserable village is, 
 like all the others in this region, surrounded by walls, and it is 
 built after the same plan as the hamlet-fortresses of the Khorassan, 
 that is to say, almost in a square, with turrets at each corner and 
 upon both sides of the gateway. Cavities underground serve as 
 a courtyard for the stock, the ground floor of the houses built 
 against the walls as a stable, and the first floor as a residence for
 
 From Bostan to Meshed. 141 
 
 the poverty-stricken people who cultivate the poor land outside 
 the walls. 
 
 I go on In advance In company with a young fellow from 
 Teheran, who has been employed to help Ali the groom. We 
 settle down In the shade under the wall of the guard-room, 
 just In front of the gate, and after having got a stoop of sour milk 
 to quench my burning thirst, no water being obtainable, I have 
 some talk with my young companion. He is about fifteen, and 
 cannot remember having had any parents ; he has always lived 
 in the bazaar, begging and stealing, and In appearance he Is lanky, 
 badly marked with smallpox, and full of vermin. 
 
 " Why are you going to Meshed ? " 
 
 "To pray at the tomb of the Imam Rlza." 
 
 " You are a good Mussulman, then ? " 
 
 " Yes, a very good Mussulman, Vallah ! " 
 
 " But I have never seen you say a namaz (prayer) ; how is 
 that ? " 
 
 He begins to laugh, and when I press him further for his 
 reasons, he admits that he does not know, but that he Is anxious 
 for a change of air. 
 
 The few inhabitants of Zumanabad form a circle around me, 
 and my young companion very complacently explains to them all 
 about me. 
 
 Beyond Zumanabad, we come to a bridge, and upon examining 
 its condition, we arrive at the conclusion that the chances of up- 
 setting or getting safe across are about even. Our reckless driver, 
 Sadik, determines to chance It, and, by a piece of good luck, gets 
 safe across. This does not induce his companion to do the same, 
 so he unloads his waggon, and half of the villagers are employed 
 for quite an hour in taking the goods, some of which are very 
 heavy, to the other side. After punishment has been administered 
 to two of the men who have stolen clothes belonging to the
 
 142 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 mollahs, the waofo-ons are loaded ao^ain, and we resume our 
 tiresome route. 
 
 At nightfall, we get to Nazerabad, where we encounter two 
 travellers from Europe, one a very tall man, the other of middle 
 height. The former is a correspondent of tho. Standard, the 
 second an American bicyclist. Both of them have attempted to 
 enter Afghanistan, and they are both returning, anything but 
 pleased, to Europe, by Asterabad and the Caucasus. Raleigh, 
 the correspondent of the Standard, says that he shall await the 
 declaration of war by Greece, which, he observes with a smile, is 
 imminent, and Stevens, the bicyclist, is going to embark for 
 Bombay, whence he will travel on his machine across India. Our 
 two new companions have come on foot from Nichapur, whence 
 they had started in the evening with their waggon. It is quite 
 dark, and there is no sign of the waggon, so we give them a share 
 of our dinner and blankets, and the next morning they start for 
 Asterabad and we for Meshed. The American is on his bicycle, 
 but he will have to carry it on his back very frequently, for the 
 canals and watercourses intersect the road in so many places. 
 
 From Nazerabad to Nichapur, the country is well cultivated, 
 and upon approaching the town, the wind brings us the odour of 
 the poppies which we can see swaying to and fro like velvet cloths 
 with brilliant tints on them. There is plenty of water, that in the 
 streams being salt, while that in the karys is excellent. Nichapur 
 is surrounded, like Sabzevar, by ruined walls, and protected by a 
 broad ditch. The bazaar is full of life, like all those beyond 
 Shahrud, the merchants in it havinor a larsje stock of English and 
 Russian cotton stuffs, Russian and English needles, Russian and 
 French sugar, and Angouleme writing-paper, these being the only 
 French goods I came across, and Russian sugar is gradually 
 pushing the French out of the market. The mercery goods are 
 either Persian, German, or Austrian, with French trade marks.
 
 From Bostan to Meshed. 
 
 143 
 
 The matches are of Austrian make. There is a native supply of 
 felts, neither very well made or substantial, with printed stuffs of 
 a very common pattern. There are a great many druggists, 
 whose wares are of various origin : from Europe, India, and 
 Turkestan. There is also a great demand for talismans. The 
 natives manufacture objects of daily use or sell products of the 
 country, such as rice, corn, opium, barley, and tobacco. Add to 
 this a great number of Arab pilgrims in the streets, assailed by 
 loquacious Persian shopkeepers, and you will get a fair idea of 
 what this and other bazaars are like. 
 
 -^^-'--^J 
 
 THE ENTRANCE TO NICHAPUR. 
 
 We go to lodge at a caravansary situated to the east of the 
 town. It is very large and very dirty, but we are given the state 
 rooms, on the first floor above the shops, well out of the sun and 
 fairly free of vermin. From noon to two o'clock, we enjoy the 
 pleasure of a siesta, and we are not the only ones who do the 
 same. 
 
 The caravansary, just before so noisy, is now very quiet. 
 Under the porch a number of people are stretched out at full 
 length in various postures, all of them asleep, except a child of 
 about ten, a deformed being, naked to the skin, who is l}'ing on
 
 144 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 his back, with his dropsical stomach baking in the sun. The 
 shopkeeper opposite takes advantage of the kill in business to dye 
 his beard black, and his next door neighbour, a vendor of wood 
 and barley, combs his scanty locks, waters his vegetables, mops 
 his forehead with his sleeve, and retires to the back of his premises ; 
 the vendor of tea, seated beside his extinguished urn, goes off to 
 
 sleep, with his head between his 
 ' - ^f^^^^^'^^~' legs ; close beside him, his son. 
 
 lying upon his stomach, is asleep 
 on the bricks, feeling every now 
 and then — in his dreams, let us 
 hope ! — for a flea, or worse. 
 The animals imitate the human 
 beings : donkeys, mules, and 
 horses are asleep, either lying 
 down or standing up, and flick 
 the flies off with their tails in a 
 mechanical sort of way. The 
 only sound is the buzzing of the 
 flies, an occasional tinkling of 
 the bells on the animals' necks 
 when they turn in their sleep, the twitter of a swallow as it 
 flits through the air, or the flapping of the cloth velarium sus- 
 pended over the doorway as a protection from the sun. 
 
 In course of time, every one wakes up again ; the Arabs come 
 to make their purchases, gliding into the shops like phantoms clad 
 in a dirty shroud ; but they are phantoms who make a terrible 
 din. There is a medley of harsh and guttural voices ; the dis- 
 cussion waxes very warm, and is accompanied by gestures made 
 by long bony arms which emerge from the burnouses, and the 
 fingers at the extremity of which are black with dirt. The 
 question in dispute is a halfpenny worth of barley or a few bits of 
 
 
 A PILGRIM DRINKING TEA.
 
 From Bostan to Meshed. 145 
 
 wood, the purchaser declaring that he has not got his money's 
 worth, and the vendor that he has given too much. At last, the 
 bargain is struck. The phantom pulls out his purse and slowly 
 takes from it some bad coins which the shopkeeper strikes against 
 the ground and refuses to accept. The purchaser pretends to 
 examine them, and to be much surprised to find that they are not 
 good ones. Then he puts them back and takes out some good 
 money, which is duly accepted. As soon as he has gone, another 
 customer arrives, and the same scene is enacted. 
 
 It is true that the Persians sell barley mixed with earth and 
 stones, and that after they have weighed it, their customer is 
 obliged to weigh it again, as they put their feet upon the bottom of 
 the scales to brino- them down. It is true that the wood is crreen 
 and will emit only smoke ; the bread is generally swollen out with 
 water, and made of bad flour. But these Arabs are never satisfied, 
 they are always complaining of the quality of the goods, and think 
 the prices are too high ; they insist upon choosing for themselves, 
 and cleaning their barley themselves. 
 
 Here, for instance, I notice an old man who is discussing 
 for ten minutes about twopennyworth of barley, who gives 
 it back, and has his money returned to him ; as he goes off, 
 muttering between his teeth, when passing in front of the tea- 
 vendor's shop, with a swoop rapid as that of a hawk, he seizes, 
 with his hooked fingers, a bit of sugar and walks away, 
 dignified for all his rags. His wife comes up to resume negotia- 
 tions about the barley. She is very tall, very angular and thin, the 
 bones of her chin, nose, and cheeks seem to be coming throuo-h 
 her skin, which is parched like that of a mummy, while her 
 shoulder-blades protrude under the dark frieze of her dress like 
 the extremities of a gibbet. She reminds one of the witch of 
 Endor. 
 
 When she gets in front of the sacks of barley, she suddenly 
 
 L
 
 146 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 subsides into a recumbent position, reminding one of a frog 
 upon the brink of a pool. She plunges her hands, which are 
 like hayforks, into the barley, turns it over and tastes it. Her 
 toothless jaws munch it, and her cheeks swell out like those of a 
 toad. What a horrible old woman ! However, she strikes a 
 bargain with the dealer, and taking out the coins, one by one, she 
 hands them to him as if they were pastilles, as much as to say, 
 "What a lucky man you are to receive so much money." Then 
 she gets up like a wading-bird or a dromedary, and stalks 
 majestically off 
 
 By three o'clock all is astir in the caravansary. Tartars, 
 Arabs, and Persians are getting ready to start at sunset. They 
 groom down the mules, and there is a constant coming and going ; 
 the muleteers are singing, the dervishes are bawling, and the 
 itinerant vendors are drawling out the contents of the baskets 
 which they carry on their heads. 
 
 The saucepans of the cooks in the open air, near the principal 
 gateway, are steaming, and they fish out of the broth for their 
 customers, principally Arabs, fragments of entrails and other refuse, 
 which they sell for a farthing or so. 
 
 Then come the jugglers : men with performing monkeys and 
 snake-charmers, who exhibit the reptiles captured in the neigh- 
 bouring mountains, and tell their story with great volubility, nearly 
 all of them in a sing-song tone. They are accompanied by a 
 grave-looking mollah, who sells bits of paper which serve as a 
 charm against snake-bites, and even against bullets. While all 
 this is going on a mule comes back from the water-trough, kicking 
 up his heels in the air and putting all the onlookers to flight. 
 Then comes a mulatto who performs feats of agility by keeping 
 a piece of broken glass upon his forehead which he strikes in tune 
 with another piece of glass resting on his thick lips, while behind 
 him is a bandurra player who forms the orchestra. After this the
 
 From Bostan to Meshed. 147 
 
 mulatto makes a boy climb on to his back and ties his feet tightly- 
 together, going through a mimic dance, the obscene character of 
 which seems to delight the Persians. 
 
 Night sets in, and the caravansary is once more quiet, after the 
 departure of the travellers who have been anxious to avoid the 
 heat of the day. We hear the mules' bells tinkle, the gates open 
 and close, and the pilgrims depart upon their donkeys. Every 
 now and then there is a clatter of mules and fresh travellers enter- 
 ing, and once more silence is re-established, broken now and again 
 by the loud braying of a donkey. 
 
 
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 fci.,._.. 
 
 THE CEMETERY OF NICHAPU R. 
 
 For more than an hour I hear the mumbling of prayers, which 
 vibrate along the vaulted roof as In a chapel. Are they the prayers 
 of a devout Mussulman or only of some sick man who Is endea- 
 vouring In this way to vanquish an enervating attack of Insomnia ? 
 
 From NIchapur we go to Chahabad, where we halt near the 
 mouth of a karys, under the arch of which we take a bolt out 
 of the sun. Our horses being tired, we make rather a long stay, 
 and a number of pilgrims pass us. From time to time a cloud 
 of dust, which disappears as It reaches the rivulet, announces the
 
 148 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 approach of a band of chattering Arabs. They are always dis- 
 puting with one another about something, and, not being troubled 
 with any superfluous flesh, they go at a good pace, men, women 
 and children, following their donkeys on foot. They are nearly 
 all very thin, and half naked ; but many of them have handsome 
 and reofular features. 
 
 From Chahabad the eye embraces a well-cultivated country, 
 very green and fertile. The plain extends east and south, while 
 to the north, bare mountains, in the crevices of which patches of 
 snow are still visible, shut in the horizon. 
 
 Our stage is a short one, ending at Kadamga, which, with its 
 plane trees and a fine avenue of pines, is a delightful place to stop 
 at, though the crowd of pilgrims, encamped pell-mell in the open, 
 rather detracts from the charm. Kadamga owes its prosperity 
 to a legend scarcely two centuries old. It is the vestibule of 
 Meshed, where the faithful spend a certain time in retreat, so to 
 speak, before entering the holy city. 
 
 The legend runs that the Imam Riza enjoined the Shiites not 
 to pass Kadamga without halting there. 
 
 When the Imam was on his way to Meshed, he was overcome 
 with fatigue when he reached the site of what is now Kadamga. 
 Seeing a stone handy, he sat down upon it, and this stone being, 
 like many human beings, discontented with its lot, confided its 
 troubles to the holy man as follows : — • 
 
 " No one is more to be pitied than I am. I receive no shade, 
 the sun scorches me, and does not give the rain from heaven time 
 to cool me. In winter I am frozen, I am alone and deserted. 
 Every one passes me by without vouchsafing me a look." 
 
 In short, it confided to the Imam all its troubles, in illustration 
 of the French saying, " Wretched as any stone," and so moved 
 him to compassion that he said — 
 
 " Be of good cheer ; you will have more honour paid to you
 
 From Bostan to Meshed. 149 
 
 than I have to myself. Two prayers shall be said to you, while 
 only one is offered me." 
 
 Having thus spoken, the Imam put his feet upon the stone, 
 which took the imprint of them like wax and has kept it ever 
 since. The Shah Suleiman afterwards had a mosque built for the 
 reception of this stone, and the pilgrims, going to and returning 
 from Meshed, come and rub their faces against it. 
 We could not do this, for we were infidels. 
 Upon leaving Kadamga — which, as may be guessed, means the 
 " imprint of the feet," — our route lay parallel with some low hills, 
 the spurs of which are intersected by the road, and at the foot of 
 which is a well-cultivated plain. To the south extends the grey 
 steppe. We are struck by the large number of towers which 
 stand about in the fields, and we find that they are towers of 
 refuge, built of stones and earth, eighteen or twenty feet high, 
 with small doors at their base. It is here that the natives took 
 refuge, like rabbits at the approach of a fox, when they saw any 
 Turkomans coming. They barricaded themselves in, and remained 
 quiet there till the storm had passed over. I pointed them out 
 to a man from Urmiah, who was travelling with us, and asked him 
 what they were used for. 
 " For nothing." 
 
 " How do you mean for nothing ? " 
 
 " Yes, for the last three years ; since the Russians have been 
 at Merv. You see that they are being allowed to go to ruin, and 
 that they are not repaired." 
 
 As a matter of fact, I can see that one or two have been pulled 
 down to make a dam ; a falcon is pluming itself on the piece of 
 wall which remains standing. Peace reigns supreme, and a child, 
 the sole keeper of a fiock of sheep, is lying down in the shade. 
 The sense of security is evidently complete. 
 
 Having halted at Faker-Daout, we start with the intention of
 
 I50 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 sleeping- at Sherifabad. Plenty of karys and rivulets of excellent 
 water supply the fortified villages which we see to the south of 
 the plain. The heights are covered by turrets, which from a 
 distance resemble the shafts of broken columns. These are the 
 sentry-boxes from which the inhabitants of neighbouring villages 
 mounted guard in turn, scanning the horizon from this vantage 
 ground. As soon as the black helmeted horsemen appeared, 
 mounted upon horses high on the leg like greyhounds, the sentinel 
 
 SHERIFABAD. 
 
 discharged his gun, and the other turrets repeated the signal. 
 The watchmen rushed down into the plain, with loud shouts ; 
 there was a panic in the whole district, every man flying for refuge, 
 one with his sheep and another with his goats ; while, if time 
 pressed, the whole of the stock was abandoned, for the Turkomans 
 preferred a brawny Persian to a sheep, as the former would fetch 
 a much better price. 
 
 According to our acquaintance from Urmiah, who spoke with- 
 out the sliehtest reserve about the cowardice of the Persians, more
 
 From Bostan to Meshed. 
 
 i=;i 
 
 than one clean sweep had been made of pilgrims in this region. 
 He said that he should never forget having hidden himself in a 
 karys many years ago when the Turkomans attacked the caravan 
 to which he was attached. 
 
 Pointing to a pass in the chain of mountains which rose to the 
 south-east, he said — 
 
 "It was from there that they swept down upon us at full 
 gallop, shouting, brandishing their swords over our heads, the 
 blades flashing in the sunlight. Their horses' hoofs made a 
 terrible clatter. All the caravan immediately broke up and fled." 
 
 " Were there many of you ? " 
 
 " About three hundred." 
 
 " And how many Turkomans were there ? " 
 
 " About fifty." 
 
 " Why did you not stand upon the defensive ? Were you not 
 armed ? " 
 
 " No one thought of resisting. More than half the caravan 
 was captured, and all the most valuable baggage. When the 
 Turkomans had disappeared, I came out of the karys, where several 
 others had also taken refuge. We gradually collected together 
 again, and when we got back to the waggons, we found the donkeys 
 grazing peaceably, while on the ground were the dead bodies 
 "gewn up in skins, which the pilgrims w^ere conveying for burial in 
 holy ground, as well as a number of old men whom the Turko- 
 mans had not thought it worth while to carry off." 
 
 We leave Sherifabad about seven o'clock, the heat being 
 intense, and we perspire in the company of a great number of 
 pilgrims, who mount the steep paths with the assured hope which 
 we unfortunately do not possess, that the fatigue of their body will 
 be compensated for by something tending to the salvation of the 
 soul. After many ascents and descents we at last reach a sort of 
 platform, from which may be dimly seen, amid the dust below, the
 
 152 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 hollow of a deep valley, with a wall of grey mountains in the dis- 
 tance. The holy city is looked for in this direction, but it con- 
 ceals itself from the gaze like the divinities of Olympus. 
 
 The van drivers slacken the pace of their horses. Sadik puts 
 his pipe in his pocket, and sets his kalpak straight on his head ; 
 he looks very serious. The mollahs assume an air of additional 
 piety ; and the numerous travellers on foot form into a compact 
 group. Suddenly the south-easterly wind tears asunder the veil 
 which has enveloped Meshed, carrying it off in a sudden gust, 
 and the domes of the mosques stand out, glittering like golden 
 helmets ; the minarets flank them on either side, like arrows ; 
 while beneath them is the mass of small square buildings in which 
 the population dwells, overtopped by wide-branching trees. 
 
 Our Tartars stop their vehicles. Abbas, who was in the first 
 one, bends his head in an attitude of deep devotion ; Sadik, whip 
 in hand, mumbles a prayer with his usual volubility, mixing up 
 the names of Allah and Ali. His prayer does not take him a 
 minute, and then he blows his nose with his fingers and fills his 
 pipe. Abbas is still bent in prayer, while the young mollahs jump 
 off the van to kneel down. Our man Amman does not eet down 
 so quickly as they do, but, like them, he places several stones one 
 upon the top of the other as an ex-voto ; but his devotion does 
 not go beyond that, and he leaves the crowd of pilgrims in white 
 turbans, who have gathered behind a seid in a green turban, to 
 invoke Allah, climbing back again to his waggon. The troop of 
 pilgrims, after having made great demonstrations of piety, begin 
 to move again, following the seid down the hill, marching with 
 very brisk steps and praying in a loud tone. Some of them appa- 
 rently are singing— out of joy, no doubt, at being in sight of the 
 holy city ; others raise their voices in plaintive accents — sobs of 
 grief accompanying their lamentations, excited probably at the 
 thought of the martyrdom of Ali. His name, repeated a thousand
 
 From Bostan to Meshed. 155 
 
 times over, punctuates this confused but noisy psalmody. Der- 
 vishes dance about like men possessed, one of them, who is now 
 all in rags, having been very well dressed when we first saw him 
 at Shahroud. 
 
 Despite all this noise, the Osmanli Hadji is asleep on the 
 boxes, and he must be tired out, for no one was so busy as he was 
 during the day in helping the vans out of the ruts, where the road 
 was bad, hanging on to the horses' heads when there was a steep 
 descent, and putting a shoulder to the wheel uphill. We do not 
 go beyond walking pace, the moUahs climbing up to the van again, 
 while on each side are numbers of pilgrims who make quite a din 
 in saying their prayers. Further on, the road becomes very much 
 better, and the horses are put into a gallop, but that does not 
 prevent the fleet-footed dervishes from keeping up with us to beg 
 for alms, entreatinq- the Mussulmans to eive them somethine. 
 But Sadik, just before so contrite, has his kalpak set jauntily on 
 one ear, and while the young mollahs pretend not to see the 
 dervishes, he gives them a piece of his mind and threatens them 
 with his whip, speaking to two of the poor pilgrims, who nearly 
 get run over, in such impolite terms about their mothers that the 
 people perched at the back of our van go into fits of laughter. 
 
 We are not long in reaching the walls of Meshed, which from 
 a distance looked rather well, but which, as is so often the case in 
 this world, did not come up to our expectations when we came 
 close to it. The first thing we see are a number of tombs, amid 
 which the road winds, and some of them are open, bones being 
 visible among fragments of shrouds. Cisterns have been sunk in 
 the middle of the cemetery, or more probably interments have 
 taken place around a cistern, and the inhabitants have continued 
 drinking the dirty and putrid water. The faces of the first people 
 we meet are very unhealthy looking, and no wonder, while the 
 passers-by generally do not look well.
 
 156 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 We make a considerable detour in order to reach the principal 
 street. When we have passed through the gate, after having 
 satisfied the police of our identity, we traverse the courtyard 
 of the palace occupied by the governor of the Khorassan, and 
 meet a string of prisoners with chains round their neck, among 
 them being several Turkomans, to be recognized by their head- 
 dress. We then come to a filthy and dark bazaar, the shop- 
 keepers in which have a sallow and underhand mien. We all 
 come to the conclusion that we were much better off in the 
 steppe, and how many a time afterwards did we repeat this opinion, 
 first formed on May 26, 1886. 
 
 We do not intend to remain long at Meshed. Pepin has not 
 yet recovered from his fall. Capus has only one arm cured, and 
 he cannot bend the other properly, so a few days' rest are indis- 
 pensable. In the meanwhile we organize our caravan and collect 
 the necessary information for the execution of our scheme, which 
 is to pass into Afghanistan by way of Guriane ; to descend to 
 Herat by the country of the Hazares ; to examine these peoples ; 
 to make some botanical collections ; and to reach Merv by the 
 Kuchk. 
 
 Unfortunately we have to do with diplomatists, who put every 
 kind of obstacle in our way. In one direction we meet with a 
 point-blank refusal, while in another we are put off with half-and- 
 half promises, which, I fear, are only intended to get rid of us. 
 
 We had leave to visit Meshed in detail, but the place has often 
 been described before. All I need say is that Meshed is a holy 
 city, which has been built around the tomb of Imam Riza, the 
 fifth descendant of Ali. From his sepulchre there diverge three 
 main streets, two of which are shaded by fine trees, planted at the 
 side of a ditch filled with dirty and unhealthy water, which runs 
 through the "best." The "best" at Meshed consists of a mass of 
 monuments, built in honour of the Imam Riza. and of shops and
 
 From Bostan to Meshed. 157 
 
 other establishments required for the sustenance of the pilgrims, 
 mollahs, refugees, and other people living within the enclosure. 
 No one has the right to enter unless he is a Shiite — an arrange- 
 ment which is very convenient for Shiite debtors, and very incon- 
 venient for Sunnite or European creditors. The finest mosque in 
 Meshed was built by Gohar-Shah, a descendant of Timour, and 
 not by a Persian prince. 
 
 The houses are built of mud, and are generally below the level 
 of the street. A great part of the town belongs to the keepers of 
 the sepulchre, the chief of whom is the most important personage 
 in the town. The pilgrimage is a pretext for trade, as in the 
 West during the Middle Ages, and the holy city is also a great 
 commercial depot. There are a great number of Russian Tartars, 
 and they sell a great many goods from their own country, which 
 come by way of the Caspian and Asterabad. The population of 
 Meshed has not a very high character for morality, and did not 
 strike us as being very favourably disposed towards infidels, 
 though one cannot look for much tolerance in cities of this kind.
 
 LEAVING MESHED. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FROM MESHED TO SAMARCAND. 
 
 Departure from Meshed — ^The Kchef — Vakouf and Shiite fanaticism — The scenery 
 more and more like Central Asia — A dream at Muzderane — The desert 
 — Daybreak — The heat — Persian Sarakhs— Russian Sarakhs — A modern 
 Cecrops— We engage Menas — Night stages in the desert — Nothing to drink — 
 The oasis — Merv — Meeting of two peoples — A nascent town — Still the 
 desert — The railway — What is thought of the Turkomans — The Russians — At 
 Samarcand for the sixth time — Projects. 
 
 We hired mules yesterday, and engaged as an attendant, in 
 addition to Amman, one of our late travelling companions, a native 
 of Urmiah, all being now ready for a start. By daybreak we are 
 all prepared, but our muleteers do not turn up, so we have to put 
 it off till the next day. 
 
 At last we got off, the mules, well loaded, being under the 
 charge of the men of Koum, who thoroughly understand their 
 business. Pepin is carried in a litter in order that he may have 
 time to get perfectly strong. When he gets to Merv, he will ride,
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. 159 
 
 or at Sarakhs if he feels well enough. Capus and I amble along 
 upon animals which we bought at Meshed. With what pleasure 
 we march out of the holy city ! When we get on to the caravan 
 road and look back, the golden domes again glitter in the sunlight, 
 and this dirty city has once more assumed its imposing aspect in 
 the distance. We see it, of course, from the east, inasmuch as we 
 are travelling in that direction. The dust is very deep, and we 
 have to swallow a certain quantity of it, thanks to a troop of 
 gipsies, who, mounted upon fine horses, are driving a number 
 of mules, donkeys, and goats, before them. They have bright, 
 burnished arms, but their clothes are extraordinarily dirty, while 
 their wives, old before their time, very ugly and impudent, march 
 along at a rapid pace, chattering in shrill tones all the time. The rear 
 is brought up by a rather pretty girl, decently clad, and she smiles 
 graciously to a hideous Tartar, who is paying her compliments. 
 
 The plain is cultivated, especially in the lower parts to the 
 north-east ; all the villages are fortified, and they belong, as we 
 are told, to the guardians of the sepulchre in Meshed, 
 
 The cultivated tract ends, and we are again in the steppe 
 when the road diverts from the Kchef, the ancient beds of which 
 are almost the only bits of cultivation. Our stage is a short one, 
 as first stages always are, and we halt at Karabuga, a vakouf 
 
 Before reaching this village, our attention is attracted by a 
 village in ruins, which is round in shape, like a dovecot, built of 
 brick, and completely abandoned. In a niche there are some 
 leaves of an old book, while a few butterflies are fluttering around 
 an owl perched upon the end of a cornice, which one would 
 imagine to be stuffed if his eyes did not blink now and then. The 
 owner of the place appears to be a ventriloquist, who excites the 
 public curiosity by his way of snoring from the inside of the under- 
 ground cell which he has had made, and in which he leads the life 
 of an anchorite.
 
 i6o 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 Karabuo^a is a vakouf of the Imam Riza, as we soon find out, 
 for Amman is expelled from the village, inside the gates of which 
 he had penetrated. He tells us that he was loaded with insults 
 when he asked if we could have a lodging ; and reproached for 
 taking service with infidels, which is regarded as an act of infamy 
 all round Meshed. While he is explaining all this to us, a number 
 of men swarm out of the fortress, like wasps which have been 
 disturbed come out of their nest ; and then a stream of people 
 began to bear down upon us, howling, gesticulating, brandishing 
 cudgels and making for Amman, who at once put a cartridge into 
 
 ALTERCATION AT KARABUGA. 
 
 his rifle. This precaution appeared to have its effect upon the 
 vanguard, for there was a brief halt, and this gave time for an 
 enormous young man, bare to the waist, to push his way to the 
 front. Amman brought his rifle to bear on this man, who was 
 armed with an enormous club, and whose face was convulsed with 
 the fury characteristic of the raging madman. But he had not 
 lost his head entirely, for he first hesitated and then drew back to 
 the edge of a ditch in his rear. Amman pushed him into it with 
 the muzzle of his rifle, and the man, though less furious in his 
 gestures, began to howl louder than before. As the crowd con- 
 tinued to show great excitement and to proffer threats and insults,
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. i6i 
 
 we come forward in order to rescue Amman and to distribute a 
 volley of blows with our whips among the crowd. The women, 
 who are behind, squall and dance about more than the men. Our 
 intervention brings about that of the mollahs of Karabuga, who 
 come forward in their white turbans and pronounce words of 
 peace. The populace disperses, but not without a great many 
 shouts and gestures of defiance. The scene is a very remarkable 
 one, and it is witnessed by a great many spectators grouped upon 
 the walls above. 
 
 We encamp near the river, the water of which is not per- 
 ceptibly salt, despite the saline efflorescences on the bank. We are 
 close to the path by which the men and women come down to the 
 river to fetch water, and we are masters of the situation, as this 
 will enable us to obtain from these fanatics the indispensable pro- 
 visions which they might otherwise refuse us. What a fuss they 
 make over a few pints of milk, which we only obtain after half an 
 hour's negotiation, and finally by using threats. And when 
 Amman hands to the vendor the few coins representing the value 
 of the milk, the latter says — 
 
 " Put them on the ground." 
 
 " Why ? " • 
 
 " Because I cannot touch the money which has been sullied by 
 the hand of an unclean man. And you are impure, for you serve 
 the infidels." 
 
 Thereupon the Persian put his foot on the coins and rubbed 
 them in the dust in order to remove their impurity ; after which 
 he picked them up. The same scene was enacted every time we 
 made a purchase. All this valley of the Kchef appears fertile, 
 and quite capable of feeding Meshed, as, in fact, it does. 
 
 After leaving Karabuga, the road follows the Kchef, and upon 
 reaching the point where the river has not room to spread itself 
 out, and has just managed to find its way between steep banks, 
 
 M
 
 1 62 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 there is a sudden cessation of cultivation. To the right and left 
 of that portion which can easily be irrigated extends the barren 
 steppe, and to fertilize the soil, which is very much above the 
 level of the water, would demand an amount of industry which is 
 not to be expected of people who have no great or pressing needs. 
 
 Upon the left bank, to the north-east, are fortified villages, 
 Avith watch-towers on the summits. Capus and myself, having 
 lost our way, meet some Tamuri men who are pasturing a large 
 flock of goats and sheep, with a great number of horses. They 
 speak Persian, and live beneath shelters consisting of pieces of felt 
 placed upon stakes driven into the ground. Upon returning west- 
 ward towards the Kchef, which we ought not to have quitted, we 
 meet several more of these Tamuri, and their dogs fly at our 
 horses and bite them in the hind legs. We reprimand their 
 owners, who only call them off when they see us beginning to 
 beat them. The excuse which one of them makes is a very good 
 one — 
 
 "Why should he not bite you ? He is a dog." 
 
 Evidently, in his opinion, dogs were made to bite. 
 
 We reach the village of Keichidar very thirst}', after nine 
 hours on horseback. Our baofeas^e has not arrived. We see 
 a number of idlers collected under the porch, and after having 
 duly saluted them, we ask for some skim milk, which we offer to 
 pay for. They tell us that we shall have it at once, but after 
 waiting a quarter of an hour, we see no signs of it. We ask 
 again, and are assured that " it is coming ; " but as, after waiting 
 another ten minutes, we do not get any, I take out my watch and 
 explain to the three principal men in the band that unless we 
 have the milk in less time than it takes to walk round the fortress 
 they will be punished. They at once give orders to that effect, 
 and there is a stir like that of an ant-heap upon which one has 
 trodden, the w'omen shouting, the children swarming upon the
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. 
 
 i6' 
 
 housetops. But the time appointed has lapsed, so the three men 
 whom we had picked out are flogged, and they at once bring us 
 such large bowls of milk that Capus and myself cannot empty 
 them, though our carriers who came up just at this moment, are 
 not long in doing so for us. We encamp in a field near the 
 village, and as our baggage no doubt raises us in the esteem of 
 the inhabitants, we are beset by the very same men who would 
 just before have left us to die of thirst, while the one who got the 
 worst beating comes to beg for presents and for medical remedies, 
 endeavouring to secure our sympathies. 
 
 — r- 
 
 ■■7 ; 
 
 ■■'■■-\ ■■):.-,,, '^A 
 
 
 ■•\'. " '' "^.' 
 
 
 A BUTCHER AT KEICHIDAR. 
 
 At Keichidar, we pass the night under too abundant a dew to 
 please us, for we sleep in the open air, leaving on the nth of 
 June for Muzderane. At first we follow the Kchef, and we are 
 at once struck by the similarity of aspect between this valley and 
 that of Tchotkal, which we had visited five years previously, to 
 the east of Tashkend and to the north of the Ferghana. We feel 
 that we are in Central Asia. We see the same terraces at the 
 foot of the hills streaked with sandy granite, the same schistose 
 soil crumbling away and peeling off in thin layers. Near the 
 water's edge are bushy rose-trees, while in the centre of the
 
 164 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 stream are islands with an abundance of thickets, willows, poplars, 
 and larches. There can be no doubt about this being the Arabo- 
 Caspian plain. There is geographical unity, but not that of the 
 people. The physiognomy of the ground and its nature do not 
 suffice to make up all these aggregates. A greater force of 
 agglutination is required ; and, moreover, these great deserts do 
 not form a bond of union between agglomerations of men. 
 
 We cross the Kchef near an abandoned fortress. It is quite 
 in ruins, and is no longer inhabited by warriors, but by pigeons 
 and partridges, which fly out of it at our approach. Having fol- 
 lowed for some distance the left bank of the Kchef, we bend to 
 the north, being still in the steppe, which is bounded by denuded 
 hills. We meet Turkomans, on their way to Meshed, driving 
 horses before them instead of Persians, as upon a previous occa- 
 sion. Suddenly we come in sight of green slopes, trees, and a 
 ruined castle ; and this is Muzderane, which is romantically 
 situated close to a fountain of excellent water. We sit down 
 beneath a willow-tree, and the mules enjoy the grass, while we 
 appreciate a cup of tea made with water which has not the salt 
 taste so noticeable since we left Meshed. A heavy storm of thunder 
 and lightning then comes on, accompanied by torrents of rain, 
 which swells our stream to a torrent in a trice and inundates us 
 in no time. But the sun soon shines out again, and the wind 
 drives the clouds over the mountains. I go up to the castle, 
 which was formerly closed by a thick door. This has now disap- 
 peared, and nothing is left standing but the walls. The fortress 
 seems to me to have always been short of water. It is commanded 
 from the east, and must always have been easy to capture. 
 
 It is built upon a promontory surrounded by ravines, except to 
 the east, where a narrow pathway winds between the stones. 
 From the top of the ramparts the view is, after the heavy storm 
 has left pools of water which glitter in the light, a very grand one.
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. 165 
 
 It seems as if a sea had been transformed into an undulating 
 desert, and had left pools of water in the depressions of the ground. 
 The horizon is bounded on all sides by lofty mountains. There 
 is no sign of life, though to the west a line of thick mist just above 
 the level of the soil, like the breath of an invisible being lying 
 outstretched, is faintly perceptible. This is the moisture rising 
 from the Kchef. 
 
 On descending from the fortress, I feel a sensation of expand- 
 ing and of softening, as a tow-line does when exposed to the sun. 
 
 
 
 kNCAMPMENT AT MUZDERANE. 
 
 Everything here seems so pleasant. Under my feet there is 
 abundance of grass for the animals, and the perspective of sour 
 milk ; the water is fresh, not salt ; the fortress is falling into ruin, 
 so that there is no fear of war, and life seems worth living. I hum 
 a tune as I approach the camp, my head full of these benevolent 
 fancies, and my eyes looking into vacancy. 
 
 I am called back to the realities of life by the imprecations of 
 one of our muleteers, who has suddenly gone off his head, and has 
 been biting a recalcitrant mule by the nose. 
 
 We had a very heavy dew to-night, and we were not sorry to
 
 1 66 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 warm ourselves by a good walk. So we started at daybreak, and,. 
 after climbing the stony road leading to the pass of Muzderane 
 and casting a last look at its wild scenery, descend towards the 
 valley of the Tedjene. We are still in a desert intersected by 
 hills, upon the highest of which herds of antelopes and gazelles 
 keep watch. At sight of us, they give the alarm, and the whole 
 troop of them trot off along the summits. Sometimes we come 
 upon them feeding in the valley, at a turn in the road, and it is 
 curious to see them bound off, disappearing in an instant. The 
 route is a monotonous one, with hills or crumbling rocks on each 
 side. Whole blocks have rolled down from the summit ; the crests 
 are jagged, and embankments have been formed by the continual 
 crumbling away of the soil. After a long march in the sun, we 
 halt at the foot of some rocks half-way down. Further below us 
 runs a river, which is almost lost amid the quantity of rose-trees 
 on its bank, in the branches of which thousands of birds are 
 chattering. The water is salt, but about an hour further on we 
 come to a tiny stream, the water of which is very passable, so 
 we fill our leathern bottles and flagons, water our mules and 
 horses and drink a good stoop ourselves, lying flat on our 
 stomachs, with the water laving our noses. 
 
 We were very thirsty, not having found a bit of shade except 
 that of the blocks of rock or the surface of the horses' bodies. 
 We shall send to fetch some more of this water at night, and our 
 men will not grumble at the job. 
 
 Three Turkomans then come and encamp near us, and they 
 are on their way to sell leather at Merv. For merchants, they 
 are very poorly clad, wearing a shirt and cotton drawers and a 
 frieze cloak full of holes. I had forgotten the tall head-gear, and 
 the coarse heavy boots with no heels. They water their horses, 
 and eat their evening meal, taking the precaution first to make 
 their horses sweat by galloping them for a short time. Their
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. 167 
 
 meal is extremely frugal, consisting solely of inferior tea, which 
 they sip out of a cup, each man taking the cup by turns. Seeing 
 me look at them, they ask me to join their banquet ; so I taste the 
 tea, which is made of half putrid water which has been shaken 
 about in a new leathern bottle which has not lost the taste of 
 grease. The Turkomans have stomachs like dromedaries, and 
 can digest anything. 
 
 By the time they have finished their tea it is seven o'clock, 
 when they stretch themselves out to sleep on the ground, so as 
 to be ready for a start at ten. They reckon upon travelling all 
 night, and arriving at Sarakhs at three o'clock — that is, just when 
 the sun is hottest. They will do all this long stage without 
 eating ; and their last meal, consisting of bread and rice, was 
 partaken of at Muzderane at eight in the morning. They show 
 us their empty wallets, so there can be no mistake about it. We 
 give them a little rice and some scraps of meat, which they seem 
 thoroughly to enjoy. 
 
 Is it not wonderful to find men going nearly thirty hours 
 without food ? and what fine soldiers they would make ! It is 
 true that we are in the middle of summer, which to a certain 
 extent accounts for their sobriety. 
 
 We start in the morning, following the stream beside which 
 we had encamped. The damp banks bear the footprints of 
 some feline animal like a panther, which has been attracted, 
 no doubt, by the antelopes and gazelles. Our stage comes to 
 an end when the river has ceased to be anything more than 
 a pool of stagnant and muddy water ; and as it is the last we 
 shall encounter before reaching the Tedjene, we take advantage 
 of the circumstance to let our horses graze and to water them while 
 the heat is still intense. The plain is not far off, and the steppe or 
 desert will extend all the way to Bokhara, beyond the Oxus, " like 
 a true carpet of gratitude," to use the favourite Persian phrase.
 
 i68 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 We pass the afternoon under the shade of a tent improvised 
 with our wraps, and the thermometer marks, about two o'clock, 
 95^ F. in the shade, but there is a refreshing wind blowing from 
 the north. 
 
 Before nightfall, we resume our journey. The herds of gazelles 
 are numerous, and some of them, comprising several hundred 
 head, stop a long way off, look at us, and then gallop off 
 over the hills, raising a cloud of dust in their flight, more rapid 
 than that of the wind. Then the night sets in very dark, and 
 
 
 AN EKCAMPMENT. 
 
 we advance silently in the steppe, no other sound being audible 
 save that of the crickets. Every now and again a shadow flits 
 by, w^ith a sound of branches brushed aside. This is a gazelle 
 which we have startled from its sleep, and which crushes the 
 tamaris under its feet as it jumps up. After midnight we stretch 
 ourselves out for a short time on the soil, but we soon jump up 
 with a start, fearing that we have overslept ourselves, and on we 
 go again. At last the pale dawn glides from beneath the sable 
 hangings of the night, and gradually rolls them up before us.
 
 From Meshed to Samarcaxd. 169 
 
 The plants on the steppe stand out hke trees, then the horizon 
 lights up, the sky is tinged with silver, and we revel in the pure 
 light of the first hour of the day, announcing the coming of the 
 sun, which suddenly shines out and effaces the deep obscurity 
 above more rapidly than fire consumes the thinnest gauze. 
 
 Things around us gradually recover their true proportions, and 
 as we proceed, we see cultivated land, straw huts, water in the 
 ditches, with men, women, and children moving about around 
 their dwellings. Near the Tedjene are a number of ruined 
 towers ; they are all about the same distance apart, and they were 
 at one time connected with the square fortress, with gaping walls, 
 from which emerges a white house, above which floats proudly 
 the Persian flag. We go through the fortress under the shadow 
 of the hovels clinging to it. A few soldiers are sitting about, and 
 they present anything but a brilliant appearance ; some of them 
 are cutting up a sheep, another is digging, while another is 
 coming in with a handful of grass. At the exit gate a sentinel 
 is whiling away the time, out of the sun, behind the shade of the 
 large gate made of thick planks. The other men on duty are 
 asleep, in their shirt sleeves, under the porch. 
 
 Upon the banks of the Tedjene we await the arrival of our 
 baggage, which is some way behind us. The waters of the 
 stream are turbulent and muddy, with a very rapid current. 
 There is an island in the middle of the stream, and on the 
 opposite bank we can see men in white blouses, who do not look 
 any bigger than children. The baggage is transferred to camels, 
 on account of the depth of the water. As it will take some time 
 to get it all off, I start upon a reconnoitring expedition, and 
 I notice on the Russian side the straw roofs of the hospital. 
 Close to the bank, further up the stream, to the south, are the 
 tents of the Cossacks, with their horses picketed close to the river. 
 A soldier tells me that the gorod (town) of Sarakhs is at the
 
 I 70 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 extremity of a dusty road going east. I follow this road, thinking, 
 as I go, of the route we have just travelled over, of Persia, so 
 devoid of unity, with her deserts and oases, and her population 
 devoid of all national spirit ; and I cannot help reflecting that the 
 Russians, whose empire begins again here, close to Herat, must 
 have said to themselves, after visiting this country, that it was 
 like a body without any soul, with neither the resolution nor the 
 power to offer any resistance to any one, and that it was at 
 the mercy of the first who chose to strike a decided blow. 
 
 About twenty minutes' walk from the hospital, to my left, is 
 a very large white tent, surmounted by a cross. This is the 
 temporary church, and outside stands a soldier on guard. Then 
 I come to the long row of huts, with a continual coming and 
 going of soldiers, from one of whom I inquire for the commander 
 of the garrison. He points out to me a white house to the right 
 of the road, at the corner of the principal street, which will soon 
 be lined with houses if the building goes on at the present rapid 
 rate. Turkomans are making bricks, pounding mortar, and doing 
 masonry work, in company with the Russian workmen, despite 
 the heat of the sun. 
 
 The commander of the garrison is Colonel Salza, who at 
 once offers us hospitality with a Russian cordiality all the 
 more charming after the Persian obsequiousness or fencing, 
 just as sweet water is all the more acceptable after the brackish 
 water of the pools in the steppe. It is arranged that we shall 
 make a brief halt at Sarakhs, and that to-morrow, after visiting an 
 interesting mosque on the right bank, we shall start for Merv. 
 
 The new town consists, at present, of two parallel streets, the 
 principal of which is named after its founder. Baron Salza, with 
 whom we have a very pleasant breakfast. While in Turkestan, 
 we have more than once found ourselves at table with the founders 
 of cities, and we have never had any reason to complain of these
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. 171 
 
 modern Cecrops. We had got It into our heads somehow that 
 the man who taught the Athenians how to cultivate the ohve, 
 after having bestowed a city upon them, was a rather disagreeable 
 sort of person, and concluding from the particular to the general, 
 we were inclined to take the same view of his imitators. This Is 
 what often happens to people who pore over books, and it is one 
 of the reasons why travel does one good. 
 
 At the end of this first main street, near the soldiers' huts, are 
 
 A 
 
 /'y 
 
 a number of shops below ground, half cellar half hut, which seem 
 to command plenty of custom. The articles sold there are those 
 which soldiers require for repairing their uniforms and keeping 
 them In order, as well as "vodka" and wine from the Caucasus. 
 The second street, which Is newer and narrower, Is Inhabited prin- 
 cipally by Armenians and officers. Here the shops are numerous, 
 but small, and among their contents are pyramids of tinned meats
 
 1/2 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 and sardine boxes, together with bottles of very curious shapes, 
 representing wild beasts, etc., and filled with liqueurs of various 
 strange kinds. There are no milliners' shops, but then there are 
 so few women. There are a few tailors sewing, by the aid of 
 machines in the doorway of their shanties. Thus it will be seen 
 that in newly founded towns, the first of things to be sold are 
 articles of food, drink, and clothing, and those which follow 
 immediately after are not articles of common use. When once he 
 has procured what is indispensable, man hankers after what will 
 amuse him as a rule, and this is easy to be obtained in most 
 cases. 
 
 From Sarakhs, we send a telegram to Askhabad to inform 
 General Kamaroff of our arrival and present our compliments 
 to him. While awaiting the reply, which will be equivalent to 
 permission to continue our journey, we go to see a mausoleum 
 which is said to be that of Cain, upon the right bank of the Ted- 
 jene. It is a monument presenting very few features of interest, 
 and it is in a very dilapitated condition. We spend the whole 
 day (the 13th) at Sarakhs, and have an opportunit}' of seeing the 
 troops at our leisure. They are a fine set of men, the battalion of 
 our host being particularly good. If they are as good at bottom 
 as their external appearance would lead one to suppose, they 
 would be capable of achieving great things under the command of 
 such officers as Baron Salza. 
 
 We engage a Turkoman who is to carry upon a camel two 
 barrels which the major of the hospital has lent us for storing our 
 water. We at the same time engage a man named Menas at 
 the suggestion of our host ; and Menas, though an Armenian, 
 cares more for adventure than for commerce, and does not set 
 much store by money, spending it as fast as he earns it. He 
 comes with us, without quite knowing where he is going, and 
 promises to follow us to the last. It seems that he has taken
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. 173 
 
 a fancy to us, for he makes up his mind at noon, at one o'clock he 
 sells his shop to a friend, and hands the deed of sale to the baron, 
 asking him to receive the money for him and give it to him upon 
 his return. An hour later, he comes to us with his bie Turkoman 
 horse and at once begins to assist in the preparations for a start. 
 Amman is to remain behind and go to Askhabad ; we do not 
 keep him because he does not suit us. The man from Urmiah, 
 who is a pretty good cook, but desperately lazy, will accompany us 
 as far as Merv. 
 
 Upon the evening of June i6th we start for Rukhabad, the 
 old Turkoman Sarakhs, where we are to get a supply of water 
 from the Tedjene, as there is none to be had between there and 
 Merv, a distance of eighty-five miles, and the heat is very great. 
 At Sarakhs, the thermometer had been as much as 123° F, in 
 the shade, and to-day it is 115° F. It is easy to imagine how 
 parched with thirst the most temperate of men must feel in such 
 heat as this. In addition to the two barrels, we fill a number of 
 leathern bottles and several gourds covered with felt which are 
 suspended to the saddle. 
 
 The chief of the town who has received us with the greatest 
 possible affability, joins Baron Salza and accompanies us a 
 little way. Before parting, Vv^e halt in the steppe and drink, to 
 our own health and that of our respective countries, a few 
 bottles of wine which the colonel's cossacks produce from their 
 knapsacks. . While we are drinking these toasts, a horseman, 
 whose figure looms very large in the mist, comes up at a trot. It 
 is the aged pope (or priest) of the battalion, who is returning from 
 his usual evening ride, being in the habit of taking a ten or twelve 
 mile ride before going to bed. He says that it is good both for 
 his horse and himself. 
 
 Upon the colonel asking him to drink to the health of the 
 Frenchman, he says : " The French and myself are very old
 
 174 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 acquaintances. I saw some of them in the Crimea, and very good 
 fellows they are." 
 
 The old priest carries his three score years and ten right gal- 
 lantly. His tall figure is not the least bent, though for the last 
 forty years he has seen many a battlefield. He wishes us a 
 pleasant journey and a safe return, and so we mount our horses 
 and, with many a God speed exchanged, ride off in the darkness. 
 
 At Rukhabad, we halt near the stream. The Russians had 
 originally made it their head-quarters, but the water is so bad that 
 they lost a great many soldiers. They accordingly moved their 
 camp and town to its present site. 
 
 Yesterday we lost our cook, and he was only brought back to 
 us at ten o'clock this morning. We shall not start till sunset, as 
 it is impossible to travel during the heat of the day, the ther- 
 mometer standing at 115° F. about two o'clock. 
 
 After a final cup of tea, we start about six p.m. The wind is 
 blowing from the N.W., the north wind coming from the chain 
 of the Kopet-Dagh. What thirsty work it is, even now that the 
 sun has gone down, and to make matters worse, the wind brings 
 to us — half asleep as we are — the murmur as of a waterfall. We 
 dream of fresh springs, and upon opening our eyes find ourselves 
 in the most arid of deserts. Rodents of various kinds dart across 
 the road like so many balls, and the crickets keep up their con- 
 stant cry, never seeming to get hoarse, though they have nothing 
 to drink. 
 
 At one o'clock we are obliged to halt. Men and horses 
 stretch themselves out on the sand, being alike eager to sleep. 
 The water in the gourds is boiled, and then the tea is got ready. 
 Menas and Pepin, who have not yet laid down, cannot drink it, 
 and I am the only one who does not throw up the cup he has 
 taken, but I cannot manage a second. I hear some one calling, 
 and about two hundred yards back I find our Turkoman standing
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. 175 
 
 beside his camel and the two barrels of water. One of the ropes 
 has broken, and the whole load has fallen to the eround. I hail 
 Menas, and the three of us manage, with great difficulty, to lift up 
 the two barrels, each of which holds nearly seventy gallons of 
 water. To-morrow, we shall not find a drop anywhere. The 
 Turkoman tells us our muleteers would not lend him any assist- 
 ance, and he indignantly denounces " those dogs of Persians." At 
 four o'clock we make a fresh start, and again we see the field mice 
 and other rodents, hear the joyful notes of the cricket, and feel the 
 scorching wind. When the sun rises, the rodents disappear and 
 the crickets are silent, while the larks greet the dawn with a hymn 
 shorter than usual, being displeased with the sun which burns like 
 a furnace as soon as it has got above the horizon. About nine 
 o'clock, we reach the smooth surface of a takir, which would make 
 a splendid course for velocipede races. A mirage bars the way, 
 and we fancy that we can see a numerous caravan moving along. 
 It is in reality our muleteers unloading the baggage. It is just 
 nine o'clock, and the wind has gone down as the sun rises higher. 
 
 We eat, and drink, and sleep till five p.m. under the shade of 
 our baggage. At two o'clock the thermometer stood at 104^ F., 
 at six o'clock only at 95 F. So, feeling comparatively cool, we 
 made an immediate start. We had been encamped near the 
 ruins of Kus-Khan, which consists of the remains of a cistern, 
 with a cupola, which has fallen in. 
 
 It was amusing to see the muleteers, who had refused to help 
 the Turkoman load the barrels, crying peccavi and entreating us 
 to give them water, which we could not refuse to do, for though 
 they did not deserve any, their mules would have been the sufferers. 
 At eleven p.m. we meet a flock of sheep, and get a drink of milk. 
 Then we meet some horsemen, who hail us in French. They are 
 headed by Lieutenant Dennissoff, who stops and drinks tea with 
 us, and talks to us about Teheran and Paris, where we find that
 
 176 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 we have mutual acquaintances. We are treated to some excellent 
 water, and part company at midnight, the lieutenant kindly 
 offering us the use of his lodgings at Merv, where he tells us that 
 we shall not find many. He tells us that at Tachrabad we shall 
 find that the waters of the Murgab have overflown the road. 
 
 About seven a.m. flocks of ducks, pigeons, eagles, falcons, and 
 partridges pass over our heads, and we see them alight in the 
 
 TURKOMAN AND HIS DONKEY. 
 
 low ground, where the water is, and we soon come to the ruins 
 of a caravansary near a pond covered with waterfowl, which were 
 drinking and washing themselves. We encamp upon the bank 
 of the aryk (canal) through which the water comes into this pond, 
 and having had a copious breakfast, we drink and then bathe. 
 The wind blows from the north-east, the birds disappear, the dust 
 rises in clouds, and the sand strikes us full in the face. This lasts 
 till five p.m., and the thermometer, in the shade and exposed to 
 the wind, stood at 105^ F. about midday, and never fell below
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. 177 
 
 100° F. We sleep with our heads under our cloaks, but still, 
 thanks to the excellent water, the day passes tolerably well. 
 
 About six we start for Merv, and at one a.m. we hear the 
 dogs of the aouls barking. The air is laden with fever, and we 
 are upon the edge of the oasis in the marshes formed by the 
 inundation of the Murgab. We fill our kumgane with an evil- 
 smelling water ; we light a fire with pieces of wood taken from a 
 partially demolished bridge, and take a brief rest, our horses 
 browsing on next to nothing. We wait the break of day before 
 resuming our journey, as we have been marching by guess- 
 work since Tachrabad, Menas not being able to remember the 
 direction. 
 
 At daybreak we can see a great many tents and plenty of 
 water. The oasis is well cultivated. The tents are erected in 
 rows upon the embankments raised above the canals. The 
 inhabitants wake up, and all of them — men, women, and children 
 — bathe, as do the cattle and horses. We see a great number of 
 them bent in prayer as we go along the dusty road. The sun is 
 again very fierce, and the air is heavy and moist. We pass a 
 great many arbas, camels loaded with bricks and forage ; while, 
 upon approaching the town, we see Turkomans busy brickmaklng. 
 The men are tall, bony, and thin ; they have a large straight nose, 
 thick lips, small eyes, the proud and leisurely carriage of warriors, 
 of men who do not regard work as an honourable thing. They 
 do not walk with a quick nervous tread, like labourers going out 
 to their day's work. We enter the city, which was concealed 
 from our view by a belt of trees. It is enveloped in dust, and 
 almost burnt up by the sun, and nothing but the smell of sulphur 
 Is wanting to make one fancy that one is close to the mouth of a 
 solfatare. 
 
 In this burning whirlwind one encounters an activity which is 
 quite bewildering when one has just emerged from the absolute 
 
 N
 
 178 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 solitude of the desert. One hears shouts and calls, orders being 
 given, and disputes of every kind, while all around waggons are 
 being loaded and unloaded, and building is going on ; Russian 
 masons, with their long hair, having as helpmates Turkomans in 
 linen drawers, or Tartars with their hair flattened over the temples. 
 In one place a zinc roof is being put up, in another foundations 
 are being dug out, and the men who are digging have a layer of 
 mud, diversified by streaks of sweat, upon their almost naked 
 bodies. There is quite a din of carpenters' hammers and pick- 
 axes, and building materials are being conveyed in all directions. 
 We pass a number of Turkomans, with sandals on their feet and 
 the pil (shovel) over their shoulder, while others are riding a 
 donkey or a horse, with the shovel thrust into their waistbelt like 
 a sword. These were men employed upon the railway. We 
 recognize Cossacks, Persians, Armenians, natives of Bokhara, and 
 well-dressed Jews with corkscrew ringlets down their cheeks and 
 fur-trimmed caps on their heads. Wherever we go we see people 
 drinking out of flagons or gourds, and everybody is in a sweat. 
 We are brought to a momentary stop by a block of vehicles, a fact 
 which seems very strange after so many miles travel in tlie open. 
 When one reflects that there were not, a dozen years ago, ten 
 tents on this spot, it is clear how great has been the inroad of one 
 people upon another. It seems as if there was a determination 
 to have a town built in spite of all obstacles and without a 
 moment's delay. 
 
 Two streets have been finished, and our lodgings are in one 
 of them, the servant of Lieutenant Dennissoff taking us in directly 
 he sees his master's letter ; for, though he cannot read, he recognizes 
 the hand, and that is enough for him. 
 
 These two streets run from east to west, starting from the 
 Murgab, the inundations of which have already demolished all the 
 houses built close to the left bank. The houses have only one
 
 \:: 
 
 "«''■■ .II..I.III.1II HIIIIIII.I illUil JilllllillHIIUlii, llllU..IIIII,l ,1,
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. i8i 
 
 story, with flat roofs, built of clay, and bricks from the old town 
 of Merv. They nearly all belong to Jews, who alone of the 
 natives accepted without hesitation the Russian dominion, and 
 set themselves to build without delay. They were, moreover, 
 almost the only men with any capital. 
 
 The dwellings are very hot, for we notice in the " old " part of 
 the town that the inhabitants are asleep on the footpath, In the 
 shade of the houses. A fat tailor, of Germanic aspect, has just 
 been woke up by the sun. He has nothing on but a pair of 
 drawers, and knocks with quite comical hurry at the closed door 
 of his house. A ferry leads to the right bank of the river, where 
 are built the barracks, and the church, with its sheet-iron roof and 
 its tower, much broader at the base than summit. Large houses, 
 intended for the heads of the army and the chief civil officials, are 
 in the course of construction. They are Russian in style, and 
 are built of bricks baked in the kilns, of which the smoke is seen 
 rising on the banks of the Murgab, upon which the combustible 
 used — brushwood and reeds — is floated on rafts. The conquerors 
 are evidently settling themselves in for good. 
 
 We think of making our way into Afghanistan by the valley 
 of Kuchk, Hearing that a Russian scientific mission is about to 
 start in the same direction, we let it go on in front of us, and we 
 soon learn that it has been unable to pass the frontier. We then 
 endeavour to obtain information as to the possibility of going by 
 Andkhoi direct, but we are unable to organize this expedition. 
 In the meanwhile, and with the heat still very great, we visit 
 Askhabad, where General Kamaroff receives us very cordially, and 
 shows us his recent numismatic and archaeological collections, 
 which we should much like to see in our museums. 
 
 We saw the Russians at work upon their railway, under the 
 energetic superintendence of the indefatigable General Annenkofif, 
 aided by engineers, among whom we find a compatriot in M.
 
 1 82 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 Lebrun, All my readers know b}^ the newspapers how rapidly 
 this railway was made, and, after seeing the Russians at work, we 
 were surprised at their great endurance. Upon the 14th of July, 
 
 TEKKE TURKOMAN KHAN. 
 
 the first train entered Merv station. The town had increased 
 wonderfully in a month, and a music-hall was already opened. 
 The inauguration of the railway was celebrated by banquets and
 
 
 J 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 '/ 
 
 
 is 5- iP 
 
 V f 
 
 SAUTHIAN REAPER-
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. 185 
 
 horse races, and all the Turkoman tribes had sent representatives 
 to take part in the rejoicings to which AHkhanoff had invited 
 them. He had first of all called upon them to submit to him, and 
 now he was acting as their administrator and riding at the head 
 of their troops. We joined in the rejoicings, and drank to the 
 continuation of the enterprise at the same table as our friends of 
 the previous day. 
 
 "-i" s^ua^^L-xi'ihL yj»iyitiw|K'M^ii« — ^j"f n ' --'^ '•jM^w^j ^4 'f' ■■ "' ^^^^ 
 
 .- , ._ ■ -.- 1... - -.w ' ■-:..-.-Ey- -^'!"K-<j-,-fc^i«r-*^'»-».-a-.yj»i.jE 
 
 YUSUF KHAN. 
 
 We will not attempt to give their names, as we might omit 
 some, and that would seem invidious. All we can say is, that we 
 received universal kindness at Merv, which we left on the evening 
 of July 22nd, after visiting the ruins of the ancient Mervs. 
 
 When these lines see the print, the railway will be open to 
 Samarcand, by way of Tchardjui and Bokhara. We went on 
 horseback, carrying our baggage on camels, in the heat of summer. 
 The journey was a most trying one, for we were obliged to travel
 
 i86 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 part of the day and all night. It was only when within a day's 
 march of Tchardjui that we found any water fit to drink, at a 
 place called Repetek. Upon the 25th of July, the thermometer 
 reached nearly 115 F. in the shade, and the whole time we were 
 scorched by a burning wind from the north. Several natives had 
 died of thirst in this district, and work had to be suspended. In 
 the night of July 26th, we lost ourselves in the sands, despite our 
 
 
 
 T .. f i'>^ 
 
 HOUSE AND TOMB AT SAMARCAND. 
 
 Turkoman guides, who were very well qualified for this work. 
 It is almost impossible to form an idea of the difficulty of crossing 
 a desert like this in the month of July, and no one can tell better 
 than we how invaluable the new railway will be. Upon the night 
 of August 13th, we reached Samarcand, after a halt at Tchardjui 
 and another at Bokhara. 
 
 I need not describe the route from Merv to Samarcand, as all 
 one has to do is to take a railway ticket at ?vlerv and get into 
 the train. If you are thirsty, you go to the restaurant car and
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. 
 
 189 
 
 order what you want. There is no need, now, for leathern bottles, 
 barrels, camels, and guides. This is better than it was in our 
 time, though I should be sorry to accept the situation of station- 
 master at the well of Utch-Hadji, even with the salary of a prime 
 minister, nor would Capus or Pepin be any the more ready to 
 take it. Our first stage finished at Samarcand, and we are once 
 more in Russia. 
 
 The Russians have established order in Turkestan first of all, 
 
 SARTHIAN WOMAN, 
 
 then in the Ferghana, and finally in Turkomania. Merv was 
 captured without a blow being struck, thanks to the strategy of 
 the chiefs of the province of Akkal. The Tekkes were made to 
 understand the might of the Russian empire ; they were won over 
 by good treatment and by presents opportunely distributed, their 
 khans being propitiated in this way. The troops of the Czar 
 took possession of the Maour of the ancients, and since their 
 arrival there have been no more Alamans, no more slaves sold,
 
 I go 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 and the Turkomans are gradually accustoming themselves to the 
 novel situation. The more turbulent among them form a sort of 
 militia, and those who were noted for their plundering propensities 
 are employed as guides and messengers. Many of them took 
 part in the struggles of Kuchk and Pendeh, and they now find 
 that they are treated like brave men, as they are led out to fight 
 side by side with their adversaries of yesterday, and against 
 
 
 ri': 
 
 
 f 
 
 A SARTHIAN THEATRE MANAGER. 
 
 whom ? Why, against their hereditary foes, the Afghans. It did 
 not take them long to see that of all the peoples surrounding 
 them, the Russian people is the best and most honest ; and as it 
 is also the strongest, and as it respects customs and prejudices, 
 and gives offence to no man, the Tekkes have taken the hand 
 which was held out to them, and do not look back with overmuch 
 regret to the past. The poor, however, of whom there are a
 
 •jl?"g<;^ 
 
 ■■C-Vi'^^Jfjsii. 
 
 
 
 STREET DERVISH.
 
 From Meshed to Samarcand. 193 
 
 great many, are discontented, as the raids of the Persians were 
 a means for them of balancing their budget, while now they are 
 reduced to profound distress, and are obliged to till the ground. 
 They want water, which the Russians will provide for them, as 
 they have already done seed when it ran short. As long as they 
 can get water, toleration, speedy, stern and equitable justice, and 
 have their taxes levied fairly, the people of Central Asia do not, 
 as a rule, ask for anything more than this, and the Turkomans, it 
 is to be hoped, will get what they so well deserve. 
 
 My readers will perhaps be surprised to hear me speaking of 
 men who traffic in human flesh as being worthy of ^esteem. But 
 such is nevertheless the truth. The European who leads a sedate 
 life, in the midst of a well-ordered society, in which there is no 
 lack of policemen and laws, who reads his newspaper after break- 
 fast, takes a long time deciding upon a coat with his tailor, and 
 who has been brought up in the idea that man is a highly respect- 
 able being whose happiness ought to be the aim of all his fellow- 
 men, naturally imagines that a Turkoman is of necessity ferocious, 
 sanguinary, and vile, that he is a wolf, and that the human beings 
 he sells are as inoffensive as sheep. 
 
 But the Russians will tell you that, with rare exceptions, the 
 Turkoman is gentle, affable, and hospitable, very frank, and true 
 to his word, while his victims are the most lying of men. They 
 can only be compared to the negroes of Senegal, who either serve 
 or combat the French troops so loyally. I could say much more 
 in favour of the Turkomans, who have been given a bad name, 
 which they do not deserve. They have the sterling qualities of 
 the Turkish race, than which none has been more calumniated, 
 and which merits better treatment. 
 
 The Turkomans are very much liked by all who know them, 
 and I hope that the Russians will set them a good example. 
 This is, I think, our fifth visit to Samarcand, and after sending off
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 our collections made .;. rouU. and some letters, we shall endeavour 
 to make our ^vay into Afghanistan and Kafiristan, and so to Ind.a^ 
 The reader, who has accompanied me so far, may at once be told 
 that our great wish is to reach India overland, and I will do my 
 best to interest him during the remainder of the journey.
 
 
 i*j». 
 
 I rt 
 
 iaa 1^1 ' I 
 
 i>.---jT- 
 
 
 S:.!?''-.*;/^iLa^^(^P^ ^^^^^^^'^^'^tei-^' l"^&:^^«^&»p|^MiE^'— 
 
 A BAZAAR SCENE IN SAMARCAND-. 
 
 CHAPTER Vli. 
 
 >■' 
 
 FROM SAMARCAND TO THE AMU. 
 
 Arrival at Samarcand — Projects as to Afghanistan — The departure — Story about 
 the fever at Yakabag — By the SanguirdAk to Hissar — Nomads at the close of 
 summer — The Lullis — Karatag, a story of the past — Cabulis becoming land- 
 owners—A new era — Agitation in the public mind — A claimant to the throne 5 
 his residence ; his fate — The valley of Kafirnagane. 
 
 We reached Samarcand this morning (August 1 2th). 
 
 We left Katti-Kurgane at midnight yesterday in a telega, into 
 which we all three managed to squeeze. Throughout the whole 
 night we were jolting over the deserted and duSty region which 
 precedes the rich oasis of Samarcand. And as true pleasure is 
 always the reward for some discomfort, before enjoying a cool 
 temperature while lolling in the shade by the brink of babbling 
 waters, we swallowed an enormous quantity of dust. 
 
 It is true that we had some compensation, the night being so 
 fine and so luminous, almost like day, that it did not demand a 
 great effort of imagination to fancy that the moon was gradually 
 becoming a sun. The dust which did not find its way into our
 
 196 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 throat, blocking it as sand does a river's mouth, undulated behind 
 us in immense columns and shone like silver. The landscape was 
 very grandiose but simple, with the plain, the moon, the vault of 
 heaven, and a profound calm brooding over the vast solitude 
 through which our telega took us. 
 
 By daybreak we had passed the first village, fed by the waters 
 of the Zerabchane, and, with the sun already scorching hot, met 
 on the dusty roads among the canals of the oasis, its rice fields and 
 its trees, the battalions of Russian sharpshooters returning from 
 the grand manoeuvres. They were marching with the supple and 
 measured tread of men accustomed to travel lono- distances. Then 
 Samarcand appeared to us enveloped in mist ; we passed through 
 the suburbs and were lost beneath the thick arcades of verdure in 
 the Russian quarter. 
 
 We found comfortable quarters in a straw hut, in the Botanical 
 Gardens, which are under the direction of one of our old acquaint- 
 ances. We remain at Samarcand just long enough to pack up 
 our numerous ethnographical collections, to complete them, and to 
 write our letters, then getting ready to continue our route — that is 
 to say, we long to discover some way of getting into Afghanistan. 
 
 The report of our arrival has got abroad in the city, and at the 
 hour of the siesta we received a visit from our former followers. 
 First of all there was that worthy fellow Klitch, neat as usual, 
 active and black-bearded, despite his advancing years ; then came 
 Abdu-Zair, obsequious as ever, and Rachmed, who had accom- 
 panied us during our last journey as far as Tiflis. He is delighted 
 to see us again, and kisses our hands with much emotion. When 
 I ask him if he will come with us, he says that he will send one 
 of his brothers to fetch a horse which he had left in the mountain, 
 and which will be just the thing for such a journey. He does not 
 ask what his wages are to be ; he has retained a pleasant recollec- 
 tion of his masters and will accompany them anywhere.
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 
 
 197 
 
 We tell him that we propose to go to India by way of Afghan- 
 istan, Kafiristan, and other inhospitable countries. 
 
 He says that he does not mind that as long as there are 
 tatnacha (festivals or amusing sights), and that his brother 
 shall eo and fetch the horse. After havino- drunk some tea with 
 Menas, he makes off. 
 
 Rachmed is known at Samarcand and enjoys a certain reputa- 
 tion in the djiguite circles. We commission him to recruit two or 
 three of them who have already 
 crossed the Amu and who will be 
 able to act as oruides in Afghan- 
 Turkestan. 
 
 Several come to see us, and we 
 offer them very high wages, quite 
 five times what they are in the 
 habit of getting. They hesitate, 
 and ask for time to consider the 
 matter, finally refusing on the ground 
 that they will be risking their lives, 
 that they know of many who have 
 been into the Afghan country 
 during the last few months, but 
 that they do not know of any who 
 have come back. " It is nice," they say, "to earn a good round 
 sum of money ; but it is not so nice to lose one's head." 
 
 So we shall have to be content with Menas and Rachmed in 
 the way of a regular army, and we shall recruit some irregulars on 
 the way for the conveyance of the baggage. In Asia, there is 
 never any lack of loafers and men with no occupation, who are 
 ready for anything, in the bazaars, and we shall be able to attach 
 them to our persons all the more easily because they are often on 
 point of starvation. Hunger draws the wolves out of the wood. 
 
 ^J!'-^. 
 
 OUR SERVANT MENAS MAKING UP HIS 
 MIND.
 
 igg Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 On the 13th of September we leave Samarcand in the evening, 
 and go to spend the night at Amman-Kutan, in the midst of 
 splendid plantations, due to the energy and perseverance of 
 General Karalkoff. This work, commenced during the lifetime 
 of General Kauffmann, and warmly encouraged by him, was inter- 
 rupted during the sway of the governor-generals who succeeded 
 him, and it is a great pity that such should have been the case. 
 There are now superb clumps of trees on the slopes where nothing 
 but rank grass formerly grew, and the flanks of the mountains, 
 before bared and denuded by streams which were not regulated in 
 their course, are now fertilized by fresh springs which the roots of 
 the trees so judiciously planted keep chiefly underground. The 
 site would be a delightful one for a sanatorium, which the Russians 
 might easily erect at the gates of Samarcand. 
 
 The next day we cross the pass of TachkaTvaratcha, with 
 which we are so familiar, and it is dark when we descend towards 
 Bokhara, the frontier of which is marked by the sky-line of the 
 chain of mountains. It is very difficult to advance in the dark, 
 for the steep path is full of loose stones or else crosses very 
 slippery rocks. Capus, who is trembling with ague, will not soon 
 forget this bit of road. On the 15th, we change horses at Chahr- 
 Sabz. 
 
 To-day (the i6th), we start for Yakabag, on the sides of the 
 mountain. Entering a valley, we see to the north, on our left, 
 the remains of a ruined fortress upon some knolls which compel 
 the river to make a bend at this point. The walls of the fortress 
 wound round the sides of the knoll which they formerly enclosed 
 and the extremity of which is now visible in the distance. A 
 flock of goats was browsing there, one of them being perched on 
 the top of the wall like a sentinel. Upon the left bank of the 
 river, facing this knoll, the village of Yakabag is built upon the 
 slope of a higher hill, and from the bottom of the ravine, the top
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 199 
 
 of a minaret, which ghtters as if covered with enamel, rises into the 
 sky. In the further distance, the mountains, shrouded in a sHght 
 mist, hft their heads, and Yakabag is very hke Granada in its way. 
 
 The water of the river is abundant and cool, and as our 
 baggage is a long way behind, we wait for it on the banks, ladling 
 out the water with our hands, and drinking as much to pass the 
 time as because we are thirsty. The more I see of Yakabag. the 
 more I think it like Granada, the plain we have crossed being as 
 fertile as the huerta of the Spaniards. 
 
 We see a horseman coming out from the town, and upon his 
 
 IK SIGHT OF YAKABAG. 
 
 getting up to us, he says that he has been sent to meet us by the 
 beg, who is -confined to his bed. He is very old and wrinkled, and 
 is riding a very poor horse. He asks us to follow him, and goes on 
 in front without saying a word. Another horseman is waiting for 
 us on the opposite side of the river. He salutes us, extends a 
 bony hand, bows, and without opening his lips, puts himself at the 
 head of the troop, stooping very much over his horse's neck. The 
 new-comer is yellower and more decrepit than the first horseman. 
 
 As we approach the village, we see cows, without any one to 
 look after them, grazing upon the slopes, and in the bazaar all the 
 shops are shut. Beneath a porch, a number of men crouching
 
 200 Through the Heart of Asia, 
 
 like animals on their haunches, with sallow and apathetic faces, 
 just cast up their eyes as we pass, but do not move. There is no 
 one in the streets, and no women peep through the half-open 
 doors, nor are there any children on the roofs. As the path 
 ascends, we see a medresse, but it has neither roof nor windows ; 
 there are no students in its courtyards, nor is the sonorous voice of 
 any mollah to be heard there. Pigeons are flying to and fro above 
 it, and a number of jackdaws have their home among its walls. 
 
 On reaching the platform in front of the fortress, we see no 
 sentinel at the gate, which is open, though two or three men, with 
 sombre and sunken faces, are standing about. There is evidently 
 a lack of soldiers, for there are more arms hanging from the walls 
 than there is any use for. The guns have no fuses, and the pointed 
 lances of the caraouls (watchmen) are covered with rust. 
 
 In the grand courtyard, the beg is standing upon a terrace, 
 supported by two of his servants, having left his bed in order to 
 greet his guests. He does so in a weak voice, and looks as if his 
 chin had scarcely the strength to bear his long white beard ; his 
 fingers are as thin as claws, and the skin is quite transparent. 
 He has a hooked nose, his skin is more wrinkled than that of a 
 mummy, and his cheeks as hollow as those of a corpse. His 
 frame trembles under his long pelisse, and the men who are 
 holding him up do not look to be much better. After giving us 
 a welcome, he is carried back to bed. 
 
 From the top of the ramparts the eye rests upon the delight- 
 fully verdant plain, winding among bare hills, which form a circle 
 around the fortress. This circle opens in a south-westerly direction 
 towards the plain where Chahr-Sabz develops the sombre mass 
 of its oases, preceded by green plantations dotted here and there 
 like outposts about a camp. The sky is purple, the mountains in 
 the horizon assume a violet hue, and the river at our feet runs red, 
 like blood.
 
 From Sam arc and to the Amu. 
 
 20I 
 
 There is no smoke to be seen issuing from the roofs of the 
 houses upon which we look down, and the only living beings to 
 be seen are a woman unloading a donkey, a picketed horse lying 
 down, and a man upon a housetop saying his prayers, as rigid as 
 a statue. No sound of life is audible. The walls of the fortress 
 have cracks which make it appear as if they might collapse at any 
 moment, while the nests of the storks, whose droppings have 
 spattered against the wall, are all deserted. Upon a level with 
 the eye, there is nothing visible but bare hills. 
 
 
 
 iJ- ;f,firiM'l 
 
 YAK ABAC. 
 
 We return to our chamber, situated between the main court- 
 yard and the garden, where some large plane-trees overhang the 
 stagnant water of the cistern. The 7nz'ra^'or {ma.stQr of the stables) 
 comes to see us, and he has only one eye and trembles all over ; 
 then comes the niirza (scribe), who complains of pains as he puts 
 his hands upon his stomach, his back, and his legs. He is accom- 
 panied by the youngest son of the beg, who takes a watch out of 
 his pocket, and asks us if its time corresponds with ours. There 
 is a very great difference, as we find. He explains to us how he
 
 202 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 puts on or puts back the hands, for he has some notions of astro- 
 nomy, and a table showing the rising and setting of the sun, com- 
 piled by Ulug-Beg, the great khan. We ask ourselves whether 
 perchance, we have fallen upon some enchanted palace, or whether 
 we have suddenly awakened the contemporaries of Ulug-Beg out 
 of their long sleep. 
 
 Every one asks us for some remedy, for every one is ailing. 
 An invisible mollah breaks the silence by a call to prayer — a brief 
 call, without an echo, mournful as a death song. Where can we 
 be ? It occurs to us to inspect the fortress, and we find that it is 
 inhabited. In the rooms which we thought to be empty, we see 
 lying about in odd corners, rolled up in pelisses or frieze cloaks, 
 human beings who are evidently alive, for the cloaks heave. Near 
 the kitchen, under a sort of shed, about twenty individuals of 
 various ages are stretched out full length or are crouched down, 
 gazing into vacancy. I come back into the room, and there is no 
 sound to be heard in the fortress, nothing but the fallinof of the 
 dead leaves from the plane-trees. Nothing can well be more 
 lugubrious. All of a sudden, there is a sound of slippers flopping 
 along the brick floor, and these slippers belong to a ragged and 
 ill-kempt boy, who has got a tray of bread-cakes on his head. 
 He is the baker to these corpse-like beings. One might fancy 
 that some evil deity had breathed corruption into the blood, and 
 had frozen the marrow of the inhabitants of an accursed palace. 
 
 Night comes on, and the tom-tom of the watchman resounding 
 at long intervals sounds like a funeral bell. 
 
 Is this all a dream ? Not so — the fact is, that during the 
 summer the village is evacuated. But an epidemic of fever has 
 occurred at Yakabag, and the sufferers from it have assembled in 
 the fortress, while the rest of the inhabitants have fled with their 
 flocks to the mountain. The fields are not cultivated, and the 
 town is as deserted and silent as a cemete:ry.

 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 205 
 
 This morning, with the sun shining brightly, flocks of crows 
 are croaking above the fortress, and below, a few human beings 
 are moving about near their dwellings, like insects attracted 
 out of their holes by the heat of the day. We are glad to leave 
 Yakabag, guided by the same old Uzbeg who had come out to 
 meet us yesterday. He is more communicative, perhaps because 
 we are going uphill, and so getting further away from the fever. 
 
 After leaving the gardens where the apricot-trees are very 
 numerous and the djedda fruit nearly ripe, we gossip together as 
 we ascend the valley. I question the aged Uzbeg. 
 
 " Do you belong to Yakabag ? " 
 
 "No; it is a miserable place." 
 
 " Where do you come from ? " 
 
 " From Baissonne, with the beg, in whose service I have been 
 all my life." 
 
 " Why did he leave Baissonne ? " 
 
 '■ Because the new emir sent thither his eldest brother, the 
 Toura of Kissar." 
 
 " Is that the toura who, according to custom, should have 
 been the emir ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Is it right that his younger brother should have taken his 
 place ? " 
 
 " No ; the custom handed down by one's ancestors ought to 
 be respected." 
 
 " Who helped the present emir ? " 
 
 " The Russians, it is said. Moreover, his father, before his 
 death, selected him as his successor." 
 
 "What do you think of the Russians interfering in the 
 matter ? " 
 
 " I think that the Russians have done a service to the country, 
 for at the death of an emir there are always a great many
 
 2o6 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 competitors, the different sons are never agreed, and Bokhara, 
 distracted by many pretenders, is always more or less convulsed." 
 
 Then the old man, who has had enough of questioning, cuts the 
 conversation short by saying that what God has done is well done. 
 
 In the evening we arrive at Kalta-Kul, situated to the north 
 of the valley, which runs east. We passed through severalvillages 
 inhabited by Uzbegs. The bed of the river, which is more than 
 half a mile broad, is partly cultivated, and there are rice-fields, 
 clover-fields, poplars and willows, with large herds of cattle in the 
 meadows. There are a great many Walnut-trees along the road- 
 way or around the cottages, while at Kalta-Kul, where the 
 fertility and the fever alike cease, at an altitude of about 4900 feet, 
 there is a large growth of grapes with very long berries, much 
 inferior, of course, to the Fontainebleau Chasselas. 
 
 The population is Uzbeg, and it is miserably poor, living in 
 much the same manner as the Tadjiks of Kohistan, to whom we 
 paid a visit when we were travelling in this region before. Like 
 the latter, they spend the summer in making preparations for the 
 winter. A similar state of things has imposed upon people of 
 a different race the same conditions of existence. It is in the 
 mountain more especially that one finds this to be the case ; it 
 would seem as if mountain-life shaped men in one mould. 
 
 Upon the i8th, we sleep at Tashkhurgan, at an altitude of 
 6550 feet, remarking that barley was grown almost up to this 
 altitude, though it was very short and thin. 
 
 Upon the 19th, after going over a pass about 13,000 feet high, 
 we arrive by very steep paths in the narrow valley of Sanguirdak, 
 the waters of which flow down into the Surkhane, and thus we 
 have crossed the Hissar chain. 
 
 Upon the 20th, after a rather colder night in the open than we 
 had bargained for, we rest in the village of Baktcka, which lies 
 hidden in a gorge and is inhabited by Tadjiks, who take fright at
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 207 
 
 our appearance and fly in all directions, leaving their dogs to 
 receive us with anything but hospitality. In the afternoon, we go 
 to encamp under the superb plane-trees of the village of Sanguir- 
 dak, on the public square, and while we are putting up our tents, 
 some gipsies who are encamped close by come to watch us, Pepin's 
 camp-stool exciting great merriment. Sanguirdak is a village 
 partly Uzbeg, partly Tadjik, a proof that the plain is not far off. 
 Upon the 21st, we descend to Dahana, an Uzbeg village con- 
 
 TASHKHURGAN. 
 
 taining a few Tadjiks. We wade the river several times, and we 
 notice smoke issuing from the flanks of the mountains, a number 
 of people inhabiting the grottoes, of which they have made their 
 summer dwellines. 
 
 On the 22nd, by way of the broadening valley of the Sanguirdak- 
 Darya, we reach the valley of the Surkhane, the approach to which 
 is indicated by the tall columns of smoke caused by the grass that 
 is being burnt. At Saridjui, we halt near the residence of the 
 chief, under a plane-tree which is about thirty-seven feet diameter 
 at six feet above the ground, and upon the banks of the river
 
 2o8 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 Tufalanque, the sonorous name of which signifies that it is wont 
 to swell suddenly and rush violently into the plain. Delicious 
 trout are cauMit in it. 
 
 Upon the 23rd, we quit this delightful spot and cross to the left 
 bank, where we find ourselves upon an elevated steppe. To the 
 north, the mountains are hidden in the clouds, with heavy rain 
 falling. As we come out into the plain we meet Uzbegs who are 
 following the same route as ourselves, but more slowly. They are 
 coming down from the lailag (summer encampments) on the 
 mountain, and are about to settle into the kichlak (winter encamp- 
 ments) of the valley, where they put up their tents between four 
 walls, as much sheltered from the wind as possible. They travel 
 in sets, each family forming a group, and some are poorer than 
 others, so that social inequalities exist even among the pastors. 
 
 The men ride on in front, driving the cattle, cows, and horses 
 before them. The eldest of their sons accompany them, and they 
 are all mounted, the poorer upon oxen, which have had a ring run 
 through their muzzle, with a cord passed through it to guide them 
 with. 
 
 The lambs, the goats, and the calves are under the charge of 
 the younger children, who are Mogul in appearance, like their 
 fathers, and whose cheeks are blue with the cold of these Sep- 
 tember nights. They are armed with long poles and shod with 
 loose boots or leather abarcas with the hair left on them. They 
 wear the cast-off clothes of their fathers, and these clothes, if 
 clothes they can be called, do not fit them, the sleeves, when 
 any remain, being tucked up, and the skirts doubled up and 
 tied with horsehair to the waist. Some go bareheaded and 
 others wear a tepe (conical cap) or turban which has never been 
 washed. 
 
 But they have regular teeth, as white as ivory, and their dark 
 chests stand out, looking sound and strong beneath their rags. If
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 
 
 209 
 
 they have not fine worldly prospects, Allah has vouchsafed them 
 the best of health. 
 
 They go quietly along, though they look rather startled when 
 they see our eyes fixed upon them, giving a cut of the whip to the 
 animals which lag behind, and whistling incessantly to their flock. 
 
 Further behind come the women, mounted on donkeys, the 
 oldest first, with the aspect of the dread Persicaa. A young 
 mother on foot, with an infant child, is holding on to an ox, 
 
 
 
 
 -"'' ""' ' '-^-^^^^S:': 
 
 ENCAMPMENT AT SARIDJUI. 
 
 which has a wounded goat tied on to its back, while the goat's 
 kid is in a bag placed on the back of a donkey, which a pretty 
 little girl about eight years old, with a wild and shy look, is riding. 
 Her mother is orivinof suck to a new-born child as she walks alonof. 
 We pass other Uzbegs who are better off, whose wives, nicely 
 dressed, are riding handsome horses and chatter like magpies. 
 Horsemen are driving before them troops of stallions, while 
 rough-haired dogs are keeping flocks of sheep together. They 
 raise a cloud of dust, and though the sky is overcast, the heat 
 
 p
 
 2IO Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 is very torrid. One would never think that it was the dread 
 of winter which was driving these people down into the plain. 
 
 But the swallows have been gone for some time, the storks 
 have deserted their nests and are no longer to be heard snapping 
 their beaks from the summit of the mosques, and summer is draw- 
 ing to a close. The autumn in these countries is very short, 
 and the pasturages where they encamped for the summer are 
 used up. This is the best proof that it is time to prepare for 
 winter. Moreover, the eagles are hovering over the valley and 
 preparing to start, though they need be less in a hurry to do so 
 than the other birds, for they are sure to light upon a dead horse, 
 a wounded kid, or a stray lamb bleating after its mother. 
 
 We turn to the left and skirt the spurs of the mountain, having 
 
 to our right the cultivated valley, with rice-fields watered by the 
 
 Surkhane, and we pass through an encampment of gipsies, who 
 
 are to be seen wherever one goes, and who all seem to have the 
 
 same occupations. These dwell beneath a very primitive shelter 
 
 of reeds and tents — two poles bearing up a piece of cord tied to 
 
 stakes, over which is stretched a piece of cloth. A number of 
 
 brown-skinned children, quite naked, are playing about. They 
 
 have a great many horses, which they clog, by putting an iron 
 
 chain round their forelegs, and they adopt this precaution because 
 
 the natives regard them as intruders and would not hesitate to 
 
 steal their horses if they wandered too far from the encampment. 
 
 The women, with their breasts wobbling as they go, are running 
 
 about to keep the cattle from straying, tapping them with poles 
 
 which they carry over their shoulders like rifles. They are 
 
 dressed without any regard for elegance, wearing a long linen 
 
 chemise, loose drawers, and a handkerchief tied at the back of the 
 
 head, with bare feet. This is the dress of the women of the 
 
 country, but in a very ncgligd style. 
 
 These Lullis make sieves and cradles, which they trim in very
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 211 
 
 bright colours. They are not at all unlike the natives, especially 
 the Tadjiks, and many of them have the same kind of eye, the 
 cornea touched with pigment, as among the Hindoos, while a few 
 have the small Uzbeg eye. Here, as in other places, the women 
 are not notable for their conjugal fidelity. 
 
 Upon approaching Rigar, the rice-fields are very numerous, 
 and the country is very rich, owing to an abundance of water. 
 Here we see painted thatch roofs, as in the Talich, upon the 
 
 shores of the Caspian Sea. We question the inhabitants as 
 under — 
 
 " Does it rain in this country ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Much ? " ■ ' 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You don't suffer from fever ? " 
 
 " Yes we do ; very much." 
 
 In Central Asia, as elsewhere, when one comes to a region 
 where the rainfall is heavy, the roofs are very steep ; here, more- 
 over, the rain, while contributing to the richness of the soil and of
 
 212 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 the inhabitants, also entails fever, which is the reverse of the 
 medal. 
 
 After a halt at Rigar, a large village peopled by Uzbegs and 
 Tadjiks, we trot along, as soon as we have left the cultivated district 
 behind us, upon a winding road which threads its way among the 
 chalk hills and reminds me of several deep roads in Champagne. 
 
 Karatag being at the entrance of a gorge in a valley, we pass 
 through a narrow defile which reminds Menas of a certain spot 
 
 "^>\> i 
 
 
 S'^'1=.J.^-^^ 
 
 near Zulficar, if not Zulficar itself, where the Russians had a 
 skirmish with the Afghans. And, by an association of ideas, 
 Menas begins to talk about fighting with Rachmed, both of them 
 being quite in harmony on this subject. They regard war as the 
 best thing in the world. But when they come to discuss courage, 
 they cease to be of one accord, for one has the ideas peculiar to 
 the Caucasus, the other those of the steppe. One has all the dash 
 of a western desperado ; the other the wariness of an eastern 
 adventurer.
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 213 
 
 Menas thinks a man ought never to run away, while Rachmed 
 is of opinion that, under certain circumstances, it may be the best 
 thing to do. A man should act in accordance with the object he 
 has in view and the forces at his disposal ; but, if he is compelled 
 to fight, he should exclaim " Allah Akbar ! " and die with sword 
 in hand. 
 
 They are agreed as to an incident in the campaign of Geok 
 Tepe related by Menas. It appears that the Turkomans would 
 try to steal the rifles of the Russian soldiers, and that sometimes 
 they would creep up to the place where they were piled and take 
 them from right under the noses of the sentinels. An old Turko- 
 man, worn out by age, ill and unable to fight, succeeded several 
 times in this difficult enterprise. Without any arms, dragging 
 himself along like a feeble old dog, he made his way into the 
 encampment, and waiting his opportunity with the patience of a 
 savage, motionless for hours at a time, he would secure the object 
 of his expedition, and, under cover of the darkness, glide noise- 
 lessly away. Whereupon, Menas remarks to his friend — 
 
 " Is that a batir (hero) } " 
 
 " Vallah, he is one." 
 
 So we reach the wooden bridge of Karatag, leading to the left 
 bank, where the village is built, partly in the valley, partly on the 
 side of the mountain. 
 
 At Karatag, we meet the Beg of Hissar, who has within the 
 last few days, succeeded the eldest brother of the present emir, 
 who has just made his submission and has retired to Baissonne. 
 From time immemorial, the Hissar district was, as it were, the 
 dauphiny of Bokhara, and it was there that the heir presumptive 
 to his father's throne learnt how to govern. Thus the beg, whose 
 guest we are, is the most powerful pasha in the country. He has 
 just returned from St. Petersburg, whither his master has sent him 
 to do homage to the new emperor and offer presents. He said
 
 214 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 that he took part in all the fetes there, and felt none the worse for 
 it, adding that they loaded him with gifts. But since his return. 
 
 THE BEG OF IIISSAR AND TARTAR BOY. 
 
 he has felt very unwell, and has suffered from pains in the stomach, 
 which Capus promises to relieve. 
 
 The beg tells us that he was present at the coronation of the 
 czar, and that the fetes were indescribably splendid. He had
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 215 
 
 seen the large bell at Moscow, as well as the palaces of St. Peters- 
 burg, and the opinion of one of his servitors is that the true shah 
 in shah is not the Persian sovereio^n, but the Russian czar — the 
 real king of kings. The beg, who has the reputation of being a 
 consummate diplomatist, takes care not to tell us his opinion about 
 Russia. 
 
 He is a very handsome man, with a beard dyed black, his 
 features are regular and delicate, and with his soft hand, on one 
 finger of which he wears a costly diamond, he makes just such 
 gestures as a cardinal would do, while his manners are most digni- 
 fied. He seems quite overcome with sorrow, and the high post 
 to which his master has elevated him does not console him for 
 the cruel blows which fate has dealt out to hini. He was proud 
 of his numerous family, but a contagious disease has carried off 
 all his children. 
 
 In three years he has lost twenty-two relatives. All he has 
 left is a boy four years old, upon whom he has concentrated all his 
 affection. He has brought back with him from St. Petersburg a 
 young Tartar, who had been page-boy in an hotel, and, dressing 
 him in Eastern attire, he has made him his interpreter and 
 familiar. This youth is very sharp and advanced for his age (13), 
 like most boys bred in large towns ; he has rather a poor opinion 
 of Bokhara, and a sovereign contempt for the natives. He says 
 that you must use the stick to them, and he accompanies us in all 
 our excursions, with a cudgel in his hand, which he lays freely 
 about him. He is very anxious that we should prolong our stay 
 at Karatag, and he says — 
 
 " Do stay on, and I will tell the beg to get up fetes in your 
 honour." 
 
 " It is quite impossible." 
 
 " What a pity you have to go ! I saw a good many French at 
 St. Petersburg, and I know a few words of your language. I
 
 2i6 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 shall learn more ; and if you were to remain, I should soon write 
 French." 
 
 " But will you not forget your Russian ? " 
 
 "No fear ! I copy out two pages every day, and I read 
 aloud. When I have had enough of it here, I shall leave. If 
 any attempt is made to keep me, I shall write to Samarcand. 
 Come and see the fortress. We will o-q through the bazaar." 
 
 " Do you mean the fortress on the right bank ? It is not 
 inhabited. What is there interesting there ? " 
 
 "What ! Don't you know that it was built in a night, by the 
 will of Allah, at the urgent entreaty of a saint ?" 
 
 So we go to have a look at this miraculous fortress, passing 
 through the bazaar, which is crowded with Uzbeg horsemen of the 
 Kungrad, Turuk, and Laka'i tribes. We also meet several 
 Tadjiks there. The trade done does not seem to be large, the 
 principal articles sold being Indian cotton stuffs, which the 
 natives say are very fast colours, though rather dear ; Russian 
 soap and cottons, English needles and thimbles, leaden toys 
 bought at Moscow, as well as small mills, which revolve when you 
 blow into them. The only French goods are small boxes con- 
 taining percussion caps, which appear to be of German make. 
 Among the products of the country sold in the bazaar are rice, 
 barley, wheat, sorghum, djiddas, grapes, and dried apricots. 
 There are several saddlers and blacksmiths, and a few potters, 
 who make dishes and vases of very pretty shape, and tastefully 
 coloured and enamelled. But there are more druggists than any- 
 thing else, among them being an Afghan and an inhabitant of 
 the Punjab, who has come by way of Cabul, the Khulm, the 
 Kulab, and Duchambe. This latter has not made a fortune by 
 wandering about, for he is miserably clad, and is only too eager 
 to return home. 
 
 Passing a wooden bridge, and turning to the right, the path is
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 
 
 217 
 
 steep, rocky, and winding, finally leading to the main gate, flanked 
 by tall towers and facing east. 
 
 The fortress is rectangular in shape, upon the border of a 
 ravine, with walls built of a mixture of clay and stone, the river 
 flowing below. At the angles rise square towers, slight in con- 
 struction as in Tuscany, and from these towers issue poles, which 
 look like emaciated arms, and beams which would be very handy 
 for hanging a man from. The tower in the left corner commands 
 
 
 & < 
 
 
 BAZAAR AND FORTRESS OF KARATAG. 
 
 the converging routes and the bridge which leads to the bazaar. 
 A large stone thrown down from the top would crush ten or 
 twelve of the shopkeepers in its progress. Above the porches 
 there are embrasures for the culverins and rifles, while on each 
 side of the entry are the guard-rooms, which are merely galleries 
 having in front of them a colonnade formed of split trunks of 
 trees, which bend beneath the weight and are cracked by age. 
 
 Passing over the ruins of a wall, we find on our right the state 
 rooms, looking on to a garden with a vast basin, formerly full of 
 water. The rooms are large, and they still have a few stucco
 
 2i8 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 decorations, with paintings of flowers and fruit in bright colours ; 
 upon the doors and in the panels are inscriptions forming very 
 elaborate arabesques, there being, in fact, all the traces of the 
 luxury of a great potentate. Contiguous to these rooms are 
 the more unpretending dwellings of the male servants, the coach- 
 houses, the sheds, the stables, and shelters large enough to lodge 
 a considerable number of warriors. 
 
 There are numerous signs of a violent and rapid destruction 
 having taken place, but of one which was interrupted and incom- 
 plete. The garden, being no longer watered, has lost all beauty and 
 freshness. The kitchen garden is choked with weeds and thorns. 
 The trees have been very badly used, for the branches have been 
 lopped off and the bark stripped from them. They are quite dead, 
 and their roots are sticking out of the ground. 
 
 To the left of the principal entrance, upon the southern side, 
 a narrow door leads from the garden to a corridor opening on to 
 the private residence of the potentate, which is separated from the 
 guard room by a passage between two high walls. The principal 
 room, the walls of which are still white, with a decorated ceiling, 
 is on the first floor. It overlooks all the southern part of the 
 fortress, having been so built as to afford an easy view of all that 
 was going on in the plain, upon the neighbouring heights, in the 
 village, and more especially in the harem. 
 
 The harem itself is formed of a garden and a number of small 
 courtyards connected with one another, around which are buildings 
 with balconies to them. The rooms were very numerous and 
 varied in size, and there were special rooms for the ablutions, 
 fumigations, preparation of ointments, and the thousand occupa- 
 tions which the keeping in order of the attire and ornaments of 
 rich and unemployed women in the East entail. 
 
 All this is falling into ruin, and no repairs are made. The 
 castle is accursed, and will never again be inhabited. It was the
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 219 
 
 theatre of bloody scenes which recall the bad days of our Middle 
 Ages, when the petty nobles fought against the king, whose equal 
 they had long been, and endeavoured, by means of the antagonism 
 of the provinces, to preserve their independence or to wring from 
 the suzerain new rights or dignities in exchange for a feigned 
 submission. 
 
 Thirty years ago, when the soldiers of the White Czar were 
 advancing slowly towards the east, through the Kirghiz steppe, 
 supplying the banks of the Sir- Darya with redoubts which marked 
 the route towards the rich oases, there lived at Karatag a chief 
 who was famous amonsf the Uzbeo^s, named Abdul-Kerim. He 
 had illustrious ancestors, great renown among the tribes of his 
 race, a taste for adventure, and a strong desire to amass a fortune. 
 He knew how to work upon a feeling of discontent ; he pointed 
 out how the emir despised the Uzbegs, though one himself, inas- 
 much as he conferred the high dignities upon Persians and 
 slaves bought from the Turkomans, and how, instead of surround- 
 ing himself with valorous and wise chiefs, he took counsel of his 
 worst enemies, the dogs of Iran, 
 
 When Abdul-Kerim found himself at the head of a considerable 
 group of partisans, and had collected arms and ammunition in the 
 fortress, of which he had repaired the walls and raised the towers, 
 he refused to pay the emir his taxes. 
 
 War soon commenced. First of all there were skirmishes and 
 razzias, with the burning of villages. Then the emir, exasperated 
 by this resistance, assembled a numerous army, won over the 
 Tadjiks in Karatag, and besieged the fortress. It was taken, 
 after a desperate resistance, and those who were able to escape 
 took refuge in the fastnesses of the Karateguin and the Darvasse. 
 
 The beg, covered with wounds, was captured and beheaded, 
 with a number of his followers. The native who accompanied us 
 said, " The emir, in order to strike terror into his enemies, had a
 
 2 20 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 thousand heads chopped off. The walls were thick with them, 
 and there was one in every embrasure. My father had his cut 
 off, and it was stuck up above the main gate. These heads 
 attracted the birds of prey, which fought for the pieces of flesh 
 torn from them, and the people of the valley trembled as they 
 heard their cries. The fortress was partially destroyed, and no 
 one was allowed to inhabit it. Moreover, the dyke which had 
 been erected higher up the stream to bring the water on to the 
 plateau was demolished. 
 
 " The beg appointed by the emir took up his abode on the left 
 bank of the river, very low down, where he resides among 
 his troops. No one has followed Abdul-Kerim's example since 
 this exemplary punishment, and Karatag is entirely subject to the 
 emir." 
 
 We descend towards the village, above which rises the smoke 
 of the fires which have been lio-hted to cook the evening meal. 
 There is a barking of dogs, a crowing of cocks, a braying of 
 donkeys, and a sound of hammers on the anvil, while the river 
 courses rapidly over the big stones, forming, as it were, demi- 
 globes of crystal. The landscape is quite idyllic, with nature so 
 perfectly calm, and the distance is full of soft tints, while the 
 outline of the mountains is very grand. These are not the stage 
 properties of a drama. The descendant of the rebel walks behind 
 us, with his hands at his back, taking care not to put his naked 
 feet on any pointed stones. He seems to be reflecting. 
 
 "You must know," he says, "that storks never build in the 
 ancient castle of Abdul-Kerim. They do not like sad scenes." 
 
 September 26 th. 
 By the hollow road going south-east through the chalk of the 
 furthest spurs of the mountain, we arrive at the valley where the 
 tents of the Lakai Uzbegs are dotted about. The harvest is
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 221 
 
 being completed, and they are threshing the corn close to open 
 silos, dug out in the upper part of the hills. The horses and oxen 
 are pacing round upon the threshing floor, and close beside the 
 grain is being winnowed by the simple process of throwing hand- 
 fuls of it into the air, the grain falling one way and the chaff 
 another. A little way further on, the straw is being piled up and 
 put into sacks for the cattle. 
 
 Upon arriving near Dchangab-Darya, the rice-fields begin 
 again. The natives have been late in harvesting, and the birds 
 in starting for a warmer country. As the table is a bountiful one, 
 they are in no hurry to leave it, and so they are enjoying them- 
 selves to their hearts' content, in spite of the stones which are 
 being thrown at them. We can hear, too, the whizzing of stones 
 from catapults which are aimed at them. 
 
 A small stream which crosses the road is salt, and we notice 
 a group of men ascending its course with very rapid steps. 
 They are carrying something on a stretcher, but, instead of going 
 as slowly as they can, like bearers of a dead body in the West, 
 they march at full speed, as if they were conveying some one, who 
 was very ill or had met with an accident, to the doctor's. They 
 go across the fields, and stumble in their hurry. They talk loudly, 
 as if they were quarrelling, and there is not the least trace of 
 sadness upon their faces. There are about ten of them, and they 
 are dressed as plainly as usual. The wind blows up the shroud 
 which covers the corpse, and the dead man's face is visible, with 
 a look of great calm upon it. In advance are several men with 
 poles, which will be used for forming a vault over the grave, and 
 behind comes an aged moUah, leaning upon a stick. He is either 
 less in a hurry or less alert, but he will arrive in time for the 
 prayer. 
 
 I am surprised at the careless way in which these men perform 
 an act for which with us the most indifferent display a semblance
 
 222 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 of grief, or at all events a respectful air of gravity. I ask 
 Rachmed how this is, and his answer is — 
 
 "With certain tribes of the Uzbegs — in his among others — it 
 is the custom for the men not to lament when they lose one of 
 their kin. He is buried without delay, and with no show of sorrow, 
 for death is a thing to be taken joyfully. None the less, the good 
 are regretted, though upon the day of their interment it is not 
 advisable to let this be seen." 
 
 "Why.^" 
 
 " It is the custom." 
 
 " I think, nevertheless, that you would have shed tears if you 
 had been present when your mother was buried. You were fond 
 of her ; for, before leaving her, when you started upon your 
 previous journey, you, who are the most careless of beings, gave 
 her some money, and sent her some after you had started. You 
 often speak to me of her." 
 
 " Yes, that is true. I like to speak of her, but I should not 
 have shed tears. That is all very well for women. Do men cry 
 in your country ? " 
 
 " Sometimes." 
 
 " Ah ! You have not the same customs. Each tribe has its 
 own ways. Here is Hissar. My brother has told me that from 
 a distance this fortress resembles Cabul." 
 
 Upon a double hill, rising out of the plain by itself, with 
 denuded slopes, stands a white fortress, girt by lofty crenulated 
 walls, and flanked with towers. The left part is higher than the 
 other, and the whole of it is of a very varied and picturesque 
 aspect, with a certain appearance of grandeur about it. 
 
 We were speaking of Cabul just now, and here to the left is 
 a regular encampment of Cabulis. There are about a hundred of 
 them — men, women, and children — living beneath some shelters 
 made of reeds, inside a network of trenches, which are crossed by
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 
 
 223 
 
 means of embankments. These poor people have been in the 
 country fcr five and twenty years. After having wandered about 
 like gipsies, for whom they might easily be taken, they have made 
 up their minds to settle down somewhere. The different families 
 scattered about in the country have come together in this free 
 spot, which the Toura of Hissar has given them. They began by 
 <iig§ii^§^ o^t an irrigating canal, which they sowed with rice and 
 melons. In course of time they surrounded their land with a 
 ditch, until they were able 
 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 k-^^' 
 
 • >?'••- 
 
 
 ' . ii- ' 
 
 f^'-^fflS 
 
 B^''- .''■■ji 
 
 l^^ 
 
 E^i^p 
 
 ^^^^T 
 
 
 
 ^^^i ^'■■ 
 
 .-. "-•»• 
 
 -"•■ 
 
 "^ 
 
 ,. .. 
 
 UZBEG. 
 
 
 
 to enclose it with walls ; and, 
 apportioning out the land, 
 they have cultivated it to the 
 best of their ability. Those 
 who are the most energetic, 
 or who have the largest 
 families, are already cultiva- 
 ting the land outside the 
 trench. These are the richer 
 and the more active mem- 
 bers of the tribe, over which 
 
 they exercise the authority which is derived from wealth and 
 resolution. They are far more advanced than the others, and 
 we find them busily at work erecting rectangular mud walls, in 
 which they have left an opening for a door. When a man 
 has a door which can be opened and shut at will, he has the 
 feeling of being a property owner. As soon as the walls of 
 the enclosure are higher, it will be easy for the owner to insert 
 into the corners poles which will be joined to other poles thrust 
 into the ground, and so the roof will be formed. An opening will 
 be made in it for the smoke, and the owner of the house will be 
 able to warm himself at his own fireside. 
 
 The Cabulis are quite cheerful over their work, and display
 
 224 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 a great deal of activity. They are, perhaps, making a shelter 
 to protect themselves from the winds of winter. The tribe will, 
 no doubt, crowd into it during the cold season, and the workmen 
 are cheered and stimulated in their task by the thought of the 
 snug quarters they are preparing for themselves. And this is 
 how the indolent acquire a taste for work, and how great cities 
 have been begun. 
 
 Some of the Cabulis come out to see us go by. They are of 
 the Afghan type, lean and tall, with very black eyes. The best- 
 dressed wear on their heads a turban, rolled Afghan fashion, 
 forming an angle in the middle of the forehead and coming down 
 very low over the ears on each side. They tell us that distress 
 has compelled them to leave their country, and with their exotic 
 appearance they give us the impression of being an advance 
 guard of India, the object of our dreams. They say that they 
 have not the least wish to cross the Amu asfain and eo back 
 to Afghanistan. 
 
 The natives regard them as gipsies, and call them sometimes 
 Cabuli, sometimes Moltani. In two or three generations these 
 immigrants will have Uzbeg blood in their veins ; they will have 
 undergone a complete change of habits, mode of dress, wants and 
 ideas, and their type will have become modified by contact with 
 the men and things about them. In course of time, perhaps, 
 nothing will remain but some nickname as a souvenir of their 
 origin. 
 
 Before reaching Hissar, we meet some fat Uzbegs, mounted 
 on strong horses. They are short, and resemble not a little the 
 Kirghiz of Tian-Chan. Like them, they are very big-boned, have 
 large faces and prominent cheekbones ; but they are bigger limbed, 
 and have, perhaps, eyes which are not quite so small. Altogether, 
 they have much the same Turko- Mongol or Mongol-Turkish 
 appearance.
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 
 
 225 
 
 The approach to Hissar is through some marshes teeming 
 with excellent snipe and woodcock. The first thing which strikes 
 us is the appearance of the dwellings. They do not look as if 
 they belonged to Central Asia, for they have steep thatch roofs, 
 instead of the flat roofs seen on the other side of the mountains, 
 and on the banks of the Amu. This gives you the impres- 
 sion of quite a different kind of civilization. There is a good 
 deal of rain in this remon, and that is the cause of the marked 
 
 •^-ir^- 
 
 
 FORTRESS OF HISSAR, AS SEEN FROM THE SUMMER GARDEN. 
 
 change which may be observed on reaching Rigar. This is yet 
 another incident of the journey which reminds us of rainy India. 
 
 The inhabitants of the town, or of the village, as it should 
 rather be called, are none the better for this, as they are very 
 yellow and sickly looking, being eaten up by fever. 
 
 We find quarters at the foot of the fortress, in a beautiful 
 garden, watered by a stream, and possessing the tomb of a saint, 
 hidden in the foliage of willows and poplars on the side of 
 
 the hill. 
 
 Q
 
 2 26 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 We are told — what, as a matter of fact, we knew before — that 
 the fortress is empty ; that the toura who inhabited it had gone 
 to Baissonne, which his brother the emir had assigned him as 
 a residence. There are a few men in charge of the dwelUng, 
 where the beg, now at Karatag, will shortly take up his residence. 
 We ask if we may visit the fortress, and the gardener promises to 
 show us over the whole of it to-morrow. 
 
 September 27 th, 
 
 On waking up, we find the village in a very animated state, 
 for this is bazaar day. Although there are not more than two 
 thousand people here, the population is very mixed indeed. W^e 
 recognize the heavy type of the thickset Uzbeg, the lithe Afghan, 
 the hatchet-faced Arab ; and, among the Lullis, who sell snuff 
 and tobacco, the eye overcharged with pigment of the inhabitants 
 of the hot plains of India. 
 
 This is because Hissar is situated at the head of two valleys, 
 so to speak — that of Surkhane and that of Kafirnagane — and at 
 the junction of the road taken by those who, for reasons of their 
 own, cross the northern mountains, either by the Sanguirdak, or 
 by Fan, or who are flying from Afghanistan or India. The 
 latter reach Hissar, after having crossed the Amu, by the valleys 
 of the Surkhane and of Kafirnagane, or by making a wide circuit 
 over the mountains of Badakshan or Kulab. For at Hissar, up 
 to the present time, fugitives were almost sure of finding an 
 asylum, with help and a kindly greeting, from the second personage 
 of Bokhara, the heir-presumptive to the dominions of the emir. 
 He was in opposition to his father, whom he accused of having 
 ruined his dominions by not leaning for support upon the sym- 
 pathies of the men of his race. These views won for him the 
 attachment of the neighbouring Uzbeg tribes, w^hich clung to the 
 ancient traditions, took pride in the great deeds done by their
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 227 
 
 forefathers, and nourished a hope, perhaps, that a struggle against 
 Russia might have a chance of succeeding. These worthy people, 
 quite ignorant as to modern military science, imagined that 
 courage and devotion might overcome the discipline and strategy 
 of the West. Some of them at Hissar refused to accept as an 
 accomplished fact what at Bokhara was now regarded as a matter 
 of course. The toura was not on good terms with the court, and 
 gave a cordial greeting to the discontented of all countries, as lono- 
 as they were outspoken in their approval of him, and flattered 
 him to the top of his bent. The fact of people putting themselves 
 under his protection gave him an exaggerated idea of his power 
 and flattered his vanity. 
 
 Many touras have played a similar part at Hissar, which has 
 a very interesting past. It has seen all the different conquerors 
 of Central Asia ; and the Arabs seized it as a preliminary to 
 bringing Turkestan into regular subjection. Conquerors, refugees, 
 and slaves have, one after another, shed some of their blood 
 there ; and the inhabitants of the hovels at the foot of the fortress 
 have no marked type. Crossing has not improved them, and the 
 common people are decrepit. 
 
 Apart from the cereals and the native products, there are few 
 goods to be found at the stalls ; the customers consisting of 
 Uzbegs, who are not at all accustomed to luxury. We see, 
 however, percussion caps from Linden, near Hanover ; handker- 
 chiefs, calico, needles, and matches, from Russia ; English calico 
 from India, and buttons from I don't know where, with a French 
 trade-mark on them. Some hadjis have brought back from 
 Stamboul a number of small bits of copper like medals, with 
 which ornaments for women are made. There does not, at first 
 sight, seem to be much business done. The Uzbegs have come 
 to spend a few minutes at the bazaar, and they gossip as they 
 kneel before some mutton or horseflesh on the spit. They
 
 228 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 discuss recent events, the departure of the toura, the new emir, 
 the Russians, and more especially the English, who are just now 
 in the neighbourhood of Andkhoi, with brown-skinned soldiers, 
 riding very small horses. They are said by the dervishes, who 
 have seen them, to be countless in numbers, so there can be no 
 doubt about it, and these troops must foreshadow war. 
 
 This refers to the British Boundary Commission, the escort of 
 which consists, in reality, of from seventy to eighty soldiers. 
 People exaggerate in the East beyond all conception, out of sheer 
 laziness, the mind not feeling any craving for exactitude. The 
 railway which the Russians are making, which has been opened 
 
 
 at Merv, and which will cross the Amu, is the subject of much 
 conversation, and more than one of them shakes his head with an 
 air of doubt when he is told that the Russians will throw a bridge 
 over the Amu, and that "the devil's carriages" will go as far as 
 Samarcand. The old men, who have passed all their lives in 
 Hissar, and who have never crossed the mountains, will return to 
 their tents with the conviction that the end of the world is at 
 hand. It Is the end of the Uzbeg world, and it will be the 
 beginning of its transformation, or rather of its modification. 
 Peoples change but little In reality ; but when they are placed in 
 novel circumstances, they make a different use of their race 
 qualities. Because they act differently, It Is erroneously concluded 
 that they have been transformed. We French have changed very
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 
 
 229 
 
 little, despite centuries of defeats, victories and upheavals — despite 
 centuries of action in brief. 
 
 Thus, the inhabitants of Central Asia were for a long time 
 asleep ; those of the oases found an employment for their aptitudes 
 for petty commerce, cultivation of small holdings, and hoarding ; 
 those of the steppe, the nomads of Turkish blood, the descendants 
 of those who had caused the West to tremble, no longer had any 
 outlet for their courage and their spirit of discipline, as there was 
 no chief to lead or marshal them. The cannon of Russia and the 
 whistle of her engines have 
 roused them from this torpor. 
 At the present moment their 
 brains are as agitated as 
 those of our forefathers may 
 have been by the discovery 
 of America. They feel that 
 a new era is opening for 
 them. They are surprised 
 at finding that this mass, 
 
 which they had seen for some time hanging over their heads, 
 has at last fallen to the ground. They feel themselves 
 hemmed in and cornered by an invincible force, and, taking 
 a correct measure of their weakness, they wonder what is 
 going to happen next. They are not over-anxious as to the 
 future which the Russians have in store for them, as the Russians 
 are the masters, and their engineers do as they please with the 
 lands of the emir, who is powerless to prevent them. Moreover, 
 they have for some time regarded themselves as having no emir, 
 nor have they made common cause with him, because he has not 
 followed the advice of the Uzbeg chiefs, but has submitted to the 
 influence of foreign servitors, and especially of Persians. And 
 then the Russians have by no means a bad reputation. It is said 
 
 GATE OF THE INNER FORTRESS.
 
 230 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 that they are affable and full of courage, and that they do not 
 molest anyone; so the Uzbegs have resigned themselves to the 
 position, and are ready to pay their tribute to the "White Pasha." 
 Henceforth, they will gravitate in the orbit of Russia, who will 
 perhaps utilize their good qualities and common sense. Whatever 
 happens, they will not be inactive, for the planet, whose satellites 
 they have become, is not on the point of extinction, and is far 
 from having completed its course. 
 
 We pay a visit to the fortress. An old servant of the toura 
 acts as guide, and explains what he is showing us. We ask him 
 if he has served long, and he replies — 
 
 " Yes ; fourteen years." 
 
 "Why did you leave him? Why did you not share his 
 fortunes ? " 
 
 " Some retainers of the new beg came to see me and advised 
 me to stay here. They said, ' Do not go to Baissonne ; the toura 
 has not paid you your wages for many years, whereas the beg will 
 let you have them regularly. By following the toura, you risk 
 being arrested like him and having your head cut off ! ' That 
 is why I have remained here." 
 
 "Is it true that he meditated making war on the Emir of 
 Bokhara ? " 
 
 "Yes, it is. This room where we are was full of rifles; he had 
 over two thousand, with a lot of powder and bullets." 
 
 " Was he a kind man ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but his advisers Avere the ruin of him." 
 
 The Touradjane of Hissar is the second son of the Emir 
 Mozaffer-Eddin, who at his death selected as his successor his 
 third son, the reigning emir. According to the usual custom, the 
 chief of the Hissar, being the eldest, should have succeeded his 
 father. But the deceased ruler had willed it otherwise and had 
 taken measures for the Russians to ensure the execution of his
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 
 
 231 
 
 will. It is said that his favourite son has more intelligence than 
 the eldest one, and that he gave proof in several circumstances 
 of great tact in governing his principality. But his brother was 
 not at all pleased at being passed over, and the latter's cntotcrage, 
 which had been reckoning upon his accession to power, urged him 
 to let his discontent take active shape. 
 
 The touradjane had remained upon intimate terms with 
 another brother called 
 the Katta-toura, who 
 was the firstborn, and 
 who had attempted to 
 dethrone his father fif- 
 teen years before, taking 
 refuge in India upon the 
 failure of his attempt. 
 The Katta-toura had 
 written to his brother 
 urging him to raise the 
 standard of revolt and 
 making him promises 
 which he has only very 
 partially kept. The as- 
 sistance of the Enoflish 
 was probably promised 
 the Toura of Hissar, not 
 perhaps very distinctly, 
 but enough to confirm a 
 discontented man in his intentions. So he collected arms and 
 ammunition, assembled troops and excited the Uzbeg tribes to 
 war, preparing for a rising. 
 
 But in the meanwhile the emir was kept informed of all these 
 goings-on, and sent emissaries to his brother, urging him to abate 
 
 fr' 
 
 :>. 
 
 \x^ 
 
 
 THE EMIR OF BOKHARA 

 
 232 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 his anger and accept compensation. The negotiations went on 
 for some time, and the toiira held out as long as he based any 
 hopes upon the Government of India sending black-bearded 
 warriors to fight for him. But when he was tired of scanning the 
 diplomatic horizon in vain, he bowed his head before his brother, 
 came to as amicable an arrangement as is possible in these 
 countries, disbanded his troops and pacified his followers, thinking 
 only of securing his treasures, his family, and his person. 
 
 It is said that he is very rich, so rich that he would have got 
 away already but for the countless bags of tangas which he has 
 stored up in a vast room near the harem. His wealth kept him 
 back, and the love of money proved stronger than that of tran- 
 quillity. It seems that in attempting to preserve one, he ran 
 a orreat risk of losincr both. 
 
 He has ten wives and a great many children, but of the large 
 body of servants and retainers which he had about him only a few 
 devoted followers remain, and he left for Baissonne without any 
 pomp or ceremony, taking with him his treasures as well as a 
 chain riveted to his foot. He has not had all his arms taken from 
 him, as no fear is felt of any one being tempted to brandish them 
 in his cause ; while he himself has lost all ambition. 
 
 I can say nothing as to what sort of a place Baissonne is, but 
 the residence of Hissar is not unworthy of a great Bokhara prince. 
 We spent the day making a sketch, which we cannot give here. 
 We went through all the rooms, and inspected every portion of 
 the harem. The house bore the mark of having been recently 
 inhabited, preserving the odour of its master, so to speak. In all 
 directions were signs of a recent move, and this was a great piece 
 of luck for us, as the houses of Asiatic potentates are closed to 
 every one, especially to infidels. 
 
 Thanks to the explanations of the toura's old servants, our 
 imagination was enabled to people the dwelling with its former 
 inhabitants.
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 
 
 233 
 
 " This," we were told, " was where the toura Hked to sit ; from 
 this gallery he could see without being seen. 
 
 " Close by is the table at which he entertained his intimate 
 friends and transacted his business. You see below towers on 
 each side of the large gateway ; they were used as prisons. The 
 towers are connected by a platform above the porch, with a balus- 
 trade against which the toura leant to watch the wrestlers on the 
 bazaar square. 
 
 " This is the room in which he performed his ablutions before 
 the prayers which he recited in this small chapel. Here is the 
 
 ENTRANXE OF PALACE. 
 
 passage through which he went to the harem, and this door leads 
 to the grand reception room adjoining the chancellery, which is 
 contiguous to the mosque and the treasury. 
 
 " Here is the bath ; after taking it, he rested in this room upon 
 a divan, sometimes in very pleasant company. 
 
 " All this square block of buildings was occupied by the 
 women ; the seamstresses on this side, and the servants on the 
 other. This large room decorated with paintings was last week 
 rich with carpets and cushions. This was where the toura's 
 wives assembled when they were expecting a visit from the 
 master; they were arrayed in their finest dresses, loaded with
 
 234 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 glittering jewellery, their faces painted and their bodies cunningly 
 perfumed. A passage leads from there to a room of which you 
 can see the door made of double trellis-work ; it was reserved for 
 the toura's favourite." 
 
 " Did he ever change favourites ? " 
 
 " Sometimes. And as the toura liked to have a quiet home, 
 he inflicted severe punishment upon the wives who were dis- 
 obedient." 
 
 " How w^ere they punished ?" 
 
 " He had them floofo-ed, and then confined in the narrow cell 
 
 which you see between the 
 
 kitchens and the fine room 
 we are in now." 
 
 The ladies' prison is 
 close to the favourite's 
 boudoir, just as the Tar- 
 peian Rock is to the Capitol. 
 Questioning first one 
 and then the other, we had 
 a good look at the palace, 
 which comprises a school, 
 workshops of every kind, 
 and all the buildings to be 
 found in a small Asiatic 
 town, for the fortress was a regular town. It was also a strong 
 fortress, and below, opposite the dwelling of the chief, to the left of 
 the principal entrance, there are buildings which serve as barracks, 
 arsenal, and bakehouse. There is, besides, a whole village within 
 the walls, which seem to have been added during some period of 
 war or intestine troubles. These walls embrace an immense space 
 of ground to the west, the whole gentle slope of the hill, which 
 is very steep on the other side. A good many huts are still 
 
 INTERIOR OF A ROOM IN THE HAREM.
 
 
 -% 
 
 .!K^ 
 
 tS'*', 
 
 -K»?
 
 Fkom Samarcand to the Amu. 237 
 
 standing, there are a good many meadows with cisterns in the 
 middle, and a small stream of water trickles out from a spring. 
 This piece of ground was available for the accommodation of 
 auxiliary troops, and for picketing many horses, while from the 
 higher ground an eye could be kept upon these troops in case of 
 there being any doubts as to their proving true. It was here, 
 also, that the wives of the soldiers in the garrison lived, and they 
 could, if they felt so inclined, cultivate some of the patches of 
 ground and grow melons for their husbands. 
 
 I have said more about this curious group of dwellings than 
 I had intended, and I shall recur to this very interesting subject, 
 for we were so fortunate as to be able to examine very closely 
 what is perhaps the most perfect type of feudal residences in 
 Central Asia. They served to explain to us many points in the 
 history of this country, and at the same time, by a comparison 
 which naturally suggested itself, various epochs of the past were 
 evoked, and appeared to us as clear and palpable as things of the 
 past can do in the present. Men follow pretty much the same 
 road to arrive at the same goal ; viz. the exhaustion of the race 
 after it has reached its zenith. Some races go a quicker pace 
 than others, which are tired out by a long march upon the toilsome 
 paths of progress, which have started late, or which have been 
 checked by insurmountable difficulties. By going to see the 
 inhabitants of Central Asia, we can judge how many stages we 
 have recently travelled. What are three or four centuries in 
 advance ? 
 
 September 28th. 
 
 We leave Hissar, with the intention of descending the valley of 
 the Kafirnagane as far as the Amu, and, if possible, of crossing it 
 near the confluence, where we are told that we shall find boats. 
 
 In the upper part of the valley, several villages are inhabited 
 by the Tadjiks, who cultivate the most fertile part of it. At a
 
 2^8 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 •J 
 
 distance of two hours from Hissar, the only inhabitants are Durman 
 Uzbegs, who are very poor, and the few kichlaks we see are 
 very insignificant as far as Akmetchet, where we arrive on the 
 evening of the 29th. Upon the banks of the river we saw several 
 crold- finders, who were washing the sand on the banks, and 
 obtaining a few grains of gold dust. 
 
 The narrow valley has a very desolate appearance. In the 
 valley of Tuskane, an important salt-mine, placed under the 
 protection of a saint, is worked by the natives. The salt is 
 obtained from a very salt spring, each drop of water as it dries 
 leaving a white powder upon the clothes. In the mountain we 
 see a few small herds of cattle grazing. 
 
 At Akmetchet, we follow the right bank, the valley widening 
 out, and being no longer the steppe. The kichlaks become more 
 numerous, and the Darya multiplies its branches, forming ponds 
 and marshy pools and irrigating rice-fields. There is more room 
 to move about. The river bends about, and contains in its folds 
 many islets, with thick growths of reeds, willows, tamaris, djiddas, 
 and mulberry-trees. 
 
 There is a greater depth of soil as we get lower down. In the 
 morning the mist was very dense, hiding the steep summits, and 
 dimming the outlines of the lower parts of the mountain chain. 
 
 Akmetchet consists of twenty-four huts or tents ; it is the 
 " second town " in the valley after Kabadiane. 
 
 Before reaching Bachkala, we meet upon the banks of the 
 river two or three Turkmen families, living in reed huts, which 
 is a sign that we are approaching the Amu. They formerly 
 inhabited Kerki, they tell us, and they left that country two years 
 ago because they did not like it. They belong to the tribe of 
 the Kuramas. The wretched Uzbegs, who wander about in the 
 surrounding mountains, are Kungrads. 
 
 In the hamlet of Bachkala, near Kabadiane, there are many
 
 From Samarcand to the Amu. 
 
 239 
 
 mulberry trees, as the natives rear silkworms. Kabadiane is 
 about an hour and a half from this village, upon the left bank of 
 the Kafirnagane. We arrive there on the evening of October ist. 
 This town, or, to be more correct, this enormous village, is made 
 up of farmhouses, standing amid islets formed by numerous 
 canals. Their banks are planted with large or small plane-trees, 
 which are pollarded. A great many silkworms are bred in this 
 district. 
 
 The fortress, at the foot of which we lodge, is built upon a 
 mound which commands the valley, here about five miles wide. 
 
 -^^' ^'eat"'«=S(s~-A 
 
 ^*^/.^ 
 
 -v.. 
 
 «^i>^-"^^ W^ f 
 
 -e^f 
 
 
 AN ENCAMPMENT AT KABADIANE.
 
 ^rXs 
 
 FORTRESS OF KAUADIANE. 
 
 CHAPTER VHI. 
 
 AMONG THE AFGHANS. 
 
 Our recruits — Tempest upon the Amu — Camels at the watering-place — Passage of 
 the Amu — Stopped at Chur-Tepe — Negotiations — The authorities — The 
 •Ersaris — Traits of Afghan character — The chief of the posts at the frontier — 
 Profession of faith — About the English — We are detained — Instructions asked 
 for from Mazari-Cherif, then from Cabul — The "vagrants ;" Jacob and Eleazar 
 Turkomans — Escape — Philtre, exorcism — The cyanide of potassium — We are 
 turned back — Our return to Samarcand. 
 
 At Kabadiane we take the precaution of hiring a mirza — that is 
 to say, a man who knows how to write — while we engage as 
 kii'aketches (muleteers), three Arabs, who are descendants of the 
 conquerors of Bactriana. They say that they are of the Arab 
 tribe of Balkhi. They formerly inhabited Afghan Turkestan, 
 which they quitted several years ago. One of them was recently 
 a soldier in the employ of the Toura of Hissar, and he has been 
 idle since the latter disbanded his army. The ex-soldier and one
 
 Among the Afghans. 
 
 241 
 
 of the muleteers, with faces like satyrs, are afflicted with a slight 
 limp. This is due to their having been for a long time in prison, with 
 one foot chained to a beam, by way of punishment for some 
 peccadillo. The mirza and two of the Arabs consent to cross the 
 
 PRISONERS AT KABADIAXE. 
 
 Amu with us, and accompany us as far as Mazari-Cherif, as they 
 know the road very well. As to the soldier, he will not upon any 
 conditions set foot on Afghan soil, as it was not long ago that he 
 ran away from Andkhoi, because " he was not happy at home." 
 
 R
 
 t42 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 The good man, who, with his swarthy complexion, pointed beard, 
 and way of showing the whites of his eyes, reminds us of one of 
 our fashionable painters, tells us what is generally known in the 
 country, viz, that he chopped his wife's head off to punish her for 
 
 /# 
 
 
 ARAB OF EALKH, OUR MULETEER, 
 
 being unfaithful to him, " which," he added, " there was the less 
 excuse for her being, because 1 fed her well ; we used to eat 
 palao nearly every day." 
 
 From Kabadiane we reach Bishkent, by way of the jungle
 
 Among the Afghans. 243 
 
 and the steppe, expecting to find interesting ruins there ; but the 
 information we had received was incorrect. 
 
 Upon the 5th of October we proceeded through a sandy 
 desert, and encamped in the jungle of the Amu, near the mouth 
 of the Kafirnagane, a south-westerly tempest bursting upon us 
 in the evening, and lasting all night. The howling wind bent 
 down the reeds, making them undulate like a horse's mane, and 
 crackle like thorns. The dust darkened the air, through which 
 fluttered flocks of geese and swans, uttering short cries of terror. 
 
 
 '■M!:;-'- 
 
 JUNCTION OF THE KAFIRNAGANE AND THE AMU. 
 
 The banks of the river were rendered invisible by the washing 
 up of the water, while, after a fire lighted in a hole quickly 
 dug in the ground had gone out, the darkness was very intense. 
 The din of the river was terrific, like that of an angry sea, and 
 the canvas of the tent flapped up like a sail upon the top of a 
 mast. Fortunately we were upon dry land. 
 
 In the morning the sky is clear, and we see upon the 
 left bank of the Amu horsemen and armed men. These are the 
 Afghan guardians of the ferry. To the south-east, the summits
 
 244 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 of the Hindu-Kush stand out distinctly ; upon the other side 
 is Kafiristan. What a pity we cannot cleave through the air 
 to it, like the swans, whose discordant notes we can hear over 
 our heads ! 
 
 A pilgrim, who is on his way to Khulm, will tell the Afghans 
 that we are going to return by way of Shirrabad to Samarcand, 
 and that we have given up the intention of crossing the stream, 
 contrary to what had been reported. We intend to go along the 
 river bank. 
 
 We encamp at Katun-Rabad, which was inhabited by Kara 
 Turkmenes, who have been succeeded by Dali Turkmenes. The 
 Kara pillaged their nomad neighbours, behaving so badly that 
 the Beg of Kabadiane, upon an order from the emir, compelled 
 them to decamp. 
 
 At Tuslak we halt near an aoul of wealthy Uzbeg Kungrads. 
 We are still in the jungle, which teems with beautiful pheasants 
 and wild boar. There are plenty of hares and tigers, for the path 
 shows the fresh traces of one with a foot as large as a young camel. 
 In the course of the night, the tiger has killed two camels; but 
 the natives do not seem to be much alarmed at his presence, as 
 this is his yearly custom. They will only set a snare for him 
 when he has eaten an Uzbeg. It is not worth while bothering 
 about two camels, for there are plenty of them. 
 
 Before sunset, at least a thousand of these animals are taken to 
 drink of the divine water of the best of rivers. It is a strange 
 sight to see these dromedaries coming out of the reeds, majes- 
 tically shaking their heads, then collecting upon the bank and 
 drinking in turn : those which are too impatient being kept in 
 their place by the drivers armed with long poles. 
 
 The male camels go first, grunting and occasionally kicking 
 out at some rival, with much more agility than might be exjDected 
 from such clumsy animals. They all drink with outstretched
 
 Among the Afghans. 
 
 245 
 
 necks, putting their heads down and making a gurgling sound 
 in different keys, according to their age and sex. The young 
 camels, with scarcely any hair upon them and an almost invisible 
 hump, are so weak on the legs that they can scarcely stand upright, 
 and as they kneel down to drink, they remind one of little children 
 who have a difficulty in getting upstairs. The females about to 
 bear young are so distended that their stomachs look like the 
 flanks of a lighter, though, upon the other hand, their humps do 
 not seem so large. They walk along with the saliva dropping 
 
 '»f -^^'^/^M^'M^-zk^- 
 
 X "-^ , 
 
 ■iS** 
 
 '...••liisy, « IP >jt 
 
 tchar6hamb£. 
 
 from their mouths, filthy and malodorous, despite their " interesting 
 condition." 
 
 The camels as they drink never stop wagging their tiny tails, 
 and they sometimes lose at one end what they take in at the 
 other, like so many badly corked casks. Those which wait show 
 their impatience as the others do their pleasure, by wagging their 
 tails, and when it is their turn to drink, they jostle one another 
 like sheep in their hurry to be first. 
 
 Those which have with difficulty been torn away from the 
 pleasures of the bath are driven off by the horsemen, who whistle
 
 246 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 to them and deal them blows, the dromedaries making a most 
 uncanny noise as they shuffle along. There is very little to 
 inspire poesy about these strange and ugly animals. 
 
 The same evening we sleep at Yangiarik, not far from the 
 Surkhane. 
 
 Upon the 9th of October, we cross the Surkhane and sleep 
 at Salavate, a village inhabited by the Tchagatai Uzbegs, some 
 of whom are gigantic men. They say that they have lived there 
 since the days of Timour. 
 
 Having remained until the 13th in the ruins of the Termis 
 of the ancients, we go on the 14th, past Turkoman farms, to 
 Tchochka-Guzar, and it is from there that we are to cross the 
 Amu upon the following morning in a Bokharan boat, leaving 
 upon the right bank the baggage which is not absolutely indis- 
 pensable, under the care of the deceived husband, and, taking 
 with us only our instruments and our tent, proceed toward 
 Bactrias. 
 
 The mirza seems always resigned to follow us, but his face 
 does not express any great pleasure. The Arabs are gloomy, and 
 in the evening they ask for payment of what is due to them, upon 
 the ground that they want to send the money back to their families 
 by a pilgrim. So we pay them. As for Menas, he gets ready for 
 the passage of the Rubicon by breaking up sugar, while Rachmed 
 puts the saddles in order, shoes the horses, and, with his friend, 
 smokes innumerable ghalyans. Seide — the name of the Arab 
 who fed his wife too well — occupies his spare time in thrumming 
 the domburak and humming tunes with the contented air of a man 
 whose mind is easy. 
 
 October 19th. 
 
 We make over some letters to the Bokhara authorities, asking 
 that they may be sent on to the chief of the Samarcand district, 
 who will forward them to their addresses. We ask them if the boat
 
 Among the Afghans. 247 
 
 is ready, as was agreed upon the day before. They say that all 
 is ready, but they beg us not to carry out our project, telling us 
 that " the Afghans are the most treacherous of men ; they are 
 inhospitable and deceitful, promising you honey and giving you 
 poison. The subjects of our emir are constantly having to com- 
 plain, first because one of them has been unjustly held to ransom, 
 then because others have been imprisoned without a cause, beaten 
 and stripped of all their belongings. The other day, three mer- 
 
 ,,*afegk^^. ^ 
 
 AT YANGARIAK. 
 
 chants were killed on their way to Mazari-Cherif, and we cannot 
 obtain any justice for this offence. Do not go there, for you will 
 do so at the risk of your lives." 
 
 The mirza has met two friends, who strongly dissuade him 
 from accompanying us, telling him that as soon as he has passed 
 the Amu he will be arrested, and that the Afghans, when they 
 have got tired of keeping him in prison, will kill him. 
 
 The mirza is as pale as death, and looks quite haggard, but 
 he says nothing. His beg has ordered him to accompany us, and
 
 248 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 he is terribly afraid of the Afghans. So that he finds himself 
 between the devil and the deep sea. 
 
 The Arabs, who yesterday seemed quite decided to follow us, 
 are less so at present. They are crouching under the wall, with 
 their heads between their knees, with the obstinate look in their 
 eyes of animals which refuse to advance. 
 
 We have their horses loaded, as our own are to remain here, 
 and we leave Rachmed to bring them round to a better way 
 of thinking. He begins by making them tempting promises, by 
 pointing out to them that they ought not to be worse than their 
 word, and attempts to wheedle them. Finding these efforts use- 
 less, he seizes a stick as a decisive argument, threatens them, and 
 finally gives them a good drubbing, whereupon they bestride their 
 horses without a word, and come on with us to the ferry, the road 
 to which is lined by bushy rose-trees. 
 
 We have some difficulty in getting our horses on board, for 
 there is no pier, and the side of the boat is very upright. 
 Rachmed's horse falls into the water, which is regarded as a good 
 sign by some, as a bad one by others. The horse is eventually 
 brought to shore again, and his master escapes with a wetting 
 of his baggage. The Bokhara men have very long faces as they 
 wish us good-bye, just as if they were laying us in our coffins. 
 
 We land upon the other side of the river, in a small creek 
 surrounded by tanks supplied by the stream, the waters of which 
 are gradually getting lower. We land amid a small caravan of 
 ragged Afghans, with faces like savages, armed with bucklers, 
 swords, and lances. They are taking a load of salt, and one of 
 them, who loses his temper with a disobedient camel, has his face 
 convulsed with fury. They are evidently not at all of an accom- 
 modating disposition. 
 
 We load our horses as quickly as we can, jump into the saddle 
 and start. But we are accosted by a mounted soldier who emerges
 
 Among the Afghans. 
 
 249 
 
 from the thicket. He wears a uniform we have never seen before, 
 and our appearance seems to take him by surprise. He asks us 
 where we are going. 
 
 "To Balkh." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " To see the ruins." 
 
 " What country do you come 
 from?" 
 
 " From Fherangistan." 
 
 " I am at your orders." 
 
 He takes us perhaps for Enghsh- 
 men. He makes a miHtary salute 
 and goes his way. 
 
 It turns out that he is an officer 
 in the Afghan army. He is armed 
 with a revolver and an English 
 cavalry sword. His headdress is a 
 cap lined with fur and surmounted by 
 a short and rather dirty turban. His 
 vest is of black cloth with a red 
 collar, his breeches are baggy, but 
 tied in at the ankle, after the Afghan 
 fashion, while on his feet he wears Peshawur shooting boots. All 
 this is more or less of a uniform, and he is in a great measure 
 a soldier, as may be seen by the Anglo-Indian cut of his beard, 
 by his whiskers reaching to the moustache, and his stiff seat on 
 horseback, which, by the way, does not denote a born horseman. 
 We are in the thicket by the time that he has galloped up to 
 us on his big Afghan horse. He puts himself at the head of our 
 troop, and offers to show us the way. 
 
 Upon emerging from the rose-banks, which are intersected by 
 marshy pools, we find ourselves in a stretch of country where the 
 
 AFGHAN OFFICER.
 
 250 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 abodes of the Ersari Turkomans are scattered about in the fields 
 surrounded by deep aryks (ditches), the ground being white with 
 salt in many places. We pass through the cultivated fields of 
 Chour Tepe, which have been formed out of reed beds, several 
 of which still remain, and as we ride along we catch a glimpse 
 of a canal, a horseman with pointed headdress, or a man on foot 
 armed with a long rifle. 
 
 Upon coming close to a caravansary, we notice a few huts 
 made of rushes, with a rough coating of mud. These are the empty 
 shops of the bazaar, the only occupant of which is a starved- 
 looking idiot, wrapped up in tattered rags. The officer asks us 
 to come into the caravansary, which is protected by high walls 
 and a ditch, and he offers us hospitality in his own room, which 
 he hastens to clear out. This invitation to rest ourselves is 
 significant, being a polite way of acquainting us not to go any 
 further until orders have been received on the subject. 
 
 Without having proper papers, it is impossible to travel into 
 Afghanistan. Authority from the emir is absolutely necessary, 
 as is explained to us by a gigantic one-eyed Turkoman, who 
 happens to be an acquaintance of Rachmed. He formerly served 
 an Uzbeg chief at Urgut, whom the Russians packed off to Siberia 
 for murder. When his master' was arrested, he crossed the Amu 
 into Afghanistan. He also informs us that there is, among the 
 reeds, near the river bank, a post of Afghan soldiers, who have 
 received orders to refuse the use of the ferry to any one who has 
 not a paper with the mirza's visa, and that he has been sent for 
 to see about us. He soon arrives, followed by three or four 
 Afghans of a more or less hang-dog appearance and armed to 
 the teeth, which he is not. He is very decently dressed, in wide 
 pantaloons of white cotton and a sort of open tunic, with Peshawur 
 slippers turning up at the toes, and an Afghan bonnet on his head. 
 He is thickset, swarthy, and covered with hair; his bushy beard
 
 Among the Afghans. 
 
 251 
 
 covers nearly the whole of his face, the hair extending almost up 
 to his eyes, which are black and very brilliant. He speaks shortly, 
 but expresses himself in very elegant Russian, which astonishes 
 Rachmed, who whispers to me that he must be anything but 
 pleasant to do with when he is angry. 
 
 The mirza puts a lot of questions to us, and we endeavour to 
 explain to him the scientific object of our journey, such as the 
 
 J-jt^^Kl' ? 
 
 --^ 
 
 i-, -' 
 
 '^ <Bif r^^H* Ji*°<.*-; 
 
 INTERIOR OF IHE CARAVANSARY AT CHOUR-TEPE. 
 
 examination of the ruins of the ancient Bactra, visited by Alex- 
 ander, the Arabs and the Moguls ; the exploring of Kafiristan, 
 which is inhabited by enemies of the Afghans, and supplies them 
 with such fine slaves, which can be bought cheap at Chost He 
 knows about France, and seems to understand to what nationality 
 we belong ; he understands that we have no evil motives. He 
 knows that our people is a powerful one, and that the Afghans 
 have no reason to dislike the French. So he bids us welcome,
 
 252 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 and advises us to await here the decision of the frontier chief, 
 whom he will inform of our arrival. We tell him that we have 
 only papers in French, which his chiefs do not understand. He 
 reads the Persian visa and seems satisfied. The mirza assures 
 us that to-morrow morning we shall have an answer ; he believes 
 that we shall be allowed to travel through Afghanistan. 
 
 As we do not wish to carry matters with a high hand, relying 
 upon our diplomacy to pull us through, we settle down in the 
 officer's room, and wonder whether we shall be allowed to pass, 
 despite the diplomatists who want to keep the Afghans isolated. 
 
 
 
 
 ^f-W-'*-. ^M3: 
 
 
 i:S^..« 
 
 OUTLINE OF THE BACTRA MOUNTAINS. 
 
 The important point is to establish the fact that we are French, 
 and this is no easy matter with people who are the embodiment 
 of suspicion, and who put no belief in the word spoken or the 
 word written. For, as a matter of fact, if they are ready to 
 believe in our nationality, our coming here will seem very extra- 
 ordinary, and they will be inclined to think that we have a mission 
 from our government. Their imaginations will be excited, and 
 they will think that we are persons of importance. We must tell 
 a convenient falsehood, and we shall see much that is interesting ; 
 in the first place, the city of Bactra, which has been in our thoughts
 
 Among the Afghans. 253 
 
 for so many years, probably to a much greater extent than it 
 deserves to be. 
 
 The repast offered us by the mirza is a copious one. At night- 
 fall, thanks to the obscurity, we receive letters from Europe, sent 
 on to us from Samarcand by a courier, whom we instruct to remain 
 on the other side of the stream, and we go to sleep happy in the 
 receipt of news from our relations and friends. 
 
 October 15th. 
 
 Upon awaking, we hear a noise in the street, horsemen and 
 people on foot passing on their way to the bazaar, this being 
 market day. Butchers, with stalls in the open air, are cutting up 
 carcases of cattle, of which we secure the undercuts. The Ersaris 
 do not eat horseflesh, this custom being chiefly an Uzbeg and 
 Kirorhiz one. The chief food of the Turkomans in this region 
 is the sorghum, of which they either roast the berries and eat 
 them as they are cooked, wearing their teeth down to the level of 
 the gums, or else grind them into flour and make a sort of polenta 
 with it. Despite this very plain kind of food, they are generally 
 very tall, with such strong limbs and frames, that they may be 
 compared to the massive and gigantic Patagonians. 
 
 This puzzles the mirza, who says that the Afghans could not 
 live on such fare ; and he is surprised that, though better fed than 
 these Ersaris, they are much smaller men. 
 
 " But," I said, " you are more courageous." 
 
 " Yes, that is true. There are not more than a dozen of us 
 in the caravansary, and we have the whole country in subjection 
 to us. 
 
 The day is spent in waiting for the reply, and watching the 
 natives come and go. There are some Afghans mixed up in 
 the crowd ; they do not appear to be very rich, but they do not 
 fraternize with the Turkomans. An aged Hindoo, with enormous
 
 254 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 black-rimmed spectacles, accompanied by a little boy nearly naked, 
 rides up with two ponies loaded with drugs. He soon has plenty 
 of customers. 
 
 The mirza tells us that to-morrow we shall certainly have a 
 reply. The caravansary is full of new faces. 
 
 October i6th. 
 
 " Iskandar Zulcarnein conquered the seven parts of the world. 
 He first defeated Dara, who took to flight. Dara was killed by 
 his own men, but Iskandar arrived in time to receive the last 
 wishes of the dying man. He took Dara's head upon his knees, 
 and the latter said to him : ' Treat my family well, and, I pray 
 of thee, kill them which have killed me.' 
 
 " Iskandar promised Dara to avenge him, and he conquered 
 the five other parts of the world. The all-powerful Emperor of 
 Tsin bestowed his daughter upon him ; he subjected nations which 
 lived in the entrails of the earth ; he killed with his lance fishes 
 which had bars of gold in their stomachs ; he captured the most 
 beautiful mares and the best stallions of Arabia." 
 
 This story of the mirza's was cut short by the arrival of three 
 cavaliers, who halted near the door. One of them, with blue 
 spectacles, riding a handsome horse, is accosted by Menas, who 
 shows him to our room, several armed men standing close to the 
 low doorway. The conversation takes place in Persian, and after 
 the customary exchange of pohte greetings, he begins to question 
 us as to the object of our journey and our nationality, our replies 
 being written down as they are made. We are in presence of 
 the chief who has the surveillance of the Amu. His watch is 
 not a very strict one, for if we had liked we could have gone to 
 Balkh without stopping, but this march inland would not have 
 done us any good, and would have irritated the Afghan authorities. 
 
 Our interlocutor does not in the least resemble the men he
 
 Among the Afghans. 
 
 255 
 
 ' !! »WW'V^Jfett "i-jt^ ' -^jj >'H"^,'^w<"l./,«lm ^ui.\i.")^m 
 
 commands, for he has a round face, a small nose slightly turned 
 up, a large stomach, though he Is not over thirty, and the big 
 limbs of a Turk, He wears the uniform of his rank, as he tells 
 us. He has a headdress similar to that of the Turkomans, but 
 which looks as if it had had the hair shaved off it ; and he wears 
 a grey frieze tunic, with large brass buttons, tied in at the waist 
 with a belt of English origin, as 
 is the sword hanging from it. 
 He has big boots like those of a 
 French gendarme, whose duties 
 he may be said to be discharg- 
 ing, and he has also a large knife 
 stuck into his belt, cartridge boxes 
 slung across his chest, and an 
 enormous breech-loading rifle 
 similar to that carried by ser- 
 geants of Sepoys in the Anglo- 
 Indian army. He also carries a 
 revolver, and there is no saying 
 what he has in his pockets, if 
 he has got any. 
 
 When this young officer, with 
 his intelligent face, has completed 
 his interrogatories, we take the i" 
 liberty of asking him where he 
 was born and to what tribe he be- 
 longs. His reply was as follows — 
 
 "I am of Kurdish origin. It is just 127 years since Nadir- 
 Shah the conqueror removed our tribe to the neighbourhood 
 of Cabul. It was a numerous one, comprising nearly a thousand 
 warriors, but to-day it is a small one, having scarcely a third as 
 many." 
 
 AFGHAN OFFICER.
 
 256 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 " How do you account for that ? " 
 
 " A great many have been killed in battle. We have no other 
 calling but that of arms. You may know that I have written 
 what you told me to Issa Khan Bey, at Masari-Cherif. He will 
 reply to my letter to-morrow, and give orders for the journey 
 through Afghanistan to be made easy for you. Consider this 
 country as your own, ask me for whatever you like ; I will procure 
 it for you immediately, as I am your slave." 
 
 He made a low bow as he uttered these words, and then with- 
 drew, returning almost at once to ask us who were the men that 
 accompanied us. I then noticed that he had a ring of antimony 
 round his eyes, and I could easily see from his strut that he was 
 deeply impressed with the dignity of his office and that he had 
 a very good opinion of his own person. He then went to a room 
 on the other side of the courtyard, through a crevice in the closed 
 shutters of which he watched us with close attention. But our 
 rugs had need of being exposed in the sun, so we hung them 
 to dry on cords which concealed us from his view and enabled 
 one of our Arabs to hand us, without being seen, fresh letters 
 which had come in from Samarcand. 
 
 In the evening, the Kurd paid us a visit in another dress,, 
 having taken off his boots and put on slippers with turned-up toes. 
 We converse in Persian, and I lead the conversation on to the 
 English and the Afghans. He praises the latter, vaunting their 
 courage, their contempt for death, their spirit of independence.. 
 He says — 
 
 "When the Afghans are anywhere, there they remain, and 
 they will die in their country rather than leave it. Their house 
 is not much of it, but if they were offered a very beautiful one 
 in exchange, one more beautiful than a star, they would not. 
 accept it." 
 
 " Have you lived in India ? "
 
 Among the Afghans. 257 
 
 " Yes, a long time ; it is the most beautiful and the richest 
 of countries. Without India the English would be poor." 
 
 " Why do you say that ? " 
 
 " I know it. I have seen the great things which they have 
 made — the canals, the roads, the bridges. They have been of 
 great benefit to the country. They have covered it with useful 
 buildings." 
 
 " Do the Afofhans like the Eno^lish ? " 
 
 "No.". 
 
 "At the present time, the two peoples are friendly ; you have 
 some English as guests, you have stood in defence of common 
 interests." 
 
 " We do not deceive ourselves as to English friendship, and 
 rely only upon ourselves. They are very rich. I was with their 
 Commission, a colonel got six thousand rupees a month, and you 
 know what a large sum that is." 
 
 " Yes, that is fine pay." 
 
 " The Russians, upon the contrary, are poor. They have no 
 money. Their generals are badly paid. Have they got many 
 soldiers ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I had heard so. But for them the Afghans would have taken 
 Bokhara long ago ; they would have conquered the whole country 
 up to Siberia ? " 
 
 Rachmed protests and tells the Kurd that the people of 
 Turkestan formerly captured Afghanistan, and that, well com- 
 manded, they might beat the Afghans. As to the Russians, they 
 will seize whatever they please. With one blow of the hand they 
 knocked down the Turkomans. 
 
 The Kurd shrugged his shoulders, and said — 
 
 " The Bokhara men are not soldiers ; nor are the Turkomans. 
 They are thieves whom it is easy to put to flight." 
 
 s
 
 258 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 This brought Menas to have his say. 
 
 " I know the Turkomans ; I know how they of Akkal fought 
 at Geok-Tepe, and they have many batirs (heroes). The Afghans 
 would never have got the upper hand of them, nor wouki the 
 Persians." 
 
 This annoyed the chief very much, and made him exclaim — ■ 
 
 " What do you mean by comparing the Persians to Afghans ? 
 The Persians are heivane (animals), not men. But for the 
 Russians we should have captured Persia a long time ago." 
 
 " But for the Russians ! " put in Menas ironically. 
 
 I am obliged to make him hold his tongue, for he is very 
 insolent, and he would soon be insulting the Kurd, whom it is our 
 interest to make friendly, and who would soon lose his temper 
 too. 
 
 " We are not afraid of either the Russians or the English," 
 added the Kurd, looking straight at INIenas, who smiled ; " and 
 we would fight to the last man rather than submit. The English 
 know of what stuff we are made, and we have killed a good many 
 of them. Eight years ago, a doctor who resembled you (pointing 
 to Capus), with 150 of his men, perished at our hands." 
 
 " Did he and his men resist '^ " 
 
 " They fought like brave men, like heroes. They had barri- 
 caded themselves in a house and refused to surrender, our 
 regiments surrounded the house, and they fired through the 
 embrasures and from the roof. Our soldiers made a breach in 
 the wall, and set fire to the house, but the Englishmen fought 
 as long as there was any breath left in their bodies. One of them 
 was a splendid shot ; by Allah ! he killed more than a hundred 
 Afghans to his own gun. A bullet shattered his arm ; he did not 
 fall, but loading his rifle with one hand, he continued firing until 
 a second bullet struck him in the flank. He then sank down, and 
 one of our men went up and hacked him to pieces with his sword.
 
 wj^^mmmsmm^mjil^mm^^^m^^mmWi 
 
 -rryt^yf^jy^-n^^.^t^'fi.-a^ 
 
 \ ki"-'-^ '^ ^ 
 
 "%, 
 
 
 .-^'-i 
 
 .*. 
 
 Wi 
 
 eH
 
 Among the Afghans. 261 
 
 He never uttered a groan, merely opening his eyes occasionally. 
 He was a hero. 
 
 " The Afghans are heroic, too, but in another way, and more 
 courageous than the English, for they are not so well armed, and 
 yet they do not hesitate to attack them. Where will you find 
 a Russian or an Englishman who will go up to a tiger with a 
 sword in his hand ? There are not many men like Yakoob-Khan, 
 and this is why he is carefully kept in durance. The Afghans are 
 not chary in risking their lives, and if they are not agreed as to 
 the conquests to be made, they will be as one man when it 
 becomes a question of defending their country, and will die 
 fighting to the last without asking for quarter." 
 
 Having finished this tirade, the speaker asked for a ghalyan, 
 which his subordinate, the hideous Dadali, presented to him with 
 a grin like a hyaena. 
 
 In answer to our approving observation that he " had spoken 
 like a man," he said — 
 
 " Yes, I am a man ; we are all of us men, but as to these 
 Bokhara fellows, . . . Look at your mirza, he was trembling all 
 over while I was questioning him. He was in such a fright that 
 he was seized with fever, and you had to give him a remedy." 
 
 He only spoke the truth, for the mirza had fallen ill out 
 of sheer fright, and had lost his appetite since he came here, while 
 after the interrogatory administered to him, he had an attack of 
 fever. 
 
 " And your Arabs, too," he added. " What do they look like '^ 
 People are afraid of us in Asia." 
 
 We have him poured out one, two, several cups of tea, and he 
 smokes our cigarettes at a rate which drives Menas, who is very 
 economical by nature, to despair. The Kurd tells us that he 
 has received a good education, that he speaks Hindustani, Turkish, 
 Persian, and Pushti ; that he has an atlas with maps of all the
 
 262 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 countries In the world ; that he knows India better than any one ; 
 that at Bombay he spent his time in the society of very pretty 
 women, who Hghtened his purse for him ; that his master, Issa- 
 Khan, is a brave and courageous man, deep in the confidence of 
 Abdurrhaman-Khan, who does not readily bestow his confidence. 
 
 " Is he a good emir ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he is just, but severe. At the present time he is 
 having about thirty men beheaded daily, at Cabul alone." 
 
 " It is said that the Ghilzis have revolted against him. Is this 
 true ? Who fomented this disturbance ? " 
 
 " Some discontented persons, who asserted that the emir 
 showed too much partiality for foreigners. The importance of 
 this rising was much exaggerated, and it was speedily put down." 
 
 The Kurd got up, in order to put an end to our questioning, 
 which he no doubt considered very indiscreet. 
 
 As to the fact he stated, there can be no doubt about it — the 
 Afghans are the foremost people in Asia as regards courage and 
 aptitude for war. They are restless, violent, and of indomitable 
 energy ; they are fond of adventure, and, by comparison with their 
 neighbours, they display great activity. Through contact with the 
 English, in their struggles with native armies organized after 
 European fashion, they have acquired a certain amount of military 
 instruction, and if they had expended, to the north and to the 
 west, the amount of effort required to protect their independence 
 threatened from the east, there can be no doubt that they would 
 have considerably increased their dominions during the last half- 
 century. They would have extended their frontiers beyond the 
 OxuS) doubtless to the foot of the Elburz, and the Russians would 
 have had to fight them instead of the khans of Khiva and the 
 emirs of Bokhara. The struo-orle would have lasted lonofer, but 
 the results would have been more important and more decisive. 
 The question of Central Asia would have been settled out of
 
 Among the Afghans. 26 
 
 J 
 
 hand, or would, at all events, have been wonderfully simplified 
 by the suppression of one of its most important factors — the 
 Afghan power and prestige. But history has its fatalities, finding 
 a pleasure in spinning out its dramas, so that one often has the 
 spectacle of a small people, very resolute and energetic, placed 
 geographically beside large nations, which it keeps on the qui vivc, 
 biting them at the heel, just as an ant does a man with a gun who 
 is taking aim at a pigeon, causing him to turn his head and miss 
 his mark. Afghanistan is a large ant, and she will be of service 
 to the more able of her two neighbours, to the one for whose 
 benefit she will bite the other. 
 
 This was the view we took of things as we went off to sleep. 
 We made some reflections also upon our own situation, and drew 
 horoscopes as to the future, if this name can be given to the 
 conjectures based upon the direction of the wind. The breeze 
 comes from the east, and drives us westward. Is this not an 
 unfavourable sign ? 
 
 October 17th. 
 
 We receive a visit from the Kurd and the Afghan mirza, who, 
 by the way, do not seem to get on very well. Their dispositions 
 do not harmonize. One is a regular Afghan, and he has a civil 
 appointment, being entrusted with the collection of taxes and the 
 administration of justice ; whereas the other is a military man, or 
 considers himself such, for he likes to play at soldiers, and to 
 relate his campaigns. We turn this antagonism to our profit, on 
 the principle divide ct ivipera. 
 
 I tell the Kurd that we are willing to await the reply of the 
 governor IssaTvhan, but upon the condition that we are allowed 
 to take a certain amount of exercise each day, this being essential 
 to health. I inquire if there is not any game in the neighbour- 
 hood, and we are told that there are plenty of pheasants in the
 
 264 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 bush. So it is settled that we are to go out after them this 
 afternoon. 
 
 As we are jumping into the saddle, we see the fat Kurd 
 coming up, armed from head to foot, with his cartridge-cases 
 filled, his revolver loaded, and all the pomp and panoply of 
 war. We compliment him upon his warlike appearance, and 
 then, in order to let me see that he is quite up to his work, he 
 executes with his enormous gun — an Enfield, if I am not mistaken 
 — the various movements of rifle drill, calling out the word of 
 command in English, and in stentorian tones : " Shoulder arms." 
 " Present arms." He handles his weapon very well, having 
 formerly served in the Anglo-Indian army in the Punjab. 
 
 When he has wheeled half-round, after the Prussian fashion, 
 and stamped his foot on the ground before pivoting upon one leg, 
 I cease to approve, and I tell him that an elegant soldier — this is 
 very far-fetched — like him should execute the movement with 
 more grace. I endeavour to prove to him that the half-turn 
 round, a la Frangaisc, is very much better ; and the mirza, who 
 contradicts the officer at every opportunity, repeats with me that 
 the first movement is heavy, and that it is suitable for a " fil ; " 
 that is, for an elephant. 1 
 
 The officer condescends to smile at the comparison, bestrides 
 his horse with much dignity, and off we go. 
 
 Before we enter the thicket, two men, mounted upon one 
 horse, come up with us, followed by an armed Afghan. I 
 recognize the ferryman, who is in the saddle ; but I do not know 
 the man who is riding behind, though I assume from his accoutre- 
 ments that he comes from Samarcand. Perhaps it is a man sent 
 us from the other side, possibly a courier, who has brought us our 
 letters, regardless of the strict injunctions we gave that they were 
 not to be brought over. 
 
 The officer had gone on in front while I was making these
 
 Among the Afghans. 
 
 26^ 
 
 reflections, and exchanged a few words with the new-comers ; 
 then questioning Rachmed, who was behind, I continued to go 
 forward, the others proceeding towards Chour-Tepe. 
 
 The officer rejoined me and said nothing, appearing to be 
 much preoccupied. 
 
 I asked Rachmed what he had questioned him about. 
 
 " Whether I knew who it was that the ferryman had up 
 behind." 
 
 "What did you answer ? " 
 
 " That I did not know." 
 
 " Did you not guess, then, that he was a man from Samar- 
 cand ? " 
 
 
 
 1, '"■v'^ "2 
 
 RETURNING FROM THE CHASE. 
 
 "No. I think you are right." 
 
 We wandered about in the wood after the pheasants, but 
 though we saw several, we could not get within shot of them, the 
 vicinity of human beings making them very wild. The officer 
 did not get off his horse. We returned before sunset, setting our 
 horses at full gallop, to see which would get In first. The officer 
 thinks that I am trying to reach Chour-Tepe before him, so he 
 whips his horse. But Pepin urges on his, which is much faster 
 than either of ours, and soon passes us, much to the discomfiture 
 of the poor man. He feels that he cannot come In first, and he 
 Is unwilling to leave me, being convinced that we have hum- 
 bugged him.
 
 266 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 Upon entering the courtyard of our residence, we find every- 
 body on the move. The man whom we had met is there, and 
 he presents us his compliments. It is he who has brought the 
 letters. Menas, who had remained behind, saw at once who he 
 had to deal with ; and he backed up what the courier had said, 
 declarino- that he knew him, that we had left him behind, and that 
 he was about to rejoin us. 
 
 These declarations being in contradiction with what Rachmed 
 had said, the Afghans' suspicions were roused, and they were 
 persuaded that we were in connivance with the Russians. This 
 accounts for their surly looks, and for the lugubrious aspect of the 
 Arabs, who did not know what was going to happen. 
 
 We resolve to tell the khan the truth, though that will not 
 mend matters much, for truth is not current in this country, where 
 a liar has as much chance of being believed as the most straight- 
 forward of men. I endeavour to dissipate the suspicions of the 
 officer, by explaining to him that we had told a friend at Samar- 
 cand to forward any letters wdiich might arrive for us from Europe 
 after our departure. This friend was to look out for a man who 
 would undertake to brincr them to us, as we had not time to make 
 this arrangement ourselves. Rachmed was quite right, therefore, 
 in saying he did not know the man, and it was true ; but Menas 
 did not tell an untruth when he said that this man was in our 
 service. 
 
 The officer appears to share our view, and to regard our 
 explanation as very plausible. He protests his friendship for us, 
 and calls us bahadoiir (valiant), loading us with flatteries. He is 
 extremely amiable, and assures us that he is at our disposal, 
 adding — 
 
 " The proof of the affection I feel for you is that I allowed 
 you to go shooting to-day without any order from my chiefs. I 
 run the risk of being severely punished, for the Emir Abdurrha-
 
 Among the Afghans. 267 
 
 man is one of those who exact unquestioning obedience, and he 
 punishes the sHghtest peccadillo with death. Ask what you will 
 of me ; I will procure it for you at once." 
 
 He then withdraws, upon the ground that he is fatigued. The 
 main door is closed and bolted with great care. We learn, 
 through our men, who are on the watch, that the incident of the 
 day is the subject of a lively discussion ; that two long letters 
 have been written, and that two horsemen have been despatched 
 with them, despite the night being so dark. The Afghans are 
 talking in whispers, and in their own tongue. It is evident that 
 our affairs do not look very well ; but we shall see what the 
 morrow will brinof forth. Moreover, the wind is blowino^ from 
 the east. 
 
 October i8th. 
 
 We are assured that we shall have a letter from Mazari-Cherif 
 in the evening. Several soldiers have come in from neighbouring 
 posts. The garrison has been reinforced, and our slightest move- 
 ments are watched. Rachmed having gone to sleep upon the sort 
 of mud pulpit in the open air, from which the muezzin calls to 
 prayer, he is looked for in all directions, and we are questioned as 
 to his whereabouts with manifest anxiety. There is a regular 
 alert, and some of the men look very gloomy. At last he is 
 found, and the Afghans feel reassured. 
 
 We go to bed without any fresh news. It is a fine, starry 
 night, and the wind is still in the east. 
 
 October 19th. 
 
 A Turkoman horseman arrives with a letter from Mazari- 
 Cherif, late in the day. Orders are sent out to detain us — to 
 prevent us from holding any communication with the right bank. 
 We are forbidden to despatch any letters, to fetch any linen, 
 sugar, or tea, at Tchochka-Guzar. I banter the officer upon this 
 aimless severity, and give him to understand that if we were so
 
 268 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 F 
 
 inclined we should soon be gone. I tell him this while he is 
 seated with a cup of tea before him in our room, smoking our 
 cigarettes without the least scruple. I explain to him in joke, 
 accompanying my remark with a gesture to the same effect, that 
 
 it would be easy for me to 
 take him prisoner while he 
 was within our reach. 
 
 " I should take you by 
 the neck, and in five minutes 
 Rachmed would have bound 
 you with strong cords. With 
 our arms, we could kill you 
 all in a trice ; but we have 
 no evil intentions, and we 
 regard you as friends, though 
 you treat us as prisoners." 
 
 " But you are not so," 
 said the officer, with a forced 
 smile. " You are our friends ; 
 the land of Afghanistan is 
 yours. We are treating you 
 in the usual way ; similar 
 measures are always taken 
 with foreigners. You need 
 not be under any uneasi- 
 ness." 
 
 " How long will it last ?" 
 " Barely twelve days ! " he added with a pleasant smile ; " only 
 long enough to admit of a messenger going to Cabul and re- 
 turning. The emir, you may rest assured, will at once come to a 
 decision on your affair. He transacts business very rapidly. He 
 will read my report, and he will at once send orders to show you 
 
 AlGiiA.N .\O.N-CU.M.Mi.-5.,li.i.\EU Ul-McLK
 
 Among the Afghans. 269 
 
 the curiosities of the district, of which there are not a few. But 
 I doubt his permitting you to go to the Cafirs, as they are savages. 
 You are our guests ; your hfe is precious to us, and we could not 
 allow you to risk it." 
 
 " Really ! " 
 
 " The Afghan is the most hospitable of men, and I will 
 guarantee you that you shall want for nothing." 
 
 " I am afraid that you are asking for the opinion of your 
 friends the English ; in which case we shall be kept waiting a 
 long time." 
 
 " Do not think that. The emir is master in his own house, 
 and he asks no one's advice." 
 
 Thus the situation becomes much clearer. We are overdone 
 with compliments, but we are not to be allowed to leave. So 
 we have no choice but to await the reply from Cabul, keeping our 
 eyes and ears open, ready for any eventuality. And, above all, 
 we must not go out to meet trouble, and must pass our time as 
 pleasantly as possible. 
 
 This is what we did until the 6th ot November, upon which day 
 we received orders to turn back, and were escorted to the ferry. 
 
 The Afghans, particularly the mirza, with whom we had 
 become close friends, soon became convinced that we were neither 
 Russians nor English, thanks to our sprightliness, which was 
 quite a novelty to them, and when their brains were not fuddled 
 by the haschisch, which they were constantly smoking, they took 
 part in our gambols, and laughed heartily with us. We had 
 tamed nearly all of them, except the Hazare Dadali, who was the 
 best pattern of the brute in human form I ever saw. But we 
 made even him dance, and then everybody was agreed that he 
 looked just like a bear. We had succeeded in undermining the 
 authority of the officer, whom we had finally nicknamed " the 
 lawyer's clerk."
 
 270 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 By dint of gaiety, we had won many sympathies. People are 
 always grateful to you for dispelling their enmii, and the Afghans 
 admitted that they had never laughed so much. Pepin took 
 advantage of this to make some water-colour sketches of the 
 most interesting of the troop, but others would not let themselves 
 be taken at all. 
 
 We had a good deal to amuse us. As the pilgrims and 
 traders on the march had to seek an interview with the authorities, 
 
 in order to obtain leave to cross the 
 ferry, we learnt some interesting news 
 from these men. We walked up and 
 down the courtyard, we climbed upon the 
 roof to get a good view, and we made 
 PILGRIMS. ^i^g Afghans relate stories to us. 
 
 In some cases, travellers were compelled to pay a small 
 " silao ; " that is to say, to make a present before being allowed 
 to cross the frontier without let or hindrance. Some who proved 
 recalcitrant were beaten. We saw a certain number of Hindoos, 
 which told us that the mountain road was a good one, that the 
 emir was at war, that they had encountered the English Com- 
 mission at such and such a place ; in short, they gave us the news 
 which at home would appear in the newspapers. Some of the 
 pilgrims were going to Kashgar by the Ferghana ; they had 
 landed at Bombay, passed through Cabul and the Bamiane Pass, 
 choosine this route in order to avoid the toilsome crossinof of the 
 Himalayas and of the Karakarum. We had noticed among their 
 number a shrunken Arab, speaking a few words of Turkish, who 
 had left his own country and followed a Kashgarian, in the hope 
 of seeing China, which, he had been told, was a marvellous 
 country. He had primed himself with information, and knew 
 that he would have to pass by Aksu and Hami. 
 
 In the East, there are not the variety of amusements which
 
 Among the Afghans. 271 
 
 are to be found in Europe. Idle men in the West can easily fill 
 up their time, thanks to many trifling occupations, and not find it 
 hang heavy on their hands. They have fishing, novels from the 
 circulating library, political gossip, the mania for collecting pipes, 
 keys, or butterflies, excursions at cheap rates, with all the thousand 
 inventions for preventing people from boring themselves to death, 
 and satisfying the unquenchable thirst for novelty. 
 
 Whereas, in the East, the man who is consumed by the desire 
 for action, w^ho dreams of distant things, who for hours together 
 
 tt/jftif 
 
 
 POWDER MAGAZINE AT CHOUR-TEPE. 
 
 listens to the flowery narratives of the story-tellers and the pilgrims, 
 is seized all of a sudden with profound melancholy, and goes off 
 to visit the holy places, as we should go to Switzerland. He 
 spends years together on the high-road, exposed to unfavourable 
 winds, detained in one place by want, in another by comfort, in a 
 third by some complaint. He grows grey with staff in hand, and 
 upon returning to his own country is surprised not to find it as 
 his memory depicted it to him, for experience has opened his eyes. 
 He will not in future be happy except when on the move, and he 
 starts off again with the first caravan passing through the country, 
 just as the migratory birds, which have been carried by a
 
 272 
 
 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 hurricane upon some distant shore, Hve there, until they can see 
 in the air a flock of emigrants, to which they attach themselves 
 without knowing where they are going. All they want to do is 
 to make a change. In the same way, these wanderers get to 
 think, if the abuse of haschisch or opium does not nail them 
 down to one spot, that what is new is best ; and they spend all 
 their lives in " going to see," like this lean Arab. 
 
 I must come back to Chour-Tepe, where, as I said, we were 
 not without amusement. 
 
 Upon one occasion, we extracted a good deal of fun out of the 
 discomfited appearance of our Bokhara mirza, who had been told 
 by the "lawyer's clerk " that he had just received orders to send 
 him off to Mazarl-Cherif, and that he must put his traps together 
 at once. The poor devil had merely made a submissive obeisance, 
 and had begun to put his scanty wardrobe together with trembling 
 hands. And as man is inclined to lauo;h at the misfortunes of 
 others, we laughed fit to split our sides. We were not so un- 
 feeling as the reader may fancy, 
 for we knew that no such order 
 was in existence, and that the in- 
 offensive scribe had nothing to 
 fear. 
 
 We spent a short time in 
 killinof the innumerable flies 
 which were buzzing about in our 
 room. The pranks of the sheep 
 belonging to Dadali, the Hazare, also amused us very much. 
 He followed his master like a dog, sniffed at the dishes, and made 
 his droppings into them. He was always at loggerheads with 
 the horses, eating the straw from one manger, and the barley 
 from another. In short, he was a most amusing companion for 
 three or four days. 
 
 
 
 DADALI SHEEP.
 
 Among the Afghans. 
 
 273 
 
 Upon the morning of October 25th, we see in the courtyard 
 a young- Turkoman, who is busy sweeping it under the supervision 
 of DadaH, who, perched upon the terrace, with his hands behind 
 his back, vouchsafes him an occasional " Barik, Allah," uttered 
 in a very dignified tone. The Turkoman's feet are chained, and 
 he can only move about with great difficulty. They tell us his 
 history, which is very like that of Eleazar and Jacob, the Turko- 
 man playing the part of Jacob. 
 
 Two years before, he had arrived from Kerki, his only fortune 
 being his spade, his fur cap, his 
 clothes, and his sword. He went 
 to the house of one of the wealthy 
 Turkomans of Chour-Tepe, and 
 offered his services. He soon won 
 the good graces of his new master, 
 who was the brother of his mother. 
 A few weeks after his arrival, he 
 concluded the following bargain 
 with his uncle. He undertook to 
 serve him for three years, upon 
 condition that at the end of two 
 years he should be given one of 
 his cousins in marriag-e. 
 
 The future son-in-law, seeing that his position was well 
 assured, sent for his mother, his sister, and his younger 
 brother. He settled them into a kappa (shelter made of reeds), 
 and took his younger brother to work with him. He recently 
 had his cousin given him in marriage, or in payment, I ought 
 rather to say. But as soon as the wedding was celebrated, he 
 refused to do any more work for his father-in-law, upon the 
 ground that he did not owe him anything more, though he had 
 only served him two years. He argued that as his brother had 
 
 T 
 
 AMU TURKOMAN.
 
 2 74- Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 worked with him, he had in reaHty given his uncle four years' 
 service instead of three. " Moreover," he added, " I am ready to 
 give him his daughter back again, but he does not want her. He 
 came to complain about me to the Afghan mirza, saying that 
 I owed him 380 tengas (about ^8) for his daughter. He had 
 witnesses, and got me arrested, but I will not give way." 
 
 The next morning, being market-day, the father-in-law came 
 to see his son-in-law, and advise him to compromise matters. But 
 the son-in-law is obstinate, and won't have anything to do with 
 his wife. In the afternoon, the contracting parties had a long 
 discussion with some Turkomans, who wanted to buy the rejected 
 woman, but after a lot of chaffering, the bargain fell through, 
 owing to the hard terms demanded by the father. 
 
 It appears that the prisoner has been in trouble, and that 
 the reason why he came over to Afghan territory was that he 
 had already been in difficulties with the Bokhara authorities 
 and the people of his own tribe. He is said to have committed 
 several murders. These antecedents at once secure him the 
 sympathy of our men, who ask him to take his meals with them, 
 and cram him with food to such an extent that he " swells visibly 
 before our very eyes." They have also suggested that they 
 should help him to escape by striking off his irons. The 
 Turkoman declines, saying that the time has not yet come, but 
 that when it does arrive, he shall have no difficulty in getting 
 away. 
 
 His brother comes to see him occasionally, and brings him 
 some bread scones ; he sweeps out the courtyard for him, and 
 they then sit down and converse together in an undertone. 
 
 Upon the evening of October 29th, there is a violent north-west 
 wind ; the air is full of dust, the river roars, and a regular tempest 
 sweeps along the valley of the Oxus. We shut ourselves up in 
 our rooms and are trying to go to sleep, when Rachmed, who
 
 Among the Afghans. 277 
 
 sleeps outside, the door, gets up and goes off. He comes back to 
 tell us that the Afghans were looking just now for Dadali, who 
 had disappeared while the Turkoman who was told off to keep 
 guard over him was asleep in the mosque. He had been called 
 for and hunted for in every corner, being finally discovered, sound 
 asleep, in a ditch. They had shaken and beaten him, but had 
 failed to wake him up. He was carried to the mirza's room, 
 where, with his eyes still shut, he was quite delirious, and 
 Rachmed asked us to come and see him. 
 
 As we got close to the door, we witnessed a very curious 
 scene. A number of Afo^hans were sittino- cross-leesfed all round 
 the room. Three of them were holding the unfortunate man, who 
 was talking all sorts of nonsense. The "lawyer's clerk" had 
 taken up his Koran, and read with a nasal twang, amid the deep 
 attention of the others, verses from " the book," at the same time 
 laying on his hands. Then he struck the possessed man several 
 blows on the face, threatening the evil spirit with great dignity. 
 In the meanwhile, the sick man's sheep had sniffed its way to 
 him, and was bleating in a most plaintive way, like a child at the 
 death-bed of its parents. The exorcism does not produce the 
 slightest effect ; and despite the shower of blows directed against 
 the djime, despite the rubbing of an onion over his nose, he does 
 not recover. 
 
 He is delirious all the time ; he sees enemies before him ; he 
 insults the emir, the Khan of Badakshan. And in this way we 
 learn that Dadali has had to fly the country for rape, and his 
 judicial antecedents are very bad. He speaks disparagingly of 
 the wife of the Sirdar of Mazari-Cherif, and we then ascertain 
 that this governor had resided for a long time at Samarcand, 
 whence he brought back a wife chosen from among the women 
 of bad character. Rachmed knows all about matters of this kind. 
 
 The demented man invokes Ali and Mahomet. The passage 
 
 T T,
 
 2/8 Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 of the English through Afghanistan has made a great impression 
 upon him, " for," he howls, " the emir sent them five camels of 
 melons, five camels of water melons, five camels of water, five 
 camels of forage, etc., and this every day. But they sent the 
 emir ten camels of gold, ten camels of rupees, ten camels of bricks, 
 which will do to build a fine mosque in the middle of the desert, 
 and ten more camels of bricks for the fountain to be built near the 
 mosque." 
 
 Abandoning this strain of ideas, and talking about us, he went 
 on to say, " We have taken men who do not belong to our 
 country ; we will send two of them over the water without doing 
 them any harm ; we will send back two more after having beaten 
 them. We will keep the mirza ; and as to the three Cafirs 
 (infidels), we will kill them, after having administered a sound 
 flogging to them. We will cut their heads off and carry them 
 to the Emir Abdurrhaman-Khan, who will give us many rupees, 
 for we shall have engaged in a holy war {g-aza)" 
 
 This was quite enough for us to hear, so we went back to bed, 
 and the next morning we learnt that the prisoner had fled, and 
 that all his family had crossed over to the other side on a raft, 
 which his friends had secretly built with reeds. He left his wife, 
 of course, behind him ; and the Turkoman who had lived at 
 Urgut asserts that the fugitive will have his revenge, and very 
 easily too, for he is familiar with the dogs and horses of his 
 father-in-law and knows what his habits are. 
 
 Dadali was for three days plunged in a sort of lethargy, from 
 which he only aroused himself to proffer threats, to be delirious, 
 and to writhe in convulsions. His chief, being afraid that he 
 would assault some of his companions, sent him into the jungle, 
 where he was placed in a hut, bound hand and foot, until he 
 regained consciousness, without knowing what had happened 
 to him.
 
 Among the Afghans. 279 
 
 Some people attributed this access of insanity to a philtre, 
 the prescription for making which they gave us ; the others main- 
 tained that he had simply been possessed of an evil spirit 
 (djime). 
 
 Speaking of philtres, it may be interesting to mention how the 
 natives wanted to use some cyanide of potassium which we had 
 in a phial, in which we placed the insects we wanted to kill. The 
 
 "^"^ 
 
 RAFT UPON THE AMU. 
 
 " lawyer's clerk " had been much struck by the rapid death of 
 a large spider which he had seen us put into this phial, and he 
 at once asked us the name of this drug, telling us that we should 
 give great pleasure to the Beg of Chahimardan (Mazari-Cherif) 
 if we would present him with the contents of the phial. 
 
 " You see," he said, " that would kill a man without leaving 
 any trace behind it. When one employs a sword, a knife, or 
 a gun, there are also wounds to be seen, or traces of blood ; when 
 you strangle or hang a man, the face becomes livid, or the rope
 
 28o Through the Heart of Asia. 
 
 leaves a mark. Whereas with this you kill your man, and no one 
 can see how it is done. The relatives believe that he has died 
 a natural death, and do not attempt to avenge him. It is very 
 handy. What do you call the poison, as I want to write the name 
 of it down ? " 
 
 " Cyanide of potassium." 
 
 " Canour potasiou. I will send this to the beg, as he will 
 have some of this poison bought in India, and he will find it very 
 useful ! " 
 
 How nice ! 
 
 Thereupon we cross the Amu again, for yesterday we were 
 given to understand that we were forbidden access to Afghanistan. 
 
 '^''^'^t 
 
 V 1 '~r /-;% 
 
 ,v 
 
 9^a-.s'VA..r(; 
 
 ■"^^^ 
 
 
 If ', 
 
 Our orood friends had, it appears, sent spies to Samarcand, and 
 the^' had come back with the tidings that two of us were Russians 
 and the third French, this being Pepin, who does not speak 
 Russian. They had got their information in the bazaar, where 
 we went very often ; and the natives, judging us by our dress 
 and language, had taken us for Russians. So much lor public 
 rumours. The official reason given is that the emir cannot let 
 us travel through his country until the Boundary Commission 
 has completed its work ; which reminds me of what Mery said 
 about commissions : " If a commission had been appointed to 
 create the world, all would still be chaos." 
 
 We are escorted back to the stream with much ceremony.
 
 Among the Afghans. 281 
 
 Our mirza is overjoyed ; the courier, who had been afraid that 
 we should get into trouble, and who often made me significant 
 gestures, putting up his hand to the back of his neck, is also very- 
 pleased. Before we embark, the Afghans tell Rachmed that 
 if we cross the river a second time, without a written permit, they 
 will hack us to pieces and throw our bodies into the stream. 
 They want to frighten us, and apply to us the terrorising system 
 which, according to the latest news, answers well with their emir 
 at Cabul. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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