both of numbers and of civilization. Their domain extends from the Don
and the Volga to the mountains of Thianshan, and from the middle Irtish
to south of the Balkhash Lake, indeed, almost to Khiva and Bokhara;
they are divided into tribes and hordes, into steppe and mountain
herdsmen, but they are one in descent, in language and religion, in
manners and customs, however much the various tribes may appear to
differ. The smallest or youngest horde wanders throughout the steppe
of Orenburg; a branch of the same, calling itself the Buka tribe,
traverses the steppe between the Volga and Ural rivers, especially in
the governments of Turgai and Ural; the middle or elder horde inhabits
the steppes and mountains of the Irtish and Balkhash regions; and
finally, extending from beyond the river Ili towards Khiva and Bokhara
are to be found the ever-changing dwelling-places of the mountain
Kirghiz, who describe themselves as the great, or eldest horde. No
branch of these people applies the name Kirgis or Kirghiz to itself,
for that is a term of infamy equivalent to “freebooters”. The proper
designation of our people is Kaisak, Kasak, or, as we should read it,
Cossack, although even the Russians apply the name Cossack to a people
quite distinct from the inhabitants of the steppe.
The Kirghiz, as I shall call them nevertheless, are a Turkish people,
about whose racial affinities different opinions are held. Many, if
not most, travellers look upon them as true Mongolians, while others
regard them, probably more correctly, as a mixed race, suggestive of
the Mongolians in some particulars, but, on the whole, exhibiting
the characteristics of Indo-Germans, and especially resembling the
Turkomans. All the Kirghiz I saw belonged to the middle horde, and
were well-built people, small, or of medium height, with faces, not
beautiful indeed, but not of the caricature-like Mongolian type,
neat hands and feet, clear or transparent light-brown or yellowish
complexions, brown eyes, and black hair. The cheek-bones are seldom
so prominent, or the chin so pointed, as to give an angular or
cat-faced appearance; the eye, of medium size, is usually most arched
centrally, and drawn out horizontally at the outer angle; it is thus
almond-shaped, but not obliquely set; the nose is usually straight,
more rarely hooked; the mouth moderate in size and sharply cut, the
beard thin, without being actually scanty. True Mongolian features are
certainly to be met with also, more especially among the women and
children of the poorer class; but, though I have seen very few really
beautiful Kirghiz women, I have met with quite as few of the grotesque
faces so common among other undoubted Mongols. The characteristics are
unmistakably more suggestive of a mixed race than of any one sharply
defined stock. I have seen men whom I should unhesitatingly have
pronounced to belong to the nobler Indo-Germans if I had known nothing
of their kinship, and I have become acquainted with others about the
Mongolian cut of whose faces there could be no possible doubt. The
members of the older families usually possess all the essential marks
of the Indo-Germans, while men of lower descent and meaner extraction
often remind one of the Mongols in many details, and may sometimes
resemble them completely. The power of Islam, which permits to slaves
who have become converts all the rights of the tribe, may in the course
of time have made Kirghiz out of many heathen Mongols, and thus not
only have influenced, but actually destroyed the racial characteristics
of the Kirghiz.
Although the chief features of the Kirghiz dress are Turkish, it is, as
a whole, by no means suited for displaying their figure to advantage.
In winter the fur cap, fur coat, and thick-legged boots hide all the
details of the figure, and even in summer these do not come into
prominence. The poorer Kirghiz, in addition to his fur coat and the
inevitable fur cap, wears a shirt, kaftan, and wide trousers; the
higher class rich man, on the other hand, wears a great many articles
of dress one above the other, like the Oriental; but he stuffs all
those which envelop the lower part of his body, with the exception of
his fur coat, into his wide trousers, so that he may not be impeded in
riding. Consequently, the more richly attired he is the more grotesque
he looks. They prefer dark colours to light or bright ones, though
they do not despise these, and they are fond of decorations of gay
embroideries or braiding. Nearly every Kirghiz wears at his girdle a
dainty little pocket, richly decorated with iron or silver mountings,
and a similarly ornamented knife; beyond these, and the indispensable
signet-ring, he wears no decoration unless the Emperor has bestowed one
upon him, in the shape of a commemorative medal.
Of the dress of the women I can say little, first, because modesty
forbade me to ask about more than I could see, and secondly, because
I did not see the women of the upper class at all, and never saw the
others in their gala attire. In addition to the fur coat, boots and
shoes, which are exactly like those of the men, the women wear trousers
which differ very slightly, a shift, and over it a robe-like upper
garment, falling below the knee and clasped in the middle; on the head
they wear either a cloth wound in turban-fashion, or a nun-like hood
which covers head, neck, shoulders, and breast.
The clothing of both sexes is coarse, except the riding-boots and
shoes, which are always well made. Very characteristic, and obviously
adapted to the climatic conditions, are the extraordinarily long
sleeves which both men and women wear on their upper garment; these
fall far beyond the hands, and cover them almost completely.
[Illustration: Fig. 66.--The Home of a Wealthy Kirghiz.]
The roving life to which the Kirghiz are compelled by the necessity
of finding sufficient pasturage for their numerous herds, involves a
style of dwelling which is easily constructed, can be taken down at
one spot and erected again at another without special difficulty, and
which must yet afford a sufficient protection against the hardness
and inclemency of the climate. These requirements are fulfilled more
thoroughly by the _yurt_ than by any other movable dwelling, and it
is not too much to say that this is the most perfect of all tents.
Thousands of years of experience has made the _yurt_ what it is--a
home for the nomadic herdsman, or any other wanderer,--which, in its
own way, cannot be surpassed. Light and easily moved, readily closed
against storms, or thrown open to admit air and sunshine, comfortable
and commodious, simple, yet admitting of rich decoration without
and within, it unites in itself so many excellent qualities that
one appreciates it ever more highly as time goes on, and finds it
more and more habitable the longer one lives in it. It consists of a
movable lattice-work which can be extended or contracted, and which
forms the lower upright circular walls of the framework, a coupling
ring which forms the arch at the top, spars inserted into both these,
and a door in the lattice-work; light mats of tschi-grass, and large
wads or sheets of felt, cut to shape, and most ingeniously laid on,
compose the outer covering of the whole framework, and thick carpets
of felt cover the floor. With the exception of the door-frames, which
are mortised together, and of the spars, the upper ends of which are
inserted into holes in the coupling-ring, the whole structure is held
together simply by means of cords and bands; and it is thus easily
taken to pieces, while its form--circular in cross section, and
cupola-like longitudinally--renders it capable of great resistance to
violent storms and bad weather of all sorts. The work of putting it up
scarcely requires more than half an hour, that of taking it down even
less; the strength of a single camel conveys it from place to place,
but its construction and decoration take up much of the time and all
the ingenuity of the housewife, to whose share falls the chief work of
making it, and the whole labour of setting it up.
The yurt forms an important part of the movable property of a
Kirghiz. A rich man owns six or eight, but he spends money rather on
the decoration of a few than on the construction of many, for he is
assessed and taxed not according to the size of his herds but the
number of his yurts. The high-class Kirghiz certainly shows his wealth
through his yurt, by fitting it up as richly as possible, making it out
of the most valuable felt, and decorating it without and within with
coloured pieces of cloth; but he sets store rather by the possession
of costly rugs, and beautifully sewn and embroidered silken coverlets,
with which he decorates the interior of the living-room on festive
occasions. Such rugs are handed down from father to son, and the
possession of them ranks scarcely below that of uncoined silver.
The real wealth of the nomadic herdsman cannot, however, be estimated
by such secondary things; it must be calculated by his herds. Even the
poorest owner of a yurt must possess numerous beasts to enable him
to live, or survive in the struggle for existence; for the herds he
tends form the one indispensable condition of life; they alone stand
between him and ruin. The rich man’s herds may number thousands upon
thousands, those of the poor man at least hundreds; but the richest may
become poor, if disease breaks out among his herds, and the poor man
may starve if death visits his beasts. Wide-spreading murrain reduces
whole tribes to destitution, causes thousands of human beings literally
to die of starvation. Little wonder, then, that every thought and
aspiration of the Kirghiz is bound up with his herds, that his manners
and customs correspond to this intimate connection between man and
beast, that the man is, in short, dependent on the animal.
Not the most useful, but the noblest and the most highly prized of all
the domesticated animals of the Kirghiz is the horse, which in the eyes
of its owner represents the sum and essence of domestication, and the
climax of all beauty; it is a standard by which to reckon, according to
which wealth or poverty is determined. He does not call it a horse, but
simply the domestic animal; instead of the words “left and right” he
uses the expressions, “the side on which one mounts a horse”, and “the
side on which one carries the knout”. The horse is the pride of youth
and maiden, of man and woman, whether young or old; to praise or find
fault with a horse is to praise or blame its rider, a blow given to a
horse one is not riding is aimed not at the horse but at its owner.
A large number of the Kirghiz songs refer to the horse; it is used as
a standard of comparison to give an estimate of the worth of men and
women, or to describe human beauty.
“Little bride, little bride,
Dear foal of the dark brood-mare!”
the singer calls to the bride who is being led into the bridegroom’s
yurt;
“Say where is the play of the white locks
And where the play of the foals,
For kind as is the new father,
He is not the old father to me,”
the bride answers to the youths who sing the “Jarjar”, the song of
consolation to the departing bride, referring by the words “Foal-play”
to the time of her first love.
The wealth of a man is expressed in the number of horses he possesses;
payment for a bride is made in the value of so many horses; the maiden
who is offered as a prize to the winner in a race is held as being
worth a hundred mares; horses are given as mutual presents; with
horses atonement is made for assassination or murder, limbs broken in
a struggle, an eye knocked out, or for any crime or misdemeanour; one
hundred horses release from ban and outlawry the assassin or murderer
of a man, fifty, of a woman, thirty, of a child. The fine imposed by
the tribe for injuring any one’s person or property is paid in horses;
for the sake of a horse even a respectable man becomes a thief. The
horse carries the lover to his loved one, the bridegroom to the bride,
the hero to battle, the saddle and clothing of the dead from one
camping-place to another; the horse carries man and woman from yurt to
yurt, the aged man as well as the child firmly bound to his saddle,
or the youthful rider who sits for the first time free. The rich man
estimates his herds as equivalent to so many horses; without a horse a
Kirghiz is what a man without a home is among us; without a horse he
deems himself the poorest under the sun.
The Kirghiz has thoroughly studied the horse, he knows all its habits,
its merits and defects, its virtues and vices, knows what benefits and
what injures it; sometimes, indeed, he expects an incredible amount
from it, but he never exacts it unless necessity compels him. He does
not treat it with the affectionate care of the Arab, but neither does
he ever show the want of consideration of many other peoples. One
does not see anything of that careful and intelligent breeding of
horses which is practised by Arabs and Persians, English and Germans,
but he does constantly endeavour to secure the improvement of his
favourite breeds by only placing the best stallions with the mares, and
castrating the rest. Unfortunately his choice of breeding-horses is
determined solely by form, and does not take colour into consideration
at all, the consequence being that many of his horses are exceedingly
ugly, because their colouring is so irregular and unequal. The training
of the horse leaves much to be desired; our wandering herdsman is much
too rich in horses for this to be otherwise.
We found the Kirghiz horse a pleasant and good-natured creature,
although it by no means fulfilled our ideal of beauty in all respects.
It is of medium size and slender build, with a head not ugly though
rather large, decidedly ram-nosed, and noticeably thickened by the
prominent lower jaw-bones, a moderately long and powerful neck, a long
body, fine limbs, and soft hair. Its eyes are large and fiery, its ears
somewhat large, but well-shaped. Mane and tail have fine, long hair,
always abundant, the hair of the tail growing so luxuriantly that it
sweeps the ground; the legs are well formed, but rather slim, the hoofs
are upright, but often rather too high. Light colours prevail and very
ugly piebalds often offend the eye. The commonest colours are brown,
light-brown, fox-coloured, dun, and bay, more rare are dark-brown and
black, and one only occasionally sees a gray. The mane and tail greatly
increase the beauty of all the light-coloured horses, because they are
either black or much lighter than the body hairs.
The temper of the animal is worthy of all praise. The Kirghiz horse
is fiery, yet extremely good-natured, courageous in the presence of
all known dangers, and only nervous, skittish, and timid when it is
bewildered for a moment by something unusual; it is spirited and eager
in its work, obedient, docile, willing, energetic, and very enduring,
but it is chiefly valuable for riding, and requires long breaking-in to
make it of use as a draught animal, in which capacity it is much less
valuable than as a riding-horse.
[Illustration: Fig. 67.--Life among the Kirghiz--the Return from the
Chase.]
It has a particularly disagreeable habit, for which the Kirghiz is
certainly more to blame than the animal, of constantly eating or at
least nibbling on the way; it even attempts to satisfy its appetite in
the most difficult situations, as in wading through rocky mountain
torrents or climbing steep precipices. It is as insatiable as all other
domesticated animals accustomed to roam freely over the steppe, but
in its association with others of its species, except in the breeding
season, it is as peaceable as it is obedient and submissive to its
master.
The poorer Kirghiz possess only horses enough to provide a mount for
each member of the family, and to ensure the continuance of their
stock. The richer dwellers on the steppe, on the other hand, have
four or five, indeed I have often been assured as many as ten or
twelve thousand head, which feed in separate herds, and at different
places, and therefore, naturally enough, thrive better than those
of their poorer brethren. Each herd consists of at least fifteen,
or at most fifty individuals; in the latter case it comprises one
fully-grown stallion, nine brood-mares, and as many young foals,
eight two-year-olds, six or eight three-year-olds, and five or six
four-year-olds, besides some older animals or geldings. The stallion
is absolute lord and master, guide, leader, and protector of the herd,
and he never lets himself be deprived of a single foal by the wolf, but
attacks that cowardly robber boldly and successfully, striking him to
the ground with his hoofs if he shows fight. But he will not tolerate
a rival, and drives out all other stallions from the herd as soon as
they come to maturity; when he enters on his leadership he drives away
his own mother, and later his own daughters. This proud wilfulness
necessitates the greatest watchfulness on the part of the herdsman
during the pairing time, lest he lose the expelled mares which are
seeking a new sultan, or the stallions which are striving for their
own independence. The young mare reaches maturity in her fifth year,
and the following spring, usually in March, she brings forth her first
foal. She is not at once separated from the rest of the herd, but in
May she and her foal are brought into the neighbourhood of the yurt,
and for four months she is regularly milked to provide the famous
koumiss or milk-wine. In autumn, mother and young are allowed to rejoin
the herd. Both are received without hesitation, and they enjoy their
newly-recovered freedom to the full.
Apart from the horse, the most useful, and therefore the most
important domestic animal of our nomadic herdsman, is the sheep. This
animal is very large and well-built, but very much disfigured by the
protuberances of fat on the rump. The massive body rests upon long
but powerful legs; the head is small, the nose narrow and blunt, the
ears pendulous or erect, the horns weak, the skin hard but thick,
the udder very much developed, the fat rump often so enormous that
the creature can no longer carry it, but bending its knees lets it
drag on the ground, unless the herdsman comes to its aid by fixing a
little two-wheeled cart under the tail, and placing the burdensome
appendage on that. When the Kirghiz rams are crossed with sheep without
this protuberance, their descendants acquire the singular appendage
in two or three generations, while if smooth-tailed rams be paired
continuously with fat-rumped sheep the reverse takes place.
Though the character of the Kirghiz sheep resembles that of our sheep
in all important respects, it cannot be disputed that the free life
on the steppes, the long journeys which have to be made, and the
difficulties which have to be surmounted in the course of these have
developed its physical and mental capacities to an incomparably higher
degree than is attained by our domestic sheep. Nevertheless, even in
the steppe the clever goat acts as leader and guide to the relatively
stupid sheep, and it is therefore only right that I should describe the
goat next.
The Kirghiz goat is of medium size, massive and well-built, the body
powerful, the neck short, the head small, the limbs well-proportioned,
the eye large and bright, the glance full of expression, the erect
ear pointed, the horns comparatively weak, and either directed
backwards and outwards or half turned on their axes, the hair abundant,
especially on beard and tail, that on the forehead being long and
curled; the prevailing colouring is beautiful pure white with black
markings.
The Kirghiz always treat sheep and goats exactly alike, and they feed
together in flocks. The poor Kirghiz of one aul make up a flock among
them, the rich man, whose beasts are numbered by many thousands, has
often several. The shepherd, usually a biggish boy, rides on an ox
beside his flock, but he understands so well how to manage his steed
and make it trot, that he can overtake the fleetest goat. Once as we
were returning from a hunting expedition, we met a shepherd who, by
way of amusement, rode along for quite a quarter of an hour beside our
briskly-trotting horses, yet his singular steed showed no signs of
fatigue. Only the shepherds belonging to the Tartar sheep-owners ride
on horses. In hazardous parts of their journeys, such as crossing a
rapid stream, or climbing among the mountains, the goats take the lead,
and here, as everywhere else, the sheep follow them blindly.
As hay can only be gathered and stacked in the most favoured spots,
the birth of lambs and kids in autumn is prevented; it therefore
always takes place in spring, and the young ones have thus every
chance to thrive well and grow rapidly. New-born lambs and kids are
taken into the yurt at once, and they soon become so well accustomed
to it that they only quit the comfortable tent with piteous bleatings
when circumstances render it necessary. Later on they are put into a
shelter near the winter-dwelling. In the open steppe this shelter is
a simple hollow in the ground, over which the cold wind blows almost
unfelt; finally they are secured to the rope called a _kögön_, which is
stretched between strong poles in front of every yurt. As soon as they
begin to graze they are driven out in flocks by themselves to the open
steppe, and brought back to the yurt towards evening. Thus they become
accustomed from their earliest youth to the free life of the steppes,
to wind and tempest, storm and rain.
In comparison with horses, sheep, and goats, cattle play a very
subordinate part. Herds of them are certainly to be seen in the
neighbourhood of every aul, but they are quite out of proportion to
the numbers of sheep and goats. The ox is larger and better built than
that of the Russian and Siberian peasants, but it is far behind the
Chinese ox, and cannot for a moment be compared with any noteworthy
breed of Western Europe. It is of medium size and fleshy, its coat is
short and smooth-haired, its horns long and curved, its prevailing
colour a beautiful, warm red-brown. The cattle are sent out to graze in
rather large herds, with no supervision of any kind, the milch cows
being enticed back to the yurt solely by the calves which are tied up
and tended there, while the bulls roam about as they please, and often
remain away from the aul for several days at a time.
Though all the large auls possess camels, by no means every Kirghiz
owns one, and even the richest among them seldom possess more than
fifty head. For the camel is rightly considered the most perishable of
all the stock owned by the nomadic herdsmen of this steppe; its real
home lies farther to the south and east. In the part of the steppe
through which we travelled only the two-humped camel is reared, but
south of the Balkhash Lake and in Central Asia preference is given to
the dromedary. The two species cross here and produce strange hybrids
in which the two humps are almost fused into one.
The camel of the central steppe belongs to one of the lighter breeds,
and is therefore not nearly so massive and awkward as those which are
to be seen in most zoological gardens, but it is quite as thickly
covered with hair. Nevertheless, it does not stand cold nearly so well
as the other domestic animals of the Kirghiz, and requires a felt mat
to kneel down or rest on, and even then it often takes cold and dies.
While shedding its hair it has to be enveloped in a felt covering, and
in summer it has to be protected from mosquitoes and gadflies else it
will succumb; in short, it is the object of constant anxiety, and is
therefore not suited to a poor man, who feels every loss with threefold
force. It resembles the dromedary in being easily satisfied in the
matter of food, and in displaying the blind rage characteristic of
the pairing-time, when it menaces even its usually loved master, but,
for the rest of the year, it differs from the dromedary, very much to
its own advantage, in docility and gentleness. Having been accustomed
to the dromedary for many years, I was particularly struck by these
excellent qualities in the steppe camel; I hardly recognized the race.
The camel allows itself to be caught without resisting, and kneels down
to be laden, if not altogether without grumbling, at least without the
horrible, nerve-shattering bellowing of the dromedary. Even at a trot
it carries light burdens uncomplainingly, covering twenty miles or more
in the course of a day; if its load slips, it stops of its own accord.
With a rider it can cover about thirty miles a day; with a weight of
eight cwts. on its back, compelling it to a slow but striding step,
it should manage at least half that distance. It grazes almost always
in the vicinity of the yurt, in company with all its fellows of the
aul, and in the eyes of the Kirghiz it is to a certain extent a sacred
animal.
[Illustration: Fig 68.--Kirghiz with Camels.]