KERVANBASHI INSISTS THAT AUTHOR SHOULD TAKE NO NOTES
EID MEHEMMED AND HIS BROTHER'S NOBLE CONDUCT
GUIDE LOSES HIS WAY
KÖRENTAGHI, ANCIENT RUINS, PROBABLY GREEK
LITTLE AND GREAT BALKAN
ANCIENT BED OF THE OXUS
VENDETTA
SUFFERINGS FROM THIRST.
_C'était une obscurité vaste comme la mer, au sein de laquelle le
guide s'égarait . . . où périt le voyageur effrayé_.--Victor Hugo,
from _Omaiah hen Aiedz_.
[Kervanbashi insists that Author should take no Notes]
Without being able to discover the slightest trace of a path indicated
by foot of camel or hoof of other animal, our karavan proceeded
towards the north, directing its course in the day by the sun, and at
night by the pole star. The latter is called by the Turkomans, from
its immovability, Temir kazik (the iron peg). The camels were attached
to one another in a long row, and led by a man on foot; and, although
there was no positive place of honour, it was regarded as a certain
sort of distinction to be placed near the Kervanbashi. The districts
on the further side of Etrek, which form the foreground of the Great
Desert, are indicated by the name of Bogdayla. We proceeded for two
hours after sunset over a sandy bottom, which was not however
particularly loose, and which presented an undulating, wavy surface,
in no place of much elevation. By degrees the sand disappeared, and
about midnight we had so firm a clayey soil under us, {91} that the
regulated tread of the distant camels echoed as if some one was
beating time in the still night. The Turkomans name such spots Takir;
and as the one on which we were had a reddish colour, it bore the name
Kizil-takir. We marched uninterruptedly till it was nearly dawn of
day; altogether we had hardly advanced six miles, as they did not wish
at the outset to distress the camels, but especially because the
greatest personages in our company of travellers were unquestionably
the buffaloes, of which one was in an interesting situation, and could
not with her unwieldy body keep up even with the ordinary step of the
camel,--consequently there was a halt for repose until eight o'clock
in the morning; and whilst the camels were eating their fill of
thistles and other plants of the desert, we had time to take our
breakfast, which had not yet ceased to be luxurious, as our skins were
still richly stored with fresh water, and so our heavy unleavened
bread slipped down aided by its sweet draughts. As we had encamped
close together, I remarked that the Kervanbashi, Ilias, and the chiefs
of my companions, were conversing, and, as they did so, kept casting
glances at me. It was easy for me to divine the subject of their
conversation. I pretended, however, to pay no attention; and after
having for some time fervently turned over the leaves of the Koran, I
made a movement as if I had proposed to take part in the conversation.
When I had approached a few steps, I was met by honest Ilias and Hadji
Salih, who called me aside and told me that the Kervanbashi was making
many objections to my joining him on the journey to Khiva, my
appearance seeming suspicious to him; and he particularly feared the
anger of the Khan, as he had some years before {92} conducted a
Frenghi envoy to Khiva, who, in that single journey, took off a
faithful copy of the whole route, and with his diabolical art had not
forgotten to delineate any well or any hill on the paper. This had
very much incensed the Khan; he had had two men executed who had
betrayed information, and the Kervanbashi himself had only escaped
with his life owing to the intercession of influential persons. 'After
many objections,' said my friends, 'that we could not leave thee here
behind in the desert, we have so far prevailed with him that he will
take thee with him on the condition that thou wilt, first, permit
thyself to be searched to see if thou hast any drawings or wooden pens
(lead pencils), as the Frenghis generally have; and secondly that thou
promise to take away with thee no secret notes respecting the hills
and routes, for in the contrary case thou must remain behind, were we
even in the midst of the desert.'
I heard all with the greatest patience, and, when they had finished, I
played the part of one very angry, turned round to Hadji Salih, and,
speaking so loud that the Kervanbashi could not fail to hear, said:
'Hadji, thou sawest me in Teheran and knowest who I am; tell Amandurdi
(the name of the chief of our karavan) that it was by no means
becoming in him as an honest man to lend ear to a drunken Binamaz (one
who does not repeat his prayers) like the Afghan. We must not jest
with religion, and he shall never again have an opportunity to assail
one in so dangerous a particular; for he shall learn in Khiva to know
with whom he has to deal.' The last words uttered with great violence,
so as to be heard through the whole karavan, caused my colleagues,
particularly the poorer ones, to grow very warm, and had I {93} not
restrained them they would have assailed Emir Mehemmed, the malicious
Afghan. The person most surprised by this zeal of theirs was the
Kervanbashi himself; and I heard how he always contrived to repeat, in
answer to the very different representations that were made to him,
the same words, 'Khudaïm bilir!' (God knows!) He was an extremely
honest, good-humoured man, an Oriental however, disposed, not so much
out of malice as fondness for mysteries, to discover in me, any how
and at all events, a stranger in disguise; and this, although he
allowed himself on the one side to receive instruction from me in many
a point of religion, and even in Gömüshtepe had heard that I was
acquainted with many books. My artful manoeuvre had, as I have said,
diminished my danger; but I still saw to my great regret that the
injurious suspicion increased with every step, and that I should have
the greatest difficulty in talking even the shortest notes of my
journey. I was very much annoyed at not daring to put any questions as
to the names of the different stations; for however immense the
desert, the nomads inhabiting the various oases have affixed a
specific designation to every place, every hill, and every valley, so
that if exactly informed I might have marked each place on the map of
Central Asia. Cunning has to be employed against cunning, and the
scanty notices which I have been able to collect respecting the route
is the fruit of an artifice with which I will not weary the reader.
What bitter disappointment, what annoyance, must not the traveller
feel who, after having through long struggles and great perils reached
at length the fountain he longs for, cannot even then slake his
thirst!
{94}
[Eid Mehemmed and his Brother's noble Conduct]
After the lapse of eight hours, we again set out; but our march, after
having proceeded without interruption for two hours, gradually
slackened. Some of the Turkomans dismounted, and occupied themselves
busily to the right and to the left in carefully examining the smaller
hills. As I learnt afterwards, one of our travelling companions, Eid
Mehemmed, was desirous of discovering the tomb of his brother, who had
fallen here in a combat the previous year. He had also brought a
coffin with him to transport the corpse to Khiva. It may have been
about two o'clock in the afternoon when we stopped. They found the
grave, and applied themselves to the task of opening it. After having
laid the half-putrid body in the coffin and packed it in felt,
accompanying the operation with recitations of the usual prayers and
citations from the Koran, in which I also had to take my part, we were
treated with the details of the combat by an eye-witness. The
intention of this man was to do honour to the departed, for praise
such as he bestowed none but the noblest of men could deserve. 'We had
in our karavan,' said the speaker, 'several Persians, journeying from
Khiva to Astrabad, and amongst them there was a very wealthy merchant,
named Mollah Kaszim, from the city last named. He had for years been
engaged in the traffic carried on between Persia and Khiva, and,
having constant occasion to visit the latter country, was the guest of
the deceased, and consequently under the safeguard of his hospitality,
both in Khiva and in the desert. It so happened that last year he was
returning home with a large sum of money, and although dressed as a
Turkoman, and perfectly familiar with our language, his presence
amongst us was detected by the Haramzadeh (bastards) of Etrek. They
hastened to meet {95} and assail us. In number they were superior, but
in spite of that we maintained a combat that lasted eight hours. After
we had killed two of their number, they called to us to surrender the
fat Persian dog, thereby meaning Mollah Kaszim, and that the fight
would be at an end, for that they wanted nothing from us. That no one
of us, still less the departed one, was disposed to consent to this,
may readily be imagined; and although the Persian himself, who feared
the balls hissing about in all directions, begged that the fighting
might be put an end to, and was desirous of surrendering himself as a
prisoner, the battle had to be fought out. Soon afterwards _he_' (and
he pointed to the corpse) 'was pierced by a bullet. He fell from his
horse, and the few words that he was able to utter were to the effect
that he commended his guest, the Persian, who was sobbing all the time
like a child with terror, to his brother Eid Mehemmed. Under the
leadership of the latter we continued the contest till the morning,
when the robbers retreated, with loss. After having buried the
deceased here, we travelled on, and three days afterwards the Persian
was conducted to Astrabad.'
[Guide loses his Way]
In commemoration of the sad event, Eid Mehemmed had bread baked here
also, which he shared amongst us. We then started, keeping to the
north, and proceeding through a great sterile plain. To make up for
our loss of time we were obliged to journey the whole night without
interruption. The weather was lovely, and, cowering in my basket, I
long amused myself with the beautiful starry heavens, more beautiful
and more sublime in the desert than anywhere else. I was at last
overcome by sleep. Perhaps I had scarcely reposed an hour, when I was
harshly roused {96} from my slumber, and heard on all sides the cry,
'Hadji, look to thy Kiblenuma (compass), we seem to have lost our
way.' I awoke, and saw by the light of a piece of burning tinder that
we were going in an easterly direction, instead of a northerly. The
Kervanbashi, alarmed, fearing our vicinity to the dangerous marshes,
issued the command that we should not stir from the spot till the dawn
of day. Luckily we had only swerved from the right course about
half-an-hour previously, at a moment when the sky was overcast. In
despite of the delay we reached the appointed station, and our wearied
beasts were let loose to make their meal upon the thorns and thistles.
In the spot where we were encamped I saw with astonishment that my
companions collected a great number of carrots, half a foot long, of
the thickness of the thumb, and particularly well-flavoured and sweet.
The inner part, however, was as hard as wood, and was uneatable, as
was also the wild garlic, which we found here in large quantities. I
seized the opportunity of giving myself a feast, boiling a good
portion of carrots for my breakfast, and storing away a quantity in my
girdle.
To-day (May 15) our way passed through a wild district cut up with
ditches. I heard it said that each journey it assumes a different
form, and presents different difficulties from the numerous steep
places.
The poor camels, some of them laden with very heavy burdens, suffered
exceedingly--the dry sand giving way under their feet; so that having
continually to mount and descend, they could hardly get a firm
footing. It is remarkable that it is the custom here to fasten their
annuals with a cord, one end of which is attached to the tail of the
creature that precedes, the other to the {97} perforated nose of the
one that follows; and it is very painful to see how, as they are all
so bound together, if one of the beasts in the line stands still a
moment, the line in front continues to move on till the cord is torn
away from the animal behind, who suffers thereby dreadful torture. To
spare the poor animals we all dismounted where the route was bad, as
to-day; and although my sufferings were great in the deep sand, I was
forced to walk on foot four hours, although slowly, still without a
halt. Plodding on thus, I several times came in contact with the
Kervanbashi, who, after my last spirited conduct, loaded me with
politeness; his nephew, a young frank-hearted Turkoman from Khiva,
seemed to be particularly fond of my society. He had not seen his
young wife since the year before, and his conversation always turned
upon his Ova (tent), as the rules of Islamite politeness obliged him
to name the object of his affections. [Footnote 21] Khali Mollah
(this was his name) reposed the fullest confidence in my character as
a Dervish. I was very much surprised when he requested me to search in
my Koran a Fal or prognostic regarding his family. I made the usual
hocus pocus, shut my eyes, and fortunately opened the book at a place
where women are spoken of (for the passages Mumenin and Mumenat
frequently recur), in which my explanation of the Arabian text--for
here is the whole art--enchanted the young Turkoman. He thanked me,
and I was delighted to find that I had won his friendship.
[Footnote 21: According to the precepts of Islam, it is very
unbecoming to speak of one's wife, metaphors are used to express the
idea, where the whole is taken to designate the part (_totum pro
parte_). Accordingly, the Turk in society names his wife Harem,
_Familia_; Tcholuk Tschodjuck; the Persian terms her Khane or Ayal ü
avlad, the former expression meaning house, the latter wife's child;
the Turkoman, Ova; the central Asiatic, Balachaka, meaning
children.]
{98}
Up to the present moment it was not clear which of the three ways the
karavan would follow. The concealment of plan is in this country
especially necessary, as one is never a single moment safe from
surprise; and although nothing was said, it was still plain to all
that the middle way would be chosen, for our water supply was running
short, and necessity would force us, on the morrow at latest, to make
for a well, which is only accessible provided peaceable relations
permit the Yomut shepherd to penetrate thither from Ataboz. Our
evening march was a successful one; the camel-chain was not often rent
asunder, or if any such accident occurred it was observed before the
lapse of many minutes, and men were sent back to look up the missing
animals. The karavan continued its march; and in order that the
individual sent out in the dark night might not lose his way, one of
the followers of the karavan had the particular duty assigned to him
of holding with the other a dialogue at a distance, so that the words,
which echoed sadly in the gloomy night, served as a guide; and yet woe
to the wretch in case a contrary wind renders the sound inaudible!
[Körentaghi, Ancient Ruins, probably Greek.]
The next morning (May 16) we discovered, in a north-easterly
direction, the mountainous chain called the Körentaghi. The
buffalo-cow, near her time, compelled us all to adopt a slow pace, and
it was afternoon before we approached close enough to be able to
distinguish the outline of the lower part of the mountain. When in
Etrek, we had heard that this was the spot where, on account of the
prevailing sentiments in favour of peace, we should meet Yomuts; still
they {99} were not perfectly assured, and the greatest anxiety existed
to know whether the news of a peace would be confirmed, or whether, in
case the mountains were abandoned, we might not be surprised by some
hostile horde. A courageous Turkoman was sent on to ascertain how
matters stood, and his progress was watched by all with anxious eyes.
Fortunately, as we approached, the different tents were distinguished,
the alarm was dissipated, and the only desire was, to learn to what
tribe the encampment belonged. Whilst my fellow-travellers amused
themselves with the view of the Körentaghi and its green valleys, my
heart beat within me for joy, as I believed that I was approaching
ruins, probably of Greek origin, which extended in a westerly
direction from the above-named mountain. At the moment when the latter
became visible, I had remarked to the south-west a single pillar,
which from the distance produced upon the eye the effect of an
animated colossal figure. As we mounted the plateau higher and higher
I discerned, in the same direction, a second column, somewhat thicker
than the former, but not so elevated, and now close to the mountain. I
had the ruins, known as the Meshedi Misriyan, so near to me on the
left that I was able even to distinguish the particular parts with
precision. As none but Yomuts were encamped here, it was resolved to
make it a rest-day, and to employ it for the purchase of some camels.
This accorded fully with my own wish, as it afforded me the
opportunity of beholding the ruins from a closer proximity.
The next morning (May 17) I started, accompanied by Ilias and some of
the pilgrims. I was obliged to use many pretexts to induce the latter
to visit a spot which they would have preferred avoiding {100} as the
abode of Djins (genii). It was distant about half a league from our
encampment, although the high walls of the square building, as well as
the two entire and the two half-ruined towers in form of domes, seemed
to be nearer to us. Around these, and encircling the high wall, from
six to eight feet broad and from forty to fifty high, there is a lower
one, on the south side, quite in ruins, which must have served as an
outwork to the fort, still erect; I regard the entire construction, as
it rises amongst the other heaps of dilapidation, as a fortress of
ancient date; and I think, to complete its system of defence, its
builders must have formed the aqueduct, which runs in a south-westerly
direction as far as the Persian chain of mountains, whence it brought
hither to the fortress water, for drinking purposes, a distance of 150
English miles.
My acquaintance with archaeology and architecture being limited, I
admit my incompetency to form any precise judgment respecting ruins,
certainly of high interest, except that I believe myself justified in
affirming them to be of Greek origin, because I have found the square
bricks which compose them to resemble exactly, in quality, size, and
colour, those of Gömüshtepe, and the Kizil Alan (Alexander's wall).
[Footnote 22]
[Footnote 22: The Turkomans recounted, with respect to the ruins,
that God, from especial love to the brave Turkomans, had placed the
Kaaba first here instead of transporting it to Arabia, but that a
green devil, who was at the same time lame, named Gökleng (green
hobbler) from whom the Göklens were descended, had destroyed it.
'The insolent act of their ancestor is the reason,' added the savage
etymologist, 'why we live in hostility with that tribe.']
{101}
Besides these, I remarked a group of other ruins on the north summit
of the Körentaghi. We passed them by night, and as far as I could
distinguish in the obscurity, there are six separate dome-like chapels
still standing.
To-day our karavan was visited by crowds of the nomads dwelling on the
spot. Some business was transacted, and bargains struck between the
merchants and cattle-dealers of our karavan, and upon credit, too.
They applied to me to draw up in writing their cheques. I was
surprised to find that the debtor, instead of handing over his
signature to tranquillise his creditor, put it into his own pocket;
and this was the Turkoman way of arranging the whole business. When I
questioned the creditor as to this remarkable manner of procedure, his
answer was, 'What have I to do with the writing? The debtor must keep
it by him as a reminder of his debt.'
In the evening, when we were ready to start, an event took place, for
Madame Buffalo did us the honour of increasing our number by the
addition of a healthy little calf, a subject of supreme delight to the
Kervanbashi; and not until we were actually on the route, did it occur
to him that the poor little calf was not strong enough to accompany
our march on foot, and that he must search for a more commodious place
for it on one of the camels. As the only kedjeve was the one occupied
by Hadji Bilal and myself, all eyes were directed to us. We were asked
to cede our place to the new-born calf. My friend was cunning enough
at once to evince his readiness to be of service, with the observation
that he would, out of friendship to me, whose lameness rendered me
less easy to accommodate with a seat, vacate his own, and content
himself with any exchange. Hardly had he surrendered his place to the
young calf, than the extremely disagreeable smell of my new
_vis-à-vis_ betrayed to me the real {102} motive of my friend. By
night it was endurable, as my slumbers were only disturbed by the
frequent bleating of the calf; but in the daytime, particularly when
the heat was very great, my situation became intolerable. Happily my
torments did not last long, for the calf succumbed the second day of
its ride through the desert.
[Little and Great Balkan]
From this day (May 18) we reckoned two days to the Great Balkan, and
thence twelve days to Khiva (altogether fourteen days). During the
whole time we should come to only four wells of bitter salt water, and
should not encounter a single living human being.
As we were still in the middle of May, our leader hoped to find in the
lone places some rain-water (called kák). We had filled our skins with
dirty water from the miserable cistern at Körentaghi. The jolting on
the backs of the camels had changed it into something very like mud,
having a most nauseous taste, and yet we were obliged to make a very
sparing use of it, for there was no hope of finding kák until we
reached a station on the other side of the Great Balkan.
Our march, as we were now every day more inured to its hardships,
began to assume great regularity. We made usually every day three
halts, each of an hour and a half or two hours: the first before
sunrise, when we made our bread for the whole day; the second at noon,
to give man and beast the indulgence of a little repose from the
scorching heat; and the third before sunset, to devour our scanty
supper, consisting of the oft-mentioned bread and water, every drop of
which we had to count. My friends, as well as the Turkomans, had with
them supplies of sheep-fat. This they ate with their bread, and
offered to me, but I was {103} careful not to partake of it, from the
conviction that nothing but the greatest moderation could diminish the
torments of thirst, and harden one to endure fatigue. The district we
were now traversing consisted of a firm clay bottom, only producing
here and there a few wretched plants, and forming for the most part
barren ground, in which crevices, like veins, extended beyond the
reach of the eye, and offered the most variegated picture. And yet how
this eternal sadness of plain, from which every trace of life is
banished, wearies the traveller; and what an agreeable change he finds
when, arriving at the station, he is permitted to rest a few minutes
from the wave-like movements of the camel!
The next morning (May 19) we discovered something like a dark blue
cloud towards the north. It was the Little Balkan, which we were to
reach the next day, of the height, beauty, and mineral wealth of which
the Turkomans gave me such long accounts. Unfortunately, this very
night, our generally so wakeful Kervanbashi was overtaken with sleep,
and the guide at the head of the line of camels brought us into a
position of such jeopardy that it nearly cost us all our lives. For it
is necessary to mention that at the foot of the Little Balkan there
are many of those dangerous salt morasses, covered with a thick white
crust, which are not distinguishable from the firm ground in their
vicinity, as all is covered in the same proportion with layers of salt
of the thickness of a finger. We had advanced in that direction until
the camels, by their footing giving way under them, in spite of all
encouragement, were brought to a standstill. We sprang down, and judge
of my alarm when I felt, although standing upon the earth, as if I
were {104} in a moving boat. The consternation was general. The
Kervanbashi shouted out that every one should stop where he was, for
it was idle to think of extricating ourselves until daybreak. The
strong smell of soda was insupportable; and we were forced to wait
three hours, till the first beams of the 'aurora liberatrix' should
shine forth. The movement in the backward direction was attended with
many difficulties; but we were all glad, for Heaven had been gracious
to us, as, had we only advanced a little farther, we might have
reached a place where the earth had no consistence, and might have
swallowed up a part or perhaps the whole karavan. Such, at all events,
was the expressed opinion of the Turkomans.
It was ten o'clock on the morning of the 20th of May when we reached
the Little Balkan. It stretched from the south-west to the north-east.
We discovered also the feebly-defined promontory belonging to the
Great Balkan, running parallel with the former range. The Little
Balkan, at the foot of which we encamped, forms an almost
uninterrupted chain of mountains of equal elevation, for a distance of
about twelve miles. It is not perhaps so barren and naked as those in
Persia, it yields grass in some places, and in the rest has a
bluish-green colour. Its height, measured by the eye, seems about
3,000 feet.
Our route this day and the next morning (May 21) continued to pass
along its side; about evening we reached the foot of the promontory of
the Great Balkan. Although I could only see a part of this close, I
yet perceived the propriety of the appellation that distinguished it;
for on an average, as far as the eye can reach, it has greater
circumference and greater height. We found ourselves on a branch
stretching {105} in an easterly direction. The Great Balkan, properly
so called, runs towards the shore of the Caspian, having nearly a
north-easterly direction. According to what I heard in Khiva and
amongst the Turkomans, it must be rich in precious minerals; but the
fact cannot be relied upon without the opinion of competent judges.
Taken altogether, the spot where we encamped this evening was not
without its charms; for, as the setting sun projected its rays upon
the lovely valleys of the Little Balkan, one could almost fancy
oneself actually in a mountainous district. The view might even be
characterised as beautiful; but then the idea of a fearful desolation,
the immense abandonment, which covers the whole, as it were, with a
veil of mourning! We turn fearfully to see whether the next moment our
eye may not encounter some strange human face that will oblige us to
grasp our weapon, for every human being encountered in the desert must
be met with ready arms.
An hour after sunset the start was determined upon. The Kervanbashi
pointed out to us that from this point the true desert began; that,
although we had all the appearance of being experienced travellers,
still he considered it not unprofitable to remark that, as far as
possible, we should avoid speaking loudly, or uttering any cry by day
or night; and that henceforth we should each bake his bread before
sunset, as no one here ought to light a fire by night for fear of
betraying his position to an enemy; and finally that we should, in our
prayers, constantly implore Amandjilik for security, and in the hour
of danger we should not behave like women.
{106}
Some swords, a lance, and two guns were divided amongst us; and as I
was regarded as one having most heart, I received fire-arms and a
tolerable provision of powder and bail. I must openly avow that all
these preparations did not seem to me calculated to inspire much
confidence.
[Ancient Bed of the Oxus]
After leaving the Balkan my compass permitted me no longer to doubt,
in spite of all attempts at concealment, our having taken the middle
route. In Körentaghi we had received intelligence that fifty
Karaktchi, of the tribe of Tekke, were prowling about in the vicinity
of the mountains; but the Kervanbashi seemed only so far influenced by
the information as to give a wide berth to the wells and station
called Djenak kuyusu, the water of which is besides very salt, so that
no camel would touch it unless it had been without water for three
days. It may have been about midnight--we had gone about two miles,
and had reached a steep declivity--when the word was given that we
should all dismount, for we were in the Döden (as the nomads of the
district name the ancient bed of the Oxus), and the storms and the
rains of the last winter had now entirely washed away all traces of
the route which had been tolerably well defined the year before. We
cut across the ancient channel of the river in a crooked line, in
order to find a way out on to the opposite bank, the steeper one; it
was not till break of day that we contrived, with great fatigue, to
reach the high plateau. The nomads in their fables seek to connect the
ancient bed of the Oxus with the ruins of Meshedi Misriyan, and
declare that the Oxus formerly flowed near the walls of the edifice
designed for the Kaaba, and that, at a later period, incensed at the
sins of the Göklens, the river turned to the north.
{107}
The more the Balkan disappeared in the blue clouds in our rear, the
greater and more awful became the majesty of the boundless desert. I
had before been of opinion that the desert can only impress the mind
with an idea of sublimity where both fancy and enthusiasm concur to
give colouring and definiteness to the picture. But I was wrong. I
have seen in the lowlands of my own beloved country a miniature
picture of the desert; a sketch of it, too, on a larger scale, later,
when I traversed, in Persia, a part of the salt desert (Deschti
Kuvir): but how different the feelings which I here experienced! No;
it is not the imagination, as men falsely suppose, it is nature
itself, that lights the torch of inspiration. I often tried to
brighten the dark hues of the wilderness by picturing, in its
immediate vicinity, cities and stirring life, but in vain; the
interminable hills of sand, the dreadful stillness of death, the
yellowish-red hue of the sun at rising and setting, yes, everything
tells us that we are here in a great, perhaps in the greatest, desert
on the surface of our globe!
About mid-day (May 22) we encamped near Yeti Siri, so named from the
seven wells formerly existing here; from three of these a very salt
bad-smelling water can still be obtained, but the other four are
entirely dried up. As the Kervanbashi expressed a hope of our finding
this evening some rain-water--although what remained in my skin was
more like mud, I would not exchange it for the bitter, nauseous fluid
of these wells, out of which the camels were made to drink and some of
my fellow-travellers made their provisions. I was astonished to see
how the latter vied with their four-footed brethren in drinking; they
laughed at my counsels to be abstemious, but had later occasion to rue
their having slighted them.
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[Vendetta]
After a short halt we again started, passing by a hill higher than the
rest of the sand-hills; upon the former we saw two empty kedjeve. I
was told that the travellers who had been seated therein had perished
in the desert, and that everything that had held men was respected
amongst the Turkomans, and its destruction regarded as a sin. Singular
superstition! Men sold to slavery and lands laid waste regarded as
acts of virtue, and a wooden basket held in honour because men have
once been seated in it! The desert and its inhabitants are really
singular and extraordinary. The reader will be still more surprised
when I relate to him what we witnessed this same evening. When it
became cooler I dismounted with the Kervanbashi and some other
Turkomans, in search of some rain-water that we hoped to find. We were
all armed, and each went in a different direction. I followed the
Kervanbashi; and we had advanced perhaps forty steps, when the latter
observed some traces in the sand, and in great astonishment exclaimed,
'Here there must be men.' We got our muskets ready, and, guided by the
track, that became clearer and clearer, we at last reached the mouth
of a cave. As from the prints in the sand we could infer that there
was but a single man, we soon penetrated into the place, and I saw,
with indescribable horror, a man--half a savage, with long hair and
beard, clad in the skin of a gazelle--who, no less astonished, sprang
up and with levelled lance rushed upon us. Whilst I was contemplating
the whole scene with the greatest impatience, the features of my guide
showed the most imperturbable composure. When he distinguished the
half-savage man, he dropped the end of his weapon, and murmuring in a
low voice, 'Amanbol' (peace be unto thee!) he {109} quitted the
horrible place. 'Kanli dir, he is one who has blood upon his head,'
exclaimed the Kervanbashi, without my having ventured to question him.
It was not till later that I learnt that this unhappy man, fleeing
from a righteous _vendetta_, had been for years and years, summer and
winter, wandering round the desert; man's face he must not, he dares
not, behold! [Footnote 23]
[Footnote 23: The 'vendetta' is here even tolerated by religion! and
I was eye-witness in Etrek to an occurrence where a son, in the
presence of his mother, avenged the death of his father, that had
taken place eight years before, by shooting his step-father, who had
married her, and who it appeared had been an accomplice. It was very
characteristic that the people who were present at his interment
condoled with the mother, and at the same time felicitated the son
on the act of piety which he had accomplished.]
[Illustration]
Wild man in the desert.
[Sufferings from Thirst.]
Troubled at the sight of this poor sinner, I sighed to think that, in
the search after sweet water, we had discovered only traces of blood.
My companions returned also without having been successful, and the
thought made me shudder that this evening I should swallow the last
dregs of the 'sweet slime.' Oh! (thought I) water, dearest of all
elements, why did I not earlier appreciate thy worth? Man uses thy
blessing like a spendthrift! Yes, in my country man fears thee even;
and now what would I give could I only obtain thirty or twenty drops
of thy divine moisture!
I ate only a few bits of bread, which I moistened in hot water, for I
heard that in boiling it loses its bitter flavour. I was prepared to
endure all until we could meet with a little rain-water--I was
terrified by the condition of my companions all suffering from violent
diarrhoea. Some Turkomans, especially the Kervanbashi, were much
suspected of having concealed some of the necessary liquid; but who
dared to speak out his thought when every design upon his {110}
water-skin would be considered as a design upon the life of its owner,
and when a man would have been regarded as out of his senses who
should have asked another for a loan of water or present of water?
This evening my appetite left me. I had not the slightest craving even
for the smallest piece of bread: my sensations were those of extreme
debility; the heat of the day was indescribable. My strength was gone,
and I was lying there extended, when I perceived that all were
pressing round the Kervanbashi; they made a sign to me also to
approach. The words 'Water, water,' gave me fresh vigour. I sprang up;
how overjoyed and how surprised I was when I saw the Kervanbashi
dealing out to each member of the karavan about two glasses of the
precious liquid. The honest Turkoman told us that for years it had
been his practice in the desert to keep concealed a considerable
quantity, and this he doled out when he knew that it would be most
acceptable; that this would be a great Sevab (act of piety), for a
Turkoman proverb says, 'That a drop of water to the man thirsty in the
wilderness washes away a hundred years' sins.'
It is as impossible to measure the degree of the benefit as to
describe the enjoyment of such a draught! I felt myself fully
satisfied, and imagined that I could again hold out three days! The
water had been replenished, but not my bread. Debility and want of
appetite had rendered me somewhat careless, and I thought that I could
employ for firing, not the wood which was at a little distance, but
the camels' dung. I had not collected enough. I placed the dough in
the hot ashes, and it was not till after half an hour that I
discovered the insufficiency of the heat. I hastened {111} to fetch
wood, which I set on fire; it was now dark, and the Kervanbashi called
out to me, demanding, 'if I wanted to betray the karavan to the
robbers.' So I was obliged to extinguish the fire, and to remove my
bread, which was not only not leavened, but was only half baked.
The next morning, May 23, our station was Koymat Ata. It had formerly
a well, now dried up; no great loss, for the water, like that from all
the other wells in the district, was undrinkable. Unfortunately the
heat, particularly in the forenoon, was really unendurable. The rays
of the sun often warm the dry sand to the depth of a foot, and the
ground becomes so hot, that even the wildest inhabitant of Central
Asia, whose habits make him scorn all covering for the feet, is forced
to bind a piece of leather under his soles, in the form of a sandal.
What wonder if my refreshing draught of yesterday was forgotten, and I
saw myself again a prey to the most fearful torments of thirst! At
mid-day the Kervanbashi informed us that we were now near the renowned
place of pilgrimage and station named Kahriman Ata, and that to fulfil
our pious duty we should dismount and walk on foot a quarter of an
hour to the tomb of the saint. Let the reader picture to himself my
sufferings. Weak and enfeebled from heat and thirst, I was forced to
quit my seat, and join the procession of pilgrims, to march to a tomb
situated on an elevation, at a distance of fifteen minutes' walk,
where, with parched throat, I was expected to bellow forth telkin and
passages from the Koran, like one possessed. 'Oh! (thought I) thou
cruel saint, couldst thou not have got thyself interred elsewhere, to
spare me the terrible martyrdom of this pilgrimage?' Quite out of
{112} breath, I fell down before the tomb, which was thirty feet long,
and ornamented with rams' horns, the signs of supremacy in Central
Asia. The Kervanbashi recounted to us that the saint who therein
reposed was a giant as tall as his grave was long; [Footnote 24]
that he had for countless years past defended the wells around from
the attacks of evil spirits that sought to fill them up with stones.
In the vicinity, several small graves are visible, the last
resting-places of poor travellers, who in different parts of the
desert have perished from the hands of robbers or from the fury of the
elements. The news of wells under the protection of the saint
overjoyed me. I hoped to find water that I could drink. I hastened so
much that I really was the first to reach the place indicated. I soon
perceived the well, which was like a brown puddle. I filled my hands;
it was as if I had laid hold of ice. I raised the moisture to my lips.
Oh! what a martyrdom! not a drop could I swallow--so bitter, so salt,
so stinking, was the ice-cold draught. My despair knew no bounds: it
was the first time that I really felt anxiety for the result.
[Footnote 24: The Orientals love to dignify their saints also with
the attribute of bodily size. In Persia I have remarked several
giant graves; and even in Constantinople, on the Asiatic shore of
the Bosphorus, on the so-called Mount of Joshua, exists a long tomb
which the Turks venerate as that of the Joshua of the Bible, but the
Greeks as that of Hercules.]
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