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THE     MEEV     OASIS 


TRAVELS  AND  ADVENTURES  EAST  OF  THE  CASPIAN 
DURING  THE  YEARS  1879-80-81 


INCLUDING 


FIVE   MONTHS'  RESIDENCE   AMONG  THE   TEKKES   OF  MEBV 


BY 

EDMOND    O'DONOVAN 

SPECIAL    CORBB3PONDBNT    OF    THE     'DAILY    HIWI* 


SKrt|j  gjoiinrii,  paps,  wxb  <facsimil*s  of  Slate  £)oaratettts 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES 

VOL.  I. 


^NEW  YORK 

G.   P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
27  and  29  West  23d  Street 

1883. 


&u,3**// 


I  **X. 


1>   tn/C  - 


TO 

J.  E.  ROBINSON,   ESQ. 

Of  the  •  Daily  Newt* 

WITHOUT    WHOflB    SUGGESTION    THB    TBAVBL8    NARRATED    IN   THB8E 
VOLUMES   WOULD    NOT    HAVB    BEEN    UNDERTAKEN,    AND    BUT 

» 

FOB   WHOSE    GENEROUS    SUPPOBT   THBT    WOULD    NEVER 
HAVB    BEEN    BROUGHT    TO    A    SUCCESSFUL   ISSUE 


l|jis  88orh  is  Jlebitattfc 


BT      HIS      OBLIGED      FBIBND 

THB  AUTHOR 


PEEFAOE. 


These  pages  contain  a  simple  record  of  my  wander- 
ings around  and  beyond  the  Caspian,  including  a  five 
months'  residence  at  Merv,  during  the  three  years 
1879-1881.  I  had  at  first  purposed  confining  my 
narrative  to  Merv  itself  and  its  immediate  surround- 
ings ;  but  my  friends  suggested  that  it  would  in  such 
case  be  too  circumscribed  in  scope,  and  not  fully  ap- 
preciable by  those  who  had  not  previously  paid  con- 
siderable attention  to  Central  Asian  matters.  Accord- 
ingly, I  have  related  my  experiences  of  the  Eussian 
settlements  on  the  Eastern  Caspian  littoral,  and 
touched  very  slightly  upon  the  military  operations 
directed  against  the  Akhal  TekfoS  tribes  and  their 
stronghold  at  Geok  Tep&  I  have  also  entered  into 
the  border  relations  existing  between  Eussians,  Tur- 
comans, and  Persians,  in  order  that  the  subsequent 
description  of  the  attitude  of  the  Merv  Turcomans 
might  be  the  better  understood.  The  main  interest 
of  the  book,  however,  centres  in  that  portion  of  it 
which  relates  to  Merv  itself ;  and  in  narrating  what  I 


viii  PREFACE. 

have  to  say  about  that  place  and  its  people,  I  have, 
as  far  as  possible,  sought  to  confine  myself  to  what  I 
actually  saw  and  heard  among  them.  All  information 
contained  in  these  volumes  relative  to  the  oasis  and  its 
population  is  derived  directly  from  the  fountain-head ; 
and  I  have  carefully  abstained  from  quoting  the  recol- 
lections and  opinions  of  other  writers.  Apart  from 
pure  narrative,  the  reader  will  occasionally  meet  with 
some  expressions  of  opinion  as  to  future  political  pos- 
sibilities, and  an  appreciation  of  the  present  and 
coming  military  situation. 

The  Oriental  documents  added  in  the  Appendix 
will  serve  as  examples  of  the  caligraphy  and  epi- 
stolary style  of  the  country,  and  will  at  the  same 
time  show  the  nature  of  the  aspirations  and  ideas  of 
the  chiefs,  as  well  as  the  estimation  in  which  I  was 
myself  held  when  I  quitted  their  territory.  The 
general  map  is  based  upon  that  published,  in  con- 
nection with  ihe  report  of  his  travels  in  North- 
Eastern  Khorassan,  by  lieutenant-Colonel  C.  E. 
Stewart.  On  this  I  have  grafted  my  own  correc- 
tions, and  ray  surveys  of  the  territory  lying  eastward 
of  the  point  at  which  his  travels  in  the  Attok 
ceased,  viz.  near  Abiverd.  The  plan  of  the  Merv 
oasis  and  its  water  system  is  purely  original,  and,  as 
far  as  I  am  aware,  the  first  ever  based  on  an  actual 
survey.  Of  the  plan  showing  the  old  cities  and  their 
relative  positions  the  same  is  to  be  said. 


PREFACE,  ix 

I  have  on  every  possible  occasion  introduced 
illustrative  anecdote  and  personal  adventure,  not 
only  to  lighten  the  general  narrative,  but  also  as  the 
best  possible  method  of  conveying  to  my  readers 
the  nature  of  the  surroundings  amidst  which  I  was 
placed,  and  the  character  of  the  people  with  whom 
I  had  to  deal ;  but  the  space  allotted  to  me  for  the 
description  of  three  years'  experiences  scarcely 
allows  me  the  latitude  I  could  have  desired  in  this 
regard.  Still,  as  a  record  of  the  almost  unique 
circumstances  in  which  I  was  placed,  I  trust  that 
the  following  pages  will  meet  with  the  indulgence, 
if  not  with  the  approval,  of  the  reading  public. 

E.  0'D. 


CONTENTS 

OP 

THE    FIRST    VOLUME, 


CHAPTER  I. 

FROM  TBEBIZOKD  TO  THE  CASPIAN. 

FAG! 

Trebisond  to  Batonm — Poti — Delays  in  landing — Eion  river — Turcoman 
pilgrims — Railroad — Tiflis — Life  in  Tiflis — Travelling  by  troika — De- 
scription of  vehicle — Easterly  plains — Camel  trains — Wild  pigeons — 
Post-houses — Samovar  and  tea-drinking — 'Across  country' — Troglo- 
dytic  dwellings — Wild  cats  and  boars — Fevers — Tartar  thieves- 
Tartar  ladies — Old  Persian  fortifications — Elizabethpol — Hotel  there 
— Limited  accommodation — TaUe-£KbU — Caviare— Prince  Chavcha- 
yasa — News  of  Trans-Caspian  Expedition — General  Lazareff— His 
history — Armenian  villages — Salt  incrustations — Automatic  raft  over 
Kur — Abandoned  Camels — Tartar  funeral — Tartar  tombstones — Cir- 
cassian horse-trappings — Waggons  from  Baku — Crossing  the  moun- 
tains—Bed-legged  partridges — Field  mice  and  ferrets — Shumakha — 
Xorezsafen — Obstinate  driver — First  sight  of  Baku  and  the  Caspian — 
Tartar  carts — Burden-bearing  bullocks — Petroleum  well-houses  of 
Balahane  and  Sulahane— Tying  up  troika  bells 


CHAPTER  II. 

BAKU. 

Baku — Apscheron  promontory — Country  round  Baku — Armenian  emi- 
grants from  Turkish  territory — Russian  town — Old  Baku — Anas** 
Tartar  town  — Old  fortifications  —  Citadel — Bazaars — Mosques- 
Palace  of  Tartar  Khans — Caspian  steamers — Municipal  garden — 
Mixed  population — Bazaar  held  in  aid  of  victims  of  Orenburg  fire — 


xii  contents  of  the  first  volume. 

FAOI 

National  costumes  and  types — Nature  of  population — Banished 
Christian  sects — Malakani  and  Scopts — Mercurius  Company — Rus- 
sian girls'  dress — Origin  of  name  of  Baku — Bituminous  dust — Laying 
it  with  astatki — Boring  for  petroleum — Distilling  and  purifying — 
Utilization  of  refuse  for  steamers — Probable  adaptation  to  railroads 
— Island  of  Tcheliken — Fire  temple— Guebre  fire-worship  .  .26 


CHAPTER  III. 

ACROSS  THE  CASPIAN  TO  TCHIKISLAB  AND  CHATTE. 

Interview  with  Lazareff— Voyage  to  Tchikislar — Reception  by  Turco- 
mans— Their  Costume  and  Dwellings — Fort  of  Tchikislar — Presents 
to  Yamud  chiefs — Akhal  Tekke  prisoners — Journey  to  Chatte — 
Russian  discipline — Rain  pools  and  mirage — Wild  asses  and  ante- 
lopes— Fort  of  Chatte — Atterek  and  Sumbar  rivers — Banks  of  the 
Atterek — Diary  of  Journey — Bouyun  Bache — Delilli — Bait  Hadji — 
Yaghli  Olum — Tekindji — Review  of  LazarefiTs  regiment — Flies  at 
Chatte — Tile  pavements — Remnants  of  old  civilization       .  .40 


CHAPTER  IV. 

KRASXAVODSK. 

Lazareff's  opinion  about  Tchikislar — Difficulties  of  traversing  desert — 
Chasing  wild  asses  and  antelopes — 'Drumhead'  dinner — A  Ehivan 
dandy — Desert  not  a  sandy  one — On  board  'Nasr  Eddin  Shah* 
corvette — En  route  for  Erasnavodsk — Gastronomic  halt — Zakouska — 
Russian  meal — Arrival  at  Erasnavodsk — Description  of  place — Dis- 
tillation of  sea-water — Club— Caspian  flotilla — Lieutenant  Sideroff — 
An  ex-pirate — Trans-Caspian  cable — Avowed  object  of  Akhal  Tekke 
expedition — Colonel  Malama's  explanation — A  Trans-Caspian  ball — 
Ehirgese  chiefs — Caucasian  horsemen — Military  sports — Lesghian 
dancing 60 


CHAPTER  V. 

KARA-BOGHAZ   SULPHUR  DI3TBICT. 

Gypsum  rocks — OS  jar — Natural  paraffin — Post  of  Ghoui-Bournak — 
Camelthorn  and  chiratan — Large  lizards — Ghoui-Sulmen — Nummu- 
litic  limestone — Salty  water — Method  of  drawing  it  up — Effect  of 
washing — Turcoman  smoking — Waiting  for  dawn — Shores  of  Eara- 
Boghaz— Searching  for  sulphur — Black  and  red  lava — Eukurt-Daghi 
— Ghoui-Eabyl — Argillaceous  sand — Turcoman  and  Ehirgese  horses 
— An  alarm  and  retreat — Back  to  Bournak 76 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME.  xiii 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A  TURKOMAN  RAID — A  VISIT  TO  TCHIKI8LAB. 

FAQS 

Turcomans  in  view — Preparing  to  attack — In  a  predicament — Retiring 
on  Krasnavodsk — General  panic — Lomakin'g  advance — Result  of 
skirmish — Russian  military  funeral— *A  trip  to  Tchikislar — Island 
of  Tcheliken — Demavend — Ak-Batlaouk  volcano — Difficulty  of  land- 
ing— Description  of  camp— Flies — Turcoman  prisoner — Release  of 
captive  Persian  women — Water  snakes — Stormy  voyage  to  Baku — 
Conversation  -with  Lazareff— Russian  recruits — Prince  Wittgenstein — 
Cossack  lieutenant's  story — Off  to  Tchikislar 87 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TCHIKISLAR  SKETCHES— ATTEREK  DELTA. 

Khirgese  and  Turcomans  at  Tchikislar — Cossack  and  Caucasian  horse- 
men— Peculiar  customs  with  regard  to  dress — Samad  Agha — The 
Shah's  cousin — Hussein  Bey  and  Kars — Nefess  Merquem — Turco- 
mans in  Russian  service — Camp  police — Tailless  camels — The  knout 
— Baghdad  muleteers — Decorating  soldiers — Camp  customs — Soldiers' 
games — Races — Tchikislar  bazaar — Night  alarm — The  pig  and  the 
pipe — Military  ideas  about  Asterabad — Turcoman  graves — Bouyun 
Bache — Foul  water — Smoking  out  the  flies — Horse  flies — Sefld 
Mahee— Abundance  of  fish — Running  down  partridges — Waterfowl 
and  eels — Wild  boar  hunting — Atterek  delta — Giurgen — Ak-Kala — 
A  Turcoman  and  his  captive  wife — LazarefFs  decision        •        .        .103 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

HASSAK-KOULI — DEATH  OF  LAZAREFF. 

Hassan-Kouli  lagoon — Incursions  of  sea-water — Old  piratical  station — 
Buried  melons — Turcoman  cemetery — Subsidence  of  graves — Ioyun- 
vuskha — Courtesy  of  the  desert — Turcoman  character — Battle  tombs 
— Turco-Celtic  derivations — Open-air  mosques — An  ex-corsair — Bad 
treatment  of  an  envoy — A  Turcoman  interior — A  native  dinner — 
Polite  attentions  —  Armenian  fishing-station  —  Deserted  Camel — 
Thirsty  sheep— Khirgese  and  Turcomans — Dysentery  at  Tchikislar — 
LazarefTs  illness  and  death — A  burial  at  sea — A  stormy  voyage- 
General  Tergukasoff— Back  to  Tchikislar  and  Chatte — Rainpools  in 
the  desert— Failing  camels — Commissariat  errors — Water-pits  .        .  128 


xiv  CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

FBOM  TCHIKISLAB  TO  A8TERABAD. 

Banished  from  Tchikislar — Colonel  Shelkovnikoff— Starting  for  the 
Atterek — A  night  at  Hassan- Konli — Turcoman  lady — Her  costume — 
Primitive  flour-mills — Ovens — Sulphide  of  iron  small-shot — Sea-birds 
— Grossing  the  Atterek  mouth — Sleighing  en  a  mud  bank — Across 
country — Nomad  shepherds — Goklan  Tepessi — A  dervish  moullah — 
An  usta-adam — Bird's-eye  view  of  delta — Burnt  reed-fields — Tame  and 
wild  ducks— The  Kisil-Alan — Pin-tailed  grouse — Ak-Kala — Altoun- 
tokmok — An  adventure  with  village  dogs — Crossing  the  Giurgen — 
Ata-bai — Village  of  NergistepA — Pomegranate  jungle— Kara-Su — 
Arrival  at  Asterahad — Shah  Abass*  causeway — Mr.  Churchill  .  143 

CHAPTER  X. 

AfiTERABAD. 

Seat  of  the  Ka^jars  of  Persia— Old  ramparts — Shah  Abass'  causeway — 
Wild  boars,  jackals,  &c.,  in  town — Atmospheric  indices — Anecdote 
of  Nadir  Shah — Streets — Bazaar — Grocers,  dyers,  gunsmiths,  &c. — 
Percussion  gunlocks — Felt  manufacture — Sun  screens — Public  story- 
teller— Turcomans  and  rice-dealers — Scarcity  of  grain  in  Mazanderan 
and  Ghilan — Turcomans  and  Arabs  in  bazaar — Returned  pilgrims — 
Persian  mourning — Old  Kadjar  palace — Enamelled  tiles — Rustam 
and  the  Div  Sefld — Russian  telegraphists  and  spoliation — '  Blue  china 
maniacs ' — Reflet  tnitalUqus — Theory  and  examples — Wild  boars  and 
Persian  servants — Anti-Koranic  cookery  at  British  Consulate — Re- 
sults— Persian  domestics — Nadir  Shah  and  his  descendants — Pensions 
and  employment — Title  of  Mirza — Intoxicating  bread  and  enchanted 
trees — Outskirts  of  Asterabad — Outlying  fort— View  from  its  summit  165 

CHAPTER  XI. 

FBOM   ASTERABAD  TO  OUHUSH  TEPtf — A   PEBSIAN  MILITARY  CAMP. 


Persians  and  Turcomans — Mutual  opinion — Persian  fortified  village 
Jungle — Depredations  of  wild  boars — Former  cultivation — Possibili- 
ties of  irrigation — Turbi,  or  saint's  tomb — Persian  entrenched  camp 
of  Ak  Imam — The  Kara-Su — Ancient  bridge — Inferior  Persian  arma- 
ment and  uniforms — Conversation  of  Mustapha  Khan  about  Tekkes 
Description  of  former — Veli  Khan  and  his  Mirza — Camp  music  and 
muezzim* — Persian  physician — Mediaeval  ideas — Absurd  conversa- 
tions— Position  of  Australia — Afghan  troopers — II  Geldi  Khan — 
Dangers  in  jungle — Tea,  water-pipes,  and  chess — Interfluvial  zone — 
General  insecurity — Turcomans'  opinion  about  Geok  Tepe — Giurgen 
river — Arrival  at  Gumush  Tep4 188 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME.  xv 


CHAPTER  XH. 

GUMUSH   TEP& 

PAGB 

Maritime  Turcomans — Luggers — Dug-out  canoes — Permanent  Turcoman 
settlements — Gumush  Tepe  mound — Old  town  of  Khorsib— Kizil 
Alan — Old  earth  mounds — Alexander's  wall — Former  palm  groves — 
Geldi  Khan — Turcoman  interior  —  Female  costume  —  Children's 
silver-mounted  caps — Turcoman  toilet — Occupations  and  dietary  of 
Turcomans — Tea  drinking — Economy  of  sugar — Absence  of  animal 
food — Fuel — Astatki  lamps — Tcheliken  salt — Yaghourt — Visit  to 
Tchildslar — Salt  plains — A  rebuff— Every-day  life  at  Gumush  Tope* 
— Makeshifts  against  rain — The  tenkis — Precautions  against  storm— 
A  rush  for  water 202 


CHAPTER  Xin 

LIFE   IN  THE   KIBITKAS. 

garage  dogs — Vambery's  house — Turcoman  want  of  ideas  about  time— 
Smoke — Sore  eyes — Conversation — Patients — Visiting  formalities — 
Turcoman  hospitality — Karakchi  thieves — Physical  types  of  Yamuds 
— A  Turcoman  belle — Nursing  children — Tekke  bugbears — Plurality 
of  wives — A  domestic  quarrel  and  its  consequences    ....  221 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SKETCHES  OF  GUMUSH  TEP& 

College  at  Gumush  Tepe — Professor  of  theology — Late  school  hours — 
Sunni  and  Shiia — Specimen  of  sectarian  hatred — The  white  fowl 
mystery  —  Fever — Hurried  burials  —  Mourning  rites  —  [Returning 
hadjis — Distinctive  marks — Trade  and  commerce — Tanning  sheep- 
skins—  Pomegranate  bark — Kusgun  and  yapundja  —  Erans  and 
tomans — Disputes  about  money — Turcoman  measures — Recreations 
—The  Turcomans  and  *  Punch '— Agha  Jik's  ideas— After  nightfall   .  287 


CHAPTER  XV. 

GUMUSH  TEP£  TO  ASTE&ABAD. 

General  Mouravieff— Night  scene  on  the  Giurgen — Embarking  for  Tchi- 

kislar — Wild  Fowl — Fishing    stations — At    sea — Wading    ashore 

Moullah  Dourdi — The  Grand  Hotel — Colonel    MhUfw^ — Discussion 
about  the  frontier — Timour  Beg— Banished  again — Back  to  Gumush 


xvi  CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 

PAGE 

Tepe— Smoking  apparatus — Beep  drinking  and  casuistry — An  un- 
necessary call — A  storm  sky — The  snow  tenkis — Effects  at  Kenar  Gas 
— The  plains  under  snow — On  the  road  to  Asterabad — Cattle  storm 
shelters — Dying  sheep— Testing  for  blood — Turcomans  camping — An 
improvised  vehicle — A  difficult  ford — A  camel  in  a  difficulty — Swollen 
streams — Large  mushrooms — Tortoises — Luxuriant  grass  growth — 
Suspected  Turcomans — Muddy  jungle — "Wild  boars    ....  254 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

BOUND  THE   PLAINS  BT  AK-KALA. 

A  troublesome  servant — Mehemedabad — Gamp  at  Nergis  Tep6 — Afghan 
escort — Cattle  scenting  blood — Porcupines — Offending  a  moullah — 
Bridge  over  Kara-Su — Old  town  of  Giurgen — Modern  fort — Seat  of 
Kadjar  family — Persian  artillerymen  and  sharpshooters — Ak-Kala 
bridge — Turcoman  medresseea — View  from  the  ramparts — Firing  at  a 
Turcoman — Persian  military  prestige— A  humorous  moullah — Verses 
on  a  mantelpiece— Paring  an  epistle — Banks  of  the  Giurgen — Camels 
shedding  winter  coats — Triple  chain  of  mounds — Oum  Shali — Phea- 
sants and  partridges — A  hungry  wolf — Lost  in  the  reed  brakes — 
Stranded  fish — Overflow  of  Giurgen — Curing  fish — Wood  turners — A 
Kurd  gallant — Matron's  indignation — Plans  for  the  future — Russian 
threats — Saddling  for  Asterabad — Dangers  of  the  road — Goklan  *  no 
tax '  movement — Putrescent  fish — A  mutual  misunderstanding — Wild 
boars  and  jackals — Passage  of  swollen  Giurgen  by  cattle — Lunch  with 
the  nomads — Victims  of  the  tenkis — Arrival  at  Asterabad — News  of 
Skobeleff— Mr.  Zinovieff— Journey  to  Teheran  decided  on  .        .        .271 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

ASTERABAD  TO  ENZELI. 

Environs  of  Asterabad — Green  corn  fodder — Pruning  corn  crops — Earth- 
quake shock — Plan  of  journey — My  travelling  companions — Jungle 
road — Dengolan — Sleeping  sheds — Forest  growth — Wild  animals — 
Karaoul  Hanes — A  lonely  grave — Ges — Stuck  in  a  quagmire — Kenar 
Gez — Mercurius  and  Carcass  Company — Landing  accommodation — 
Ashurade — Russian  and  Persian  policy — Absurd  building  restrictions 
— M.  Yussuf— White  truffles — Cotton — Loup*  and  box-wood — On 
board  the  '  Cesarewitch ' — Fog  off  Tchikislar — Commissariat  swindling 
— Meshed-i-Ser — Cavalry  at  Sea — Shah's  summer  palace  at  Enzeli — 
Persian  launches — Mr.  Churchill's  departure — The  *  Cesarewitch '  mail 
steamer — Astatki  ship  furnace ?94 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME.  xvii 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

ENZELI  TO   BESHT. 

PAOB 

Lauding  at  Eneeli — The  Shah's  yacht — A  naval  salute — Persian  flag  on 
the  Caspian — Armenian  traders — Articles  of  export — Dried  fish — 
Shah's  lodge — Across  the  Moradab — A  tattered  sail — Piri-Bazaar 
river — Fishing  weir — Road  to  Resht — Former  dread  of  Russians — 
TiUmbara — Pebrine  and  flacherio  diseases — Tobacco  versus  silk — Resht 
— Novel  mode  of  torture — Retribution 310 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

BESHT  TO  TEHEBAN. 

Posting  in  Persia — Sefid-Rood — Mountain  roads — Ruetamabad — Olive 
groves — Rood  Bar — Mengil — Travelling  in  the  dark — Stormy  glen — 
Marc  Antony  and  the  snakes — Shah  Rood — Corpse  caravan— Starved 
post-horses — Pood  Chenar — A  deserted  post-house— Kurd  encampment 
— Pass  of  Kharzon — Kurds  on  the  march — Funeral  rites — Imam  Zade 
— Masrah — The  gcurrib-geM — Miana — A  Persian  remedy — An  appeal  to 
the  Shah — Fortified  villages — Kanots — Kasvin — Persian  tombstones — 
Hotel — Enamelled  tiles — A  good  postmaster — A  contrast — A  break- 
down—Good ponies — Mounds  and  villages — Count  de  Monteforte — 
Approaching  Teheran — Gates  and  fortifications 319 

CHAPTER  XX. 

TEHEBAN. 

Defences  of  Teheran — General  aspect  of  town — Groves  and  gardens — 
British  Legation — Boulevards — Gas  lamps — Electric  light — Cannon 
square — Gun  from  Delhi — Shah's  palace — Newly  organised  regiments 
— Uniform — Arms — Austrian  officers — Captain  Standeisky — Gymnas- 
tics— Care  of  arms — Captain  Wagner  and  the  artillery — Persian 
Cossacks — Colonel  Demontovitch — Visit  to  cavalry  barracks — Old 
soldiers  v.  new — Baron  Renter's  contract — Shah's  red  umbrella — Royal 
cavalcade — Shah's  carriage— Ladies  of  the  Harem — 'Be  blind,  be 
blind!' — Novel  military  salute — Departure  of  Austrian  officers — 
Rumoured  advent  of  Russian  organisers 338 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

teheban  {continued). 

The  bazaar — Persian  yashmak — Constantinople  police  edict — The  town  as 
it/is — The  Shah  visiting  his  First  Minister — A  long  wait — Police — 
The  cortege — Shah's  running  footmen — Apes  and  baboons— Scattering 

vol.  i.  a 


xviii  CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 

PACT 

flowers — Hopes  for  the  future— A  Persian  saying — Conceited  Persian 
officer — An  explanation — A  visit  to  the  Russian  Minister — SkobelefTs 
telegram — '  Au  revoir  a  Merv ' — Internet?  with  the  Sipah  Salar  Aazam 
— A  diplomatic  conversation — Busso-Persian  frontier — Why  I  changed 
sides — Dr.  Tholozan — The  military  situation — An  unpleasant  pro- 
spect  860 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

TEHERAN  TO  AQHIYAK. 

Preparing  for  a  journey — Mr.  Arnold's  servant — Posting  in  Persia — 
'  Towers  cf  Silence  '—Evan  Keif— Old  police-stations— Kishlak— Mud 
architecture — Skab-gez — A  tough  fowl — Gratuities — Outlying  tele- 
graph station — Deep-cut  stream  beds — Irrigation — Fortified  mounds — 
An  old  palace— Persian  graves — Gathering  the  harvest — A  useful 
custom — Benevolent  lying — Deh  Memek — Towers  of  refuge— Terrace 
irrigation — Castled  mound  of  Lasgird — Lugubrious  quarters — Pursued 
by  the  mail — An  adventure  with  Afghans — A  precipitate  flight — Sem- 
nan — Extensive  cemeteries — A  quick  ride  to  Aghivan  .  866 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

8HAHROOD. 

Caravanserais — Villages  and  their  fortifications — Kanots  and  tanks — 
Absence  of  palm,  orange,  and  olive  trees — Minars — Deh  Mullah- 
Crossed  by  the  post — Persian  postmaster — A  storm  on  the  plain — 
Shahrood — Derivation  of  name — Armenian  traders — Bitten  by  the 
garrib-gez — Various  cures — Disputes  about  sluices — Monthly  pilgrim 
caravans — Dervishes — Military  escort — Bokharan  pilgrims — Change 
of  plans 382 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A  PILGRIM  CARAVAN. 

Leaving  Shahrood— Beset  by  mendicants — 'Where  is  the  /&>£?'— Star- 
light march — Novel  mode  of  sleeping — Warlike  appearance  of  caravan 
— Maiamid — Itinerant  butchers — Beligious  drama — Persian  dervishes 
— Waiting  for  the  escort — An  Eastern  row — Besieged  in  a  chappar 
harU — «  By  your  beard,  Emir ' — A  present  from  the  Governor — Beligious 
buffoonery — Moullahs  and  dervishes — A  weird  procession — Mule  bells 
— Our  piece  of  artillery — A  dangerous  pass — A  panic — Returning 
pilgrims — A  halt 400 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME.  xix 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

MIANDASHT — BABZAYAB. 

Caravanserai  scenes — Travellers'  lodgings — Persian  architecture— The 
midday  siesta — Departure  of  a  caravan — The  road  to  Sabsavar — 
Strategical  positions  —  Abasahad — Persian  coinage — Sadrabad — A 
ruined  country — Abandoned  irrigation  works — The  Kal  Mora  river — 
An  ancient  bridge — Masinan — Miliars  and  Mosques — A  decayed  town 
— Sabeavar — Commercial  relations  with  France — Ice  manufacture — 
Travellers'  annoyances — Flies  and  scorpions — Parting  from  the  pil- 
grims— Begging  on  the  road — Persians  and  Turcomans — An  official 
reception  in  Persia — Oriental  diplomacy — News  and  newspapers — The 
wardens  of  the  Turcoman  border — Timorous  guides — A  travelled 
Persian's  impressions  of  London — Patd  as  a  cancan  dancer — Start  for 
Kuchan 4L9 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

FROM  BABZAYAR  TO  KUCHAN. 

Exhausted  lands — Grapes  and  wine— Aliak — Reformed  thieves — Writing 
under  difficulties — Sultanabad — Antiquated  farm  implements — Saman 
fodder — Water-melons — Mineral  resources — Karagul — Sympathy  with 
Russia — Persian  highwaymen — Abdullah  Gau — Kuchan — The  Upper 
Atterek — Weighing  the  chances — Russians  and  Turcomans — Anxieties 
— Railroad — Earthquakes — Dinner  with  a  Persian  Emir — A  frontier 
court — Dinner-table  on  the  frontier — Social  fencing — Persian  zakouska 
— Family  etiquette — A  renegade — Western  luxuries — A  Kurdish  orgie 
— A  young  captive — Eastern  immorality — Going  home — Bitten  by  the 
tkab-ge* — Fever  and  delirium — A  friend  in  need — A  desperate  remedy 
— Opium  dreams — Recovery — Kuchan  medical  astrologers         •        .  437 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

MILITARY  AND  POLITICAL  SITUATION. 

How  news  travels  in  the  East — The  Russian  advance — The  defence  of  Geok 
Tope — Night  in  a  Persian  caravanserai — Persian  singing — Persian 
servants — Scenes  on  the  Upper  Atterek — A  house-top  promenade — 
Interview  with  a  Turcoman  envoy — The  Turcoman  version  of  the  course 
of  hostilities — Bussian  tactics — A  Turcoman  poet — Modern  weapons 
among  the  Nomads — Mussulman  troops  in  the  Bussian  service — The 
Daghestan  cavalry — Vambery  on  Bussian  intrigues — Shiites  and  Sun- 
nites — Peculiar  mercy  to  co-religionists — The  telegraphic  service — 
Iron  posts  versus  wooden  poles — Turcoman  auxiliaries  to  Russia — The 
effect  of  the  Afghan  war  on  Central  Asia — Turcoman  hopes  of  British 


xx  CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 

aid — Russian  designs  on  India — The  feeling  of  the  Russian  army — 
Letter  to  Makdum  Kuli  Khan — Persia  and  Russia — Benevolent  neu- 
trality of  the  Shah's  Government — Russian  courtesies  to  Persian 
officials — Understanding  between  -  Persia  and  Russia — Start  for 
Meshed 4*6 

CHAPTER  XXVIH. 

KUCHAN  TO  MESHED. 

rhe  Meshed  road — Kurdish  customs — A  thievish  chief — Rapacious  officials 
— Persian  building — Fruits — Pitfalls  in  the  roads — Meshed — A  mag- 
nificent prospect — The  Grand  Boulevard  of  Meshed — Lack  of  public 
spirit — Russian  commerce — Strange  nationalities — Persian  attendants 
— Antique  coins — A  Persian  bouse — Fountains  and  water  supply — 
Brinks  of  the  country — Population  of  Meshed — Turcoman  horses        .  479 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  SHKINE  OF  IMAM  BIZA. 

A  Persian  Mecca — Jealousy  of  Christian  visitors — Interments  in  the  sacred 
ground — Tombstone  makers — A  Persian  lathe — The  great  mosque — 
Characteristic  architecture — Colour  in  architecture — The  tomb  of 
Haroun-al-Raschisl — Renegade  Christians — Light  and  Shade  effects — 
Wealth  of  a  Mahomedan  sanctuary — Rights  of  pilgrims — Mosques  in 
decay — Miliars  and  Irish  round  towers — An  ancient  rite — Saluting  the 
sunset — Barbaric  music — Relics  of  Zoroastrism — Sunnites  and  Shiites 
— The  twelve  holy  Imams — Wine-drinking  among  Persians — National 
traditions  and  religion — The  Mahomedan  conqueror  of  Persia  .  488 


ILLUSTBATIONS 

IN  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 

Portrait  of  thb  Author Frontitpieoe 

Facsimile  of  Russian  Passport — Tiflis  to  Baku   •        .     to  foot  page     7 
Ground  Plans  of  Gukush  Tepb  and  Part  of  Kizil  Alan         -         906 


ME  E  V. 


CHAPTER  I. 

FBOM  TREBIZOND   TO   THE   CASPIAN. 

Trebizond  to  Batoum — Poti— Delays  in  landing — Rion  river — Turcoman 
pilgrims -Railroad — Tiflia — Life  in  Tiflis — Travelling  by  troika — De- 
scription of  vehicle — Easterly  plains— Camel  trains — Wild  pigeons — 
Post-houses — Samovar  and  tea-drinking — '  Across  country ' — Troglodytic 
dwellings — Wild  cats  and  boars — Fevers — Tartar  thieves — Tartar  ladies — 
Old  Persian  fortifications — Elizabethpol — Hotel  th?re — Limited  accommo- 
dation— Table  cCh6U — Caviare— Prince  Chavcharaza — News  of  Trans- 
Caspian  Expedition — General  Lazareff— His  history — Armenian  villages — 
Salt  incrustations — Automatic  raft  over  Kur — Abandoned  camels — Tartar 
funeral— Tartar  tombstones — Circassian  horse-trappings — Waggons  from 
Baku— Crossing  the  mountains  —Red-legged  partridges — Field  mice  and 
ferrets — Shumakha — Xorezsafen — Obstinate  driver — First  sight  of  Baku 
and  the  Caspian — Tartar  carts — Burden-bearing  bullocks — Petroleum 
well-houses  of  Balahane  and  Sulahane—  Tying  up  troika  bells. 

I  left  Trebizond  at  sunset  on  Wednesday,  February  5, 
1879,  en  route  for  Central  Asia.  It  was  my  intention  to 
travel  to  Central  Thibet,  but  subsequent  circumstances 
obliged  me  to  alter  my  resolution,  and  directed  my  steps 
to  a  locality  perhaps  not  less  interesting.  I  started  by 
the  English  steamer  '  Principe  di  Carignano/  reaching 
Batoum  early  on  the  morning  of  the  6th.  I  found  that 
place  wonderfully  increased  in  size,  even  during  the  short 
time  which  had  elapsed  since  the  Russian  occupation. 
The  number  of  houses  had  almost  trebled,  and,  after  the 

VOL.   I.  B 


3  LANDING  AT  POTI. 

fashion  of  Russia  generally,  the  majority  of  these  consisted 
of  rum  and  vodka l  shops.  At  least  one  barrel-organ  was 
to  be  heard  grinding  in  the  streets,  and,  for  the  first  time 
in  the  history  of  the  town,  public  vehicles — the  Russian 
phaeton,  or  gig — plied  for  hire.  The  same  afternoon,  the 
1  Principe  di  Carignano '  continued  her  voyage,  arriving  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Rion  river  in  two  and  a  half  hours. 
Here  one  became  fully  impressed  with  the  necessity  felt 
by  Russia  for  a  better  naval  station  than  Poti  on  the 
Southern  Black  Sea  littoral.  The  extreme  shallowness  of 
the  water  obliged  us  to  anchor  at  least  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  the  low  pebbly  beach,  and,  owing  to  the  violent  off- 
shore wind  which  prevailed,  which  would  neither  allow  us  to 
send  boats  ashore,  nor  the  usual  tug  steamer,  employed  for  dis- 
embarking passengers,  to  come  off,  two  days  and  a  half 
elapsed  before  the  slightest  chance  of  landing  occurred.  Such 
delays,  I  was  told,  were  of  common  occurrence.  At  length 
some  of  the  fishing  luggers  ventured  to  put  out  from  the 
river's  mouth,  and  brought  us  and  our  baggage  ashore. 

Arrived  within  the  mouth  of  the  river,  we  were  taken 
in  tow  by  a  small  steamer,  which  tugged  us  a  distance 
of  two  miles,  finally  landing  us  at  the  town  of  Poti 
itself.  The  river  banks  on  either  side  presented  a  dismal 
aspect,  such  as  one  notices  along  the  minor  tributaries 
of  the  Mississippi.  Everything  seemed  but  lately  to  have 
been  inundated.  Rotting  '  snags '  stuck  from  the  slimy 
surface  of  the  semi-stagnant  water;  the  lower  portion 
of  those  trees  which  stood  along  the  margin  looked 
black  and  rotting,  and  a  general  odour  of  decomposing 
vegetable  matter  permeated  the  air.  ,  Poti  is  notorious 
for  its  unhealthy,  feverish  climate,  and,  considering  its 
immediate  surroundings,  I  am  not  surprised  at  this.  As 
A  naval  station  there  can  be  no  comparison  between  it 

1  A  fiery,  white  spirituous  liquor,  largely  consumed  in  Russia. 


TIFLIS  RAILWAY.  3 

and  Batoum.  The  latter  possesses  a  deep  and  well- 
sheltered,  though  small  harbour,  where  the  largest  vessels 
can  anchor  within  a  few  fathoms  of  the  beach,  and 
where  they  are  perfectly  sheltered  from  winds,  whether 
off  or  on  shore.  It  is  true  that  under  Turkish  rule,  owing 
to  the  blocking  of  the  mouths  of  several  minor  mountain 
streams,  swamps  had  formed  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
town,  which  rendered  it  to  a  certain  extent  a  feverish 
locality.  Still,  the  smallest  engineering  effort  would  serve 
to  remove  this  drawback,  and  I  believe  that  at  this  mo- 
ment such  effort  is  being  made.  Among  my  fellow- 
travellers  who  crowded  the  luggers  were  Trans-Caspian 
Turcomans,  on  whom  I  now  laid  my  eyes  for  the  first 
time.  They  were  pilgrims  returning  from  Mecca;  for, 
notwithstanding  the  never-ceasing  hostility  between  the 
nomads  and  the  Bussians,  the  former  invariably  adopt  the 
route  by  Baku,  Tiflis,  Poti,  and  Constantinople,  when 
going  to  the  Sacred  City,  instead  of  the  land  route  by 
Persia  and  Baghdad.  Before  we  were  permitted  to  leave  the 
precincts  of  the  landing  station,  the  usual  tedious  examina- 
tion of  baggage,  and  then  of  passports,  had  to  be  under- 
gone, and  fully  four  hours  elapsed  after  our  landing  before 
we  were  allowed  to  enter  the  town  About  Poti  itself 
there  is  little  to  say.  It  is  a  rambling  kind  of  place, 
largely  composed  of  wooden  shanties,  and,  but  for  its 
phattons,  low-crowned-hatted  coachmen,  and  its  unmis- 
takeable  gendarmes,  might  pass  for  a  town  of  almost  any 
nationality.  From  Poti  there  is  a  railroad  to  Tiflis,  the 
journey  to  the  latter  place  occupying  about  twelve  hours 
by  ordinary  train.  During  the  first  two  hours,  the  country 
one  traverses  is  indescribfbly  dreary,  rotting  forest  &oZ 
and  stagnant  overflows  of  the  river  being  its  main  charac- 
teristics. Then  a  steep  gradient  is  arrived  at,  by  which 
the  train  mounts  to  the  crest  of  an  outlying  spur  of  the 

b2 


4  TIFUS—PADAROSJNA. 

Caucasus,  whence  a  commanding  view  is  obtained  oyer 
the  vast  expanse  of  country  lying  in  the  direction  of 
Tiflis.  Leaving  Poti  late  in  the  afternoon,  one  arrives  at 
the  capital  of  the  Trans-Caucasus  early  on  the  following 
morning.  The  first  thing  that  strikes  the  eye  is  the 
semi-Asiatic,  semi-European  aspect  of  the  place — the  old 
town,  with  its  narrow  streets,  its  old-fashioned  booths, 
and  artisans  plying  their  trades  in  full  view  of  the 
public,  together  with  Tartar  head-dresses  and  fur-lined 
coats,  contrasting  violently  with  the  palatial  houses,  wide 
prospects,  and  great  open  gardens,  thronged  with  persons  of 
both  sexes,  wearing  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  Western  European 
fashionable  attire.  I  was  unfortunate  enough  to  miss 
seeing  Prince  Mirski,  the  governor  of  the  town,  he  being 
absent  in  the  interior ;  so,  after  a  couple  of  days'  delay  at 
the  Hotel  Cavcass,  I  prepared  for  my  journey  across  the 
steppes  which  separated  me  from  the  Western  Caspian 
border.  During  the  two  nights  which  I  remained  in  Tiflis, 
I  had  ample  opportunity  of  witnessing  the  remarkably 
'  fast '  rate  of  living  which  usually  obtains  in  better-class 
Russian  society.  Everything  seemed  at  fever-heat. 
Theatres,  music-halls,  and  circuses  wore  nightly  thronged, 
and  petits  soupers  and  select  dinner  parties  seemed  the 
order  of  the  day.  As  for  myself,  the  thing  I  least  liked 
about  Tiflis  was  the  very  excessive  charge  made  at  the 
hotel,  and  I  was  glad  when  the  morning  for  my  departure 
arrived. 

We  are  told  that  up  to  the  end  of  the  seventeenth 
century  in  Prance,  a  traveller  setting  out  from  Lyons  for 
Paris,  in  view  of  the  state  of  the  road,  considered  it  his 
duty  to  draw  up  his  last  will  and  testament.  If  the  roads  in 
France  at  that  date  bore  any  resemblance  to  those  I  have 
traversed  on  my  way  from  Tiflis  across  the  Trans-Cau- 
casian  plain,  I   must   say   the  travellers   were  perfectly 


TROIKA.  5 

justified  in  their  precautions.  I  had  heard  and  read  a 
good  deal  about  travel  in  this  part  of  the  world,  but  my 
wildest  anticipations  fell  very  far  short  of  the  sad  reality. 

When  one  has  to  do  with  officials  in  Russia,  especially 
those  of  a  subordinate  class,  he  is  certain  to  be  worried 
almost  out  of  his  existence  by  needless  and  seemingly 
endless  delays  before  the  simplest  matter  of  business  can 
be  effected,  or  the  inevitable  official  documents  procured* 
After  a  good  deal  of  trouble  I  succeeded  in  securing  the  all- 
important  padarosjna  (this  is  the  nearest  approach  I  can 
make  to  the  name  in  our  alphabet),  which  entitles  the 
holder  to  carriages  and  post-horses.  It  is  a  large 
sheet  of  paper  bearing  the  Russian  double-headed  eagle, 
with  paraphernalia,  in  the  water-mark,  and  having  several 
double-headed  eagles  and  ornamental  panels  all  over  it. 
It  bears  many  numbers  of  registration,  and  a  still  greater 
amount  of  signatures  and  counter-signatures,  and  is  not 
unlike  a  magnified  reproduction  of  some  of  the  earlier 
American  paper  dollars.  On  the  strength  of  this  docu- 
ment, the  people  of  the  Hotel  Cavcasb  undertook  to  find 
me  an  orthodox  postal  vehicle,  with  the  due  number  of 
horses  and  the  official  conductor.  The  vehicle  in  which 
one  ordinarily  travels  by  post  in  this  part  of  the  world 
is  termed  a  troika.  There  is  a  more  luxurious  kind 
of  conveyance — which,  to  tell  the  truth,  is  not  saying  much 
for  it — named  a  tarentasse ;  but  though  one  may  pay  the 
increased  rate  demanded  for  such  a  carriage,  he  is  not 
always  sure  of  finding  others  at  the  changing-places  on 
the  route,  should,  as  is  generally  the  case,  his  own 
come  to  grief.  The  experienced  traveller  generally 
chooses  the  troika,  for  at  each  station  at  least  half  a 
dozen  are  always  in  readiness  to  supply  the  almost  inevi- 
table break-downs  which  occur  from  post-house  to  post- 
house.    At  the  moment  of  which  I  speak  I  had  never  seaa 


6  TROlkA. 

either  tarenUuse  or  troika.  I  had  a  kind  of  preconceived 
idea  about  four  fiery  steeds  and  a  fur-lined  carriage,  in 
which  the  traveller  is  whirled  in  luxury  to  his  destination. 
Judge  of  my  surprise  when,  on  a  raw  winter's  morning,  just 
as  the  grey  dawn  was  stealing  over  the  turrets  of  the  old 
Persian  fortress,  I  saw  a  nameless  kind  of  thing  drawn  up 
before  the  door  of  the  hotel.  Though  I  had  just  been  sum- 
moned from  bed  to  take  my  place,  I  had  not  the  slightest 
suspicion  that  the  four-wheeled  horror  before  me  was  even 
intended  for  my  luggage,  so  I  waited  patiently  for  the 
arrival  of  my  ideal  conveyance.  The  hall  porter  and  some 
chilly-looking  waiters  were  standing  around,  impatiently 
awaiting  a  'gratification/  and  evidently  believing  that  I 
was  all  the  time  buried  in  deep  political  or  scientific 
thought.  I  was  beginning  to  get  stiff  with  cold,  and  at 
length  I  asked,  *  Where  is  this  coach  ? '  '  Your  Excellence/ 
said  the  porter,  '  it  is  there  before  you.'  When  I  shall 
have  described  a  troika,  no  one  will  wonder  at  the  exclama- 
tion of  amazement  and  terror  which  burst  from  my  lips 
at  the  bare  idea  that  I  had  to  travel  four  hundred  miles  in 
such  a  thing.  Imagine  a  pig-trough  of  the  roughest  pos- 
sible construction,  four  feet  and  a  half  long,  two  and  a 
half  wide  at  the  top,  and  one  at  the  bottom,  filled  with 
coarse  hay,  more  than  half  thistles,  and  set  upon  four 
poles,  which  in  turn  rest  upon  the  axles  of  two  pairs  of 
wheels.  Besides  these  poles,  springs,  even  of  the  most 
rudimentary  kind,  there  are  none.  Seen  from  the  outside, 
the  troika  has  the  appearance  of  a.  primitive  lake-habita- 
tion canoe,  just  drawn  out  of  a  mud  bank;  anything  in 
the  shape  of  washing,  either  for  vehicles  or  drivers,  being 
considered  in  this  part  of  the  world  entirely  a  work  of 
supererogation. 

The  driver,  clad  in  a  rough  sheep-skin  tunic,  fitting 
closely  at  the  waist,  the  woolly  side  turned  inwards,  and 


* 


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CAPS  HMHEPATOPA 


itCKATO 


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*#~4*£^4£&*e&2 


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Zerf^ 


xoBhuk 


,  aa  yKaMHuexnpoeoHU,  6es* 


£^+^§£feoda* 


iojrhos  aa 


<c&r 


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«  JT 


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B&1TO 


KasuMeu 


?eaamt 


LEAVING   TIF  LIS.  7 

wearing  a  prodigious  conical  cap  of  the  same  material, 
sits  upon  the  forward  edge  of  the  vehicle.  With  a  com- 
bination of  patched  leather  straps  and  knotted  ropes  by 
way  of  reins,  he  conducts  the  three  horses.  The  centre 
animal  is  between  the  two  shafts,  which  are  joined  by  a 
high  wooden  arch  of  a  parabolic  form.  From  the  summit 
of  this  arch  a  leather  strap,  passing  under  the  animal's 
chin,  keeps  his  head  high,  while  two  pretty  large  bells, 
hung  just  where  he  ought  to  keep  his  ears,  force  him  to 
carry  the  latter  in  a  painfully  constrained  position,  while 
during  the  whole  of  the  stage  he  must  be  almost  deafened 
by  the  clang.  The  horses  on  either  side  are  very  loosely 
harnessed ;  so  much  so,  that  while  the  central  one  is,  with 
the  vehicle,  running  along  a  deep  narrow  cutting,  the 
flankers  are  on  the  top  of  high  banks  on  either  side,  or 
vice  versd.  Once  for  all,  I  give  a  description  of  a  troika 
as  the  species  of  carriage  in  which  I  made  my  journey  to 
the  Caspian.  As  the  stations  at  which  relays  are  usually 
found  are  but  twenty-seven  or  twenty-eight  miles  apart, 
they  are  gone  over,  almost  the  whole  time,  at  full  gallop. 
In  such  guise,  mingled  with  heterogeneous  portions  of 
luggage,  and  wallowing  in  thorny  hay,  I  was  whirled  out  of 
Tiflis,  across  a  long  wooden  bridge  over  the  Eur,  and  then 
up  a  long,  zig-zag,  dusty,  stony  road,  leading  to  the 
plateau  east  of  the  town.  Arrived  on  the  plateau,  a  sud- 
den undulation  of  the  road  shuts  out  the  last  glimpse  of 
the  city.  Henceforth,  for  many  a  weary  league,  all  is 
bleak.  There  are  sandy  rolling  expanses  where  the 
glaring  gravelly  surface  is  varied  only  by  scant  olive-green 
patches  and  clouds  of  dun-red  dust.  On  the  right  are  a 
couple  of  sad-looking  turbes,  or  Mahometan  tombs — dreary 
square  structures  of  earth-coloured,  unbaked  brick,  sur- 
mounted by  broken  cupolas,  amidst  whose  crumbling 
walls  nomadic  goat-herds  cower  around  a  scanty  fire.    A 


8  OUT  ON  THE  PLAINS. 

compound  flock  of  small,  active  sheep,  mingled  with  wiry, 
long-haired  goats,  with  an  occasional  diminutive  donkey, 
the  whole  conducted  by  a  scriptural-looking  person  with 
primitive  shepherd's  crook,  crosses  the  way.  Then  comes 
a  string  of  shaggy,  supercilious-aired  camels,  each  bearing 
a  couple  of  slimy  casks  of  petroleum  from  Baku,  every 
member  of  the  string  growling  and  groaning  in  true 
camel  fashion.  Now  and  then  a  blue  cloud  starts  up 
from  the  gravelly  track.  It  is  composed  of  wild  pigeons. 
What  they  can  possibly  find  to  attract  them  to  that  dusty 
gully  it  is  not  easy  to  understand.  Yet  they  look  plump 
and  strong,  notwithstanding  the  apparent  unproductive- 
ness of  the  surroundings.  Meanwhile  the  driver,  with 
many  an  Asiatic  whoop  and  shout,  plies  his  long  whip, 
and  we  tear  along,  one  side  of  the  troika  occasionally  a 
couple  of  feet  higher  than  the  other,  scaring  dozens  of 
white-backed  scald-crows  from  something  they,  like  the 
pigeons,  find  in  the  dust.  •  They  fly  on,  a  hundred  yards, 
and  then,  with  a  curious  obstinacy,  settle  again  and  again 
before  us,  to  be  driven  on  again.  Away  to  the  left  the 
giant  range  of  the  Caucasus  trembles  in  ghastly  whiteness 
athwart  the  cloudless  sky,  and  at  its  base  stretches  widely 
a  blue  mirage  that  mocks  the  Kur,  alongside  of  which  we 
go.  To  the  right,  farther  off  still,  fainter  and  more 
visionary  than  the  Caucasus,  are  the  Persian  mountains. 
Between,  a  vast  dun  expanse,  fifty  or  sixty  miles  across, 
the  horizon  ahead,  clear  and  uninterrupted  as  that  of  mid- 
ocean.  It  is  not  surprising  that  Eastern  imagination  has 
conjured  up  so  many  Gins  and  Ghouls  to  haunt  its  day- 
dreams. Out  on  these  plains  one  feels  more  lonely  and 
abandoned  at  mid-day,  than  in  the  grizzliest,  most  un- 
canny churchyard  at  home  at  the  witching  hour  of  night. 
It  was  with  a  real  sense  of  relief  that  I  at  length  perceived, 
slightly  on  my  side  of  the  horizon,  a  cloud  of  smoke.    My 


POST-HOUSES— SAMOVAR.  9 

conductor  informed  me  that  in  a  couple  of  hours  after 
reaching  this  smoke  we  should  arrive  at  the  first  station. 

A  station  on  this  route  is  not  like  a  railway  station. 
The  latter  exists  because  of  certain  pre-existent  surround- 
ings; in  the  former  case  the  surroundings  exist  because 
of  the  station.  In  other  words,  out  on  these  steppe-like 
expanses,  certain  stages  are  measured  off  along  a  given 
line,  and  the  people  employed  there  have  created  what 
there  is  of  cultivation,  and  attracted  the  small  population 
which  clusters  round  the  post-house,  which,  except  in  the 
ease  of  villages  few  and  far  between,  consists  simply  of 
rude  farm  buildings.  The  station,  which  I  found  behind 
the  horizon,  comprised  three  small  buildings  of  a  single 
story,  some  barns,  and  a  few  enclosures  for  fowl  and 
cattle.  The  station-master,  with  his  military  uniform  and 
flat  regulation  cap,  was  the  only  sign  of  officialism  about 
the  place.  As  a  rule,  I  found  these  station-masters  ex* 
ceedingly  obliging,  and  ready  to  afford  the  traveller  every 
assistance.  At,  each  station-house  is  a  '  guest-chamber/ 
as  the  Mohammedans  style  the  apartment  in  their  houses 
which  is  appropriated  to  the  reception  of  strangers.  It  is 
generally  a  small  room  containing  two  wooden  camp-beds, 
a  table,  a  fire-place,  and  sometimes  a  couple  of  chairs. 
No  bedding  is  provided,  the  traveller  being  supposed  to 
bring  this  with  him,  as  well  as  his  food,  tea,  sugar,  &c. 
A  petroleum  lamp  burns  all  night  within  the  chamber, 
and  another  is  attached  to  the  blue  and  white  striped 
post  at  the  door,  which  indicates  the  station,  with  its 
distance  from  the  last  centre  of  Government,  in  versts. 
Usually  it  is  difficult  to  procure  food,  unless  some  of  the 
women  of  the  establishment  can  supply  a  few  eggs  and 
some  sheets  of  the  peculiar  leathery  bread,  rivalling  in 
size  and  consistency  a  cobbler's  apron,  which  seems  to 
pervade  the  entire  East.    The  only  thing  the  traveller  can 


IO  TRAVELLING  BY  TROIKA. 

be  certain  of  finding  is  the  redoubtable  samovar.  This 
instrument  is  to  be  found  in  the  humblest  Tartar  hovel, 
for  tea— morning,  noon,  and  night — seems  an  absolutely 
indispensable  necessity  of  Russian  populations.  This 
samovar  is  a  large  cylindrical  brass  urn,  mounted  on  a 
short  column  and  broad  pedestal,  having  a  movable  cover, 
from  the  centre  of  which  projects  a  vertical  chimney,  six 
inches  high.  This  chimney  connects  with  a  central 
tubular  furnace,  which  is  filled  with  lighted  charcoal.  The 
water  occupies  the  annular  space  outside,  and  is  drawn 
off  by  means  of  a  stopcock.  The  chimney  is  bell-mouthed, 
and  supports  a  small  metal  or  porcelain  tea-pot,  which 
contains  what  we  should  consider  pretty  strong  tea,  kept 
at  almost  boiling-point  by  the  heat  of  the  chimney.  It  is 
an  almost  universal  custom  here  to  drink  tea  in  glass 
tumblers.  Each  glass  is  filled  one-third,  or  in  some  cases 
one-half,  with  the  liquid  contained  in  the  small  tea-pot, 
and  the  remainder  with  boiling  water  from  the  samovar. 
Some  persons  dissolve  their  sugar  in  the  tea,  but  many 
prefer  to  hold  it  between  their  lips  and  suck  the  tea 
through  it.  Milk  or  cream  as  an  adjunct  is  a  thing  un- 
heard of,  though  sometimes  rum  or  cognac  is  added.  On 
the  arrival  of  a  troika  with  travellers,  the  samovar  is  im- 
mediately brought  into  the  guest-room,  and  tea  is  prepared 
while  the  horses  are  being  changed.  This  description 
will  answer  for  the  vast  majority  of  postal  stations  on  the 
Caspian  route.  Weak  tea  swallowed,  the  traveller  again 
mounts  his  chariot,  which  at  once  dashes  away  in  the 
most  reckless  fashion,  utterly  regardless  of  the  nature  or 
state  of  the  road.  Over  bad  portions  the  jolting  of  the 
springless  vehicle  is  terrific,  especially  as,  after  the  first 
ten  minutes,  one  finds  his  way  through  the  hay  to  the 
boards  beneath.  During  the  first  hours  of  the  journey 
from  Tiflis,  one  forgets  the  physical  inconveniences  of  the 


TROGLODYTIC  DWELLINGS.  II 

system  of  travelling,  wrapt  in  admiration  of  the  wonderful 
mountain  and  plain  scenes ;  but  the  eternal  sameness  at 
length,  notwithstanding  its  magnificence,  palls  upon  the 
eye ;  and  the  traveller  falls  into  a  dreamy  state,  which  is 
broken  only  by  some  marvellous  jump  of  the  troika  over 
an  irrigation  trench  three  feet  deep,  drawn  across  the 
road.  The  postal  conveyances  do  not  always  follow  the 
great  high  road.  The  drivers  make  all  kinds  of  short 
cuts,  choosing  their  way  very  much  as  a  rider  after  the 
hounds  would.1  After  the  first  two  stations  from  Tifiis,  I 
can  only  compare  our  mode  of  progress  to  a  headlong 
steeplechase  over  a  violently  accidented  ploughed  field, 
with  continually  occurring  mad  dashes  across  steep-sided 
torrent  beds  filled  with  large  boulders — the  banks  on 
either  side  having  a  slope  of  thirty  or  forty  degrees,  some- 
times more.  The  great  high  road  is,  as  a  rule,  very  good 
except  in  low-lying  parts,  where  it  is  apt  to  be  inundated 
at  times.  But  the  drivers  of  the  post  troikas  laugh  con- 
ventionalities to  scorn,  and  would  not  go  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  out  of  their  way  to  follow  the  best  road  on  earth ; 
and  their  pace  over  hill  and  dale  is  the  same  as  on  the 
highway.  Under  ordinary  circumstances  the  jolting  is 
bad  enough,  but  'across  country*  must  be  left  to  the 
imagination.  I  remember  once  going  into  action  seated 
on  the  tumbril  of  a  field-gun,  galloping  over  a  rough, 
stony  plain.  It  was  luxurious  ease  compared  to  the  sensa- 
tions experienced  in  a  troika  when  the  driver  takes  it  into 
his  head  to  make  a  short  cut. 

At  the  third  station  from  Tifiis  the  traveller  may  be 
said  to  bid  farewell  for  the  time  being  to  civilisation.  It 
is  a  kind  of  village  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Eur.    The 

1  Since  these  lines  were  written,  the  Trans-Gaucasus  railroad  has  been  com- 
menced and  nearly  completed ;  so  that  the  experiences  related  above  are,  for 
tho  traveller  to  Baku,  things  of  the  past 


12  WILD  ANIMALS. 

portal  station  and  the  houses  of  three  or  four  well-to-do 
Tartar  families  were  the  only  buildings,  strictly  speaking, 
above  the  surface  of  the  ground.  The  other  dozen  or  so 
of  habitations  are  even  more  troglodytic  than  those  of 
Central  Armenia.  In  the  latter  place  there  is,  at  least, 
something  like  a  slightly  raised  tumulus  to  suggest  to  the 
experienced  eye  that  a  dwelling  exists,  or  did  so  formerly. 
Here  advantage  is  taken  of  some  scarped  bank,  into  which 
a  broad  deep  trench  is  cut.  This  is  covered  over  with 
hurdles  and  branches,  and  the  earth  which  covers  all  is 
scarcely,  if  at  all,  above  the  level  of  the  surrounding  sur- 
face. Here  and  there  a  wooden  cask-like  construction 
acts  as  chimney ;  but  in  most  instances  this  last  is  simply 
a  hole  in  the  ground,  with  stone  coping,  and  a  small 
wooden  fence  erected  round  it  to  prevent  human  beings 
or  cattle  from  falling  through.  Buffaloes  and  goats 
wander  at  will  over  these  singular  house-tops.  A  stranger 
is  often  startled,  while  strolling  over  what  he  considers 
solid  ground,  to  come  upon  an  oblong  opening,  through 
which  he  can  hear  human  voices.  This  is  one  of  the  venti- 
lation holes  which  abound;  and  I  wonder  that  they  are 
not  a  more  frequent  source  of  accident  than  they  seem  to 
be.  Huge  wolf-like  dogs  prowl  about,  causing  the  stranger 
to  pass  them  by  a  kind  of  sidelong,  edging  movement,  by 
way  of  precaution.  Here  and  there  are  large  rectangular 
enclosures  seventy  or  eighty  feet  square,  girt  by  walls  of 
stout  hurdle,  within  which  are  the  form  sheds  and  habita- 
tions of  the  better  class  of  the  population.  The  hurdle 
wall  is  meant  as  a  protection  to  the  flocks  at  night,  against 
the  depredations  of  wolves  and  wild  cats.  These  latter 
are  really  formidable  creatures — little  less  in  size  than  a 
leopard,  of  a  lion-tawny  coloured  stiff  fur,  with  flat  heads 
and  noses,  half-way  between  those  of  an  otter  and  a  bull- 
dog.   One  had  just  been  shot  by  a  peasant  close  to  the 


'  THIEVES -TARTAR  LADIES.  13 

station.  It  was  one  of  the  ugliest-looking  beasts  I  had  ever 
seen.  For  twenty  miles  round,  the  country  is  infested  by 
all  manner  of  wild  animals.  The  village  or  station  is 
situated  on  a  sloping  bank,  one  side  of  which  descends 
vertically  to  the  Kur,  often  going  sheer  down  two  hundred 
feet  to  the  water's  edge.  The  river,  spread  out  into  a 
network  of  channels  and  swamps,  studded  with  marshy 
islands  overgrown  with  brushwood  and  lesser  forest  trees, 
is  nearly  a  mile  wide.  Close  by  are  patches  of  primaeval 
forest,  the  haunts  of  wild  boars,  lynxes,  and  all  the  other 
savage  animals  of  the  locality.  Wild  boars'  flesh  is  the 
only  meat  one  can  reckon  on,  but  that,  with  occasional 
wild  ducks  and  partridges,  is  in  abundance. 

Owing  to  the  marshy  ground,  the  neighbourhood  is 
very  unhealthy,  ague  largely  prevailing.  I  myself  suf- 
fered from  the  renewal  in  the  locality  of  on  old  complaint. 
Hot  and  cold  sweats,  trembling,  and  violent  accesses  of 
vomiting  are  the  symptoms.  At  one  time  I  feared  that 
I  had  caught  the  much-dreaded  Astrakan  plague,  but  I 
recovered  after  a  couple  of  days  and  a  good  deal  of  quinine. 
A  still  worse  mishap,  however,  occurred  at  this  station. 
I  had  a  small  leather  writing-case,  closed  by  a  lock,  and 
containing  all  my  maps,  notes,  and  writing  material. 
There  are  always  prowling  round  a  large  station  a  number 
of  thievish  Tartars,  and  while  seeing  to  the  transfer  of. 
my  baggage  to  the  place  where  I  was  to  pass  the  night, 
one  of  these  itinerant  gentlemen,  evidently  mistaking  the 
article  for  a  money-box,  made  off  with  it.  On  missing  it 
I  at  once  called  on  the  officer  of  the  station  to  despatch 
men  to  pursue  the  thief.  Everything  possible  was  done, 
but  in  vain,  and  in  the  interim  my  sword-belt  disappeared. 
The  station  officers  had  warned  me  against  these  gentry, 
but  I  could  not  imagine  that  they  would  carry  on  their 
depredations  at  the  very  door  of  the  post-house. 


14  EUZABETHPOL. 

It  would  be  tedious  to  recapitulate  the  scenes  of  each 
day's  journey ;  one  day  was  like  another,  save  that  at  each 
mile  the  road  grew  worse.  At  last  it  seemed  to  have 
totally  disappeared.  We  promenaded  at  will  over  long 
brown  expanses,  and  over  water-worn  torrent-beds,  the 
driver  seeming  always  to  have  the  most  implicit  faith  in 
the  impossibility  of  upsetting  his  vehicle.  Sometimes 
long  trains  of  camels  glided  by  us  in  spectral  fashion,  the 
huge  loads  of  lengthy  osiers  with  which  some  of  them  were 
laden,  the  branches  trailing  behind  on  the  ground,  giving 
them  the  air  of  gigantic  long-legged  porcupines.  Then 
we  would  meet  a  Tartar  cavalcade,  with  indigenous  ladies 
on  horseback,  clothed  as  usual  in  staring  red  garments, 
and  much  more  effectually  veiled  than  the  Turkish  ladies 
generally  are.  From  time  to  time  trains  of  twenty  or 
thirty  huge  waggons,  each  drawn  by  four  or  five  horses 
all  abreast,  came  by  from  Persia.  The  trade  from  the 
latter  country  on  this  side  is  evidently  far  greater  than  that 
by  the  Bayazid  and  Erzeroum  routes. 

On,  on,  across  burnt-up,  grey-looking  expanses,  the 
Caucasus  and  Persian  mountains  always  looming  right 
and  left,  amid  the  glare  of  an  Eastern  day.  Elizabethpol, 
the  next  station,  is  a  kind  of  half-way  house  between  the 
last  traces  of  Europe  and  the  Caspian  shores.  It  is 
approached  by  a  steep  road  descending  towards  the 
western  bank  of  the  Kur.  You  cross  a  water-worn, 
boulder-strewn  channel,  descending  at  an  angle  of  45°. 
You  are  dragged  through  the  water  before  you  have  time 
to  appreciate  the  fact  that  your  feet  are  flooded  in  the 
vehicle,  and  up  an  equally  abrupt  slope  along  the  border 
of  ancient  fortifications  taken  by  Shah  Abass  from  the 
Turks  250  years  ago;  and  then,  plunging  among  the 
brick-fields  and  ruined  mud-walls,  all  white  in  the  glaring 
sun,  you  suddenly  make  your  appearance  in  the  modern 


TRANS-CAUCASIAN  HOTELS.  15 

town  of  Elizabethpol.  On  the  right  are  gardens,  with 
stately  trees,  centennial  elms,  and  chenars ;  there  are 
never-ending  suburbs,  as  there  usually  are  to  Oriental 
towns,  as  nobody  seems  to  wish  to  occupy  a  site  on  which  a 
predecessor  has  lived. 

Half  a  verst  is  got  over,  and  we  are  in  the  midst  of 
the  town  of  Elizabethpol.  Like  Tiflis,  it  is  half  Asiatic,  half 
European.  There  are  Tartar  shops  in  the  bazaar,  there  are 
Tartar  minarets  on  the  mosques,  there  are  kalpaked  Tartars 
in  the  streets ;  the  latter  contrasting  with  the  patrols  of 
from  thirty  to  forty  soldiers,  with  long  grey  coats  and  fixed 
bayonets,  marching  slowly  along  the  public  ways.  There 
are  Turkish  cafes  -  holes  in  the  wall,  as  we  should  pro- 
bably call  them — mere  niches,  within  which  the  pro- 
prietor crouches,  nursing  his  charcoal  fire  wherewith  to 
light  water-pipes  for  his  customers.  Those  who  speak  of 
'  more  than  Eastern  splendour '  should  go  to  Elizabethpol 
to  have  their  ideas  corrected.  I  do  not  know  how  it  is 
that  the  East  is  always  connected  with  splendour  in 
European  minds,  but  I  venture  to  think  that  in  the  mind 
of  anyone  who  has  practically  visited  the  East  the  idea 
will  be  reversed,  and,  even  in  traversing  the  Trans-Caucasus, 
the  ground  over  which  one  goes  will  show  even  a  more 
violent  contrast  between  Eastern  and  Western  civilisation 
than  can  be  noticed  in  crossing  the  Bosphorus  itself. 

My  battered  conveyance  drew  up  at  the  door  of  what 
I  should  be  tempted  to  call  a  caravanserai,  but  which,  in 
view  of  the  fact  of  its  being  in  Russia,  I  suppose  I  must 
style  an  hotel.  Mud-spattered  and  weary,  I  descended 
from  my  nest  of  straw  in  the  troika  which  had  carried  me 
so  far,  and,  limping  under  a  horse-shoe  archway,  found 
myself  in  a  spacious  courtyard,  surrounded  by  two  tiers  of 
galleries.  I  was  in  the  Grand  Hotel  of  Elizabethpol.  It 
was  some  time  before  I  could  attract  the  attention  of  any 


16  TABLE-DHdTE— CAVIARE. 

of  the  employes,  but  after  a  while  I  was  shown  into  what 
they  were  pleased  to  call  my  bedroom.  Its  furniture  con- 
sisted of  a  bedstead,  guiltless  of  mattress  or  anything  else 
which  we  are  accustomed  to  associate  with  the  name  of 
bed.  I  was  wearied  to  death,  and  could  scarcely  summon 
energy  to  cry  aloud  for  the  attendants,  for  bell  there  was 
not.  After  some  parley  I  understood  that  it  was  the 
custom  for  travellers  in  these  parts  to  bring  beds  with 
them,  and  that  hotel-keepers  were  not  expected  to  pander 
to  the  luxury  of  ordinary  people  like  myself.  However, 
by  dint  of  bribery,  I  secured  a  kind  of  feather-bed,  and 
prepared  to  make  up  by  a  night's  sound  repose  for  the 
fatigues  endured  since  leaving  Tiflis.  I  thought  that  a  wash 
would  be  the  best  preliminary  to  this  ;  but  no  such  thing  as 
a  basin-stand  seemed  to  exist.  I  summoned  the  attendant, 
and  learned  that  the  basin  was  still  in  use.  From  this  I 
gathered  that  in  the  Grand  Hotel  of  Elizabethpol  only  one 
basin  was  allowed  for  the  service  of  the  guests.  A  very 
solid-looking  individual  finally  made  his  appearance  with 
a  basin  full  of  water  which  had  already  been  used,  the  con- 
tents of  which  he  flung  over  the  balcony  into  the  centre  of 
the  yard.  In  this  yard  was  already  a  stagnant  pool,  which 
stank  horribly ;  and  I  may  add,  en  parentliese,  that  more 
than  wash-basins  were  emptied  into  it  over  the  balcony. 

There  was  an  attempt  at  a  table-d'hdte,  and  a  very  poor 
one  it  was.  The  bill  of  fare  was  apparently  drawn  up 
rather  for  the  amusement  of  the  guests  than  with  the 
view  of  pointing  out  to  them  in  what  guise  they  should 
satisfy  their  appetites.  After  having  enumerated  in  vain 
several  articles  the  names  of  which  were  written  very 
plainly  upon  the  carte,  I  was  forced  at  length  to  say, 
*  What  have  you  got  ? '  Then  I  discovered  that  there 
were  ham  and  caviare,  the  two  never-failing  articles  of 
diet  to  be  met  with  in  the  most  out-of-the-way  Bussian 


PRINCE  CHAVCHAVAZA.  17 

town.  Perhaps  most  of  my  readers  are  unacquainted 
with  this  Kussian  luxury — I  mean  caviare.  It  is  the  roe 
of  the  sturgeon.  When  the  fish  is  freshly  caught,  and 
its  roe  (caviare)  consumed,  I  am  told  that  it  is  a  delicacy 
such  as  the  world  elsewhere  cannot  produce.  The  black, 
salted  specimens  which  reach  Europe  are,  it  is  said, 
nothing  in  comparison  with  the  caviare  as  Bussians  eat  it 
at  home.  For  my  part,  if  the  caviare  as  Bussians  eat  it 
have  any  resemblance  whatever  to  the  black  salted 
caviare  familiar  to  us,  TU  none  of  it.'  I  once,  by 
accident,  tasted  it  at  Constantinople,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that,  inadvertently,  a  spoonful  of  cod-liver  oil  had  been 
administered  to  me.  It  would  be  tedious  to  enumerate 
the  disadvantages  of  hotels  under  such  circumstances. 
They  can  be  better  imagined  than  described. 

According  to  Bussian  courtesy,  when  a  traveller  of 
any  distinction  passes  through  a  district,  he  is  supposed 
to  call  upon  and  pay  his  respects  to  the  local  governor. 
Accordingly,  I  donned  the  best  suit  which  the  slender 
wardrobe  carried  in  my  saddle-bags  afforded  me,  and  pre- 
sented myself  at  the  palace  of  the  Government,  where 
Prince  Chavchavaza  resided.  I  was  graciously  received, 
but  the  Prince,  a  Georgian  of  the  old  school,  unfortunately 
did  not  understand  French.  The  secretary,  more  than 
polite,  as  secretaries  usually  are  in  Bussia,  interpreted 
our  discourse.  I  was  received  in  a  chamber  hung  with 
ancient  tapestry,  the  walls  of  which  were  garnished  with 
arms  of  different  periods,  captured  during  the  protracted 
struggle  in  which  Schamyl  led  the  Caucasians.  Our  con- 
versation at  first  took  a  general  turn,  and  after  a  while 
we  began  to  speak  of  the  future  of  the  Bussian  Empire 
over  these  vast  plains.  I  observed  that  nothing  but 
means  of  communication  and  transport  were  wanting  to 
make  Bussia  the  Borne  of  to-day.    He  bowed  his  head  in 

vol.  1.  0 


18  GENERAL  LAZAREFF. 

assent,  and  gave  me  many  examples,  which  space  does 
not  allow  me  to  recapitulate  here,  especially  as  the  present 
is  only  a  chapter  introductory  to  my  adventures  beyond 
the  Caspian.  And  then,  suddenly  turning  to  me,  he  fixed 
his  dark  eyes  upon  my  face  with  a  piercing  glance,  and 
said,  '  Do  you  know  that  we  expect  an  army  corps  shortly, 
bound  for  the  shores  of  the  Caspian?'  'My  prince,'  I 
replied,  'I  was  unaware  of  the  fact.  Where  are  they 
going  to?'  ' There  is  an  expedition  against  the  Turco- 
mans,' he  said,  '  commanded  by  General  Lazareff.'  This 
was  news  for  me,  and  I  resolved,  instead  of  proceeding 
on  my  original  mission,  to  follow  the  operations  of  the 
Russian  columns.  Having  thus  determined,  nothing  was 
left  but  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  Commander-in-Chief, 
General  Lazareff,  and  to  ask  his  permission  to  accompany 
his  expedition.  I  waited  several  days,  amid  the  usual 
spendthrift  extravagance  of  Bussian  border  towns,  and  at 
length  the  colossal  old  general  made  his  appearance. 
General  Lazareff  was  no  ordinary  man.  In  stature  he 
was  over  six  feet*  high,  and  broadly  made  in  proportion. 
A  mass  of  jaw  was  surmounted  by  a  more  than  Csesarian 
nose,  and  the  large  grey  feye,  half  hidden  by  the  heavy 
eyelid,  denoted  the  amount  of  observation  which  as  a 
specialty  belongs  to  his  race,  the  Armenian.  Up  to  the 
age  of  twenty  years  he  worked  as  a  journeyman  tailor  in 
the  town  of  Baku,  upon  the  Caspian  edge.  Later  on,  he 
was  a  sergeant  in  the  twenty-first  regiment  of  the  line  ; 
and  when  years  had  gone  by,  it  was  Lazareff  who  captured 
Schamyl  in  his  stronghold  amid  the  Caucasus.  Belegated 
to  obscurity  by  political  intrigues,  he  remained,  living  upon 
bis  modest  allowance,  until  the  outbreak  of  the  Busso- 
Turkish  war  called  him  again  into  action.  He  sent  for- 
ward a  petition  to  the  Emperor,  asking  to  be  employed  in 
the  humblest  capacity,  and  was  immediately  sent  to  the 


GERMAN  COLONISTS.— BAD  ROADS.  19 

front  before  Ears  in  the  capacity  of  Lieutenant-General.  He 
took  an  active  part  in  the  siege  of  that  place,  and  it  was 
owing  to  his  exertions,  to  his  intrigues,  and  to  his  intrepidity, 
that  Ears  became  a  Bussian  citadel  instead  of  a  Turkish  one. 
Two  days  elapsed  before  I  was  able  to  leave  Eliza- 
bethpol.  At  half-past  six  in  the  morning  I  started  in  the 
postal  troika.  To  describe  the  scenes  and  incidents  along 
the  route  would  be  but  to  repeat  what  I  have  already 
written,  for  each  section  of  the  road  is,  physically,  pre- 
cisely like  the  other,  so  is  each  post-house,  so  are  the 
officials,  and  the  occurrences  of  each  day  and  hour.  There 
are  the  same  undulating  plains,  with  the  Eur  on  the 
right,  and  Persian  mountains  to  the  left ;  the  same  clouds 
of  blue  pigeons  and  crows,  the  same  dust,  the  same 
groaning  camels.  As  the  road  descends  towards  the  Kur, 
trees  begin  to  appear,  and  there  are  occasional  large 
expanses  of  jungle,  which,  to  judge  from  the  frequent 
appearance  of  animals  of  all  descriptions,  must  be  a  happy 
hunting-ground  for  those  who  are  addicted  to  field  sports. 
Occasionally,  too,  one  meets  with  a  lonely  farmhouse,  or 
two  or  three  buildings  grouped  together.  These  are  for 
the  most  part  inhabited  by  German  colonists,  and  partially 
also  by  Fins.  Around  these  dwellings  are  large  vineyards. 
Wine  is  usually  to  be  had  in  abundance,  but  it  is  of  poor 
quality ;  nor  do  I  ever  recollect  discovering  w  situ  any  of 
the  wine  which,  under  the  name  of  kakatinski,  is  pur- 
chasable at  all  the  hotels  throughout  the  Trans-Caucasus. 
From  time  to  tinie,  also,  one  meets  with  the  semi-subter- 
ranean Armenian  villages  to  which  I  have  already  alluded. 
On  the  whole,  the  population  is  exceedingly  sparse,  and, 
considering  the  excellence  of  the  soil,  and  the  abundance 
of  water,  the  country  may  be  said  to  be  almost  unin- 
habited. There  are  great  tracts  of  giant  bulrushes  and 
rotting  jungle  through  which  the  driver  continues   his 

c9 


30  AUTOMATIC  RAFT  OVER  KUR. 

way  with  the  same  mad  pace  as  ever,  making  rushes  at 
all  the  dangerous  points,  such  as  bridges  more  or  less  at 
right  angles  to  the  road,  and  innocent  of  such  a  thing  as 
a  parapet.  Sometimes,  to  avoid  the  deep  sloughs  along 
the  regular  postal  track,  the  troika  is  driven  along  the 
side  of  a  hill  so  steeply  sloping  as  to  induce  strong  fears 
of  a  momentary  upsetting.  Over  and  over  again  I  pre- 
ferred to  dismount  from  my  rough  chariot  and  pick  my 
way  through  the  miry  loam  sooner  than  run  the  risk  of 
broken  bones  at  this,  the  commencement  of  my  journey. 
Soon  the  banks  of  the  Eur  are  reached — a  deep,  broad 
river,  hemmed  in  on  either  side  by  domelike  masses  of 
brown  magnesian  limestone,  running  into  each  other.  In 
many  places  the  soil  is  covered  with  a  white  saline  in- 
crustation, in  appearance  exactly  resembling  a  new  snow 
fall.  From  hence  to  the  Caspian  shores  and  beyond  them 
the  earth  is  impregnated  with  this  saline  matter,  which, 
mingling  with  the  water  of  the  streams  and  wells,  renders 
it  all  but  undrinkable.  At  the  crossing  point  is  the 
straggling  village  of  Mingatsur.  No  such  thing  as  a 
bridge  exists,  and  the  stream  is  far  too  deep,  even  when 
the  water  is  scantiest  during  the  dry  season,  to  allow  of 
an  attempt  to  ford.  It  is  here  some  hundred  yards  wide, 
and  is  traversed  by  means  of  a  raft  propelled  backwards 
and  forwards  by  the  force  of  the  current  itself.  A  very 
thick  cable,  supported  on  either  bank  by  a  tall,  stout 
framework,  is  drawn  as  tautly  as  possible  across  the 
stream.  This  passes  between  two  rollers  on  board  the 
raft,  which,  accordingly  as  the  traject  is  to  be  made  in 
one  direction  or  the  other,  is  set  with  its  side  obliquely 
to  the  current,  which  thus  drives  it  along  the  rope  to 
the  opposite  side.  This  raft  is  capable  of  transporting  a 
couple  of  large  waggons  and  a  half  dozen  camels  simul- 
taneously.   Along  the   river  marge,  owing  to    frequent 


TARTAR  FUNERAL.  21 

inundation,  the  ground  is  rich  in  the  extreme,  on 
account  of  alluvial  deposits ;  but  as,  going  eastward,  we 
leave  the  river  behind  us,  bleakness  again  comes  on,  and 
these  same  eternal  expanses  of  plain,  covered  with  short, 
burnt-up  herbage,  reach  away  right  and  left  to  the  Cau- 
casus  and  the  Persian  frontier.  Here  and  there  is  to  be 
seen  a  solitary  camel,  abandoned  by  some  passing  caravan, 
his  depleted  hump  hanging  over  like  an  empty  sack,  and 
indicating  an  entire  state  of  exhaustion. 

Towards  sunset,  as  we  drew  near  the  fourth  station 
from  Elizabethpol,  and  about  79|  versts  from  that  town, 
I  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  a  Tartar  funeral  pro- 
cession. First  came  a  body  of  horsemen,  armed  to  the 
teeth,  and  some  twenty  or  thirty  in  number.  Then  a 
single  horseman,  bearing  in  front  of  him,  across  his  saddle 
bow,  the  body,  sewn  up  in  a  litter  of  Persian  carpet, 
similar  to  that  used  in  removing  the  wounded  from 
the  field  of  battle.  The  side  poles  had  been  brought 
together  above  the  body,  and  fastened  with  rope.  Then 
followed  a  long  cavalcade  composed  of  the  friends  of  the 
deceased,  moving  at  a  very  stately  and  funereal  pace. 
There  is  a  peculiarity  in  Tartar  tombstones  which  now 
first  came  under  my  notice.  They  are  quite  unlike  the 
turban  stone  of  the  Osmanli  Turks,  or  the  flat-lying  slabs 
one  sees  among  the  Shiia  Persians  in  the  great  burying- 
grounds  in  and  around  the  sacred  city  of  Meshed.  The 
Tartar  headstones  are  about  eighteen  inches  high,  and 
represent  lance-heads  sculptured  in  stone,  or  I  might 
more  aptly  compare  them  to  gigantic  decanter  stoppers. 
After  this  station  the  mud  was  so  deep,  and  our  progress 
so  slow — the  wheels  sinking  frequently  axle  deep  into  the 
stiff  brown  mud — that  I  took  horse  and  rode  some  twenty 
versts.  As  none  but  Circassian  horse-trappings  were 
available,  the  stirrup  leather  being  little  over  eighteen 


»    MOUNTAIN  ROAD.— WRETCHED  POSTSTATION. 

inches  long,  I  suffered  frightfully  from  the  cramped 
position  which  I  was  obliged  to  adopt.  At  this  point  the 
plain  is  traversed  by  an  elevated  mountain  chain,  along 
whose  sides  the  road  proceeded  in  the  most  tiresome  zig- 
zag manner,  to  enable  the  huge  waggons  plying  between 
Baku  and  Tiflis,  with  their  four  or  six  horses  abreast,  to 
traverse  the  steep  incline.  My  conductor  would  not  follow 
this  road,  but  went  boldly  up  the  side,  from  angle  to 
angle,  of  the  zigzag  thoroughfare.  Soon  we  got  into  the 
region  of  clouds,  where  all  around  us  was  a  rolling  waste 
of  mist.  Here  and  there,  when  wind  gusts  broke  the  wall 
of  vapour,  we  caught  below  us  occasional  glimpses  of  the 
vast  plain  traversed  by  the  Eur  and  its  numerous  tribu- 
taries. In  ordinary  weather,  when  the  roads  are  in  a 
tolerably  good  condition,  by  travelling  hard  one  is  sup- 
posed to  arrive  at  Baku  in  twenty-four  hours  from  the 
westward  foot  of  this  mountain ;  but  the  weather  was  so 
severe,  the  snow  lay  so  deep,  and  the  roads  were  in  such 
exquisitely  bad  condition  that  we  were  unable  to  cover 
more  than  a  third  of  the  way  within  that  time.  There 
was  a  lonely  station  where  the  postmaster  understood 
nothing  but  Persian.  It  was  exceedingly  cold,  and  I 
passed  a  wretched  night  sleeping  upon  one  of  the  bare 
wooden  camp  beds  with  which  the  guest-rooms  of  the 
post-houses  are  supplied.  I  bought  some  red-legged 
partridges  for  a  penny  each,  but  found  them  so  tough 
that  I  was  glad  to  abandon  them  to  a  hungry-looking  cat 
who  glanced  at  me  from  the  corner.  Next  morning  I 
started  on  horseback  for  the  town  of  Shumakha.  We 
were  five  hours  in  traversing  the  most  dreadful  mountain 
tracks,  often  along  the  top  of  some  great  landslip  which 
the  torrent  at  its  base  had  sapped  from  the  mountain 
side.  The  country  seemed  alive  with  field  mice,  rats,  and 
ferrets.     Never  do  I  recollect  seeing  so  many  of  these 


SHUMAKHA,  33 

animate  together.  Great  flocks  of  wild  geese  marched 
waddlingly  on  either  side,  and  scarcely  took  the  trouble  to 
make  way  before  our  horses.  Falcons  and  kites*  too,  were 
to  be  seen  in  incredible  numbers,  doubtless  owing  to  the 
abundance  of  provision  which  they  found  at  hand. 
Leaving  the  mountain,  with  its  snow  and  fog,  behind  us, 
it  was  an  inexpressible  relief  to  issue  upon  the  dry,  warm 
plain  stretching  eastward  to  Shumakha.  This  place  has 
the  appearance  of  having  been  once  a  flourishing  town, 
but  owing  to  a  violent  earthquake  which  took  place  here 
some  years  back  there  is  scarcely  an  edifice  which  is  not 
in  a  ruinous  condition.  There  are  two  large-sized 
mosques,  one  belonging  to  the  Shiia  Mussulmans,  the 
other  to  the  Sunnites  of  the  town,  for  the  population  of 
Shumakha  is  almost  exclusively  Mussulman.  The  few 
Christians  that  there  are,  live  in  a  quarter  by  themselves. 
The  church  4ower,  crowned  with  its  green  kiosk,  rises  in 
strong  contrast  with  the  crimson  dome  and  minarets  im- 
mediately in  front.  Considerable  as  the  town  is,  at  the 
postal  station  neither  horses  nor  troikas  were  to  be  found 
for  the  moment,  and  I  was  obliged  to  spend  another  night 
upon  the  rude  benches  of  the  guest-chamber,  starting 
again  early  on  the  morning  of  Wednesday,  the  27th,  and 
passing  another  exceedingly  disagreeable  ?n&  difficult  series 
of  mountains  deeply  covered  with  snow. 

Passing  through  Maraza,  the  station  of  Xorezsafen, 
thirty-one  versts  from  Baku,  is  reached.  Here  the  postal 
station  consists  of  an  antique  castellated  structure,  in  the 
old  Moorish  style,  coeval  with  the  days  of  Tartar  inde- 
pendence, and  known  as  Sheik  Abass'  house.  At  the  next 
station,  some  sixteen  versts  farther  on,  my  patience  was 
sorely  tried.  The  station  itself  consisted  of  a  series  of 
extensive  farm-buildings,  and  there  seemed  no  lack  of 
troikas  and  horses  standing  about  in  the  muddy  places 


24  FIRST  SIGHT  OF  CASPIAN. 

which  represented  stable-yards.  A  wedding  was  in  pro- 
gress, and  the  driver  whose  turn  it  was  to  conduct  the 
vehicles  could  on  no  condition  be  induced  to  turn  his  back 
to  the  good  cheer  and  vodka  of  the  festivities.  After  a 
prolonged  and  wearisome  debate  among  the  company  it 
was  finally  agreed  to  send  a  driver,  but  I  had  .scarcely 
made  two  or  three  versts  across  a  most  disagreeably  rocky 
ground  when  I  perceived  that  my  conductor  had  not  the 
slightest  intention  of  pushing  on  to  Baku,  and  was  trying 
every  possible  ruse  in  order  to  make  out  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  reach  my  destination  that  evening.  It  was  far 
better,  he  said,  to  turn  back  and  partake  of  the  good 
things  which  were  being  distributed  at  the  marriage 
feast,  and  to  pass  the  night  in  comfort,  instead  of  pushing 
across  the  uncomfortable  ground  which  lay  between  us 
and  Baku.  There  were,  he  said,  deep  rivers  to  be  crossed, 
and  brigands  were  notoriously  numerous  along  their 
banks.  Finding  me  inexorable,  he  first  upset  one  of  the 
horses,  and  then  managed  to  smash  his  harness.  After  a 
long  halt  in  the  cold,  and  bitterly  cold  it  was,  a  com- 
bination of  knotty  straps  and  rotten  ropes  was  rigged  up, 
and  we  went  forward,  at  as  slow  a  pace  as  it  was  possible 
for  a  troika  to  move  at  without  standing  still  altogether. 
The  horses  had,  apparently,  as  great  an  objection  to  go 
forward  as  the  driver,  and  wandered  incontinently  all 
over  the  ground  in  any  direction  but  that  required  of 
them.  At  length  the  fellow  declared  that  with  these 
horses  it  was  impossible  to  go  on,  and  I  was  obliged  to 
sit  waiting  for  two  hours  while  he  returned  to  the  last 
station  for  others.  It  was  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning 
when,  after  a  weary  night  drive,  we  came  in  sight  of 
Baku,  lying  some  ten  versts  off;  the  Caspian,  glittering 
beyond,  being  seen  at  intervals  between  the  low  hills  that 
flanked  its  border.     The  country  at  this  point  is  inex- 


TARTAR  CARTS.— ENTERING  BAKU.  25 

pressibly  dreary  and  volcanic-looking;  the  salt  incrusta- 
tions which  I  have  already  mentioned  are  thicker  and 
more  extensive  than  ever.    Here  and  there  were  straggling 
Tartar  villages,  with  their  flat  houses  and  preposterously 
large  conical  chimneys,  looking  like  gigantic  mushrooms. 
From  time  to  time  we  passed  along  the  road  the  peculiar- 
looking  carts  characteristic  of  the  country.     The  wheels 
were  not  less  than  eight  feet  in  diameter,  and  very  close 
to  each  other,  the  body  of  the  cart  being  but  two  feet 
wide,  a  structure  like  a  pulpit  rising  in  front,  gaudily 
painted,  and  probably  intended  for  the  use  of  the  con- 
ductor.    The  centre  of  gravity  of  the  vehicle  was  pitched 
so  high,  the  wheels  were  so  tall,  and  by  their  proximity 
afforded  such   a  slender  base,    that   it  was   a  matter  of 
wonder  that  at  each  jolt  over  the  stony  ground  the  entire 
contrivance  did  not  turn  over.      It  bore  no  bad  resem- 
blance to  a  great  grass-spider  with  his  long  legs.     Small 
cows,   too,  were  to  be  met,  with   burdens  strapped  upon 
their  backs,  as  one  sees  them  among  the  nomad  Kurds 
of  Persia ;  and  at  length,  driving  at  breakneck  pace  down 
the  steeply-winding  road,  the  troika  jostling  and  reeling 
over  the  rocky  surface  streaked  with  the  wheel-marks  of 
ages,  we  dashed  into  the  outskirts  of  Baku.     Away  on 
the  left,  crowning  the  heights,  and  scattered  in  apparently 
unlimited  numbers  over  the  country  northwards,  were  to 
be  seen  strange-looking  constructions  resembling  enormous 
sentry-boxes,  and  some  twenty-five  feet  in  height.    These 
were  erected  over  the  petroleum  wells  of  Balahan6  and 
Sulahand.    Entering  Baku  itself,  the  driver  descended  for  a 
moment  from  his  seat  to  tie  up  the  bells  hanging  from  the 
wooden  arch  above  the  central  horse,  the  municipal  regula- 
tions forbidding  the  entry  of  postal  vehicles  accompanied 
by  their  usual  jangling  uproar,  lest  the  horses  of  the  town 
phaetons  should  take  fright.  Baku  merits  a  chapter  of  its  own. 


BAKU. 


CHAPTER  H. 

BAKU. 

Baku— Apecheron  promontory — Country  round  Baku — Armenian  emigrant* 
from  Turkish  territory — Russian  town — Old  Baku— Ancient  Tartar  town 
— Old  fortifications — Citadel  —Bazaars — Mosques — Palace  of  Tartar  Khans 
— Caspian  steamers — Municipal  garden — Mixed  population  —Bazaar  held 
in  aid  of  victims  of  Orenburg  fire — National  costumes  and  types — Nature  of 
population — Banished  Christian  sects — Malakani  and  Scopts — Mercurius 
Company — Russian  girls'  dress — Origin  of  name  of  Baku — Bituminous 
dust — Laying  it  with  astatki — Boring  for  petroleum — Distilling  and 
purifying — Utilization  of  refuse  for  steamers — Probable  adaptation  to 
railroads — Island  of  Tcheliken — Fire  temple— Guebre  fire-worship. 

Baku,  a  few  years  back  little  if  at  all  known  to  Europeans, 
is  a  place  full  of  interest,  and  one  destined  to  play  an 
important  part  in  the  future  of  the  Caspian  regions.  It 
is  situated  on  the  western  shores  of  the  Caspian  Sea,  on 
the  promontory  of  Apscheron,  which  juts  out  eastward, 
and  is  the  point  nearest  to  Krasnavodsk,  on  the  opposite 
littoral.  The  surroundings  are  of  the  same  bleak  and 
desert  kind  which  characterises  almost  the  entire  circuit  of 
the  sea.  In  fact,  the  Steppes  commence  far  west  of  the 
latter.  For  leagues  around  not  a  blade  of  grass  is  to  be 
seen,  and  not  even  a  shrub  breaks  the  arid  expanse  of 
broken  strata  and  scorched  marl.  Here  and  there,  at  long 
intervals,  is  a  Tartar  village,  or  the  crumbling  remains  of 
some  ancient  Persian  town.  At  midday  not  a  living  thing 
is  visible,  and  the  white  glare  of  an  Eastern  sun  reveals 
with  painful  distinctness  every  detail  of  the  ghastly  desola- 
tion.   The  houses  are  all  of  one  story,  flat-roofed,  and  built 


BAKU.  27 

of  great  slabs  of  kneaded  clay  dried  in  the  sun.  Were  it 
not  for  the  huge  conical  chimneys,  which  rise  like  watch- 
towers  from  the  flat  roofs,  at  a  distance  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  distinguish  these  clay-coloured  dwellings  from  the 
surrounding  soil.  Occasionally  one  sees  a  semi-subterranean 
Armenian  village  inhabited  by  emigrants  from  Turkish 
territory.  These  people  adhere  to  their  old  system  of  con- 
struction, living  in  burrows  covered  over  by  low  mounds  of 
earth,  and  entered  by  a  descending  staircase.  It  is  quite 
possible  for  a  stranger,  unaccustomed  to  these  dwellings,  to 
ride  or  walk  across  an  entire  village  without  being  aware  of 
its  existence. 

A  semi-circle  of  rugged  scorched  hills  of  grey  sand- 
stone, highest  towards  the  south,  and  dying  away  north- 
ward into  the  plain,  encloses  Baku  on  the  land  side.  The 
northern  portion  of  the  town  is  altogether  European  in 
appearance,  with  yellow  stone-fronted  houses  precisely 
similar  to  those  of  a  Western  Bussian  town.  There  is  a 
large  square,  round  which  are  planted  a  few  stunted 
bushes  and  acacias.  The  orthodox  Bussian  Church,  of 
severely  simple  architecture,  occupies  the  south-western 
side,  just  within  the  old  fortifications;  while  on  the 
northern  side  is  an  equally  stern-looking  Gregorian 
Armenian  place  of  worship.  Close  by  this  square  is  the 
ancient  Tartar  town,  the  old  fortifications  still  quite 
perfect,  save  where  a  couple  of  bastion  towers  show  the 
yawning  breaches  effected  by  the  Bussian  artillery  some 
fifty  years  ago.  The  walls  are  lofty,  solidly  constructed, 
and  flanked  by  numerous  circular  towers.  A  fauste-braye, 
or  lower  exterior  rampart,  adds  to  the  strength  of  the  place. 
The  northern  gateway  is  covered  by  a  heavy  stone  ravelin, 
evidently  of  much  later  construction  than  the  town  walls.  In 
the  midst  of  the  sea-front  of  the  town,  its  eastern  side,  rises 
an  immense  circular  tower,  with  massive  outlying  flank  of 


28  OLD  PALACE.— GARDENS. 

oblong  plan,  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high,  and  which 
at  present  serves  as  a  lighthouse.  Around  its  base  are 
the  ruins  of  the  old  bazaar,  part  of  which  is  now  converted 
into  a  school  for  children,  and  close  by  is  the  modern 
thoroughly  Oriental  bazaar,  where,  in  a  series  of  vaulted 
passages,  opening  in  the  roof,  Armenian  and  Persian  mer- 
chants sit  cross-legged  in  the  midst  of  an  infinity  of  articles 
of  almost  every  conceivable  kind — bowls  of  spice,  packages 
of  starch  and  candles,  rolls  of  calico,  boxes  of  tea,  cases  of 
scissors,  combs,  brushes,  ammunition,  pipes,  tobacco ;  in 
fact,  it  would  be  hard  to  think  of  a  merchandise  which  these 
dealers  do  not  each  and  all  offer  to  the  public.  This  tower 
is  of  considerable  age,  and  was  built  during  the  reigns  of 
the  old  Tartar  Khans  of  Baku.  Not  far  from  it  are  some 
very  old  and  solidly  built  mosques  of  bluish-grey  stone, 
profusely  ornamented  with  Gufic  inscriptions,  and  bearing 
palpable  marks  of  the  Bussian  artillery  fire.  The  streets 
are  narrow,  and  the  houses  of  the  genuine  ogive-windowed, 
fiat-roofed  Persian  type.  The  old  Tartar  town,  that  lying 
within  the  ramparts,  slopes  up  the  hill  on  whose  eastern 
side  it  is  built,  and  at  the  top  rises  the  palace  of  the  former 
Tartar  Khans,  still  in  a  state  of  excellent  preservation,  and 
now  made  use  of  as  a  Bussian  artillery  depot.  For  a  mile 
along  the  water's  edge  are  numerous  piers,  alongside  of 
which  steamers  of  a  thousand  tons  can  lie  to  discharge 
their  cargoes.  There  are  usually  eight  or  ten  merchant 
steamers  in  port,  besides  a  couple  of  steam  corvettes 
belonging  to  the  Caspian  flotilla.  At  the  southern 
extremity  of  the  town,  immediately  outside  the  old 
walls,  a  garden  has  been  planted,  which,  owing  to  the 
entire  absence  of  water  and  the  bituminous  nature  of 
the  soil,  requires  the  most  assiduous  care  to  keep  it  in 
existence.  The  environs  of  Baku  itself  being  entirely 
destitute  of  trees  and  flowers  those  of  the  public  garden 


GVEBRE  PRIEST.  *9 

had  to  be  brought  from  Persia  at  a  great  expense.  There 
are  the  yellow  flowering  broom  (Planta  genista),  which 
in  this  climate  attains  the  dimensions  of  an  ordinary 
apple  tree ;  large  rose  trees,  and  twenty  others  for  which 
I  know  no  name.  Every  Sunday  and  Thursday  a  military 
band  plays  from  sunset  until  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening. 

In  the  most  cosmopolitan  town  in  Europe  it  would  be 
hard  to  match  the  mixed  population  that  throng  these 
gardens.  Shortly  after  my  arrival,  a  kind  of  bazaar  was 
held  in  aid  of  the  victims  of  the  fire  at  Orenburg ;  and, 
perhaps,  in  prospectu  for  the  victims  of  the  coming  cam- 
paign. The  Bed  Gross  Society  presided.  There  were  few 
nations  in  Europe  unrepresented.  All  the  more  strange 
that  few  even  know  of  this  town  of  Baku — separated  but 
by  the  Caspian's  breadth  from  the  borders  of  the  vast 
desert  reaching  far  away  to  the  limits  of  Cathay  and  the 
regions  from  which  Marco  Polo  brought  back  his  tale 
of  wonders.  The  expedition  which  was  to  penetrate  into 
hitherto  unknown  regions  away  across  the  Steppes  was 
represented  at  the  gathering.  Long  white-robed  Cos- 
sacks and  blue- vested  dragoons  thronged  the  green  alleys 
with  training  sabres,  and  mingled  with  an  Eastern  popula- 
tion. The  eye  is  attracted  by  a  reverend  form  reclining 
on  a  bench,  under  the  shadow  of  the  clustering  trees. 
His  long  blue  robe,  coal-black  plaited  hair,  and  white 
turban  bespeak  him  a  priest.  But  he  is  one  of  a  sect 
long  passed  away.  He  is  the  last  priest  of  Zoroaster's 
creed  that  lingers  yet  in  a  region  once  all  its  own.  He 
sits  gazing  dreamily  at  the  shifting  throng  before  him, 
thinking,  perhaps,  of  the  past  glories  of  Iran,  *  quenched 
with  the  flame  in  Mithra's  caves/  Close  by  is  a  group  of 
young  men  whose  blue,  green,  or  brown  robes,  and  spot- 
less white  turbans,  show  them  to  be  Sottas,  theological 
students,  priestly  aspirants  of  the  Shiia  Mussulman  sect. 


3©       NATIONAL  COSTUMES.— RELIGIOUS  SECTS. 

Their  faces  are  handsome  and  well  cut,   bat  bear  the 
unmistakable  stamp  of  dissipation.    In  the  throng  which 
saunters  along  the  leafy  alleys  under  the  twinkling  lamps 
suspended  from  the  trees  are  to  be  seen  the  costumes,  all 
of  them  strongly  contrasting,  of  Germans,  Swedes,  Geor- 
gians,  Jews,  Persians,   Armenians,   Poles,   Russians,  and 
Tartars,  not  to  speak  of  those  of  the  different  religious 
sects  which  obtain   in    Baku.     There  is  the  Jew   with 
his  black  cloth  cap,  sombre  robe,  and  long  staff;   the 
Armenian,  with  sleek  black  silk  tunic,   flat-peaked  cap 
of  the  same  colour,  and  belt  of  massive  pieces  of  carved 
enamelled  silver ;    the  Georgian,   vested  almost  like  the 
Circassian,  with  silver  mounted  cartridge  tubes  in  horizon- 
tal rows  on  either  breast,  and  guardless  Caucasian  sabre, 
the  richly-mounted  hilt  entering  with  the  blade  up  to 
the  pommel  in  the  leather  sheath.    The  Bussian  peasant 
at  all  seasons  wears  the  usual  long  sheep-skin  tunic,  the 
wool  within,  the  amber  yellow-tanned  skin  outwards,  long 
leather  boots,  and  a  far  hat.    The  Tartar  has  his  great 
woolly  hat,   like  that  of  the  Grenadier  Guards,   and  a 
curious  nondescript  flowing  robe  of  various  colours.    The 
Persian  has  one  invariable,  distinctive  mark :  his  tall  hat 
of  black  Astrakan  wool,   oval  in  section,   the  top  often 
modified  at  the  taste  of  the  owner  to  a  more  or  less  mitred 
shape.    The  Swedes,  Germans,  Russians,  and  others  of  a 
superior  class,  all  wear  a  strictly  European  costume.    The 
couple    of   American  engineers    present  wore  a  strictly 
Yankee  garb.    Among  all  the  frequenters  of  the  garden 
promenade,  by  far  the  most  curious  were  those  belonging 
to  different  Christian  sects.    From  what  I  have  learned 
from  different  sources  it  seems  there  was  a  moment  when 
the  efforts  directed  towards  national  unity  of  creed  per- 
mitted of  no  departure  from  the  strictly  orthodox  faith. 
Poles    and  Russians  who   held    fantastic  Nonconformist 


RELIGIOUS  SECTS.  31 

ideas  were  relegated  to  the  borders  of  the  Caspian.  In 
the  case  of  the  Poles  there  was  probably  also  a  certain 
mixture  of  political  ideas.  Among  these  religions  sects, 
after  the  fire-worshipping  priest,  I  shall  mention  but  two— 
the  Malakani  and  the  Scopts.  The  first  differ  bui  little 
from  the  orthodox  creed,  save  that  they  insist  upon  making 
use  of  milk  and  butter  during  the  Lenten  period.  I  was 
unable  to  distinguish  any  difference  in  dress  between  the 
male  members  of  this  congregation  and  the  same  sex  of 
similar  nationality.  The  ladies  wear  old-fashioned  gowns 
with  wide  skirts  of  the  brightest  possible  colours,  emerald 
green  and  scarlet,  lilac  or  blue.  On  the  head  is  a  hand- 
kerchief of  variegated  hues,  knotted  under  the  chin  in 
Scandinavian  fashion,  the  point  falling  between  the 
shoulders.  This  sect  is  sub-divided  into  two  sections. 
One  considers  it  lawful  to  sing  during  Divine  service,  the 
other  confines  itself  to  slow  dancing  to  the  accompaniment 
of  a  monotonous  drumming  executed  by  some  members 
of  the  congregation.  I  believe  that  in  other  respects  both 
sub-divisions  accept  the  usual  dogmas.  Of  the  Scopts, 
owing  to  their  very  peculiar  ideas,  I  must  say  but  little. 
They  have  curious  notions  about  the  possibilities  of  exces- 
sive population  before  the  arrival  of  the  Day  of  Judgment. 
They  devote  themselves  to  the  production  of  capital  and 
the  limitation  of  offspring.  One  child  is  allowed  to  each 
married  couple.  Both  sexes  then  undergo  a  peculiar  and 
barbarous  mutilation.  This  sect  lies  under  the  special 
ban  of  Russian  law.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  all  its  com- 
ponent members  inhabiting  Baku,  the  only  place  in  which 
I  ever  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  or  inquiring  about 
them,  live  in  the  same  street,  and  are  mostly  bakers. 
The  men  are  easily  recognised  in  the  streets  by  their 
melancholy,  downcast  air,  and  pale,  shrivelled  faces,  as 
well  as  by  their  semi- Judaic  garb.    The  German  inhabitants 


32      ORIGIN  OF  NAME  BAKU.— BITUMINOUS  DUST. 

are  few  in  number,  either  belonging  to  large  commercial 
houses,  or  to  the  extensive  petroleum  works  near  Baku, 
about  which  I  shall  have  something  to  say  later  on. 
The  Swedes  are  mostly  employed  in  connection  with  a 
steamship  company  founded  by  their  countrymen,  and 
which  rivals  the  Mercurius,  the  Bussian  shipowners' 
company  on  the  Caspian  waters.  Among  the  brightest 
and  most  graceful  costumes  in  these  garden  promenades 
was  that  of  some  young  Bussian  girls  of  the  higher  classes, 
who  on  gala  occasions  don  the  typical  dress  of  the 
peasantry.  This  consists  of  a  black  or  red  skirt,  with 
broad  blue,  red,  and  white  parallel  lines  around  the  lower 
edge,  turning  sharply  square  at  the  corners  like  those 
patterns  one  sees  in  old  Pompeian  frescoes.  A  small  black 
apron  with  the  same  border  is  added.  A  white  muslin 
handkerchief  crossed  on  the  breast,  knotted  and  pendant 
behind,  and  a  wide-leafed  straw  hat  with  pendant  edges, 
complete  the  costume. 

The  name  of  Baku  means  'a  place  beaten  by  the 
winds,'  Never  did  any  locality  better  merit  the  appella- 
tion. Even  in  these  hot  summer  months,  when  at  times 
we  lie  gasping  for  a  breath  of  air,  sudden  storms  arise, 
sometimes  from  the  seaward,  sometimes  from  off  the  land. 
These  storms  raise  clouds  of  dun-yellow  dust,  whirling  in 
columns  like  the  sand  before  the  simoom.  This  dust  has 
a  particularly  disagreeable  nature,  all  its  own.  All  around 
Baku  the  ground  is  sodden  with  natural  issues  of  naphtha. 
In  some  places  the  earth  is  converted  into  a  natural  asphalte, 
hard  during  cold  weather,  but  into  which  the  foot  sinks  a 
couple  of  inches  at  midday  in  summer.  Add  to  this  that, 
owing  to  the  scarcity  of  water,  the  streets  are  moistened 
with  coarse  black  residual  naphtha,  a  treacly  fluid  which 
remains  after  the  distillation  of  the  raw  petroleum, 
and    termed    astaiki     in     Bussia.      It    effectually   lays 


BORING  FOR  PETROLEUM.  33 

the  dust  during  fifteen  days.  After  this  period  a  thick 
brown  dust  lies  four  or  five  inches  deep  in  the  roadway, 
over  which  the  numerous  phaetons,  or  street  carriages, 
glide  so  softly  and  noiselessly  that  the  foot  passenger  is 
frequently  in  danger  of  being  run  over.  When  a  north 
or  west  wind  arises,  the  air  is  thick  with  impalpable  marly 
earth,  combined  with  bitumen.  The  least  glow  of  sun- 
shine fixes  this  indelibly  in  one's  clothes.  No  amount  of 
brushing  or  washing  can  remove  it.  Perhaps  I  cannot 
here  do  better  than  enter  on  a  short  description  of  the 
sources  of  mineral  oil  lying  around  Baku,  which  well 
merits  the  title  of  the  '  Oil  City '  of  the  East. 

The  shores  of  Baku  bay  north  of  the  town  trend 
towards  the  east,  and  some  five  or  six  miles  distant  are 
the  petroleum,  or,  as  they  are  termed,  the  naphtha  springs 
of  Balahane  and  Sulahan6,  the  former  fifteen,  the  latter 
eighteen  verBts  from  the  town.  The  surrounding  district 
is  almost  entirely  destitute  of  vegetation  ;  and  in  its  midst 
are  some  black-looking  brick  buildings,  interspersed  with 
those  curious  wooden  structures,  which  I  have  mentioned 
in  describing  the  approaches  to  Baku,  twenty  feet  high, 
and  resembling  Continental  windmills  or  gigantic  sentry 
boxes.  These  latter  are  the  pump  or  well  houses  covering 
the  borings  for  oil,  and  in  which  the  crude  liquid  is  brought 
to  the  surface.  The  odour  of  petroleum  pervades  the 
entire  locality,  and  the  ground  is  black  with  waste  liquid 
and  natural  infiltrations.  Boring  for  naphtha  is  conducted 
much  in  the  same  manner  as  that  for  coal.  An  iron  bit, 
gouge-shaped,  is  fitted  to  a  boring  bar  eight  or  ten  feet 
in  length,  which  is  successively  fitted  to  other  lengths  as 
the  depth  of  the  piercing  increases.  This  depth  varies 
from  fifty  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards,  this  difference 
existing  even  at  very  short  horizontal  distances,  some- 
tunes  of  not  over  forty  yards.    Layers  of  sand  and  rock 

VOL.  I.  D 


34  DISTILLATION  OF  PETROLEUM. 

have  to  be  pierced.  It  is  in  the  sand  that  often  the  greatest 
difficulties  are  to  be  met  with.  A  loose  boulder  will  meet 
the  boring  tool,  and,  displacing  itself,  leave  the  passage 
free.  But  when  the  rods  are  withdrawn  to  allow  the 
introduction  of  the  tubes  which  form  the  lining  of  the 
well,  the  boulder  falls  back  to  its  place,  and  baffles  all 
attempts  to  continue  the  orifice.  This  boulder  difficulty 
is  the  great  terror  of  those  commencing  to  bore.  Some- 
times, after  a  lengthened  discharge  of  light  carburetted 
hydrogen,  the  naphtha  rises  to  the  surface,  and  even  flows 
over  abundantly,  occasionally  springing  fountain-like  into 
the  air  to  a  height  of  eight  or  ten  feet  for  hours  at  a 
time,  as  in  the  case  of  the  artesian  well.  In  such  cases 
the  ground  around  the  boring  is  often  flooded  to  a  depth 
of  six  inches  with  the  mineral  oil,  which,  to  avoid  the 
danger  of  a  conflagration,  has  to  be  let  off  by  channels 
constructed  so  as  to  lead  out  to  seaward.  Under  ordinary 
circumstances,  it  has  to  be  drawn  up  from  a  considerable 
depth.  The  boring  is  generally  ten,  or  at  most  eighteen, 
inches  in  diameter.  A  long  bucket,  or  rather  a  tube 
stopped  at  the  bottom  and  fifteen  feet  in  length,  is  lowered 
into  the  well,  and  drawn  up  fall  of  crude  petroleum — 
fifty  gallons  at  a  time.  This,  which  is  a  blue-pink  trans- 
parent liquid,  is  poured  into  a  rudely  constructed,  plank- 
lined  trough  at  the  door  of  the  well  house,  whence  it  flows 
by  an  equally  rude  channel  to  the  distillery.  The  distilla- 
tion is  conducted  at  a  temperature  commencing  with  140 
degrees — much  lower,  I  am  told,  than  the  first  boiling 
point  for  that  from  Pennsylvania.  When  no  more  oil 
comes  over  at  this  heat,  the  result  is  withdrawn  and  the 
temperature  increased  by  ten  degrees.  This  second  result 
is  also  laid  aside,  and,  the  heat  being  again  increased,  a 
third  distillation  is  carried  on  until  no  farther  easily 
evaporated  liquid  remains.     This  last  is  the  best  quality 


ASTATKL— ADAPTATION  TO  STEAM  NAVIGATION.  35 

of  petroleum  for  lamps.  That  which  preceded  it  is  the 
second  quality ;  and  the  first,  or  highly  volatile  liquid,  is 
either  thrown  away  or  mixed  with  the  best  and  second 
best  as  an  adulteration.  The  thick  dark  brown  treacly 
fluid  remaining  after  distillation  is  termed  astatki,  and  is 
that  used  for  the  irrigation  of  the  streets.  The  distilled 
petroleum,  if  used  in  lamps,  would  quickly  clog  the  wick 
with  a  carbonaceous  deposit.  With  a  view  to  obviating 
this,  previous  to  being  offered  for  sale  it  is  placed  in  a 
reservoir,  within  which  revolves  a  large  paddle-wheel. 
Sulphuric  acid  is  first  added,  and,  after  being  allowed  to 
settle,  the  clear  top  liquor  is  drawn  off,  and  similarly 
treated  with  caustic  potash.  Affer  this  it  is  ready  for 
sale.  Up  to  the  present,  the  residues,  after  the  acid  and 
potash  treatments,  have  not  been  utilised.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  valuable  products  will  ultimately  be  derived 
from  them.  With  the  astatki,  or  remnant  after  the  first 
distillation,  the  case  is  different.  For  years  past  this 
has  been  the  only  fuel  used  on  board  the  war  ships  and 
mercantile  steamers  of  the  Caspian.  At  Baku  its  price  is 
only  nominal,  vast  quantities  being  poured  into  the  sea 
for  lack  of  stowing  space  or  demand.  It  is  used  in  cook- 
ing apparatus,  and  for  the  production  of  gas  for  light- 
ing purposes.  In  the  latter  case  it  is  allowed  to  trickle 
slowly  into  retorts  raised  to  a  dull  red  heat,  pure  gas  with 
little  graphite  being  the  result.  Weight  for  weight,  this 
waste  product  gives  four  times  as  great  a  volume  of  gas 
as  ordinary  coal.  By  distillation  at  a  high  temperature 
and  treatment  with  an  alkaline  substance,  a  product  is 
obtained  which  is  used  as  a  substitute  for  oil  in  greasing 
machinery. 

Apart  from  the  local  use  of  petroleum  for  lighting 
purposes,  and  its  exportation  for  a  similar  use,  is  its  appli- 
cation  to    steam    navigation.     With    the    old-fashioned 

d2 


36  ASTATKI  FUEL. 

boilers  in  use,  which  have  a  central  opening  running  longi- 
tudinally, no  modification  is  necessary  for  the  application 
of  the  new  fuel.  A  reservoir,  containing  some  hundred 
pounds'  weight  of  the  refuse  (astatki),  is  furnished  with  a 
small  tube,  bearing  another  at  its  extremity,  a  few  inches 
long,  and  at  right  angles  with  the  conduit.  From  this 
latter  it  trickles  slowly.  Close  by  is  the  mouth  of  another 
tube,  connected  with  the  boiler.  A  pan  containing  tow  or 
wood  saturated  with  astatki  is  first  introduced  to  heat  the 
water,  and,  once  the  slightest  steam  pressure  is  produced, 
a  jet  of  vapour  is  thrown  upon  the  dropping  bituminous 
fluid,  which  is  thus  converted  into  spray..  A  light  is 
applied,  and  then  a  roaring  deluge  of  fire  inundates  the 
central  opening  of  the  boiler.  It  is  a  kind  of  self-acting 
blow-pipe.  This  volume  of  fire  can  be  controlled  by  one 
qtan,  by  means  of  the  two  stop-cocks,  as  easily  as  the 
flame  in  an  ordinary  gas  jet.  This  I  have  repeatedly 
witnessed  on  board  the  Caspian  steamers.  As  regards  the 
expense,  I  give  the  following  data  on  the  authority  of  a 
merchant  captain  who  has  used  naphtha  fuel  for  years. 
His  steamer  is  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  tons,  and  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty  horse-power.  He  burns  thirty  pood 
per  hour  of  astatki  to  obtain  a  speed  of  thirteen  nautical 
miles  in  the  same  time.  One  pood  is  about  thirty-three 
English  pounds  (16  kilogrammes),  and  costs  on  an  aver- 
age from  five  to  six  pence.  Thus  a  twenty  hours'  voyage 
at  full  speed  for  such  a  vessel  costs  about  twelve  pounds 
sterling.  The  fuel  is  as  safe  as  and  occupies  much  less 
space  than  the  amount  of  coal  necessary  to  produce  a 
similar  effect,  not  to  speak  of  the  enormous  difference  in 
price  and  the  saving  of  manual  labour.  Two  engineers 
and  two  stokers  suffice  for  a  steamer  of  a  thousand  tons 
burden.  In  view  of  the  immense  supply  of  natural  petro- 
leum, as  yet  only  very  slightly  developed,  and  its  application 


CARBURETTED  HYDROGEN.— FIRE  TEMPLE.      37 

to  the  already  guaranteed  railway  from  Tiflis  to  Baku,  ahd 
to  the  inevitable  future  ones  beyond  the  Caspian  over  the 
plains  of  the  far  East  connecting  with  that  already  con- 
structed from  Erasnavodsk  to  the  new  Russian  possessions 
of  the  AkhaJ  Tekkfi,  I  think  this  subject  is  worthy  of  every 
attention.  Yet  there  are  proprietors  of  large  tracts  of 
petroleum-bearing  ground  whose  capital  rests  unproductive 
because  of  a  want  of  demand.  The  island  of  Tcheliken,  not 
far  from  Erasnavodsk,  teems  with  the  precious  liquid. 
The  seaward  cliffs  are  black  with  its  streams  flowing  idly 
into  the  sea ;  and  a  natural  paraffin,  or  '  mineral  wax,'  is 
found  abundantly  in  the  island  and  in  the  low  hills  a 
hundred  versts  west  of  Erasnavodsk.  All  round  Baku  the 
ground  is  full  of  naphtha.  In  hundreds  of  places  it  exhales 
from  the  ground  and  burns  freely  when  a  light  is  applied. 
Only  a  couple  of  months  before  my  visit  its  volatile  pro- 
ducts produced  a  remarkable  effect  a  few  miles  south  of 
Baku.  A  large  earth  cliff  fronting  the  sea  was  tumbled 
'over  as  by  an  earthquake  shock,  and,  as  I  saw  myself,  huge 
boulders  and  weighty  ships'  boilers  were  thrown  a  hundred 
yards.  In  some  places  I  have  seen  fifty  or  sixty  furnaces 
for  burning  lime,  the  flame  used  being  solely  that  of  the 
carburetted  hydrogen  issuing  naturally  from  fissures  in  the 
earth.  This  brings  me  to  one  of  the  most  curious  features 
of  Baku  and  its  environs.  It  Was  one  of  the  last  strong- 
holds of  the  '  Fire- worshippers,'  and  I  am  sure  that  had 
Thomas  Moore  ever  travelled  so  far  eastward  he  would  have 
made  'Hafid'  figure  rather  on  the  top  of  the  gigantife 
double  citadel-tower  (150  feet  high)  than  on  the  peak  of  ah 
imaginary  mountain  overhanging  the  waters  of  the  Sea  bf 
Oman. 

In  the  midst  of  the  busy  petroleum  Works  of  Sulahan6 
and  Balahane,  where  the  chimneys  of  the  distilling  wof kfe 
no  doubt  far  surpass  in  height  the  fire  towers  of  old,  id  a 


38  FIRE  TEMPLE. 

real  specimen  of  the  religious  architecture  and  practices 
of  ante-Mussulman  days.  After  stumbling  through  the 
black  naphtha  mud,  and  over  uneven  foundations,  a  hole 
roughly  broken  in  a  modern  wall  gives  entry  to  a  small 
chamber,  twenty  feet  by  fifteen,  adjoining  which  is  a 
smaller  one  to  the  right.  In  the  opposite  wall  and  to  the 
left  is  another  low  door  opening  on  a  semi-circular  yard, 
fifteen  feet  wide  at  its  greater  diameter.  It  is  the  re- 
maining half  of  a  once  celebrated  fire  temple,  or  rather  of 
the  small  monastery  connected  with  it.  The  exterior 
wall,  eleven  or  twelve  feet  high,  on  which  is  a  parapeted 
walk,  is  composed  of  rough  stone.  From  the  courtyard 
one  can  enter  thirty-five  roomy  cells,  accessible  by  as  many 
doors.  These  were  the  cells  of  the  former  devotees  of  fire, 
or  perhaps  the  accommodation  for  the  pilgrims  who  came 
to  visit  the  shrine,  such  as  we  see  at  celebrated  religious 
tombs  in  Persia  to-day.  These  cells  formerly  enclosed  a 
circular  space,  one-half  of  which  has  been  demolished  or  has 
fallen  to  ruin,  and  a  modern  wall  through  which  one  enters 
is  the  diameter  of  the  circle.  Looking  northward,  and  sup 
ported  by  three  double  sets  of  pillars,  is  the  ancient  chief 
entrance,  above  which  the  parapet  walk  is  continued.  This 
entrance  has  been  long  walled  up,  and  the  only  access  is  given 
by  the  hole  broken  in  the  modern  wall  behind.  The  cells 
formerly  occupied  by  the  monks  or  pilgrims  are  now  rented 
at  a  moderate  price  to  some  of  the  workmen  who  belong  to 
the  factories  immediately  surrounding,  by  the  priest,  the 
last  of  his  race,  who  still  lingers  beside  his  unfrequented 
altars.  Near  the  western  wall  of  the  semi-circular  enclosure 
is  the  real  fire  shrine.  It  is  a  square  platform,  ascended 
by  three  steps,  of  a  little  over  one  foot  each  in  height. 
The  upper  portion  of  the  platform  is  about  sixteen  feet 
square,  and  at  each  angle  rises  a  monolith  column  of  grey 
stone,  some  sixteen  feet  high  and  seven  feet  broad  at  the 


GUEBRE  WORSHIP.  39 

base,  supporting  a  gently  sloping  stone  roof.  In  the  centre 
of  the  platform  is  a  small  iron  tube,  where  the  sacred  fire 
once  burned.  North,  south,  and  east  of  this  shed-like 
temple  are  three  wells  with  slightly  raised  borders,  the 
contents  of  which  could  at  a  previous  period  be  lighted  at 
will.  Now,  owing  to  the  drain  on  the  subterranean  gases, 
this  is  no  longer   possible.    In  ihe  chamber  which  we 

•  enter  through  the  rough  hole  in  the  modern  wall  we  find 
the  only  remnants  of  the  old  worship.  The  priest  is  called 
for.  He  is  the  same  we  have  seen  lounging  meditatively 
in  the  gardens  of  Baku.  He  dons  a  long  white  robe,  taken 
from  a  rude  cupboard  in  the  white-washed  wall,  and, 
drawing  near  a  kind  of  wide  altar  tomb  at  the  south- 
western corner  of  the  chamber,  railed  off  from  the  outer 
portion  of  the  apartment  by  a  low  wooden  balustrade, 
applies  a  lighted  match,  which  he  has  previously  sought  for 
in  a  most  prosaic  manner  in  his  breeches  pocket,  to  a  small 
iron  tube.  A  jet  of  pale  blue  lambent  flame  is  produced, 
rising  to  the  height  of  eight  inches  or  a  foot.  Seizing  the 
rope  of  a  bell  hung  over  his  head,  he  rings  half  a  dozen 
strokes  upon  it,  then  takes  in  his  hand  a  small  bell,  and, 
ringing  it  continually,  proceeds  to  bow  and  genuflect  before 
the  altar,  '  muttering  o'er  his  mystic  spells/  The  lights 
wane  gradually,  and  go  out.  And  then,  advancing  towards 
the  curious  spectator,  the  priest  proffers  on  a  small  brass 
dish  a  few  grains  of  barley  or  rice,  or,  as  I  once  saw,  three 
or  four  pieces  of  candied  sugar,  which  the  envelope  indicated 
had  been  manufactured  in  Paris !    A  person  in  the  East 

.  always  gives  a  present  with  the  view  of  receiving  at  least 
fifty  times  its  value  in  return ;  so  we  present  the  last  of  his 
race  with  a  couple  of  roubles,  and  retire. 


INTERVIEW  WITH  LAZAREFF. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

ACROSS  THB  CASPIAN  TO  TCHmgLAR  AND  CHATTE. 

Interview  with  Lasareff— Voyage  to  Tchikislar — Reception  by  Turcomans-  — 
Their  Costume  and  Dwellings— Fort  of  Tchikislar — Presents  to  Yamad 
chiefs — Akhal  Tekke  prisoners — Journey  to  Chatte — Russian  discipline— 
Rain  pools  and  mirage — Wild  asses  and  antelopes — Fort  of  Chatte— 
Atterek  and  Sumbar  rivers — Banks  of  the  Atterek— Diary  of  Journey — 
Bouynn  Bache— DeliUi  -Bait  Hadji— Yaghli  Olnm— Tekindji— Review 
of  LazarefTs  regiment — Flies  at  Chatte — Tile  pavements — Remnant!  of 
old  civilisation. 

I  called  upon  General  Lazareff  at  Baku,  when  I  learned 
that  he  was  about  to  start  for  the  Eastern  Caspian  shore 
and  the  camp  of  Tchikislar,  the  immediate  base  of  opera- 
tions of  the  expeditionary  columns  destined  for  service 
against  the  Akhal  Tekke  Turcomans.  On  my  asking 
permission  to  go  With  him,  he  very  kindly  said  he  would 
be  glad  of  my  company,  but  that  the  formality,  at  least, 
of  requesting  the  consent  of  H.I.H.  the  Grand  Duke 
commanding  at  Tiflis,  must  be  gone  through.  In  two 
days  the  requisite  permission  arrived,  and  I  was  directed 
to  hand  my  papers  to  Colonel  Malama,  the  chief  of  staff 
of  the  expeditionary  forces.  On  the  afternoon  of  Tuesday, 
April  2,  1879,  with  the  General-in-Chief  and  his  staff  I 
went  on  board  the  Russian  war  steamer  '  Nasr  Eddin 
Shah/  bound  for  the  camp  on  the  south-eastern  shore  of 
the  Caspian.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  old  General's 
kindness  to  me.  I  was  his  guest  on  board,  and  he  took 
every  opportunity  of  distinguishing  me.  On  the  following 
Friday,  April  5,  we  anchored  in  front  of  the  long,  low- 
lying  sandy  shore  off  Tchikislar,  but,  owing  to  the  extreme 


LANDING  AT  TCHIKISLAR.  41 

shallowness  of  the  water,  we  were  obliged,  at  a  distance 
of  two  and  a  half  miles  from  it,  to  land  in  men-of-war's 
boats  at  the  extremity  of  a  rude  pier,  at  that  time  reaching 
but  some  hundred  and  fifty  yards  out  into  the  shallows. 
It  was  originally  a  kind  of  sand-spit,  used  by  the  Turcomans 
when  discharging  the  cargoes  of  their  lodkas.  The 
General  was  received  by  some  score  of  Yamud  elderB,  who, 
drawn  up  at  the  extremity  of  the  pier,  offered  him,  as  he 
landed,  a  cake  of  bread,  a  plate  of  salt,  and  a  large  fish 
newly  caught;  meantime,  the  guns  in  the  small  redoubt 
adjoining  the  camp  thundered  out  their  salute.  The 
Turcomans  of  the  entire  surrounding  neighbourhood  had 
assembled  to  do  honour  to  the  General,  and  were  drawn 
up  on  either  side  of  the  pier  along  which  he  passed  to  the 
shore.  At  its  landward  extremity,  a  number  of  Turcomans 
held  prostrate  on  the  ground  half  a  dozen  black-haired 
sheep,  and,  as  he  passed,  a  knife  was  drawn  across  the 
throat  of  each  animal,  the  blood  streaming,  hot  and 
smoking,  across  his  path,  and  flooding  the  ground  to  Buch 
an  extent  that  our  shoes  were  all  ensanguined  as  we 
walked  in  procession  across  it.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had 
had  a  good  opportunity  of  seeing  genuine  Turcomans.  Each 
wore  the  enormous  sheepskin  shako  affected  by  the  in- 
habitants of  Central  Asia,  and  a  long  tunic  of  some  bright 
colour,  tightly  girt  at  the  waist  by  a  broad  white  sash, 
knotted  in  front,  a  long  dirk  thrust  through  it.  Over  this 
was  an  exterior  garment  of  some  sopibre  tint,  with  long 
sleeves,  which  the  wearers  were  continually  pulling  back- 
wards in  order  to  leave  their  hands  free.  Each,  together 
with  his  poniard,  wore  a  curved,  leather-sheathed  sabre,  with 
cross  guard.  One  might  have  imagined  them  a  battalion 
of  the  Foot  Guards,  robed  for  the  nonce  in  dressing 
gowns.  Some,  also,  wore  the  enormous  pelisse  of 
sheepskin    so    common  among  the  dwellers  in  Central 


42    CAMP  OF  TCHIKISLAR.—LAZAREFFS  SPEECH. 

Asia,  and  which,  doubtless,  has  been  worn  in  those  far-off 
lands  from  time  immemorial.  A  person  of  an  imaginative 
turn  of  mind  might  see  in  these  primitively-clad  Turco- 
mans so  many  resurrected  bodies  of  Cyrus's  or  Zenghis 
Khan's  camp  followers  or  soldiers.  The  camp  was  partly 
composed  of  regular  Russian  military  tents,  and  partly  of 
the  circular,  bee-hive-shaped  Turcoman  dwellings  known 
as  aladjaka,  kibitkas,  or  era.  These  are  some  fifteen  feet 
in  diameter,  and  twelve  feet  high  to  the  centre  of  the 
dome-like  roof,  covered  with  felt  an  inch  in  thickness,  the 
vertical  portion  of  the  walls  being  further  bound  round  with 
a  kind  of  reed  matting.  As  I  shall  afterwards  have  occa- 
sion, in  describing  my  visit  to  Merv,  to  speak  of  these 
circular  dwellings  more  in  detail,  I  shall  now  confine  myself 
to  a  brief  allusion  to  them. 

The  fortifications  of  Tchikislar  were,  in  themselves,  but 
very  trifling.  A  low  parapet  of  sand  and  a  shallow  beach 
surrounded  a  quadrangular  space  about  two  hundred  yards 
square.  In  its  centre  was  the  kibitka  of  the  Commandant ; 
and  not  far  from  this  latter  was  a  tall  signal  station, 
composed  of  a  platform  elevated  on  a  Very  tapering 
pyramid  of  poles  to  a  height  of  sixty  or  seventy  feet.  This 
served  the  double  purpose  of  a  light-house  at  night  and  a 
look-out  station  during  the  day. 

Immediately  on  his  arrival,  General  Lazareff  gave  an 
audience  to  a  number  of  chiefs  of  the  Yamud  Turcomans, 
and  delivered  to  them  a  short  and  characteristic  speech.. 

• 

He  said  that  he  had  come  among  them  as  a  friend,  that  he 
hoped  they  would  offer  no  opposition  to  his  march  through 
their  territory,  and  hinted,  more  or  less  vaguely,  that  the 
true  objective  point  of  the  expedition  lay  far  beyond  their 
bounds.  Among  his  audience  were  fifteen  or  sixteen  Akhal 
Tekk6  prisoners  captured  during  some  recent  skirmish  in 
the  direction  of  the  entrenched  camp  of  Chatte.      The 


EN  ROUTE  FOR  CHATTE.  43 

majority  of  them  were  keen,  intelligent-looking  men,  but 
among  them  were  some  faces  of  as  ruffianly  a  cast  as  it  has 
ever  been  my  lot  to  see.  With  a  view  of  propitiating  their 
companions  of  the  distant  oasis,  the  General  ordered  the 
immediate  release  of  these  prisoners,  and  sent  them  away 
to  their  homes,  giving  to  each  some  trifling  present  in 
money  or  articles  of  European  manufacture.  To  them,  as 
well  as  to  the  Yamud  chiefs  and  elders,  he  gave  silver 
watches,  silver-mounted  handjars,  pieces  of  bright-coloured 
cloth,  and  such  like  articles,  as  he  thought  might  be  pleas- 
ing to  them.  On  the  following  morning,  April  6,  a  little 
before  daybreak,  we  started  for  the  advanced  post  of  Chatte, 
at  the  junction  of  the  Atterek  and  Sumbar  rivers.  The 
General  led  the  way  in  a  carriage  drawn  by  four  horses,  his 
chief  of  staff  following  in  another ;  then  came  half  a  dozen 
troikas,  exactly  similar  to  those  which  I  have  described 
in  relating  my  journey  from  Tiflis  to  Baku,  carrying  various 
members  of  his  household,  as  well  as  the  personal  baggage. 
We  were  escorted  by  some  two  hundred  Cossacks.  Half  a 
sotnia  (fifty)  rode  a  hundred  yards  in  advance  of  the 
General's  carriage,  bearing  the  great  black  and  white 
standard  of  their  regiment ;  while  the  remainder,  at  a  dis- 
tance of  two  or  three  hundred  yards  on  either  flank  of  the 
cortege,  rode  in  single  file.  Other  detachments  of  horse 
had  been  sent  forward  to  scour  the  plain,  and  to  see 
that  the  road  was  clear,  as  well  as  to  put  the  detachments 
of  infantry,  posted  at  various  intermediate  points  along  the 
road,  on  the  alert.  For  upwards  of  four  miles  the  road  was 
an  excessively  disagreeable  one,  for  the  waters  of  the  Caspian, 
under  the  pressure  of  a  wind  from  the  west,  are  often 
forced  over  the  plain  to  the  distance  of  more  than  a  league. 
All  over  the  first  section  of  the  road  were  deep  accumu- 
lations of  sand,  into  which  the  wheels  of  the  vehicles  sank 
deeply,  and  all  the  force  of  traction  of  the  horses  was 


44  EN  ROUTE  F0&  CHATTE.—MIRAGE. 

required  in  order  to  drag  them  slowly  along.  Two  miles 
inland  I  saw  the  bleaching  skin  of  the  Caspian  carp ;  and 
multitudes  of  sea  anemones  lay  around.  Far  inland,  too, 
we  met  with  Turcoman  taimuls,  or  dug-out  canoes,  lying 
about  over  the  plains  in  the  placed  where  they  had  been 
left  stranded  by  the  retiring  waters.  Beyond  this  sandy 
zone  the  road  became  better  and  better  with  every  mile  of 
our  advance,  and  ultimately  we  were  careering  along  at  the 
rate  of  ten  miles  an  hour  over  a  hard,  white  marly  plain,  ad 
level  as  the  best  kept  high  road  in  the  United  Kingdom. 
As  the  day  grew  on,  the  heat  became  intense,  and  there 
continually  stretched  before  us,  to  the  eastward,  one  mag- 
nificent mirage,  which  made  us  imagine  that  we  were  but 
crossing  some  isthmus  between  one  sea  and  another.  Un- 
dulations and  irregularities  of  ground  showed  in  the  midst 
of  the  silvery  expanse  like  so  many  headlands  and  islands, 
and  the  atmospheric  effects  magnified  the  most  trifling 
objects  at  a  distance  to  extraordinary  dimensions,  a  tama- 
risk bush  or  clump  of  camel  thorn  not  more  than  eighteen 
inches  high  often  assuming  to  our  eyes  the  proportions  of  a 
crouching  camel.  Nothing  could  well  be  more  picturesque 
than  our  long  procession  of  carriages  and  troikas,  flanked 
by  galloping  Cossacks  in  their  wild,  semi-Eastern  garb,  ad 
we  dashed  along  over  the  burning  plain  towards  the  appa* 
rently  unreachable  water  expanse  stretching  away  eastward* 
The  plain  was,  for  the  most  part,  dotted  with  scrubby, 
thick-leaved  plants,  belonging  to  the  order  of  Cra*Bulace<&, 
or  Chiratan,  as  the  Turcomans  call  it,  mingled  With 
the  ever  present  camel  thorn  {yandak),  and  a  kind  of 
lichen-like  vegetable  growth.  Now  and  then  we  passed 
wide  areas  of  ground  entirely  destitute  of  the  smallest  trace 
of  vegetation  of  any  kind.  These  were  sometimes  two  or 
three  miles  in  extent,  and  marked  the  Spots  where  the  winter 
rain-falls  had  lodged  in  immense  sheets  of  water  until  oveiS 


KARA/ A  BATUR.— CAMEL  BONES.  45 

powered  by  the  great  mid-day  heats  of  the  spring  and  early 
summer.  At  other  periods  of  the  year  I  have  seen  these 
great  shallow  lakes  undried  by  the  sun ;  but  so  used  had  I 
become  to  the  mirage  that,  when  first  I  espied  the  glitter- 
ing of  the  sea  afar  off,  I  could  scarce  bring  myself  to  believe 
that  it  was  not  the  oft-repeated  atmospheric  delusion  which 
had  so  frequently  beguiled  me  into  a  bootless  ride  of  many 
a  league  in  search  of  the  wished-for  water.  On  this  present 
occasion,  the  spaces  of  ground  upon  which  the  water  had 
lain  during  the  period  at  which  vegetation  usually  spriogp. 
up  with  the  little  vigour  it  ever  possesses  in  these  dusty 
plains,  presented  a  glaring  white  surface,  as  if  the  marl  had 
been  calcined  in  some  mighty  furnace,  the  water  having,  in 
fact,  as  effectually  prevented  germination  as  the  fiercest, 
spn-rays  could  have  done.  At  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
we  reached  the  first  station,  Karaja-Batur,  about  thirty 
milesdistant  from  Tchikislar.  Here  we  found  two  companies 
of  soldiers  entrenched  within  a  small  rectangular  redoubt, 
and  a  water  party  busy  in  excavating  wells  for  the  future 
use  of  the  expeditionary  force.  Close  by  us  was  an  old 
sepulchral  tumulus,  indicating  the  spot  where  a  celebrated 
Turcoman  leader,  killed  in  some  forgotten  combat,  was 
buried.  Within  the  redoubt  were  a  few  aladjaks  for  the 
use  of  the  soldiers,  ordinary  regulation  tents  being  almost 
entirely  useless  as  a  protection  against  the  sun.  After  an 
hour  or  two's  rest  we  again  set  forward,  the  apparently 
interminable  plain  always  presenting  the  same  characteristic 
features.  Camel  and  mule  bones,  bleaching  in  the  sun, 
strewed  every  foot  of  the  way — ghastly  evidences  of  the 
dangers  awaiting  the  traveller  across  these  silent  tracts. 
Save  ourselves,  not  a  living  being  of  any  description  was  in 
sight.  Not  even  a  prowling  Turcoman  was  to  be  seen.  In 
some  places,  where  the  great  rain-pools  were  not  yet  quite 
dried  up,  the  muddy  soil  bore  the  foot-prints  of  immense 


46  TEKINDJL—CHA  TTE. 

numbers  of  antelopes  and  wild  asses,  the  only  creatures, 
excepting  tortoises,  lizards,  and  tarantulas,  seeming  capable 
of  existence  in  this  horrid  desert.  During  all  our  journey 
we  had  not  once  caught  sight  of  the  river  Atterek,  for  we 
were  moving  in  a  direct  line  along  the  cord  of  the  circular 
sweep  described  by  the  river,  which,  besides,  has  excavated 
its  bed  to  such  a  depth  below  the  surface  that  it  is  entirely 
invisible  until  you  arrive  upon  its  very  edge.  Evening  had 
long  closed  in,  and  we  still  continued  our  headlong  course, 
some  of  the  vehicles  going  astray  in  the  darkness,  and  having 
to  be  sought  for  by  Cossack  pickets  lest  they  should  by 
chance  fall  across  parties  of  Turcomans  in  the  dark. 

It  must  have  been  two  hours  after  sunset  as  we  reached 
Tekindji,  the  last  station  before  Chatte.  Here,  again,  were 
a  small  redoubt,  and  some  kibitkas,  on  the  floors  of  which 
we  were  glad  to  sleep  until  morning.  Sunrise  again  saw 
us  on  our  way,  and  we  halted  but  once  in  a  shallow  ravine, 
for  breakfast.  This  ravine,  apparently  the  bed  of  some 
considerable  stream  which  once  swelled  the  volume  of  the 
Atterek,  is  now  destitute  of  a  single  drop  of  water.  Here 
we  were  met  by  some  Cossacks,  sent  forward  from  Chatte, 
who  were  supplemented  by  some  three  hundred  auxiliary 
Yamud  cavalry.  By  mid-day  we  were  in  sight  of  Chatte 
itself,  with  its  signal  and  look-out  station,  precisely  similar 
to  that  at  Tchikislar,  and  surmounted  by  the  Bussian  flag, 
towering  above  the  whity  wilderness  around.  Beyond 
Chatte,  and  across  the  plain  to  the  southward,  we  could 
see  ranges  of  low,  rocky  hills— spurs  thrown  off  by  the 
Persian  mountains.  The  name  Chatte,  which  signifies  in 
Turkish  a  fork,  implies  that  it  is  situated  at  the  junction 
of  the  river  Atterek  with  its  tributary  the  Sumbar,  which 
has  its  rise  in  the  Akhal  Tekk6  mountains.  Chatte  is  one 
of  the  dreariest  places  imaginable.  It  is  a  moderately-sized 
entrenched  camp,  occupying  a  kind  t>f  peninsula,  bounded 


CHATTE.— ATTEREK  AND  SUMBAR.  47 

on  two  of  its  sides  by  the  steep  earth  cliffs  forming  the 
sides  of  the  Sumbar  and  Atterek  respectively,  and  on  the 
third,  or  western  side,  by  a  number  of  ravines  and  spaces 
of  earth,  honeycombed  by  running  streams,  which  effectually 
protect  it  in  that  direction.  In  fact,  it  can  only  be  entered 
by  making  a  long  detour  to  the  northward,  and  then  to  the 
south,  so  as  to  avoid  the  many  pitfalls  around,  and  gain 
the  narrow  causeway  which  leads  to  its  only  available 
entrance.  At  the  time  of  my  visit  the  garrison  consisted 
of  two  battalions.  The  heat  was  intense ;  and  the  ceme- 
tery, not  far  off,  and  ominously  large  for  so  small  a 
garrison,  spoke  in  eloquent  terms  of  the  unhealthy  nature 
of  the  locality.  Fully  eighty  feet  below,  in  the  midst  of 
their  tremendous  ravines,  ran  the  canal-like  streams  of  the 
Atterek  and  Sumbar,  at  this  time  shrunk  to  comparative 
threads  of  water,  all  white  with  suspended  marl,  and  almost 
undrinkable  from  the  quantity  of  saline  matter  held  in 
solution.  This  salty  water,  as  well  as  the  entire  absence 
of  vegetable  food,  seems  to  explain  in  a  sufficiently  satis- 
factory manner  the  disastrous  prevalence  of  scorbutic 
affections  among  the  troops  and  garrison  at  Ghatte. 
Myriads  of  flies  rendered  life  unbearable  by  day,  as  did 
gnats  and  mosquitoes  by  night ;  and  the  intense  heat, 
aggravated  by  the  simoom-like  winds  sweeping  across  the 
burning  plain,  made  Chatte  anything  but  a  desirable 
abiding-place.  'I  would  ten  times  rather  be  sent  to 
Siberia  than  left  here  any  longer,'  I  once  heard  an  officer 
of  infantry  exclaim  to  one  of  his  newly-arrived  comrades. 
Indeed,  were  not  some  other  goal  in  view,  it  would  be  hard 
to  imagine  why  life  and  gold  were  squandered  in  securing 
the  possession  of  such  a  hideous  wilderness. 

As  I  have  stated,  during  our  two  days'  journey  from 
Tchikislar  we  had  not  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  Atterek 
until  the  moment  of  our  arrival  at  Ghatte;  but  as  on 


48  ALONG   THE  ATTEREK. 

another  occasion  I  followed  its  banks  from  near  the  point 
where  it  forms  its  delta  up  to  its  union  with  the  Sumbar, 
and  as  I  do  not  intend  again  to  recur  in  detail  to  this  par- 
ticular portion  of  the  Trans-Caspian  plains,  I  cannot  do 
better  than  here  subjoin  the  diary  which  I  kept  on  the 
occasion  alluded  to,  and  which  will  give  an  accurate  idea  of 
the  course  and  nature  of  this  stream,  about  which  so  much 
has  of  late  been  said  and  written  in  connection  with  the 
Russian  advance  in  Central  Asia  and  the  question  of  the 
Russo-Persian  frontier.  I  was  accompanying  a  battalion 
of  troops,  escorting  a  large  train  of  provision  and  ammuni- 
tion waggons,  which  was  proceeding  to  Chatte,  and  which, 
occupying  seven  days  in  transitu,  were  compelled,  in  order 
to  secure  a  constant  water  supply  for  the  horses,  to  follow 
the  very  edge  of  the  river. 

*  September  80,  1879.  -  I  reached  the  station  of  Bouyun 
Bache  this  evening,  after  thirteen  hours'  march  across  a 
singularly  barren  expanse  of  desert.  The  battalion  es- 
corted a  convoy  of  some  hundred  waggons  laden  with 
stores  for  the  army,  and  was  obliged  to  adapt  its  rate 
of  marching  to  that  of  the  heavy-laden,  badly-horsed 
arabas.  The  soil  of  the  desert  ceases  to  be  sandy  ten 
miles  from  the  Caspian  shore.  It  is  a  heavy  white  loam 
resembling  pipeclay,  and,  owing  to  the  recent  heavy  rains, 
the  wheels  of  the  vehicles  sank  deeply,  an  occasional  wag- 
gon sometimes  sticking  fast  for  twenty  minutes  before  it 
could  be  disengaged.  The  horses'  hoofs  were  laden  with 
great  masses  of  adhesive  mud,  which  in  no  slight  way  im- 
peded the  march.  I  myself  dismounted  for  a  time,  but 
was  shortly  obliged  to  give  up  walking,  the  mud  masses 
attached  to  my  boots  making  me  feel  like  a  convict  with 
cannon-shot  chained  to  my  heels.  Slowly  as  my  horse 
plodded  his  way  through  the  sticky  mire,  he  made  rapid 
progress  in  comparison  to  the  main  body,  and  at  length  I 


LOST  IN  THE  DESERT.  49 

pushed  forward  alone  for  our  halting-place.  In  half-an- 
hour  I  was  far  out  of  sight  of  the  column.  Around,  the  miry 
waste  was  studded  with  hunches  of  wild  sage,  and  a  kind 
of  plant  of  the  botanical  order  crassidacea  (in  Turcoman 
chiratan),  which  even  my  Turcoman  horse  refused  to  crop. 
My  sole  companion  was  an  Armenian  servant;  but  he 
having,  when  leaving  Tchikislar,  indulged  in  too  much 
vodka  with  his  compatriots,  took  fright  at  the  sight  of  half- 
a-dozen  tall  bushes  which  he  supposed  to  be  so  many  fierce 
Tekke  horsemen,  and  I  found  myself  alone  in  the  desert. 
My  only  guide  was  the  telegraph  line  to  Asterabad,  but 
there  was  a  certain  point  at  which  I  should  diverge  to  the 
left.  This  point  I  could  not  distinguish,  and  so  naturally  I 
went  astray.  Night  falls  rapidly  in  the  desert,  and  it  was 
with  no  pleasant  feelings  that  I  vainly  stretched  my  glance 
through  the  gathering  gloom  for  some  glimpse  of  a  camp 
fire  to  indicate  the  station  of  Bouyun  Bache.  At  night, 
especially  when  it  is  a  starless  one,  to  hesitate  for  a 
moment,  to  let  your  path  deviate  but  a  degree  from  the 
true  course,  is  to  lose  the  road  hopelessly.  Such  was  my 
case,  and,  recognising  the  situation,  I  made  up  my  mind  to 
wait  for  dawn  where  I  was.  I  dismounted  and  lay  down  in 
the  damp  loam,  trying  to  compose  myself  to  sleep.  An 
hour  passed,  and  a  faint  bugle  note  came  across  the  night 
air.  I  rose  immediately  and  followed  the  sound.  Then  I 
heard  voices  singing,  and  so  I  stumbled  into  Bouyun 
Bache.  The  column  had  not  arrived,  and  no  one  knew 
when  it  was  likely  to  do  so.  It  ultimately  arrived  towards 
midnight. 

'  The  station  of  Bouyun  Bache  is  situated  on  a  gentle 
slope  beside  a  marshy  lake,  surrounded  by  tall  cane 
brakes,  the  haunt  of  wild  fowl  and  wild  boars.  The  lake 
may  possibly  be  the  summer  remnant  of  the  Atterek 
winter  inundations,  and  never  thoroughly  dries  up,  for  I 

vol.  i.  s 


50  RUSSIAN  DISCIPLINE. 

have  seen  fish  and  small  turtles  hooked  by  the  soldiers  on 
its  banks.  During  the  summer  heats  the  district  is  ex- 
tremely feverish.  A  company  of  infantry  is  permanently 
camped  here ;  no  cavalry  save  the  daily  Cossack  patrols. 
The  principal  use  of  the  post  seems  to  be  the  holding  in 
check  of  the  Persian  Turcomans  at  present  occupying  the 
winter  pastures  of  the  Atterek  delta,  and  who  have  of  late 
engaged  in  hostile  descents  on  small  Bussian  convoys  going 
to  Ghatte. 

'October  1.— We  left  Bouyun  Bache  an  hour  before 
daybreak  this  morning,  en  route  for  our  next  halting- 
place  at  Delilli.  I  had  spent  but  a  wretched  night,  trying 
to  shelter  from  the  heavy  rain  under  a  waggon.  Hot  as  the 
days  still  are,  the  nights  are  wretched,  and  one  welcomes 
the  scalding  hot  weak  tea  which  is  invariably  forthcoming 
at  every  halt  if  there  be  any  possibility  of  lighting  a  fire. 
At  the  moment  of  starting  I  witnessed  an  example  of  the 
rather  rude  system  of  discipline  occasionally  enforced  in  the 
Bussian  service.  The  advanced  guard,  consisting  of  two 
companies,  had  fallen  in,  and  were  about  to  be  sent  off  in 
advance  of  the  first  detachment  of  waggons.  The  major 
commanding  the  battalion  noticed  some  awkwardness  and 
confusion  as  the  men  took  their  places,  and  by  way  of  see- 
ing who  was  in  fault,  immediately  ordered  them  to  go 
through  their  facings.  An  unfortunate  sergeant  appeared 
not  to  be  well  up  in  his  business,  and  bungled  at  every  step, 
going  exactly  where  he  ought  not  to  go  at  a  given  moment. 
I  saw  wrath  gathering  in  the  major's  eye,  and  in  another 
instant  he  dismounted  from  his  horse,  took  off  his  overcoat 
with  the  greatest  deliberation,  handed  it  to  his  orderly,  and 
then,  providing  himself  with  an  exceedingly  heavy  horse- 
whip, beckoned  to  the  unlucky  sergeant  to  come  towards 
him.  The  man,  like  his  comrades,  was,  notwithstanding 
the  rawness  of  the  early  dawn,  dressed  only  in  a  light  linen 


DEULLI.  51 

tonic.  When  he  stood  to  attention  before  the  major,  the 
latter  proceeded  to  belabour  him  with  all  his  might ;  and  so 
rigid  is  the  discipline  of  the  Bussian  army,  that  the  man 
dared  not  even  ran  away  or  attempt  to  defend  himself  from 
the  tremendous  plaited  leather  thongs  that  went  twisting 
around  his  all  but  naked  shoulders.  The  beating,  which  ( 
lasted  half  a  minute,  terminated,  the  major  restored  the 
whip  to  its  owner,  put  on  his  overcoat,  and  again  mounted 
his  horse,  not  a  single  remark  having  passed  the  lips  of 
anybody. 

*  The  sergeant  took  his  place  again  in  the  ranks  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  Our  march  to-day  has  been  a 
slow,  dragging  one.  As  usual  after  the  first  couple  of  hours' 
inarch,  lingering  along  with  the  heavy-laden  waggons,  we 
were  obliged  to  halt  during  half-an-hour  to  let  the  horses 
rest  a  little.  At  mid-day  we  had  another  halt,  this  time  of 
over  two  hours,  to  cook  dinner.  It  was  close  on  sunset  ere 
we  reached  Delilli,  our  halting-place  for  the  night.  There 
is  no  dwellipg-place  or  camp  of  any  kind.  A  wide  marsh, 
partly  covered  with  immense  reed  growths,  reaches  away  to 
the  Atterek,  part  of  whose  flooded  delta  it  constitutes — like 
our  last  evening's  halting-place,  very  unhealthy,  the  air 
reeking  with  the  smell  of  decaying  organic  matter.  Bent, 
the  point  at  which  the  Turcomans  dammed  up  the  river  to 
turn  it  further  south,  is  some  versts  further  on. 

*  October  2. — A  little  after  leaving  our  last  station 
we  commenced  crossing  an  undulating  country  seamed  with 
immense  rugged  gashes,  torn  in  the  earth  by  winter  rains. 
Four  Turcoman  guides  rode  some  hundreds  of  yards  ahead, 
carefully  picking  out  practicable  ground  for  the  immense 
waggon  train,  which,  when  possible,  advanced  in  three 
columns,  and  so  avoided  straggling,  but  sometimes  was 
obliged  to  pass  certain  spots  in  single  file.  In  this  latter 
case  the  rearguard  remained  till  all  had  passed,  lest  a 

■  2 


59  GUDRI. 

sadden  swoop  of  the  enemy  might  be  made.  I  remarked 
great  numbers  of  sepulchral  tumuli  scattered  over  the  plain, 
some  very  large,  other  smaller  ones  grouped  in  their 
vicinity ;  some  evidently  very  ancient,  others  marking  the 
resting-places  of  Russian  and  Turcoman  soldiers  dead  only 
a  few  months  or  even  days  before.  About  the  middle  of 
our  day's  march  we  began  to  remark  palpable  signs  of  the 
presence  of  the  Atterek  itself,  streaks  of  verdure  and  un- 
usually tall  bushes  making  their  appearance  far  off  on  the 
righthand  side.  About  four  in  the  afternoon,  turning  by  a 
sweeping  path  to  the  right,  we  arrived  on  the  banks  of  the 
river.  We  camped  in  a  wide  level  piece  of  ground,  which 
gave  evidence  of  being,  under  favourable  circumstances, 
more  or  less  of  a  pasturage.  It  was  now,  however,  cropped 
quite  bare  by  the  great  trains  of  cattle  and  horses  which 
were  continually  passing.  Above  us,  on  two  gently  swelling 
hills,  in  an  angle  of  the  river,  were  camped  two  squadrons 
of  Cossacks ;  for  this  point,  at  which  the  convoys  pass,  is  quite 
close  to  the  winter  pasturages  of  the  Turcomans  on  the 
Persian  bank.  It  is  at  this  station,  named  Gudri,  that  the 
banks  of  the  Atterek  suddenly  assume  that  precipitous 
canon-like  form  which  they  preserve  up  to  and  beyond 
Chatte.  Immediately  below  Gudri  they  vary  in  height 
from  three  to  seven  feet;  above  it  they  suddenly  rise  to 
fifty  or  seventy  feet.  At  the  lower  level,  and  on  the  south- 
ern bank,  the  ground  partly  enclosed  by  the  numerous  and 
very  tortuous  sinuosities  of  the  river  is  densely  overgrown 
with  brushwood  and  tamarisk,  the  latter  sometimes  attain- 
ing the  height  of  eight  or  ten  feet.  The  antelope,  wild  boar, 
and  colon,  or  wild  ass,  frequent  the  locality  in  great 
numbers.  I  saw  some  scores  of  large  black  hawks  wheeling 
high  in  air.  I  believe  they  subsist  on  the  mice  which 
abound,  and  on  stranded  fish.  The  most  objectionable 
frequenters    of  the    place    are  scorpions    and    enormous 


BAIT  HADJI.  53 

tarantula  spiders.  The  latter,  known  here  as  the  falang,  or 
perhaps  phalange,  is  as  large  as  an  ordinary  mouse,  of  a 
chocolate  coltfur,  marked  with  black  stripes  and  patches. 
One  is  obliged  to  look  carefully  into  one's  coat  sleeves,  boots, 
&c.,  before  dressing,  lest  some  of  these  ugly  and  really 
dangerous  creatures  have  found  lodging  there.  They  fre- 
quent the  tents  and  kibitkas,  where  the  flies  gather  largely, 
and  seem  to  be  most  active  at  night,  especially  when  a  camp 
fire  or  candle  has  been  lit. 

*  October  8. — Beached  Bait  Hadji  at  sunset,  after  a 
fatiguing  but  very  instructive  march,  during  which  the 
desert  presented  a  completely  new  appearance,  and  indicated 
the  vast  difficulties  of  transport  in  autumn  and  winter,  as 
well  as  in  summer.  We  got  into  movement  at  about  half- 
past  four  o'clock,  the  morning  being  very  dark.  The 
ground,  too,  was  in  many  places  so  heavy  that  considerable 
deviations  from  the  usual  track  had  to  be  made.  At  first  the 
desert  presented  the  usual  appearance — a  white  earth  ex- 
panse dotted  with  bunches  of  scrub.  Not  a  single  blade  of 
grass  of  any  kind.  Towards  seven  in  the  morning  there 
were  a  couple  of  light  showers ;  and  the  soldiers,  who  wore 
their  white  linen  blouses  and  blue  calico  summer  marching 
trousers,  were  obliged  to  run  hastily  to  the  waggons  for 
their  grey  greatcoats.  At  length  rain  set  in  steadily,  and 
it  was  with  difficulty  the  troops  could  drag  their  mire-laden 
feet  along.  In  expectation  of  hot  dry  weather  they  had 
doffed  their  heavy  long  boots,  and  wore  instead  linen  rags 
tied  round  the  foot  and  leg  in  the  Italian  peasant  fashion, 
a  leather  sole  or  tight  shoe  being  added.  In  fine  weather 
this  system  is  well  adapted  to  marching.  Now,  however, 
the  rags  became  saturated  with  muddy  water,  and  from 
the  enormous  quantity  of  adhesive  earth  sticking  to  hifi 
feet  each  soldier  had  the  air  of  a  North  American  Indian 
wearing  snow-shoes.    They  laid  their  saturated  greatcoats 


54  DIFFICULT  MARCHING. 

aside,  preferring  walking  mid  the  downpour  in  their  light 
linen  blouses  to  carrying  unnecessary  and  useless  weight. 
The  arabas  and  great  four-wheeled  fourgons,  some  drawn 
by  four  horses  all  abreast,  were  usually  one-third  the  wheel's 
diameter  buried  in  the  soil  through  which  they  slowly  crept, 
usually  halting  every  ten  minutes.  The  rain  kept  on 
steadily,  and  by  ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  was  an  expanse  of  water,  broken  here  and 
there  by  slightly  raised  undulations  of  ground  and  tufts  of 
brush.  I  had  gone  over  this  ground  in  the  early  summer, 
and,  crossing  the  then  scorched  and  burning  waste,  could 
never  have  imagined  such  a  spectacle  as  the  desert  under 
water.  Close  as  we  were  to  the  river,  there  seemed  to  be 
absolutely  no  surface  drainage,  the  water  lying  motionless 
around.  By  mid-day  the  soldiers  were  mid-leg  deep  in 
water ;  and  the  waggons,  often  down  to  the  axle,  had  to 
be  forcibly  spoked  forward  by  the  men.  The  camels 
alone  seemed  to  get  on  at  nearly  their  usual  pace,  though 
they  splashed  and  slid  about  a  great  deal  with  their  great 
splay  feet,  and  groaned  and  grumbled  even  more  than 
ordinarily. 

'  When  the  time  for  the  two  hours'  halt  arrived  it  was 
impossible  to  make  soup  or  tea,  for  the  usual  fuel — the 
generally  scorched-up  sage  brush — was  saturated  with 
water,  and  no  dry  spot  could  be  found  for  a  fire  even  if  fuel 
were  forthcoming.  To  start  again  seemed  impossible ;  but, 
as  a  night's  halt  in  such  a  place  was  out  of  the  question, 
and  would  hardly  better  matters  in  the  morning,  we 
again  set  out,  the  front  and  rear  guard  men  picking 
their  way  across  the  slime  like  so  many  flies  over  a  treacly 
surface,  and  the  waggons,  urged  slowly  forward  by  the 
combined  efforts  of  men  and  horses,  resembling  a  fleet 
of  barges  crossing  a  marshy  lake.  During  all  this  misery 
the  troops  were  most  cheerful,  singing  and  laughing  as  they 


YAGHU  OLUM.  55 

waded  along  or  spoked  the  waggons  through  the  mud.  I 
know  it  is  a  generally  received  opinion  at  home  and  else- 
where that  Bussian  soldiers  are  kept  up  to  their  work  by 
the  distribution  of  unlimited  rations  of  vodka.  On  the 
occasion  to  which  I  allude  they  certainly  had  no  stimulants 
given  them,  nor  have  I  ever  witnessed  the  distribution  of 
any  to  the  soldiers.  Yet,  neither  during  that  day's  wet 
march,  nor  afterwards,  was  there  a  single  case  of  illness 
arising  from  those  twelve  hours'  continuous  hardships. 
Towards  sunset  we  neared  the  flank  of  a  long  escar-like 
sand  ridge,  where  some  drainage  existed,  and  the  ground, 
though  cut  up  by  deep  channels,  was  still,  on  the  whole, 
much  firmer.  Our  night's  camping-ground,  Bait  Hadji,  is 
on  the  slope  of  a  high  earth-swell  overhanging  the  Atterek 
bed.  The  place  was  entirely  without  garrison,  and  we 
found  there  only  some  two  dozen  waggons  halted  during 
the  return  journey  to  Tchikislar.  On  the  top  of  the  earth 
slope  is  an  ancient  twrbe,  or  saint's  tomb,  partly  earth  and 
partly  stone,  where  the  individual  from  whom  the  name  of 
the  locality  is  taken  is  interred.  Around  are  many  large 
tumuli.  The  river  bed,  or  rather  the  immense  ravine 
through  the  midst  of  which  the  deep,  narrow,  canal-like 
water  channel  winds,  is  here  nearly  half  a  mile  wide  and 
seventy  to  ninety  feet  deep,  the  vertical  flanks  being  torn 
into  a  thousand  rugged  and  fanciful  pinnacles. 

1  October  4. — Taghli  Olum,  the  fifth  station  from  Tchi- 
kislar, is  directly  on  the  river's  edge.  It  was  formerly 
occupied  by  two  companies  of  infantry — now  it  is  deserted, 
an  old  redoubt  alone  marking  the  camp.  To-day,  unlike 
the  preceding  one,  was  extremely  hot  and  dry,  and  the 
greater  portion  of  the  journey  was  on  dry  firm  ground. 
Great  quantities  of  bones  and  offal  of  all  kinds  lay  about, 
on  which  over  one  hundred  vultures  and  other  large  birds 
were  preying.     The  river  scenery  here  is  imposing,  but 


56  N EARING  CHATTE. 

the  water  is  exceedingly  bad,  quite  as  white  as  milk  with 
suspended  marl.  In  fact,  one  would  think  that  the  tea  or 
coffee  made  with  it  were  mixed  with  milk.  At  this  season, 
too,  the  water  is  more  strongly  impregnated  with  saline 
matter  than  earlier  in  the  season,  and  is  very  unwhole- 
some. The  desert  on  both  sides  of  the  river  is  bare  and 
arid,  without  a  shred  of  vegetation.  The  first  Persian  hills 
lie  southward,  about  six  or  seven  miles  off.  Up  to  their 
slopes  everything  is  utterly  barren. 

'  October  5. — Another  very  hot  day's  march  without 
incident  to  Tekindji,  the  last  station  before  Ghatte.  The 
river  banks  steeper  than  ever.  Wild  pigeons  in  abun- 
dance. At  night  troops  of  jackals  come  shrieking  into  the 
very  midst  of  our  camp.  In  view  of  the  absence  of  troops 
along  the  line,  and  of  the  bulk  of  the  army  beyond  Chatte, 
a  sudden  attack  by  cavalry  from  the  northward  being 
possible,  great  military  precautions  were  taken,  a  com- 
pany of  skirmishers  moving  far  out  to  observe  the 
approaches. 

*  October  6. — Being  within  twenty  versts  of  Chatte  I 
rode  on  quickly  before  the  convoy,  and  arrived  at  my  desti- 
nation at  about  eleven  o'clock.  Between  Tekindji  and 
Chatte  is  a  large  deep  ravine,  crossing  the  road  at  right 
angles,  and  which  must  be  very  difficult  of  passage  in  wet 
weather.  Close  to  Chatte  I  met  troops  of  hundreds  of 
camels,  led  by  Tamud  Turcomans,  slowly  making  their 
way  to  Tchikislar,  for  provisions  and  general  stores.' 

Such  are  the  notes  I  jotted  down  along  the  way  just  as 
I  wrote  them.  It  will  be  seen  that  at  times  the  desert 
becomes  impassable  at  certain  places,  for  other  reasons 
than  want  of  water.  The  route  which  I  have  described, 
and  which  during  the  dry  season  is  the  only  one  practi 
cable  between  Tchikislar  and  Chatte  for  wheeled  vehicles, 
horses,  and  troops,  becomes  entirely  closed  during  three 


BED  OF  ATTEREK.  57 

or  four  months  of  the  year,  (November,  December,  Janu- 
ary, and  February),  owing  to  the  flooding  and  softening  of 
the  ground. 

What  I  have  seen  of  the  Atterek  at  different  seasons 
leads  me  to  believe  that  even  as  far  as  Chatte  it  is  entirely 
useless  as  a  means  of  water  transit.  In  autumn  it  is 
shrunk  to  a  miserable,  muddy  ditch,  at  some  places  not  over 
eight  feet  wide,  and  almost  everywhere  fordable  to  horses. 
That  it  occasionally  assumes  more  respectable  dimensions 
is  evident  from  the  various  water-level  marks  on  its  banks. 
It  must  sometimes  have  a  depth  of  over  twenty  feet,  and 
an  average  width  of  thirty,  without  overflowing  its  regular 
channel,  which  is  cut  as  even  as  that  of  any  canal,  winding 
in  the  centre  of  a  vast  ravine,  with  vertical  sides.  At 
places  this  ravine  has  a  breadth  of  three  quarters  of  a 
mile. 

On  neither  the  north  nor  south  shores  is  the  Atterek 
available  for  irrigation  purposes,  the  great  depth  to 
which  it  has  cut  its  bed  precluding  such  a  possibility. 
Hence  the  entire  barrenness  of  the  desert  on  either  side, 
reaching  from  the  commencement  of  its  delta  to  over  a 
hundred  miles  above  Chatte.  The  extreme  percentage  of 
sediment  makes  its  water  unfit  for  human  consumption 
without  filtering  or  deposition;  and  for  the  supply  of 
camels  and  horses  it  has  to  be  fetched  with  great  labour  by 
zigzag  steep  paths  cut  in  the  huge  earth  cliffs  of  the  ravine 
from  the  centre  channel  to  the  plain  above.  As  a  frontier 
line  the  Atterek  has  the  advantage  of  being,  except  at  its 
delta,  exceedingly  well  defined  and  unmistakable.  Were 
its  depth  at  all  seasons  so  great  as  to  render  it  unfordable, 
that,  taken  in  connection  with  the  depth  and  steepness  of 
its  ravine,  would  render  it  as  well  a  formidable  barrier  to 
the  incursions  of  hostile  nomads.  As  it  is,  its  use  from  a 
military  point  of  view,  and  that  of  its  confluent  the  Sum* 


58  LAZAREFFS  OLD  REGIMENT. 

bar,  is  amply  that  of  a  water  supply  of  the  main  line  of 
communication  between  Tchikialar  and  Chatte. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  of  our  arrival  at  Chatte,  the 
irrepressible  old  General,  notwithstanding  the  fatigues  of 
the  journey,  was  on  his  legs  again,  reviewing  the  old  regi- 
ment to  which  he  had  formerly  belonged,  and  in  which  he 
had  once  served  in  the  capacity  of  sergeant — the  Shir- 
vanskL  When  the  requisite  manoeuvres  had  been  gone 
through,  he  called  forward  the  10th  Company,  that  in 
which  he  had  once  served  in  a  humbler  grade  of  military 
life*  He  recalled  to  them  the  glorious  feats  performed  by 
the  regiment  in  the  Caucasus  during  the  old  Circassian 
war,  reminded  them  of  his  having  been  a  non-commissioned 
officer  in  their  ranks,  pointed  to  the  crosses  upon  his  breast, 
and  told  the  soldiers  that  by  gallantly  doing  their  duty 
each  one  might  aspire  to  the  position  which  he  himself  had 
gained.  Tremendous'  cheers  followed  this  harangue,  and, 
as  an  inevitable  result,  the  contents  of  a  cask  of  vodka 
were  distributed  to  the  men,  in  which  to  drink  to  the  health 
of  the  Commander-in-Chief. 

After  two  days'  experience  at  Chatte,  I  felt  quite  of  the 
same  mind  as  the  officer  who  had  said  that  he  would  rather 
be  sent  to  Siberia  than  remain  there  any  longer,  for  be- 
tween heat  and  flies  by  day,  and  mosquitoes  by  night,  I 
never  passed  such  a  miserable  time  in  all  my  existence. 
There  was  a  curious  feature  about  the  officers'  aladjaks  at 
Chatte.  They  were  paved  with  large  square  tiles,  a  foot 
broad,  which  had  been  brought  some  thirty  miles,  from  a 
place  called  Dusolum,  situated  higher  up  the  Sumbar  river, 
the  site  of  a  former  town,  but  now  desolate  and  bare  as 
any  spot  which  I  have  described.  In  view  of  the  domed 
edifices  and  extensive  foundations,  spreading  far  and  wide, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  a  populous  community  once 
flourished  there.    Now,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  river 


CAUSE  OF  BARRENNESS.  59 

has  cut  its  bed  low  down  in  the  marly  soil,  and  that  irri- 
gation is  impossible,  civilisation  has  perished  from  the 
spot*  Very  possibly,  too,  Zenghis  Khan  and  his  hordes 
had  something  to  do  with  laying  waste  what  are  now 
trackless  solitudes. 


A   TALK  WITH 


CHAPTER  IV. 

KBASNAV0D8K. 

Lasareff*s  opinion  about  Tchikislar — Difficulties  of  traversing  desert — Chasing 
wild  asses  and  antelopes — '  Drumhead '  dinner — A  Khivan  dandy — Desert 
not  a  sandy  one — On  board  '  Nasr  Eddin  Shah '  corvette — En  route  for 
Erasnavodsk — Gastronomic  halt — Zakouska—  Russian  meal — Arrival  at 
Erasnavodsk — Description  of  place — Distillation  of  sea-water — Club — 
Caspian  flotilla — Lieutenant  Sideroff—  An  ex-pirate — Trans-Caspian  cable 
— Avowed  object  of  Akhai  Tekke  expedition — Colonel  Malama's  explana- 
tion— A  Trans-Caspian  ball — Khirgese  chiefs — Caucasian  horsemen-  - 
Military  sports — Lesghian  dancing. 

I  will  not  trouble  my  readers  with  the  details  of  the  return 
journey  from  Chatte  to  Tchikislar,  which  was  almost 
precisely  similar  to  the  first  journey.  General  Lazareff 
had  satisfied  himself  as  to  the  state  of  his  advanced  posts, 
and  had  made  a  reconnaissance  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
ground.  This  done,  he  resolved  to  return  to  the  western 
Caspian  shore,  and,  provided  with  the  information  which 
he  had  gathered,  take  the  necessary  steps  to  meet  all 
exigencies  before  finally  committing  himself  to  a  forward 
movement  into  the  heart  of  the  enemy's  territory.  We 
stayed  but  a  few  hours  in  the  camp  at  Tchikislar,  during 
which  time  I  had  much  conversation  with  the  old  general. 
We  spoke  at  length  about  the  eastern  Caspian  sea-ports, 
and  canvassed  the  relative  importance  of  Tchikislar  and 
Erasnavodsk ;  the  latter  being  the  earliest  Russian  settle- 
ment on  that  side  of  the  sea.  He  seemed  altogether  in 
favour  of  Tchikislar,  notwithstanding  its  execrable 
anchorage.    In  his  view  the  banks  of  the  Atterek  afforded 


BACK  TO  TCHIKISLAR.  61 

the  only  available  route  to  Southern  Central  Asia.  *  Tchi- 
kislar,' he  said  to  me, '  will  one  day  play  a  great  part  in 
the  destinies  of  Central  Asia.'  At  this  period,  the  cable 
from  Baku  to  Erasnavodskhad  already  been  contracted  for, 
but  there  was  a  question  as  to  whether  it  should  not  be 
lengthened,  and  one  station  be  at  Tchikislar.  From  the 
moment  that  the  *  Nasr  Eddin  Shah '  anchored  three  miles 
off  the  coast;  and  I  became  aware  of  the  nature  of  the 
anchorage,  I  had  made  up  my  mind  that  Tchikislar  never 
could  be  an  emporium  between  the  Trans-Caspian  and  the 
opposite  shore.  I  hinted  at  this  to  the  General,  but  he 
smiled  and  nodded  his  head  as  if  to  imply  that  he  entirely 
understood  the  situation,  and  I  conceived  that  engineering 
works  of  great  magnitude  would  probably  be  undertaken  to 
render  the  place  available  for  serious  embarkation  and  dis- 
embarkation. It  would  have  needed  much  to  do  this,  and 
time  has  shown  that  my  appreciations  of  the  moment  were 
correct.  Tchikislar  has  been  abandoned  for  Krasnavodsk, 
the  military  Bussian  settlement  near  which  the  Trans- 
Caspian  railroad  has  its  western  terminal. 

I  was  not  sorry  to  find  myself  at  the  sea-shore  again, 
for  the  backward  journey  had,  if  possible,  been  more  dis- 
agreeable than  the  forward  one.  In  the  middle  of  one  of 
the  stages,  the  horses  of  the  General's  carriage,  broken 
down  by  the  rapid  pace  at  which  we  were  proceeding,  had 
foundered,  and  we  had  to  leave  them  behind  us,  gasping  on 
the  dusty  plain.  To  replace  them,  Cossacks  of  the  escort 
were  ordered  up.  Each  horseman,  taking  one  of  the  ropes 
which  served  as  traces,  placed  it  under  his  left  thigh,  held 
the  extremity  in  his  hand,  and  then  galloped  forward  with 
the  surviving  horses  of  the  team.  Even  though  the  men 
were  frequently  relieved,  we  got  on  but  slowly,  and  our 
journey  back  had  been  far  more  tedious  than  the  one  to  the 
front.    Utterly  tired  out  with  sitting  in  a  troika,  I  ex- 


68       DRUM-HEAD  SUPPER—A  KHIVAN  DANDY. 

changed  places  with  a  Cossack,  who,  doubtless,  was  glad 
to  get  into  the  vehicle,  and  who,  with  his  officer's  permission, 
gave  me  his  horse.  The  advanced  guard,  now  that  all 
danger  was  over  for  the  moment,  amused  themselves  with 
chasing  the  wild  adses  and  antelopes  which  constantly  came 
in  sight  as  we  topped  some  undulation  of  the  ground,  the 
horses  seeming  to  enter  into  the  sport  quite  as  thoroughly 
as  their  riders,  though  we  never  had  a  chance  of  coming 
within  shot.  One  of  my  last  reminiscences  of  this  journey 
was  having  supper  with  General  Lazareff  and  his  second  in 
command,  General  Lomakin.  We  sat  upon  the  edges  of 
three  drums,  and  bayonets  stuck  point  downwards  in  the 
ground  served  us  as  candlesticks.  In  our  company  was  the 
Caravan  Bashi,  a  Ehivan,  whose  dress  merits  description. 
He  wore  a  silk  tunic,  of  the  brightest  possible  emerald  green, 
with  lavish  gold  embroidery;  sky-blue  trousers,  of  semi- 
European  make;  a  purple  mantle  profusely  laced;  and, 
contrary  to  all  Mussulman  precedent,  his  fingers  were 
covered  with  massive  rings  of  gold.  A  gold-embroidered 
skull-cap  was  stuck  upon  the  back  of  his  head,  and,  perched 
forward,  the  brim  almost  upon  the  bridge  of  his  nose,  was 
a  cylindrical  cap  of  black  Astrakan,  which  allowed  almost 
the  whole  of  the  elaborately  decorated  skull-cap  to  be  seen 
behind. 

As  I  have  mentioned,  the  plain,  or  rather  flat  valley  of 
the  Atterek,  is  exceedingly  dreary  and  desolate,  but  it  must 
not  be  understood  as  being  in  any  sense  of  the  word  a 
desert,  as  we  speak  of  the  sand-strewn  wastes  of  Arabia 
Petrea.  The  ground  is  excellent,  and,  if  it  be  to-day  in 
the  condition  I  have  depicted,  it  is  only  because  water  is 
not  available.  I  have  no  doubt  that  if  some  enterprising 
engineer,  under  happier  auspices  than  those  existing  at  the 
time  I  visited  the  ground,  were  to  construct  dams  upon  the 
Atterek  and  Sumbar  rivers  higher  up,  near  their  sources, 


NAVAL  ILLUMINATION— ZAKOUSKA.  63 

bo  as  to  bring  the  waters  once  more  back  to  the  Trans- 
Caspian  steppes,  we  might  again  see  the  fertility  and 
prosperity  amidst  which  were  reared  the  walls  and  domes 
which  now  stand  ghastlily  amid  the  waste. 

We  arrived  in  Tchikislar  about  six  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  and  I  hoped  to  obtain  a  good  night's  rest,  so  far 
as  such  was  consistent  with  the  presence  of  great  red-bodied, 
long-legged  mosquitoes,  but  to  my  dismay  an  aide-de-camp 
announced  to  me  that  I  must  be  ready  to  go  on  board  the 
1  Nasr  Eddin  Shah/  the  steamer  which  brought  us  over,  at 
nine  o'clock  the  same  evening.  We  were  to  proceed,  he 
told  me,  to  Krasnavodsk.  Far  out  to  sea  the  yards  of 
the  ships  were  gleaming  with  lamps,  for  the  naval  officers 
had  got  up  an  illumination  in  honour  of  the  commander-in- 
chief.  The  man-o'-war's  boats  took  us  half  a  mile  out 
from  shore,  where  we  were  met  by  a  small  tender,  a  kind 
of  tug-boat,  which  conveyed  us  on  board  the  war  steamer. 
At  ten  in  the  evening,  when  Lazareff  and  Lomakin,  with 
their  respective  staffs,  had  come  on  board,  we  got  under 
weigh.  At  half-past  eleven  we  came  to  a  sudden  halt,  for 
which  I  was  at  a  loss  to  account,  as  we  were  going  steadily. 
I  soon  discovered  that  we  had  run  in  as  close  to  land  as  was 
prudent,  and  let  go  the  anchor  in  order  that  Lazareff  and 
his  staff  might  take  supper  undisturbed  by  the  qualms  of 
sea  sickness.  We  mustered  pretty  strongly  at  table.  The 
General,  who  was  especially  sensitive  to  this  plague  of 
landsmen,  was  too  sick  to  take  his  place  with  us. 

There  is  one  peculiarity  about  a  Kussian  meal  of  which 
I  may  speak  here.  Immediately  before  seating  themselves 
the  guests  proceed  in  groups  to  a  sideboard,  where  what  is 
called  a  zakouska  is  laid  out.  Caviare,  cheese,  pickles, 
butter,  and  a  multitude  of  things  the  names  of  which  I 
do  not  know,  are  placed  around  in  saucers.  In  their  midst 
stand  two  bottles,  one  of  vodka,  another  of  balsam.     Vodka 


/ 


/ 


64  RECEPTION  AT  KRASNAVODSK. 

is  a  kind  of  rude  whisky,  colourless  as  water.    Balsam  is  an 

alcoholic  solution  of  various  aromatic  herbs,  and  of  intensely 

fiery  quality.    Each  person  fills  out  for  himself  a  glass  of 

vodka,  flavours  it  with  a  few  drops  of  balsam,  and,  having 

swallowed  the  mixture,  proceeds  to  help  himself  to  the 

various  viands  around,  to  such  an  extent  that  one  would 

think  an  after  meal  entirely  superfluous.    Then  one  sits 

down  to  a  more  than  solid  meal.     There  is  sturgeon  soup, 

thickened  with  borje,  a  mixture  which  can  best  be  described 

by  stating  that  it  is  like  stiff  porridge  made  from  blackish 

brown  oatmeal ;  a  spoonful  of  it  is  mixed  up  with  one's  soup. 

Then  there  are  cutlets,  which,  at  least  on  board  a  Caspian 

steamer,  mean  minced  meat,  massed  round  a  bone,  and 

made  to  do  duty  for  mutton  chops.    A  Eussian  dinner  is  a 

long  affair,  so  that  I  will  not  enter  into  further  gastronomic 

details.    Kakatinski  wine  flows  freely,   and  everyone  is 

generally  in  good  humour  before  he  retires  to  rest.    It  was 

eight  in  the  morning  when,  after  having  rounded  the  island 

of  Tcheliken,  we  cast  anchor  in  the  bay  of  Krasnavodsk, 

than  which  no  better  could  be  found  in  the  world.     It  is 

sheltered  on  all  sides  by  rising  ground,  and  has  a  depth  of 

water  which  allows  heavily  laden  ships  of  deep  draught  to 

anchor  close  in  shore.    It  affords  every  protection  against 

the  treacherous  westerly  winds  which  so  often  sweep  across 

the  Caspian.    Nearly  the  whole  of  the  Caspian  flotilla  waa 

at  anchor,  every  ship  gaily  dressed  with  flags.     The  shore 

batteries  fired  a  salute,  and  all  the  naval  commanders,  en 

grande  tenue,  came  on  board  to  pay  their  respects  to  the 

general.    Among  them  was  a  Captain  Schultz,  who  spoke 

English  with  that  marvellous  correctness  of  grammar  and 

accent  to  be  found,  apart  from  the  inhabitants  of  these 

islands,  among  Eussians  alone. 

Krasnavodsk  is  literally  a  town  '  made  to  order.'    Every- 
thing is  in  the  exact  place  that  it  should  be  in,  from  the 


KRASNAVODSK— DISTILLATION  OF  SEA-WATER.    65 

long  rows  of  colonnaded  villa-like  residences  on  the  margin 
of  the  bay,  to  the  Governor's  palatial  mansion,  symme- 
trical rows  of  barracks,  and  the  orthodox  Eussian  church  in 
the  middle  of  the  great  square.  Erasnavodsk  means,  in 
Eussian,  'red  water.'  In  Tartar  its  name  is  Eizil  Su. 
The  Turcomans,  for  one  reason  or  another,  call  it  Shah 
Eaddam,  'the  footmark  of  the  King.'  It  is  purely  and 
simply  a  military  colony.  Three  battalions  occupied  the 
place  when  I  visited  it.  It  is  surrounded  by  an  embattled 
wall,  the  ramparts  mounting  half-a-dozen  field  guns.  A 
semicircle  of  scorched-looking  hills  forms  a  curve  to  the 
northward,  each  extremity  of  the  arc  resting  upon  the  sea- 
shore. It  would  be  impossible  to  conceive  anything  more 
bleak  or  desolate-looking  than  the  scarped,  scraggy  cliffs  of 
rose-coloured  alabaster  which  face  the  town.  Did  it  lie  in 
the  bottom  of  a  volcano  crater,  the  barrenness  and  dryness 
could  not  be  greater.  The  natural  water  of  the  place,  very 
limited  in  quantity,  is  absolutely  unfit  for  human  use.  The 
position  of  the  town  had  been  fixed  upon  for  strategic 
reasons,  and  as  drinkable  water  was  a  necessity  it  has  been 
supplied  by  artificial  means.  On  the  sea-shore,  close  to 
the  extremity  of  one  of  the  two  piers,  is  an  establishment 
for  the  distillation  of  sea- water.  The  wood  fuel  is  brought, 
at  an  enormous  cost,  from  Lenkoran,  on  the  opposite  Cas- 
pian shore.  The  distilled  water  is  supplied  regularly  to 
the  troops,  and  the  few  civilians  within  the  place  can  obtain 
it  at  a  trifling  cost.  Later  on  I  dare  say  that  engineers,  by 
digging  wells  to  an  extreme  depth,  may  possibly  procure 
water  fit  for  human  consumption.  In  this  regard  as  well 
as  in  all  others  connected  with  the  sustaining  of  human 
life,  Erasnavodsk  is  an  entirely  artificial  place,  and  I  must 
only  suppose  that  in  maintailg  a  military  ^lony  there 
the  Eussian  Government  attaches  much  importance  to  this 
particular  position. 

vol.  1.  F 


66  CLUB-PUBLIC  GARDEN. 

As  I  have  already  stated,  the  surroundings  of  the  place 
are  desolation  itself.     There  are  no  resources  whatever 
within  hundreds  of  miles.     Flour  and  other  necessaries 
come  from  Baku,  and  wine,  beer,  and  spirits  are  sold  at  a 
preposterous  price.    As  is  usual  in  even  the  tiniest  and 
newest  Russian  military  settlement,  an  extensive  club- 
house is  conspicuous  at  the  upper  end  of  the  town.    Here 
is  a  bar,  looked  after  by  a  canteen  sergeant,  and  a  ball- 
room floored  with  wood  mosaic,  which  in  dimensions  and 
style  would  not  yield  to  many  an  older  and  more  westerly 
town.    Here,  once  or  twice  a  week,  is  a  gathering  of  the 
officers  of  the  garrison  and  their  wives  and  families.    A 
military  band  plays  in  front  of  the  terrace,  and  the  even- 
ing is  passed  in  the  midst  of  gaiety  and  amusement  that 
we  should  little  expect  to  find  in  a  desolate,  rock-bound 
spot  on  the  north-eastern  Caspian  shore.     There  has  been 
an  attempt  at  creating  a  public  garden ;  but,  owing  to  the 
nature  of  the  soil  and  to  the  natural  water,  nothing  save  a 
few  scrubby-looking  tamarisk-bushes  have  been  able  to 
hold  their  own  in  the  midst  of  the  sandy  soil  and  the 
scorching  sun-glare.     The  greatest  care  is  necessary  in 
order  to  foster  even  these  few  bushes,  which  wpuld  look 
faded  and  miserable  beside  the  most  withered  furze-bush 
that  ever  graced  a  highland  mountain-top.    Beyond  the 
hills  which  guard  the  town  stretches  the  boundless,  weary 
desert,  death  and  desolation  written  upon  its  scorched 
face. 

There  is  as  yet  no  town  clock,  but  a  soldier  of  the 
guard  on  duty  beside  the  wooden  church  in  the  centre  of 
the  great  square,  each  hour  pulls  at  the  bell-rope  the  neces- 
sary number  of  times.  Apart  from  this,  the  bells  have  but 
little  rest.  The  Russians  are  notoriously  fond  of  bell- 
ringing,  and  as  the  Muscovite  Easter  happened  to  occur 
during  my  stay,  I  found  that  during  that  period  scarcely 


CASPIAN  FLOTILLA—SIDEROFF,  €7 

ten  minutes  elapsed  between  the  different  soundings.  In 
the  well-sheltered  bay,  and  close  in  shore,  were  half-a- 
dozen  Bussian  war-ships,  which,  as  I  have  already  men- 
tioned, were  decked  out  with  flags  in  honour  of  the 
General's  visit.  These  vessels  are  of  about  the  dimensions 
of  middle-sized  Channel  service  steamers,  and  are  armed 
with  four  to  six  twelve-pounder  guns  each.  They  were 
originally  set  afloat  to  check  the  piratism  of  the  Turcoman 
maritime  populations,  for  up  to  ten  years  ago  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  eastern  Caspian  littoral  acknowledged  no 
central  sway  whatever.  Now  that  all  this  is  at  an  end, 
and  the  sea  is  practically  a  Bussian  lake,  the  war-vessels 
serve  only  to  represent  Bussia,  to  convey  troops  and  mili- 
tary stores,  and  to  aid  in  keeping  up  postal  communica- 
tions. In  the  early  days  of  Bussian  naval  enterprise  in 
these  waters,  there  were  many  exciting  scenes  in  connec- 
tion with  the  chasing  of  the  Turcoman  luggers  which  were 
in  ih.  W.1  ^0/TP^^e.lL  *e  «„«,«„ 
Caspian  coast.  I  once  crossed  the  Caspian  on  board  the 
Ural  war-steamer,  commanded  by  Colonel  of  Marine 
Sideroff,  who,  at  the  time  of  the  occurrence  which  I  am 
about  to  relate,  was  a  lieutenant  commanding  a  small 
corvette.  Not  far  off  the  mouth  of  the  Atterek  he  sighted 
two  lodkax  containing  a  number  of  Persian  captives  in 
transitu  for  the  slave  markets  of  Khiva  and  Bokhara. 
Lieutenant  Sideroff  fired  a  shotted  gun  athwart  their  bows, 
and  made  them  bring  to.  He  transferred  to  his  ship  ten 
captive  Persians.  The  luggers  were  manned  by  seventeen 
Turcomans.  Then  the  lieutenant  withdrew  a  little,  and, 
putting  his  vessel  at  full  speed,  ran  down  both  the  slave 
ships.  Seventeen  pirates  perished.  After  this  example 
piracy  entirely  ceased,  and  the  addition  of  new  war-ships 
to  the  Caspian  flotilla  rendered  its  revival  impossible.  For 
this  prompt,  and,  as  it  proved,  salutary  act,  the  Shah  of 

f2 


68  MOULLAH  DOURDI-FORTIFICATIONS. 

Persia  conferred  on  M.  Sideroff  the  decoration  of  the  '  Lion 
and  the  Son/  of  the  second  class.  M.  Sideroff  is  now  an 
old  man,  and  the  anecdote  I  relate  I  heard  from  his  own 
lips,  as  he  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table  on  board  the 
Ural  war-steamer,  which  he  commanded.  The  same  even- 
ing he  told  me  anecdotes  about  a  certain  old  Moullah 
Dourdi,  a  renowned  pirate  of  the  Caspian  littoral.  He 
was  a  famous  corsair,  and  his  name  carried  terror  with  it. 
I  had  previously  made  the  acquaintance  of  this  gentleman 
at  Tchikislar  and  elsewhere,  and  on  those  occasions  had 
not  the  least  notion  of  what  he  had  been.  At  the  time  of 
which  I  now  speak  he  was  one  of  the  principal  commis- 
sariat contractors  for  the  Bussian  camp ;  and  to  see  him 
now,  with  his  long  robe  of  blue  broadcloth;  his  coffee- 
coloured  trousers  of  European  cut ;  his  European  shoes 
showing  immaculately  white  stockings ;  his  black  for  shako, 
a  trifle  less  gigantic  than  those  of  his  compatriots ;  and 
his  well-cut  face  of  grave  though  kindly  expression,  few 
would  dream  of  what  his  antecedents  had  been. 

Though  the  fortifications  of  the  town  are  in  themselves 
but  trifling,  against  a  Turcoman  attack  they  might  be  ac- 
counted impregnable.  A  loopholed  wall  of  brick,  flanked 
by  square  towers  armed  with  field  guns,  surrounds  the 
settlement.  At  the  date  of  its  foundation  a  number  of 
German  colonists  were  introduced  here,  and  one  is  occa- 
sionally somewhat  startled  at  hearing  the  Teutonic  language 
flowing  glibly  from  the  tongue  of  an  individual  brown  as  an 
Arab,  and  wearing  the  genuine  Turcoman  or  Ehirgese  dress. 

I  have  entered  so  far  into  details  about  Krasnavodsk 
partly  because  it  is  comparatively  unknown,  and  yet  des- 
tined to  play  an  important  part  in  the  future  history  of 
Central  Asia ;  and  partly  because  I  wish  to  have  done  with 
the  place  and  enter  into  other  matters  more  nearly  con- 
nected with  the  title  of  this  book.    There  is  a  postal 


OBJECT  OF  LAZAREFFS  EXPEDITION.  69 

steamer  once  a  week  to  Baku,  and  despatches  can  occasion- 
ally be  sent  by  a  war-ship  starting  on  Government  business. 
Two  years  ago  the  laying  of  the  cable  from  Baku  to  Rrasna- 
vodsk  was  successfully  accomplished,  so  that  every  day,  for 
intelligence  from  Europe,  the  people  of  the  settlement  are 
no  worse  off  than  any  other  denizens  of  the  Bussian 
Empire. 

At  this  point  in  my  narrative  I  cannot  do  better  than 
give  the  substance  of  a  conversation  which,  on  the  occasion 
of  a  ball  given  by  General  Lomakin,  the  then  Governor  of 
the  Trans-Caspian  district,  I  had  with  Colonel  Malama,  the 
chief  of  Lazareffs  staff,  and  with  several  of  the  superior 
officers  They  were  explaining  to  me  the  motives  of  the 
expedition  against  the  Akhal  Tekk6  Turcomans,  and  the 
ends  which  it  was  desired  to  secure. 

*  Rrasnavodsk,  having  no  raison  d'etre  of  its  own,  was 
founded  specially  as  a  maritime  emporium  of  trade  with 
Khiva,  and  Central  Asia  generally,  in  connection  with  the 
proposed  railway  from  Baku  to  Tiflis,  and  that  already  exist- 
ing from  the  latter  town  to  Poti,  whence  Persian  and  other 
merchandise  is  conveyed  by  steamer  to  Odessa  and  other 
Black  Sea  ports.  Ehivan  and  other  merchants  have  already 
crossed  the  Kara  Room  (Black  Desert)  with  their  caravans, 
to  Rrasnavodsk ;  but  so  often  have  they  fallen  a  prey  to 
forays  of  the  independent  Turcoman  hordes  of  the  interme- 
diate districts  that  commerce  by  this  route  has  long  since 
entirely  ceased,  and  goods  coming  to  Bussia  from  Rhokand, 
Tashkent,  and  districts  bordering  on  China,  are  sent  by  the 
longer  but  more  secure  route  of  Fort  Alexandrow  and 
the  Sea  of  Aral.  The  Turcomans  who  interrupt  trade  and 
carry  on  a  systematic  brigandage  on  every  side,  seizing  in- 
differently Bussian  and  Persian  subjects,  as  well  as  their 
neighbours  to  the  eastward,  and  retaining  them  as  slaves, 
or  holding  them  till  ransomed,  inhabit  the  district  known  as 


70  OBJECT  OF  LAZAREFFS  EXPEDITION. 

the  Tekke  country.  Its  western  boundary  is  close  to  the 
eastern  Caspian  shore,  its  eastern  frontier  is  ill  defined,  and 
it  stretches  from  the  Persian  frontier  as  far  north  as  Khiva. 
These  Tekke  Turcomans  are  a  most  untameable,  predatory 
race,  and  have  existed  from  time  immemorial  in  the  same 
state  of  independence  and  aggressiveness.  Their  country 
is  a  savage  wilderness,  in  which  they  shift  to  and  fro  accord- 
ing as  the  pasturage,  such  as  it  is,  fails,  or  the  wells  become 
dried  up.  The  object  of  the  expedition  was  to  break  up  the 
power  of  these  hordes,  establish  military  posts  along  the 
line  of  communication  between  Khiva  and  the  Caspian,  and 
otherwise  guarantee  the  security  of  transit  in  the  interior. 
The  readiest  means  of  effecting  this  would  be  an  expedition 
direct  from  Krasnavodsk  across  the  Kara  Koom  to  Khiva, 
leaving  entrenched  camps  at  intervals.  To  make  head 
against  the  Turcomans,  however,  a  very  large  force  was 
necessary,  and  the  direct  transit  across  the  "  Black  Desert " 
for  such  a  force  is  out  of  the  question.  The  few  wells 
which  exist,  situated  at  intervals  of  from  ten  to  twenty 
hours'  march  one  from  the  other,  are  entirely  inadequate  to 
supply  water  for  any  body  of  troops  over  a  thousand  in 
number,  and  the  water  is  moreover  of  such  a  character  as 
to  be  undrinkable  by  any  one  save  Turcomans  habituated 
to  it  from  childhood.  I  have  often  heard  of  the  "  brackish 
water  of  the  desert/'  but  I  had  no  idea  it  was  so  bad  as  it 
really  is.  It  is  strongly  impregnated  with  common  salt, 
sulphate  of  soda,  and  different  other  matters.  On  the 
stranger  it  has  a  strongly  purgative  effect,  producing  spasms 
of  the  stomach  and  intestines,  and  when  it  has  become 
warm  in  the  casks  carried  by  the  camels  it  is  an  emetic  as 
well.  Diarrhoea,  always  a  serious  evil  in  campaigning 
armies,  becomes  here  of  terrific  prevalence.  Apart  from 
this  lack  of  water  there  is  no  vegetation  sufficient  for 
cavalry  horses,  though  camels  seem  to  thrive  tolerably  well ; 


RUSSO-PERSIAN  FRONTIER.  71 

and,  besides,  a  direct  march  to  Khiva  from  this  would  leave 
untouched  the  main  strength  of  the  Tekkes,  whence  a  con- 
tinued' war  would  be  waged  against  the  necessarily  small 
military  stations,  and  raids  organised  against  the  caravans 
and  convoys  passing  over  the  long  intervals  between  them. 
The  first  move,  then,  must  be  a  purely  aggressive  one,  and 
aimed  against  the  hostile  centres  of  power :  the  next,  the 
establishment  of  posts  along  the  route.  It  was  at  first 
intended  that  the  expedition  of  twenty  thousand  men  of  all 
arms  starting  from  Tchikislar,  a  little  north  of  Asterabad, 
and  situated  on  the  Persian  frontier,  should,  for  the  sake  of 
water,  follow  the  course  of  the  Atterek  river  to  Ghatte,  and 
thence  continue  along  its  banks  as  far  as  possible  towards 
Merv,  then  turning  northward  and  attacking  the  centre  of 
the  Tekke  district.  With  a  view  to  this,  negotiations  were 
opened  with  the  Persian  Government,  for,  by  the  treaty 
signed  ten  years  ago  between  Persia  and  Russia,  though 
the  Atterek  was  agreed  upon  as  the  mutual  boundary,  it 
was  only  as  far  as  Ghatte;  the  Russian  boundary  then 
following  the  Sumbar  river  in  a  north-easterly  direction. 
The  negotiations  having  failed,  it  had  been  decided  that  the 
expeditionary  force  should,  on  arriving  at  Ghatte,  make  its 
way  along  the  Sumbar  to  the  Akhal  Tekk6.  The  route  is  a 
difficult  one ;  the  river  water  is  scanty,  and  charged  with 
marly  clay  ;  but  in  any  case  the  supply  is  better  and  surer 
than  if  the  salt  wells  of  the  desert  were  depended  on.  Besides 
opening  up  a  commercial  route  to  Khiva  and  other  Central 
Asian  provinces,  the  expedition  had  another  important 
object,  that  of  enforcing  the  acceptance  of  Russian  paper 
money  as  an  intermedium  of  exchange.  The  Turcomans 
have  little  or  no  coinage  of  their  own,  their  currency  con- 
sisting of  a  heterogeneous  mixture  of  Persian,  Afghan,  and 
other  money,  the  value  of  which  is  but  ill  defined,  and  so 
fluctuating  as  to  render  large  commercial  transactions  all 


J2    TRANS-CASPIAN  BALL-KHIRGESE  COSTUMES. 

but  impossible.  It  was  proposed,  after  the  happy  result  of 
the  expedition,  to  force  the  acceptance  of  the  Russian  paper 
rouble;  and,  by  way  of  beginning,  large  contracts  were 
entered  into  with  leading  Turcoman  chiefs  for  the  meat 
supply  of  the  army,  to  be  paid  for  with  paper  money/ 

Such  was  the  explanation  of  the  objects  of  the  expedition 
and  its  intended  route,  as  given  to  me  by  the  chief  of  staff 
and  other  military  authorities. 

During  Laaareffs  brief  stay  at  Rrasnavodsk,  the  festive 
gatherings  of  the  officers  of  the  garrison,  especially  at 
General  Lomakin's  residence,  were  unintermitting.  Dinner 
succeeded  dinner,  and  ball  succeeded  ball.  Within  this 
period  occurred  the  twenty-fifth  anniversary  of  General 
Lomakin's  marriage,  which  he  celebrated,  as  is  usual  on 
such  occasions,  by  a  ball  to  the  officers  of  the  garrison,  and 
the  visitors  staying  in  the  town.  To  this  were  invited 
several  Turcoman  and  Khirgese  chiefs,  who  happened  to 
be  in  the  place  contracting  with  the  Russian  commanders 
for  camels.  Never  before  had  they  been  eye-witnesses  of  a 
European  ball,  and  it  was  most  amusing  to  see  the  expres- 
sion of  unconcealed  wonderment  depicted  upon  their  faces, 
as  they  viewed  the  ladies  in  ball  costume  whirling  round,  in 
waltz  and  polka,  with  the  military  officers  with  clanking 
spurs  and  sabres.  A  Turcoman  presents  a  sufficiently  droll 
appearaijce  to  the  eyes  of  a  European,  when  seen  for  the 
first  time,  but  a  Khirgese  is  a  still  more  extraordinary 
spectacle.  Apart  from  his  fur-trimmed  robes,  which  are 
not  unlike  those  of  an  alderman,  his  general  appearance  is 
Chinese.  His  hat  resembles  a  stunted  extinguisher  of 
brown  leather,  round  which  is  a  bordering  of  lamb's  wool  or 
sable.  This  is  the  hat  of  a  magnate.  The  ordinary 
Khirgese  hat  is  a  very  remarkable  head-dress  indeed.  It 
is  like  the  other,  save  that  at  the  back  and  sides  it  is  pro- 
longed into  a  kind  of  cape,  a  fur  border  following  its  edges. 


GENERAL  LOMAKIN—DAGHESTANI  HORSEMEN.    73 

As  a  rule  the  Ehirgese  are  the  reverse  of  handsome,  and 
one  of  the  nation  wearing  his  usual  head-gear  would  irre- 
sistibly remind  a  stranger  of  a  baboon  who  had  donned  a 
fur  night-cap. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  evening,  or  rather  morning, 
supper  was  enlivened  by  a  very  characteristic  incident. 
General  Lazareff  had  proposed  the  health  of  his  colleague's 
bride,  and  General  Lomakin  was  returning  thanks,  when 
from  the  assembled  company  burst  forth  a  demand  that  the 
old  warrior  should  testify  his  affection  for  his  partner  by 
embracing  her  at  the  head  of  the  table.  In  the  midst  of  all 
this  merriment  the  poor  old  General  little  foresaw  the  cata- 
strophe which  was  so  shortly  to  overtake  him  far  away  under 
the  walls  of  Yengi  Sheher,  in  the  Akhal  Tekk6  oasis.  Some- 
times we  had  reviews  of  the  garrison,  or  of  the  irregular 
horse  passing  through  Krasnavodsk  on  their  way  to 
Tchikislar,  for  it  was  by  this  route  that  the  entire  cavalry 
arrived  at  the  latter  camp.  As  I  have  already  stated,  the 
water  for  three  miles  off  the  coast  is  so  shallow  as  to  pre- 
vent a  troop-ship  from  coining  within  that  distance  of  the 
landing  pier;  consequently  horses  coming  direct  to  the 
camp  had  to  be  transferred  to  Turcoman  fishing-boats  from 
the  transport-ship,  then  conveyed  to  within  half  a  mile  of 
the  shore,  when  it  was  necessary  to  hoist  them  over  the  side, 
and  make  them  go  ashore  through  the  shallow  water.  At 
Krasnavodsk,  on  the  contrary,  the  troop-ship  can  lie  along- 
side the  pier,  and  the  greatest  facilities  are  afforded  for  the 
debarkation  of  cavalry  and  artillery,  which  then  proceed 
over  land  along  the  coast  by  Michaelovo  to  Tchikislar. 

One  evening,  as  we  were  lounging  on  the  terrace  outside 
the  club  doors,  General  Lomakin  afforded  us  an  opportunity 
of  witnessing  the  peculiar  method  of  fighting  of  the  Cau- 
casian and  Daghestani  horsemen  who  happened  to  be  in 
Krasnavodsk  for  the  moment.    They  are  natives  of  the 


74  THROWING  THE  HANDJAR. 

north-eastern  portion  of  the  Caucasus,  and  are  esteemed 
among  the  best  cavalry  in  the  Bussian  service.    Their  uni- 
form is  almost  precisely  similar  to  that  of  the  Circassians, 
save  that  the  Daghestani  have  their  long  tight- waisted  tunics 
of  white  flannel  instead  of  the  usual  sober  colours  affected 
by  the  Circassian  horsemen.  Hanging  between  the  shoulders, 
and  knotted  around  the  neck,  is  the  bashlik,  or  hood,  worn 
during  bad  weather,  and  which  is  of  a  crimson  colour.    On 
either  side  of  the  breast  are  one  or  more  rows  of  metal  cart- 
ridge tubes,  now  worn  simply  for  ornament,  for  I  need 
scarcely  say  that  these  horsemen  are  armed  with  modern 
breech-loading  carbines,  and  carry  their  cartridges  in  the 
orthodox  regulation  pouches,  instead  of  after  the  fashion  of 
their  forefathers.    Their  sabres  are  of  the  usual  guardless 
Circassian  pattern,  almost  the  entire  hilt  entering  into  the 
scabbard.    Hanging  from  the  front  of  the  waist-belt  is  a 
handjar,  or  broad-bladed,  leaf-shaped  sword,  very  similar  to 
the    ancient    Spanish    weapon    adopted    by   the  Boman 
soldiery,  or  resembling  perhaps  still  more  those  bronze 
weapons  found  upon  the  old  battle-fields  of  Greece  and 
within  early  Celtic    barrows.    These   weapons   they  are 
accustomed  to  use  as  projectiles,  much  as  the  North  American 
Indians  use  their  long-bladed  knives.     On  the  evening  in 
question,  a  squadron  of  these  Daghestani  horsemen  were 
paraded,  in  order  that  we  might  witness  their  skill  in  throw- 
ing the  handjars.    A  large  wooden  target  was  erected,  in 
front  of  which  was  suspended  an  ordinary  black  bottle- 
Then,  one  by  one,  the  horsemen  dashed  up  at  full  speed, 
hurling  their  handjcurs,  as  they  did  so,  at  the  mark.     It  was 
intended  to  plant  the  point  of  the  knife  in  the  target,  bo  close 
to  the  bottle  that  the  flat  of  the  blade  should  almost  touch  it. 
One  after  another  the  knives  of  the  whole  squadron  were 
thrown,  until  they  stuck  like  a  sheaf  of  arrows  round  the 
mark,  and  so  good  was  the  aim  that  in  no  one  case  would 


LESGHIAN  DANCING.  75 

there  have  been  the  slightest  possibility  of  missing  so  large 
a  mark  as  a  man's  body. 

After  this  exhibition  of  skill,  the  Lesghi,  as  the  Daghe- 
stani  are  occasionally  called,  performed  some  of  their 
national  dances,  to  the  music  of  the  pipe  and  tabor.  Two 
dancers  at  a  time  stepped  into  the  circle  formed  around 
them  by  their  comrades.  Each  placed  the  back  of  his  right 
hand  across  his  month,  holding  the  elbow  eleyated  in  the 
air;  the  left  arm  was  held  at  its  fullest  extent,  sloping 
slightly  downwards,  the  palm  turned  to  the  rear.  In  this 
somewhat  singular  attitude  they  commenced  sliding  round  the 
ring  with  a  peculiar  waltzing  step ;  then,  suddenly  confront- 
ing each  other,  they  broke  into  a  furious  jig,  going  foster 
and  faster  as  the  music  increased  in  pace,  and  when,  all 
breathless,  they  retired  into  the  ranks,  their  places  were 
immediately  taken  by  another  pair.  Occasionally  one  of 
the  more  skilful  would  arm  himself  with  two  handjars,  and, 
placing  the  points  on  either  side  of  his  neck,  go  through  the 
most  violent  calisthenic  movements,  with  the'  view  of 
showing  the  perfect  control  he  had  over  his  muscles. 


76  AN  EXPLORING  EXPEDITION 


CHAPTER  V. 

KABA.-B0GHAZ   8ULPHTJB  DISTBICT. 

Gypsum  rocks— <X(;«^-Natural  paraffin— Post  of  Ghoui-Bournak— Gamel- 
thorn  and  ckiraUm—  Large  lizards — Ghoui-Sulmen — Nummulitic  lime- 
stone—Salty water— Method  of  drawing  it  np— Effect  of  washing— 
Turcoman  smoking— Waiting  for  dawn— Shores  of  Kara-Boghas— Search- 
ing for  sulphur— Black  and  red  lava— Kukurt-Daghi— Ghoni-Kabyl— 
Argillaceous  sand — Turcoman  and  Khirgese  horses — An  alarm  and 
retreat — Back  to  Bournak. 

Dubing  my  stay  at  Krasnavodsk,  I  made  the  acquaintance 
of  an  Armenian  gentleman  who  had  come  there  with  the 
intention  of  scientifically  exploring  the  neighbourhood,  and 
discovering  what  its  mineral  resources  might  be.  He  was 
especially  in  search  of  certain  sulphur  mines  reported  to 
exist  upon  the  shores  of  the  Kara  Boghaz,  the  great  expanse 
of  shallow  water  lying  to  the  north  of  Krasnavodsk.  He 
had  succeeded  in  obtaining  from  General  Lomakin  a  guard 
of  fifteen  Yamud  Turcomans,  acting  as  Bussian  auxiliary 
irregular  horse,  and,  gathering  from  some  conversation 
with-  me  that  I  was  interested  in  geological  researches, 
asked  me  to  accompany  him  on  his  expedition.  We  started 
early  in  the  morning,  and,  mounted  upon  hardy  little 
Khirgese  ponies,  climbed  the  horrid-looking,  burnt-up 
ravines  that  lead  through  the  amphitheatre  of  hills  which 
guard  Krasnavodsk,  to  the  plain  beyond.  These  rocks,  as 
I  have  said,  are  of  rose-coloured  gypsum,  though  sometimes 
a  blue  and  yellow  variety  is  to  be  met  with.  Once  outside 
the  rocky,  girding  scarp,  the  Turcoman  sahra,  here  afford- 


OLD  WATER-COURSES— '  MINERAL   WAX:         77 

ing  an  unusually  luxuriant  supply  of  coarse  bent-grass, 
reaches  away  in  one  unbroken  tract  to  the  banks  of  the  Sea 
of  Aral.  Here  and  there  it  is  farrowed  by  great  shallow 
ravines,  their  sides  overgrown  with  tamarisk— odjcvr,  as 
the  Turcomans  call  it;  and  from  the  manner  in  which 
they  run  into  each  other  I  have  little  or  no  doubt  that  they 
formed  some  of  the  channels  by  which  the  Oxus  traversed 
its  delta  when  it  flowed  into  the  Caspian  Sea.  Even  still 
some  slight  traces  of  moisture  linger  about  their  bottoms, 
sufficient  to  produce  pasturage  for  the  sheep,  goats,  and 
camels  daily  conducted  thither  from  the  town.  The 
Yamud  shepherds,  perched  upon  every  slight  elevation 
around,  kept  watch  and  ward  lest  a  party  of  Tekke  Turco- 
mans should  sweep  down  upon  them  and  bear  both  them- 
selves and  their  charges  into  captivity.  At  the  time  of 
which  I  am  writing  some  four  or  five  thousand  camels, 
destined  for  the  transport  service  of  the  Akhal  Tekk6 
expedition,  were  concentrated  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Krasnavodsk,  the  greater  portion  of  them  having  been  most 
unwisely  sent  to  pasture  at  a  distance  of  some  twenty  miles 
from  the  garrison. 

Though  it  was  early  in  the  year,  the  heat  of  the  sun 
was  overwhelming ;  and  as  in  the  midst  of  our  wild-looking 
escort  we  rode  across  these  naked,  burned-up  plains,  I' 
could  well  appreciate  how  welcome  was  the  *  shadow  of  a 
great  rock  in  a  weary  land.'  Far,  far  off,  on  either  hand, 
loomed,  faintly  violet,  some  minor  hills,  which,  my  com- 
panion assured  me,  were  replete  with  mineral  treasures, 
especially  with  a  very  pure  kind  of  natural  paraffin,  or 
mineral  wax  (psocheryte),  as  it  is  commonly  called.  Apart 
from  the  stray  camels  and  flocks,  the  only  living  things  to 
be  seen  were  huge  spotted  lizards,  who  stared  eagerly  at  us 
as  we  went  by,  and  tortoises,  crawling  about  over  the  marly 
surface,  nibbling  away  the  stunted  chiratcm  around  them. 


7S  GHOUI-BOURNAK. 

It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  as  we  reached  the 
Russian   military  post  of  Ghoui-Bournak,   some  sixteen 
miles  distant  from  Krasnavodsk,  and  situated  in  the  midst 
of  a  desolate  plain.    It  consisted  of  a  small  rectangular 
redoubt,   garrisoned  by  two  companies  of  infantry  and 
about  twenty-five  Turcoman  horse.    It  was  a  frightfully 
desolate    spot.      There    was    absolutely  nothing    in    the 
scenery  on  which  the  eye  could  repose  itself  after  gazing 
over  the  illimitable  wastes.     Still,  the  garrison  and  their 
commander  looked    healthy  and  happy  enough,    owing, 
doubtless,  to  the  cheerful  insouciance  and  light-heartedneas 
which  characterise  the  ordinary  Russian,  and  which  serve 
him  so  well  in  a  soldier's  career.    The  captain  shared  with 
us  his  not  very  luxurious  meal  of  dried  Caspian  carp  and 
almost  equally  dry  sausage,  washed  down  by  the  never- 
failing  glass  of  vodka,  and  then  we  again  started  on  our 
forward  journey.    It  was  about  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
as,  utterly  overcome  by  the  heat,  we  drew  bridle  for  a  short 
repose.    There   was  abundance  of  scraggy,   scorched-up 
vegetation  around,  in  the  shape  of  camelthorn  and  ckiratan, 
but  not  a  drop  of  water  was  to  be  had  save  what  we  brought 
with  us  in  our  leather  sacks.    Our  halt  was  but  a  short 
one,  for  it  was  impossible  to  sleep,  or  even  to  rest,  in  the 
scorching  heat  of  the  sun,  though  none  of  those  pests  of 
the  east,  flies,  were  present — the  spot  was  too  inhospitable 
even  for  them.     Though  the  country  was  for  the  most  part 
bare  and  desolate,  it  was  strangely  accidented  by  shallow 
ravines,  which  were,  indubitably,  old  watercourses,  along 
whose  bottoms  and  Bides  bushes  of  various  kinds  grew 
thickly.    We  varied  the  monotony  of  the  journey  by  racing, 
and  dangerous  work  it  was,  for  the  ground  was  everywhere 
burrowed  into  by  great  chameleon-like  lizards — sometimes 
two  feet  long — and  every  now  and  then  a  horseman  came  to 
grief,  owing  to  his  steed  involuntarily  thrusting  a  leg  into 


GHOUI-SULMENSALTY  WATER.  79 

one  of  these  pitfalls.  At  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  we 
reached  a  kind  of  basin,  situated  in  the  midst  of  low  hills, 
if  I  may  call  elevations  of  fifty  feet  or  so  by  that  name. 
This  basin  might  have  been  a  mile  and  a  half  across.  Near 
its  centre  were  half-a-dozen  wells,  which  gave  the  place  the 
name  of  Ghoui-Sulmen.  Each  well  was  surrounded  by  a 
low  parapet  of  yellowish-grey  nummulitic  limestone,  and 
close  by  the  mouth  stood  a  couple  of  rude  troughs  of  the 
same  material.  The  workmanship  of  these  was  of  the 
rudest  description,  and  I  have  no  doubt,  from  the  present 
condition  of  affairs  on  these  plains,  and  the  utter  absence 
of  public  enterprise,  that  these  traces  of  man's  handiwork 
must  be  of  great  antiquity.  The  water  lay  at  least  forty 
feet  below  the  level  of  the  well-mouth,  and  could  only  be 
procured  by  being  fished  up  in  the  nose-bags  of  our  horses, 
let  down  by  the  united  tethering-ropes  of  several  of  the 
party.  This  water  was  execrable  in  the  extreme.  I  under- 
stand that  it  contains  a  large  percentage  of  sulphate  of 
soda  and  common  salt ;  but  whatever  be  the  matter  which 
gives  it  its  peculiar  taste  and  flavour,  it  is  very  nauseous, 
especially  when  it  has  become  heated  from  being  carried  in 
the  leather  bags  in  which  water  is  stored  during  long 
journeys  in  these  parts  of  the  world.  It  then  becomes 
emetic,  as  well  as  strongly  purgative.  Coming  from  the 
great  depths  at  which  it  lies  beneath  the  soil,  it  is  icy-cold 
when  brought  to  the  surface,  but  even  then  it  is  intolerable 
to  any  one  who  has  been  accustomed  to  different  water 
elsewhere.  Not  being  able  to  drink,  I  tried  to  assuage  my 
thirst  by  bathing  my  face  and  hands,  but  I  soon  discovered 
what  a  mistake  I  had  made,  for  when  the  moisture  had 
evaporated  I  found  the  surface  of  my  skin  covered  with  an 
extremely  irritant  saline  matter,  the  eyes  and  nose  especially 
suffering.  The  Turcomans  prepared  their  tea  with  this 
water,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  it,  though  after  the  first  mouth- 


80  A  NIGHT  HALT— PRIMITIVE  SMOKING. 

fed  I  was  obliged  to  cease  drinking.     The  horses  were 
watered  by  the  contents  of  the  nose-bags  being  poured 
into  their  troughs,  but,  as  at  least  one-half  of  the  water 
escaped  through  the  porous  sack  while  it  was  being  hauled 
to  the  surface,  the  supplying  of  twenty  horses  with  sufficient 
to  satisfy  their  thirst,  after  our  long  and  trying  march, 
was  slow  work.    We  collected  enough  withered  scrubby 
plants  and  roots  to  keep  up  half-a-dozen  camp  fires,  around 
which  our  escort  gathered,  their  horses  being  tethered  close 
to  them.    I  tried  to  put  up  my  tente  d'dbri,  but  found  that 
the  pickets  would  not  hold  in  the  loose  marly  soil,  so  with 
my  friend  the  geologist  I  was  compelled  to  encamp  &  la 
belle  etoile,  like  our  neighbours  the  Turcomans.     I  tried  in 
vain  to  sleep,  for  the  irritating  saline  matter  which  my 
attempt  at% washing  had  lodged  in  my  eyes,  nose,  and  ears, 
rendered  any  effort  in  that  direction  quite  unavailing ;  so  I 
lay  awake  during  our  halt,  gazing  out  into  the  solemn 
starlit  silence  of  the  desert,  where  not  even  a  movement 
like  that  of  the  horizon-girded  waters  or  the  murmur  of  a 
ripple  broke  the  unearthly  stillness.     Glimmering  camp- 
fires  shed  fitful  gleams  upon  the  swarthy  features  and 
strange  tuft-like  hats  of  the  Turcoman  escort,  bringing  out 
all  kinds  of  Rembrandt-like  effects  as  they  sat  conversing 
around    for  notwithstanding  our  fatiguing  ride  they  did 
not  seem  in  the  least  inclined  to  take  any  rest — or  indulged 
in  smoking  after  the  curious  fashion  which  they  adopt  on 
such  expeditions  as  the  one  which  is  now  being  described. 
The  Turcomans  rarely  smoke  anything  but  a  water-pipe,  or 
kalioun,  as  they  call  it,  but  as  this  is  too  cumbrous  an 
article  to  be  carried  about  on  horseback,  a  simpler  expedient 
is  resorted  to.    An  oblong  steep-sided  hole  is  dug  in  the 
ground,  some  five  inches  wide,  and  a  foot  deep.     Some 
red-hot  charcoal  is  taken  from  the  camp-fire,  and  placed  in 
the  bottom  of  the  cavity.    A  handful  of  tumbaki,  a  coarse 


THE  KARA-BOGHAZ.  81 

kind  of  tobacco  used  in  these  regions,  is  thrown  in,  and  the 
smoker,  kneeling  beside  the  hole,  places  his  expanded  palms 
on  either  side  of  his  mouth,  stoops  over  the  orifice,  and 
inhales  the  fames  of  the  tobacco,  mingled  with  air.  Three 
or  four  whiffs  from  this  singular  smoking  apparatus  seem 
quite  sufficient  for  the  most  determined  smoker  among 
them,  and  I  am  not  surprised  at  it.  I  nearly  choked 
myself  with  the  first  when  I  tried  it.  When  I  first 
witnessed  this  method  of  smoking  I  was  some  distance  off, 
and  as  the  tobacco  smoke  was  too  faint  to  be  noticed,  I  was 
under  the  impression  that  the  Turcomans  had  somehow  or 
other  discovered  water,  and  were  engaged  in  drinking. 

We  broke  camp  about  half-past  one,  and  continued  our 
journey  towards  the  shores  of  the  Kara-Boghaz  (Black 
Gulf),  on  the  borders  of  which  lay  the  sulphur  mines  which 
it  was  the  mission  of  my  friend  to  explore.  The  stars  gave 
but  feeble  light,  and  as  the  edges  of  projecting  strata  now 
began  to  make  their  appearance  the  road  became  so  dan- 
gerous that  after  two  miles  we  were  obliged  to  halt  again 
and  wait  for  dawn.  As  the  sun  was  rising  we  found  our- 
selves on  the  margin  of  a  vast  creek  reaching  inland  from 
the  Kara-Boghaz.  The  waters  lay  still  and  death-like,  and 
the  entire  surroundings  were  more  lifeless  and  ghastly  than 
any  I  had  hitherto  witnessed.  Not  even  a  bird  of  any  de- 
scription was  to  be  seen,  far  or  near.  To  reach  the  level 
yellow  shore  at  the  water  marge  it  was  necessary  that  we 
should  scramble  down  the  almost  vertical  face  of  the  cliff, 
some  sixty  or  seventy  feet  in  height.  It  was  composed  of 
terraced  layers  of  whitish-yellow  stone,  similar  to  that 
which  I  have  described  as  being  found  at  the  well-mouths ; 
in  some  places  tossed  and  tumbled  in  the  wildest  possible 
confusion.  Dismounting  from  our  horses,  and  leading 
them  by  the  bridles,  we  proceeded  to  scramble,  as  best  we 
could,  down  the  cliff,  being  often  obliged  to  hold  on  by  the 

vol.  i.  a 


82  KVKURT-DAGHI— SULPHUR  'POCKETS? 

tamarisk  bushes,  and  at  last  reached  the  shell-strewn  beach 

• 

below.  Following  the  strand  in  a  north-easterly  direction, 
we  reached  a  ravine  which  pierces  the  cliffs  in  an  easterly 
one.  This  was  the  spot  of  which  we  were  in  search. 
It  is  called  by  the  Turcomans  the  Kukurt-Daghi,  or  Sulphur 
Mountain.  My  friend  commenced  his  search  immediately, 
for  there  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost.  We  were  on  very 
dangerous  ground,  and  where  the  unfriendly  nomads  were 
frequently  to  be  •  found  encamped  preparatory  to  one  of 
their  forays  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Krasnavodsk.  Strewn 
around  were  fragments  of  black  and  red  lava,  and  the  en- 
tire place  bore  unmistakeable  signs  of  a  more  or  less  recent 
volcanic  disturbance.  Lumps  of  sulphur  were  to  be  found 
in  every  direction,  and  here  and  there  were  nodules,  em- 
bedded between  the  stone  layers,  and  in  the  indurated  beds 
of  detritus.  Though  we  found  tolerably  large  'pockets/ 
however,  nowhere  could  we  discover  any  real  vein.  There 
was  no  considerable  deposit  of  the  substance — at  least, 
such  was  the  opinion  of  my  friend,  the  geologist.  After  an 
hour  and  a  half  s  search,  we  mounted  for  the  return  jour- 
ney, and  I  was  not  sorry  to  leave  the  spot.  The  following 
brief  extract  from  my  note-book,  written  at  the  time,  will 
express  what  I  thought  of  the  place : — '  Kukurt-Daghi.  An 
hour  after  sunrise.  A  cursed-looking  place.  Hideous  de- 
solation. Not  a  drop  of  drinkable  water  anywhere.'  The 
waters  of  this  Kara-Boghaz,  which  is  an  immense  expanse 
almost  entirely  shut  out  from  the  Caspian,  with  which  it  is 
connected  only  by  an  exceedingly  narrow  strait,  are  an 
almost  saturated  solution  of  various  sea-salts,  mingled  with 
an  excess  of  sulphate  of  soda.  No  fish  of  any  kind  can 
live  in  them,  and,  as  I  have  said,  not  even  a  solitary  crow 
could  be  seen  along  its  horribly  desolate  shores.  It  would 
be  no  inapt  subject  for  the  study  of  an  artist  engaged  upon 
some  landscape  which  was  in  itself  meant  to  convey  an 


FRESH-WATER   WELLS.  83 

titter  abnegation  of  life.  After  an  hour  and  a  halfs 
examination  of  the  sulphur  deposits  we  rode  back  without 
further  rest  to  the  Sulmen  wells,  partook  of  some  dry 
bread  and  salty  tea  for  breakfast,  and  were  able  to  sleep  a 
little  before  the  fierce  midday  sun  put  an  end  to  our  rest. 
We  took  a  new  route  on  our  return  journey,  and,  riding 
across  a  country  exactly  similar  to  that  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  two  hours  before  sunset  we  got  into  a  sandy,  undu- 
lating area.  The  tamarisk  bushes  grew  high  and  close, 
and  were  even  mixed  with  a  peculiar  kind  of  osier.  This 
infallibly  denoted  the  presence  of  water.  We  were,  in  fact, 
at  the  Ghoui-Kabyl,  or  sweet-water  wells,  the  only  place  in 
the  whole  district  where  such  a  thing  as  really  drinkable 
water  is  to  be  obtained.  Here,  again,  the  wells  were  so 
very  deep  that  the  nose-bags  and  tethering  ropes  had  again 
to  be  put  into  requisition.  The  sweet  water  was  welcome 
indeed.  To  me  it  seemed  nectar  after  the  burning  thirst 
of  so  many  hours.  No  one  who  has  not  been  similarly 
placed  can  fully  appreciate  the  force  of  the  poet's  words, 
*  The  first  sparkle  of  the  desert  spring.'  One  thinks  him- 
Belf  passing  through  another  phase  of  existence  when  he 
actually  feels  the  cold  water  trickling  down  his  parched 
throat.  Our  evening  meal  was  as  scanty  as  before.  We 
had  bread  and  water,  but  considering  that  the  latter  was 
fresh,  the  meal  was  a  welcome  one.  We  washed  the  salt 
from  our  hands  and  faces,  and  then,  finding  it  utterly  im- 
possible, for  the  same  reason  as  at  the  last  halting-place,  to 
put  up  our  tent,  lay  down  to  rest  upon  the  soft,  yielding 
sand.  This  is  the  only  place  where  anything  like  6and  has 
come  under  my  notice  in  these  deserts.  It  is  argillaceous, 
not  silicious,  and,  unlike  the  latter,  when  moistened  turns 
into  mud.  So  fine  is  it,  that  when  grasped  in  the  hand  it 
escapes  between  the  fingers,  notwithstanding  every  effort  to 
retain  it.    Streaks  and  patches  of  it  are  to  be  found  in  all 

02 


*4     KEEPING    WATCH— QUARRELSOME  HORSES. 

directions,  and  I  apprehend  that  they  represent  the  beds  of 
ancient  watercourses.  A  bank  of  this  yielding  substance 
afforded  as  comfortable  a  couch  as  the  softest  feather  bed, 
for  it  adapted  itself  perfectly  to  the  form  of  the  sleeper, 
and  was  entirely  free  from  saline  particles.  I  am  unable 
to  understand  the  phenomenon  of  these  three  or  four  sweet- 
water  wells  existing  in  the  midst  of  the  desert,  where  all 
the  other  water  to  be  found  is  of  the  nature  of  that  which 
I  have  described  as  obtaining  at  Ghoui-Sulmen. 

As  usual,  several  camp  fires  were  lighted,  for  the  pre- 
paration of  the  inevitable  tea,  without  which  no  true 
Central  Asian  or  Russian  can  get  through  a  day's  journey. 
The  fires  smouldered  dimly  around  us,  for  the  Yamuds 
were  too  cautious  to  allow  a  blaze  to  be  seen  in  such  a 
place.  Ab  before,  they  did  not  go  to  sleep,  but  sat  crouch- 
ingly  around  the  fires,  chatting  to  each  other.  The  horses, 
each  tethered  by  one  fetlock  at  the  full  extent  of  its  tethering- 
rope,  ran  round  in  circles,  screaming  at  and  trying  to  kick 
each  other.  I  have  remarked  this  peculiarity  about  Turco- 
man horses,  that  while  towards  human  beings  they  are  the 
gentlest  and  most  tractable  of  creatures,  among  themselves 
they  are  the  most  quarrelsome  that  it  is  possible  to  imagine. 
There  is  a  second  peculiarity  which  I  may  as  well  mention 
here.  On  these  steppes  two  principal  varieties  of  horses 
are  found— one  the  long-legged  Turcoman,  the  other  the 
stout  Ehirgese,  which  latter  closely  resembles  an  overgrown 
and  extra-shaggy  Shetland  pony.  Turcoman  and  Ehirgese 
horses  invariably  fraternise,  and  live  together  on  the  kind- 
liest terms,  and  I  do  not  recollect  ever  having  found  an 
exception  to  this  rule. 

Notwithstanding  the  noise  which  the  horses  were  mak- 
ing— and  it  was  very  aggravating,  when  after  the  fatigues 
of  the  past  two  days  we  were  trying  to  snatch  an  hour's 
repose  -  I  was  sinking  gradually  into  slumber.     A  calm 


AN  ALARM  AND  RETREAT.  85 

seemed  to  come  over  the  bivouac,  and  everything  appeared 
tranquil.  I  turned  over  on  the  sand  to  make  myself  com- 
fortable, when  I  became  aware  that  an  unusual  agitation 
prevailed  among  the  ordinarily  calm  and  taciturn  Turco- 
mans. They  were  whispering  eagerly  together.  I  raised 
myself  upon  my  elbow,  and  looked  round.  Some  were 
hastily  saddling  their  horses,  and  before  I  had  time  to  de- 
mand the  reason  of  this  proceeding,  several  of -them  came 
hurriedly  up  to  where  myself  and  my  friend  lay.  There 
was  something  wrong,  they  said.  The  horses  were  sniffing 
the  wind,  with  necks  outstretched  towards  the  east. 
Either  strangers  were  approaching,  or  there  was  some 
other  encampment  near,  and  if  this  latter  were  the  case, 
the  encampment  could  only  be  a  Tekke  one.  We  held  a 
council  of  war,  and  decided  that  the  most  advisable  course 
to  adopt  was  to  move  on  immediately.  Sand  was  heaped 
upon  the  camp  fires,  horses  were  rapidly  saddled  and 
packed,  and,  like  a  party  of  spectres,  we  stole  silently 
away.  Several  Turcomans,  with  the  apparently  innate 
perception  of  locality,  even  in  the  dark,  which  is  acquired 
by  the  habits  of  life  of  their  race,  led  the  way.  For  myself 
I  had  not  the  faintest  notion  towards  what  point  of  the 
compass  we  were  directing  our  steps.  During  half-an-hour 
we  forced  our  path  among  the  bushes,  and  gained  open 
ground.  Four  Turcomans  were  thrown  out  to  reconnoitre 
in  the  supposed  dangerous  direction,  and,  anxious  though  I 
felt  over  the  situation,  I  could  not  help  wondering  how 
they  would  ever  find  their  way  back  to  the  main  party, 
in  view  of  the  intense  darkness,  for  a  mist  had  veiled  the 
thin  lustre  of  the  stars  which  had  hitherto  lighted  us  on. 
We  rode  as  fast  as  the  nature  of  the  ground,  with  its  lizard- 
burrows  and  old  watercourses,  would  permit,  and  it  was 
not  easy  to  grope  our  way  across  all  these  obstacles.  In 
an  hour  we  were  joined  by  the  reconnoitring  party.    They 


$6    BACA'  TO  BOURXAK- CAPTAIN  TER-KAZAROFF. 

reported  a  large  camp  to  the  eastward.  They  estimated 
the  number  of  its  occupants  at  some  hundreds,  and  be- 
lieved they  could  be  no  other  than  Tekkfe,  inasmuch  as  no 
friendly  force  could  possibly  be  in  that  direction  at  that 
particular  hour.  It  was  curious  to  note  how  these  Tamud 
Turcomans  feared  their  congeners  the  Tekkta.  Only  a  few 
years  previously  both  were  banded  together  in  common  hosti- 
lity to  the  invading  Muscovite.  A  few  years  of  Bussian 
domination  on  the  East  Caspian  littoral  had  transformed 
the  former  not  only  into  friends,  but  into  allies,  and  thrown 
them  into  the  balance  as  a  make- weight  against  their  wilder 
Eastern  brethren. 

The  sun  was  well  above  the  horizon  as  we  sighted 
several  hundreds  of  camels  browsing,  on  a  rising  ground, 
on  the  scanty  herbage,  and  tended  by  some  scores  of  Khir- 
gese  nomads.  We  hastily  communicated  to  them  the 
news  of  the  proximity  of  the  Tekkfa,  and  rode  forward,  as 
swiftly  as  might  be,  after  our  protracted  journey,  towards 
the  Bournak  post,  which  we  reached  about  two  hours  after 
sunrise.  We  reported  our  intelligence  to  the  Commandant, 
Captain  Ter-Eazaroff,  who  took  the  necessary  precautions 
for  the  safety  of  his  redoubt  by  placing  men  at  the  parapets, 
for  he  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  what  was  coming,  or 
that  the  Tekke  horsemen  would  dare  to  execute  the  coup 
which  they  were  preparing.  He  then  proceeded  to  entertain 
us  most  hospitably,  for  it  appeared  that  during  our  absence 
a  provision  convoy  had  arrived.  He  gave  us  wine,  vodka, 
and  ham,  refreshment  which  we  much  appreciated  after  the 
starvation  and  fatigue  of  the  preceding  forty-eight  hours. 


r 


A  RAPID  MUSTER.  87 


CHAPTER  YL 

▲  TXTBCOMAN  RAID — A  VISIT   TO   T0HQ1SLAB* 

Turcomans  in  view — Preparing  to  attack — In  a  predicament — Retiring  on 
Krasnavodsk— General  panic — Lomakin's  advance — Result  of  skirmish — 
Russian  military  funeral — A  trip  to  Tchikislar — Island  of  Tcheliken — 
Demavend~-Ak-Batlaouk  volcano — Difficult/  of  landing — Description  of 
camp— Flies — Turcoman  prisoner — Release  of  captive  Persian  women — 
Water  snakes — Stormy  voyage  to  Baku — Conversation  with  Lazareff — 
Russian  recruits— Prince  Wittgenstein — Cossack  lieutenant's  story — Off 
to  Tchikislar. 

I  had  slept  a  couple  of  hours  at  the  shady  side  of  the 
Captain's  tent,  and  was  in  the  act  of  making  some  notes  of 
the  day's  adventures,  when  scouts  came  galloping  up  in  a 
headlong  fashion  with  the  news  that  the  Tekk6s  were  ad- 
vancing in  force,  and  that  not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost  if 
the  camels  were  to  be  saved.  Notwithstanding  that  a 
border  post  like  that  of  Bournak  is  constantly  on  the  alert, 
the  rapidity  with  which  the  men  were  got  under  arms  was 
surprising.  The  captain  rushed  from  his  tent,  the  bugle 
sounded,  and  in  less  than  two  minutes  after  the  alarm  the 
first  company  was  moving  to  the  front  at  the  double.  As 
the  day  was  exceedingly  hot,  the  men  marched  in  their 
shirt  sleeves—  at  least  I  suppose  it  was  on  account  of  the 
heat ;  in  all  probability  an  order  to  that  effect  had  been 
issued,  as  everyone  in  the  company  was  without  his  coat. 
The  irregular  Yamud  cavalry,  some  fifteen  in  number, 
together  with  the  Ehirgese  shepherds,  were  driving  in  the 


88  TEKK&S  IN  VIEW— A  PREDICAMENT. 

camels,  which  could  not,  however,  be  got  to  accelerate  their 
usual  slow  and  dignified  pace.  Owing  to  this  fact,  many 
of  the  Khirgese  were  cut  down  by  the  foremost  Tekk6 
horsemen.  I  believe  that  in  all  there  were  about  four 
thousand  camels.  So  rapid  was  the  preparation  that  the 
captain  had  not  even  time  to  load  his  revolver,  and  I 
lent  him  mine  for  the  occasion.  The  promptitude  with 
which  he  marched  to  the  relief  of  the  camel  drivers  was 
beyond  all  praise.  Within  ten  minutes  after  the  departure 
of  the  first  company,  the  second,  in  reserve,  marched  with 
the  camels  carrying  the  spare  ammunition,  leaving  only 
half-a-dozen  men  to  garrison  the  redoubt.  The  first  com- 
pany was  scarcely  five  hundred  yards  distant  from  the 
parapets  when  the  leading  Tekkes  appeared  in  sight,  gallop- 
ing along  the  summit  of  the  long  undulation  of  the  plain, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  many  hundreds  of  them  were  in  view. 
Some  affrighted  Khirgese  drivers  who  came  in  said  that  the 
greater  number  of  their  companions  had  been  killed,  a 
large  proportion  of  the  camels  taken,  and  at  least  two 
thousand  sheep  swept  away.  They  reported  that  the 
Tekkes  were  at  least  two  thousand  strong,  and  that  a 
large  number  of  them  were  horsemen,  the  remainder  being 
infantry  mounted  upon  camels  and  asses.  Firing  had 
already  commenced,  and  myself  and  my  friend  were  sorely 
puzzled  as  to  what  course  we  should  pursue.  The  position, 
for  us,  was  an  exceedingly  difficult  one.  I  much  desired 
to  go  forward  and  witness  the  skirmish,  but  the  condition 
of  our  horses,  after  two  days'  hard  riding,  with  little  or  no 
food  save  the  few  handfuls  of  corn  which  we  had  in  our 
saddle-bags,  rendered  it  excessively  dangerous  for  us  to 
proceed  into  the  press  of  combat,  especially  as  it  waa  as 
likely  as  not  that  the  slender  Russian  infantry  force  would 
be  compelled  to  retreat,  even  if  it  were  not  annihilated. 
In  the  latter  case,  and  with  our  jaded  horses,  we  were 


A  HASTY  RETREAT.  89 

certain  to  be  captured,  and  mutilation,  if  not  death,  would 
have  been  our  portion.  To  await  the  result  of  the  fight  in 
the  redoubt,  with  its  few  defenders,  was  equally  precarious, 
for  in  the  event  of  the  Tekkes  being  victorious  they  would 
have  little  difficulty  in  overwhelming  the  few  men  who 
remained  behind.  To  retreat  was  fraught  with  danger 
also,  for  as  the  Tekkes  were  in  great  force  a  party  had 
probably  been  detailed  to  cut  off  communication  with 
Erasnavodsk.  Further,  as  they  seemed  for  the  moment 
to  be  retiring  before  the  two  companies  of  infantry,  we 
thought  it  best  to  make  good  our  retreat,  while  there 
was  yet  an  opportunity,  as  fast  as  our  fatigued  horses  could 
carry  us.  Our  baggage  was  rapidly  packed,  and  we  retired 
as  swiftly  as  we  could.  Half  a  mile  to  the  south  of  the 
post  of  Bournak  is  another  reach  of  ground  commanding  an 
extensive  view  over  the  plain,  and  from  this,  though  at  a 
pretty  long  distance,  I  could,  with  the  aid  of  my  field  glass, 
follow  the  movements  of  the  Tekkes.  It  was  not  easy, 
however,  to  make  out  which  way  the  combat  was  going, 
for  the  entire  plain  was  covered  with  groups  of  horsemen, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  detect  to  which  side  they  belonged. 
Once  outside  of  the  protecting  parapets  of  the  redoubt,  our 
most  prudent  course  was  to  make  the  best  of  our  way  to 
Erasnavodsk. 

Our  worn-out  horses  took  at  least  three  hours  to 
cover  the  eighteen  miles  which  intervened  between  us 
and  that  town.  I  had  serious  reason  to  believe  that  a 
turning  movement  would  be  attempted,  this  being  a 
favourite  Turcoman  tactic ;  and  we  were  more  than  once 
scared  by  the  appearance  of  groups  of  horsemen,  driving 
camels  and  sheep  befo  *e  them,  and  spreading  all  over  the 
plain  between  us  and  Erasnavodsk.  If  they  were  enemies 
it  was  useless  to  attempt  to  escape,  so  we  pushed  on,  and 
found  that  we  had  been  alarmed  by  the  shepherd  popula- 


<y>LOMAKINS  ADVANCE— MILITARY  PRECAUTIONS. 

tions,  who  were  hastily  retiring  on  the  town  with  all  their 
flocks  and  herds.     The  panic  was  universal,  for  the  news 
had  spread  that  the  Tekkta  were  in  very  great  force  indeed. 
The  heat  was  terrific,  our  horses  were  rapidly  failing  us, 
and  I  was  in  a  general  state  of  weariness.    We  entered 
the  rocky  circle  of  hills  which  shuts  off  Erasnavodsk  and 
its  immediate  surroundings  from  the  plains,  and  as  we 
debouched  from  one  horrid  gorge,  with  its  gaunt  cliffs  of 
burnt  red  rock,  we  met  General  Lomakin,  the  commander 
of  the  town,  advancing  with  all  his  available  forces.    He 
had  a  battalion  of  infantry,  several  squadrons  of  Ehirgese 
lancers  and  Cossacks,  and  one  field  gun.    He  could  not,  in 
the  whole,  have  had  less  than  twelve  hundred  men.    I  very 
much  wished  to  turn  back  and  accompany  the  advancing 
forces,  but  the  condition  of  my  horse  rendered  such  a 
proceeding  entirely  out  of  the  question.    I  had  a  short 
conversation  with  the  General,  explained  to  him  all  I 
knew  about  the  situation,  and  once  more  pushed  on  to 
Exasnavodsk.    I  found  the  garrison  under  arms  upon  the 
ramparts,  and  the  artillerymen  standing  by  their  guns. 
The  naval  officers  on  shore  had  been  hurriedly  summoned 
on  board  their  respective  war-ships,  and  everything  showed 
that  a  serious  attack  was  deemed  possible.    As  I  entered 
the  town  the  people  crowded  round  me,  anxiously  question- 
ing me  as  to  what  was  the  matter,  and  where  the  General 
and  his  troops  were  going.    A  little  later  I  met  one  of  the 
Yamud  horsemen  who  had  formed  part  of  the  escort  of 
myself  and  my  Armenian  friend.      He  gave  it  as  hia 
decided  opinion  that  we  must  have  been  under  the  direct 
protection  of  Allah  as  we  got  off  from  the  Ghoui-Kabyl  that 
morning.    Had  we  remained  an  hour  longer  on  the  spot, 
he  said,  we  should  certainly  have  been  captured  by  the 
Tekk6s.    I  was  really  very  much  knocked  up  by  the  ex- 
pedition.   The  heat,  want  of  sufficient  food,  salty  water, 


RESULT  OF  SKIRMISH.  91 

and,  above  all,  the  absence  of  sleep,  had  quite  prostrated 
me,  and  I  find  in  my  note-book  the  following  entry,  which 
is  very  descriptive  of  the  situation : — '  I  am  very  ill,  and 
my  back  is  nearly  broken.  My  nose  is  almost  burned  off, 
and  my  breeches  are  torn  from  hard  riding.  I  must  go  to 
bed.' 

My  readers  may  be  curious  to  know  what  the  upshot  of 
the  whole  affair  was.  I  give  a  brief  account,  as  taken  from 
the  lips  of  various  persons  who  were  present  at  the  engage* 
ment.  The  TekkSs  gave .  battle  twenty-five  versts  beyond 
Bournak,  losing  fifteen  men  killed.  The  Russians  lost 
four  irregular  horsemen.  The  Tekk6s  captured  some 
hundreds  of  camels,  but  could  only  carry  off  about  two 
hundred  of  the  swiftest.  They  were  also  forced  to  leave 
the  captured  sheep  behind  them.  The  captain  of  the 
Bournak  post  did  not  venture  with  his  slender  force  to 
pursue  the  enemy  further.  General  Lomakin,  on  his 
arrival  at  Bournak,  halted  for  the  night,  and  on  the  next 
day  re-commenced  the  pursuit.  The  enemy  retreated  before 
him,  occasionally  halting  within  a  circle  of  captured  camels, 
which  they  made  to  kneel  down,  using  them  as  a  rampart, 
and  firing  over  their  backs.  Occasionally  the  range  was  only 
fifty  yards.  They  fired,  from  their  smooth-bore  muskets, 
spherical  leaden  bullets,  split  in  four  pieces,  and  wrapped  in 
paper.  These  missiles  are  admirably  adapted  for  use  on 
horseback,  and  inflict  very  uncomfortable  wounds  indeed. 
In  the  end  they  withdrew  so  far  into  the  desert  that  the 
General  thought  well  not  to  follow  them  any  farther.  The 
Russian  loss  on  this  occasion  was  four  men  killed  and 
twelve  wounded.  One  dead  soldier  was  discovered  with  six 
sabre  gashes  on  his  head,  his  nose  had  been  cut  from  his 
face,  and  he  had  undergone  other  mutilations.  A  woman 
who  had  been  captured  by  the  marauders,  but  who  slipped 
through  their  hands,  said  that  they  sacked  several  aouUt 


9a  CONCILIATION  OF  TURCOMANS. 

(villages),  carrying  off  women  and  children  and  murdering 
the  men. 

Thus  ended  the  first  of  the  series  of  combats  with  the 
independent  Turcomans  which  culminated  in  the  capture  of 
their  strongholds  at  Geok  Tep6  and  the  conquest  of  the 
Akhal  Tekk6  tribes.  These  same  tribes,  who  fought  so 
fiercely  against  the  Bussians  but  three  years  ago,  have 
now,  to  all  appearance,  become  as  much  their  obedient 
servants  as  the  Yamuds  of  the  Caspian  littoral,  who  but 
seven  years  previously  were  themselves  among  the  fore- 
most opposers  of  Muscovite  aggression.  Few  governments 
like  that  of  Bussia  would  know  how  to  conciliate  these 
newly  conquered  Asiatic  peoples ;  as  an  example  of  this  I 
may  mention  that  there  are  many  Turcomans  who  are 
already  decorated  with  the  cross  of  St.  George.  This  cross, 
which  is  of  silver,  and  in  form  not  unlike  the  Victoria 
Cross,  ordinarily  bears  on  a  central  medallion  a  '  George 
and  the  Dragon.'  The  Turcomans  objected  to  receive  a 
decoration  bearing  a  strictly  Christian  emblem,  and  accord- 
ingly a  number  of  crosses  were  manufactured  especially  for 
them,  bearing  a  double-headed  eagle  instead  of  a  '  George/ 
The  Turcomans  are  under  the  impression  that  this  strange- 
looking  fowl  is  a  cock,  as  they  themselves  often  told  me. 
This  cross,  charged  with  a  'cock'— as  well  as  neck  medals 
hung  by  variously  coloured  silk  ribbons— has  been  largely 
distributed  among  the  reconciled  nomads. 

Two  days  after  my  arrival  at  Krasnavodsk,  I  witnessed 
there  the  obsequies  of  three  of  the  four  regular  troops  killed 
in  the  skirmish  beyond  Boumak.  The  fourth,  being  a 
Mussulman,  did  not  share  in  these  ceremonies.  They  took 
place  within  the  wooden  church  standing  in  the  centre  of 
the  square.  Like  most  Bussian  church-singing,  the  chant- 
ing on  this  occasion  was  exceedingly  sweet,  and  the  rites 
were  of  the  most  impressive  character.    All  the  officers 


MILITARY  OBSEQUIES.  93 

and  most  of  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  were  present,  each 
one  holding  a  slender  lighted  taper  in  his  hand.  When 
the  coffins  were  about  to  be  closed,  each  of  the  comrades  of 
the  deceased  came  forward  to  kiss  the  foreheads  of  the 
corpses,  at  the  same  time  dropping  a  few  grains  of  rice  into 
the  folds  of  the  shroud.  A  sergeant  then  approached,  and 
placed  across  the  brow  of  each  a  slip  of  gilt  paper,  on 
which  was  written  some  inscription  which  I  could  not 
decipher.  The  coffins  were  then  closed,  and  carried  outside 
the  church.  A  procession,  headed  by  military  music,  was 
formed,  and  marched  to  a  distance  of  about  two  miles 
outside  the  town,  and  around  a  rocky  promontory  to  the 
cemetery.  The  'pope'  of  the  garrison,  with  long  dark 
robes,  violet  velvet  '  toque/  and  silver-tipped  staff,  walked 
beside  the  coffins.  The  interment  concluded,  the  three 
customary  salvoes  were  fired  by  a  squad  of  the  battalion  to 
which  the  deceased  had  belonged.  The  dead  Mussulman 
soldier  was  buried  far  apart,  on  the  bleak  hill-side.  As  we 
turned  again  for  Erasnavodsk,  I  noticed,  at  intervals,  many 
an  old  earthwork  and  trench,  with  an  occasional  soldier's 
grave,  surmounted  by  its  lonely  wooden  cross,  marking  the 
gradual  progress  of  the  Russian  arms  from  the  first  settle- 
ment within  the  Erasnavodsk  hills  to  the  present  outlying 
stations.  Immediately  outside  the  walls  was  quite  a  colony 
of  soldiers'  wives  and  children,  and  camp  followers  of 
one  kind  or  other.  They  were  not  allowed  to  occupy 
ground  within  the  place  itself,  for  in  Erasnavodsk  the 
dwellings  are  either  barracks  or  the  quarters  of  officers  and 
their  families.  It  is  only  in  the  bazaar,  as  one  of  the  great 
squares  is  named,  that  any  civilians  are  to  be  found,  and 
these  are  traders  from  Baku.  The  people  who  live  outside 
the  walls  inhabit  semi-subterranean  houses  like  those  of 
the  Armenians  to  which  I  have  previously  alluded. 

I  remained  at  Erasnavodsk  up  to  the  first  of  May, 


94  TCHEUKEN  ISLAND— A  MUD   VOLCANO. 

awaiting  a  definite  move  on  the  part  of  the  expeditionary 
forces.  In  the  interim  I  made  a  trip  to  Tchikislar  on 
board  the '  Ural '  war-steamer.  During  this  excursion  I  had 
a  good  opportunity  of  examining  the  island  of  Tcheliken, 
with  its  steep  seaward  marl  cliffs,  stained  by  the  black 
flow  of  naphtha  which  has  gone  on  for  ages  pouring  its 
riches  into  the  unprofitable  bosom  of  the  Caspian.  On  one 
of  its  highest  portions  is  one  of  the  tall,  sentry-box  looking 
objects  which  stand  over  the  petroleum  wells  worked  by 
Mr.  Nobel,  the  enterprising  capitalist  of  Baku.  Not  far 
from  it  is  the  twrbe,  or  monumental  tomb  of  a  celebrated 
Turcoman  saint,  which  attracts  many  pilgrims  from  the 
mainland,  and  serves  as  a  landmark  for  shipping  a  long 
way  out  to  sea.  Nearing  Tchikislar,  one  catches  sight  of 
the  huge  cone  of  Demavend,  the  mountain  which  overhangs 
Teheran,  hovering  like  a  gigantic  white  triangular  cloud 
above  the  southern  horizon.  Some  versts  north  of  the 
camp,  and  four  inland,  is  the  mud  volcano  known  to  the 
Turcomans  by  the  name  of  Ak-Batlaouk.  This  is  in  a 
state  of  constant  activity.  It  presents  the  general  appear-  , 
ance  of  an  oblong  mass  rising  abruptly  from  the  plain  to  a 
height  of  some  hundreds  of  feet,  and  made  up  of  a  series  of 
truncated  cones  of  whitish-yellow  colour.  The  craters  on 
its  summit  emit  sulphurous  vapours,  and  occasionally  over- 
flow with  boiling  mud.  It  is  generally  in  a  condition  of 
extra  activity  immediately  before  the  occurrence  of  one  of 
those  numerous  earthquake  shocks  which  are  experienced 
all  along  the  eastern  and  southern  Caspian  shores.  It  is 
doubtless  an  evidence  of  the  widespread  volcanic  action 
which  within  a  recent  period,  geologically  speaking,  has 
raised  the  Turcoman  plain  beyond  the  reach  of  the  waters, 
and  which  is  doubtless  still  in  progress.  Though  tradition 
speaks  of  the  bed  of  the  Oxus  having  been  shifted  from  the 
Caspian  to  the  Sea  of  Aral  by  human  agency,  I  am  very 


A  DIFFICULT  LANDING.  95 

much  inclined  to  think  that  the  gradual  elevation  of  the 
Caspian  littoral  had  more  to  do  with  the  change. 

On  May  3  we  cast  anchor  off  Tchikislar,  and,  on  account 
of  the  extreme  shallowness  of  the  water,  had  the  usual 
difficulty  in  getting  ashore.  The  steam-launch  took  us 
within  fifteen  hundred  yards  of  the  extremity  of  the 
impromptu  pier.  When  we  could  go  no  further  in  this  we 
hailed  one  of  the  numerous  Turcoman  luggers  (lodkas), 
which,  crowded  with  the  former  occupants  of  the  steam- 
launch,  had  scarcely  made  fifty  yards  when  her  keel  began 
to  scrape  against  the  bottom.  She  took  us  within  three 
hundred  yards  of  the  pier,  and  within  about  eight  hundred 
of  the  shore.  Then  a  kind  of  raft  was  brought  out,  the 
soldiers,  a  little  over  their  knees  in  the  water,  pushing  it. 
This  also  got  aground,  and  we  were  obliged  to  change  into 
a  number  of  small  canoes,  dug  from  single  tree  trunks,  and 
termed  taimuls,  in  which  we  managed  to  get  so  near  land  as 
to  be  obliged  only  to  splash  on  foot  through  fifty  yards  of 
surf  and  wet  sand.  This  will  give  some  idea  of  the  diffi- 
culty of  landing  horses,  cannon,  or  any  heavy  material. 
On  this  occasion  the  extra  shallowness  was  due  to  the  winds 
being  partly  off  shore,  and  forcing  the  water  westward  in 
the  same  manner  that  it  is  forced  inland  eastward  when 
the  wind  prevails  in  an  opposite  direction.  One  could 
scarcely  believe  how  very  gradual  is  the  deepening  of  the 
water,  and  the  long  distance  out  at  which  a  person  may 
wade.  I  have  seen  bathers  up  to  their  arm-pits,  apparently 
not  very  far  from  the  horizon. 

Tchikislar,  which  I  understand  is  now  almost  deserted, 
was,  at  the  time  of  which  I  speak,  in  all  its  glory.  Several 
thousands  of  men  were  under  canvas,  the  cavalry  to  the 
north,  the  infantry  to  the  south  of  the  original  sand  redoubt 
and  signal  station.  Between  them,  and  southward  of  the 
fort,  were  a  couple  of  streets  of  hastily-constructed  wooden 


96  COMMISSARIAT  PREPARATIONS. 

houses,  erected  by  the  Armenian  and  Russian  sutlers  and 
general  dealers,  who  invariably  accompany  the  march  of 
any  considerable  force.  These  dealers  were  doing  a  brisk 
business,  charging  enormous  prices  for  every  article  which 
they  sold.  Without  a  single  exception,  each  one  of  these 
establishments,  if  not  primarily  intended  as  a  drinking  shop, 
supplemented  its  other  business,  whatever  that  might  be, 
by  the  sale  of  vodka  and  other  spirituous  liquors.  Further 
southward,  along  the  shore,  were  the  commissariat  and 
slaughter  houses;  and  not  far  off,  somewhat  inland, 
immense  piles  of  grain  sacks  and  mountains  of  hay  began 
to  rise — the  commencement  of  the  accumulation  of  stores 
for  the  supply  of  the  troops  about  to  march  to  the  interior. 
The  immediate  environs  of  the  camp  were  in  a  disgracefully 
filthy  condition,  Russian  commanders  seeming,  in  this 
regard,  singularly  careless,  and  neglecting  the  most  ordi- 
nary sanitary  precautions.  As  a  consequence,  much  sick- 
ness prevailed,  and  the  hospitals  were  full.  Attracted  by 
the  filth  and  fostered  by  the  intense  heat,  myriads  of  flies 
clouded  the  air  on  every  side.  In  the  little  wooden '  shanty ' 
where  I  found  a  lodging,  each  movement  conjured  up  a 
perfect  storm  of  flies,  and  at  night  the  air  was  thick  with 
red  mosquitoes,  which,  however,  fortunately  did  not  sting 
very  severely,  or  else  existence  would  have  been  impossible. 
At  no  hour  of  the  day  or  night  were  these  winged  pests 
absent.  There  seemed  to  be  relays  of  different  species  of 
them  for  each  section  of  the  twenty-four  hours,  which 
regularly  relieved  each  other.  I  have  often  had  my  notes 
rendered  almost  unintelligible  half  an  hour  after  they  were 
written,  owing  to  the  dense  covering  of  fly-blows  upon  the 
paper. 

A  mile  to  the  south  of  the  main  encampment,  and  close 
to  the  water's  edge,  was  what  remained  of  the  once  popu- 
lous Yamud  aoutt  of  Tchikislar,  which  at  the  time  I  speak  of 


A   TURCOMAN  PRISONER— PERSIAN  CAPTIVES.  97 

contained  little  more  than  a  hundred  kibitkas,  inhabited 
mostly  by  families  attached  in  one  way  or  another  to  the 
3ervice  of  the  camp.  They  fetched  wood  in  their  lodkas 
from  Lenkoran,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Caspian,  or 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Kara-Su,  near  Ashurade.  I  remained 
only  two  days  at  Tchikislar,  for  besides  the  landing  of  corn 
and  forage  nothing  was  being  done  there.  On  the  evening 
of  the  5th  I  again  went  on  board  the  '  Ural/  in  order  to 
return  to  Krasnavodsk.  We  had  on  board  a  Turcoman 
prisoner,  who  was  in  custody  for  having  offered  armed 
resistance  to  the  giving  up  of  a  Persian  woman  who  had 
been  carried  off  from  the  South  Caspian  shore.  In  many 
of  the  ooulls,  even  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  Eussian 
camp,  and  along  the  Atterek  and  Giurgen  rivers,  large 
numbers  of  captured  Persian  women  are  still  to  be  found. 
Many  of  them,  having  married  among  the  Turcomans  and 
had  families,  are  completely  reconciled  to  their  position,  but 
there  are  others  who  retain  the  desire  to  visit  their  homes 
again.  The  circumstances  in  connection  with  which  my 
fellow-passenger  was  a  prisoner  were  as  follows.  At  the 
mouth  of  the  Atterek  river  is  the  large  village  of  Hassan 
Kouli.  Detained  there  as  a  captive  was  a  Persian  lady  of 
good  family,  who  had  been  spMted  away  from  her  home 
during  a  Turcoman  marauding  expedition.  After  two 
years,  her  relations  discovered  her  whereabouts,  and  made 
application  to  the  Russian  authorities  at  Teheran,  begging 
them  to  restore  her  to  her  family.  She  being  detained  on 
what  was  claimed  to  be  Russian  territory,  an  order  was 
issued  to  the  officer  commanding  the  naval  station  at 
Ashurade,  not  far  off  the  mouth  of  the  Giurgen,  direct- 
ing him  to  see  that  the  fair  prisoner  was  at  once  set  at 
liberty.  A  Turcoman  was  immediately  despatched  to  visit 
her  captor,  and  it  was  decided  by  the  elders  of  the  village 
that  she  be  given  up  in  accordance  with  the  demand.  Her 
vol.  1.  H 


98  A   SUMMARY  PROCEEDING. 

former  proprietor  was  furious,  and  bitterly  upbraided  his 
compatriot  the  messenger  for  having  undertaken  such  a 
mission.  '  Don't  you  know,'  said  he,  *  that  we  Turcomans 
never  give  up  our  prisoners  ? '  This  was  literally  the  case, 
for  it  had  always  been  a  rule  among  the  Turcomans,  and  is 
so  still  at  Merv,  that  in  default  of  ransom  or  exchange  the 
prisoner  is  never  to  be  surrendered — he  or  she  is  massacred 
on  the  spot  in  preference.  As  the  messenger  was  leading 
away  the  liberated  captive  from  the  door,  her  former  owner, 
stepping  back  into  the  kibitka,  seized  his  gun,  and  levelling 
it  at  the  envoy,  fired.  It  was  charged  with  split  bullets, 
and  the  pieces  lodged  in  the  man's  arm.  The  aggressor 
was  the  prisoner  whom  we  had  on  board.  The  relatives  of 
the  wounded  man  declared  that  if  the  culprit  paid  the 
necessary  blood  money — eric,  as  our  Celtic  forefathers  would 
have  styled  it — he  would  be  forgiven ;  otherwise  they  would 
call  for  justice  against  him.  The  Russian  officers  on  board 
told  me  that  he  would  probably  be  sent  to  some  town  in  the 
central  portion  of  European  Russia,  there  to  reside  for  three 
or  four  years.  After  having  become  duly  impregnated  with 
Western  ideas,  and  having  observed  some  evidence  of  the 
might  of  Western  civilisation,  he  would  be  sent  back  to  his 
home.  It  is  in  this  fashion  that  Russia  has  been  able  to 
transfer  to  far-off  regions  the  influence  of  her  power  and 
resources,  which,  going  before  her  standards,  has  often 
served  to  open  up  an  easier  road  to  her  battalions  than  they 
might  otherwise  have  met  with. 

I  remained  only  ten  days  longer  at  Erasnavodsk,  leading 
the  accustomed  life— *otree*  at  the  club,  dinners  at  the 
governor's,  and  driving  about  the  neighbourhood.  During 
one  of  the  last  excursions  I  made  along  the  rocky  shores  of  the 
bay,  I  was  struck  by  the  immense  numbers  of  water  snakes 
which,  leaving  the  sea,  had  gone  long  distances  inland.  I 
have  met  snakes  of  between  five  and  six  feet  in  length,  of 


WATER  SNAKES—SUMMONED  TO  BAKU.         99 

a  yellow  colour  mottled  with  brown,  by  threes  and  fours  at 
a  time,  crossing  the  scorched  gypsum  rocks  at  least  half  a 
mile  from  the  shore,  and  making  their  way  to  the  water, 
into  which  they  plunged  and  swam  out  to  sea.  From  on 
board  ship  I  have  seen  them  in  the  waters  of  Krasnavodsk 
Bay — five  or  six  knotted  together — floating  upon  the  water 
in  the  sun. 

On  May  15  I  was  sent  for  by  General  Lomakin,  who 
informed  me  that  General  Lazareff  desired  to  see  me  im- 
mediately, and  accordingly,  on  the  following  day,  at  one 
o'clock,  I  started  for  Baku,  where  the  Commander-in-Chief 
was  temporarily  staying.  I  took  my  passage  on  board  a 
large  transport  steamer,  whose  engines  were  unfortunately 
not  of  very  great  power,  so  that  when  we  cleared  the  point 
of  land  which  guards  the  harbour  against  tempestuous 
winds,  and  met  with  a  perfect  hurricane  outside,  the  most 
we  could  do  for  a  long  time  was  to  hold  our  own.  We  were 
forced  to  run  under  shelter  of  the  Island  of  Tcheliken,  and 
wait  until  the  winds  had  moderated.  It  was  only  on 
May  18,  at  two  o'clock  a.m.,  that  we  cast  anchor  under  the 
lee  of  a  small  island  five  hours'  steaming  from  Baku.  The 
ordinary  passage  from  Krasnavodsk  to  Baku  occupies  about 
thirty  hours.  Again  and  again  we  tried  to  enter  the  har- 
bour, but  as  often  were  driven  back  and  obliged  to  reanchor. 
It  was  four  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  Monday  when  we 
came  alongside  the  pier.  Baku  certainly  deserves  the  title 
given  to  it  by  the  old  Tartars,  '  a  place  beaten  by  the  winds.' 

On  the  following  day  I  had  an  interview  with  General 
Lazareff,  who  wished  to  obtain  some  unbiassed  evidence 
about  the  affair  at  Bournak,  in  view  of  the  complaints 
which  had  reached  him  from  different  quarters  relative  to 
the  want  of  promptitude  of  General  Lomakin  in  hurrying 
to  the  assistance  of  the  two  companies  defending  the 
camels.    He  asked  me  whether  I  believed  it  was  not  pos- 

h2 


loo  INTERVIEW  WITH  LAZAREFF. 

aible  for  Lomakin  to  have  pushed  on  the  same  evening  and 
followed  op  the  enemy.  I  have  already  stated  that  as  I 
rode  in  towards  Erasnavodsk  I  met  the  General  in  question 
hurrying  forward.  I  had  no  other  answer  to  give  than 
that  I  believed  he  had  acted  with  the  greatest  possible 
promptitude,  but  that  as  I  was  not  on  the  ground  on  the 
second  day  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  say  what  his  con- 
duct on  that  occasion  might  have  been.  General  Lazareff 
then  asked  me  if  I  thought  that  in  the  coming  expedition 
the  Turcomans  would  offer  battle  in  any  considerable 
numbers.  If  they  did  bo,  he  said,  it  would  shorten  the 
campaign,  as  it  would  at  once  enable  him  to  strike  a  de- 
cisive blow ;  but  he  feared  it  would  be  otherwise,  and  that 
they  would  adopt  a  Parthian  style  of  fighting.  He  had 
sent  them  a  letter  stating  that  they  should  either  immediately 
express  their  willingness  to  become  Russian  subjects,  or 
else  prepare  to  fight  well.  They  had  returned  no  answer 
save  the  raid  on  Bournak,  which  he  considered  as  throwing 
down  the  gauntlet,  and  as  evidence  of  the  adoption  of  an 
irreconcileable  policy.  It  was  quite  possible  that  we  should 
have  to  winter  in  the  Akhal  Tekk6,  and  he  declared  his  in- 
tention not  to  return  until  he  had  accomplished  his  mis- 
sion— the  'pacification/  as  he  was  pleased  to  term  it,  of 
the  district.  Further  operations  depended  upon  eventuali- 
ties. Should  the  Merv  Turcomans  take  part  with  their 
brethren  of  the  Akhal  Tekke,  he  would  be  obliged  to  move 
against  Merv,  but  at  present  he  had  no  definite  instructions 
in  the  matter.  He  concluded  by  Baying,  'We  must  do 
nothing  in  a  hurry ;  we  have  plenty  of  time  before  us  ' 

Baku  was  fast  filling  with  the  expeditionary  troops,  and 
in  the  streets  I  saw  almost  every  variety  of  uniform  be- 
longing to  the  Russian  service.  Baw  levies  of  the  Trans- 
Caucasian  regiments  were  being  diligently  drilled  in  the 
great  squares,  and  on  the  esplanade  beside  the  old  walls. 


ASIATIC  LEVIES.  101 

and  though  these  white-coated  soldiers  were,  as  far  as  arms 
and  accoutrements  could  make  them,  members  of  a  Euro- 
pean force,  their  physiognomies  distinctly  stamped  them 
with  an  Asiatic  type.  There  were  Armenians,  Georgians, 
and  Circassians  united  in  the  same  company,  and  occasion- 
ally, but  only  very  occasionally,  a  Mussulman  Tartar. 
Their  divisional  banners  were  certainly  of  a  very  Asiatic 
type.  One  day  I  was  watching  a  detachment  of  newly 
uniformed  recruits,  who  were  at  drill  in  the  open  space 
opposite  the  Governor's  palace.  "When  they  broke  up  they 
separated  into  various  groups,  and  marched  away  in  irre- 
gular order,  singing  to  the  beating  of  large  drums.  With 
some  of  the  larger  groups  were  square  red  banners,  sur- 
mounted by  an  inverted  brass  dish  set  round  with  small 
jangling  bells,  and  which  was  bobbed  up  and  down  to  the 
time  of  the  singers'  voices.  It  exactly  resembled  the 
apparatus  which  is  borne  at  the  head  of  a  Turkish  band  in 
Constantinople,  and  from  the  top  of  which  formerly  floated 
the  horse-tails  which  denoted  the  Pasha's  rank. 

During  my  very  brief  stay  in  Baku  on  this  occasion,  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  making  the  acquaintance  of  Ferdinand 
Prince  Wittgenstein,  Commander  of  the  cavalry  of  the 
expeditionary  force,  and  of  General  Count  Borch,  the  chief 
of  the  infantry.  The  former  told  me  that  he  commanded 
a  division  of  cavalry  at  the  great  battle  of  the  Aladja 
Bagh,  at  which  Mukhtar  Pasha  and  the  Turkish  army  were 
overthrown,  and  that  he  had  had  a  very  narrow  escape  of 
being  shot  by  the  Turkish  Circassians,  having  ventured 
exceedingly  close  to  them,  mistaking  them  for  his  own  men, 
their  uniforms  being  almost  precisely  similar  to  some  of 
those  who  were  serving  under  his  command. 

One  of  Prince  Wittgenstein's  officers,  a  lieutenant  of 
Kouban  Cossacks,  told  me  an  amusing  story  about  the 
manner  in  which  he  had  arrived  at  Baku.    Being  greatly 


ioa  ADVENTURE   WITH  DRIVER. 

pressed  for  time,  and  fearful  lest  the  General  might  depart 
without  him,  he  was  continually  hurrying  the  driver  of  the 
troika  which  brought  him  from  Tiflie,  and  when  within  one 
stage  of  Baku  insisted  upon  his  putting  on  extra  speed, 
adding  threats  of  the  direst  kind  in  the  event  of  non- 
compliance. The  Tartar  driver  was  so  terrified  by  the 
language  used  towards  him  that,  leaping  from  his  seat,  he 
rushed  nimbly  across  the  country,  leaving  the  gallant 
officer  to  conduct  the  three-horsed  vehicle  as  best  he  could. 
This  he  was  compelled  to  do,  and  he  appeared  at  Baku, 
much  to  the  amusement  of  his  comrades,  seated  upon  the 
foremost  edge  of  his  rude  chariot,  endeavouring  to  guide  the 
by  no  means  manageable  horses. 

Baku  is  not  at  all  an  agreeable  place  to  stay  in,  and  I 
was  not  sorry  to  receive  a  notification  from  the  Chief  of 
Staff  to  go  on  board  the  '  Constantine '  mail  steamer,  to 
accompany  General  Lazareff  across  the  Caspian  to  Tchi- 
kislar.  It  was  towards  evening  that,  having  made  my  pre- 
parations, and  packed  together  the  stores  requisite  for  a 
prolonged  journey  into  the  interior,  I  took  my  seat  in  a 
remarkably  Parisian-looking  fiacre  or  phaeton,  as  the  Rus- 
sians style  that  species  of  vehicle,  driven  by  a  big-hatted 
Oriental,  and  proceeded  to  the  pier.  General  Lazareff, 
Prince  Wittgenstein,  General  Borch,  and  Colonel  Prince 
Dolgorouki — the  latter  attached  to  the  army  in  some  capa- 
city which  we  could  never  understand — came  on  board. 
And  so  I  once  more  turned  my  back  upon  the  town  of 
Baku,  not  now  for  the  first  time  in  Russian  hands,  for  it 
was  captured  by  Ivan  the  Terrible,  the  celebrated  Czar  of 
Cossack  race,  in  the  year  1450.  As  its  crenelated  walls 
faded  from  view,  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  former 
phases  of  the  Eastern  Question  which  were  associated  with 
those  sun-tinted  towers  and  bastions,  and  how  closely  they 
were  connected  with  the  latest  one. 


KHIRGESE  AND  TURCOMANS.  103 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TOHIXISLAB  SKETCHES — ATTEBEK  DELTA. 

Khirgese  and  Turcomans  at  Tchikislar— Cossack  and  Caucasian  horsemen — 
Peculiar  customs  with  regard  to  dress — Samad  Agha — The  Shah's  cousin — 
Hussein  Bey  and  Kars — Nefess  Merqnem — Turcomans  in  Russian  service- 
Camp  police — Tailless  camels — The  knout — Baghdad  muleteers  —Decorat- 
ing soldiers—  Camp  customs — Soldiers'  games  —Races — Tchikislar  bazaar — 
Night  alarm — The  pig  and  the  pipe — Military  ideas  about  Asterabad — 
Turcoman  graves — Bouyun  Bache — Foul  water — Smoking  out  the  flies — 
Horse  flies — Sefid  Mahee — Abundance  of  fish — Running  down  partridges — 
Waterfowl  and  eels — Wild  boar  hunting — Atterek  delta — Giurgen — Ak- 
Kala — A  Turcoman  and  his  captive  wife — LazarefTs  decision. 

The  '  Constantino '  anchored  off  Tchikislar  on  the  afternoon 
of  Monday,  June  3,  as  usual  nearly  three  miles  off  shore, 
and  we  had  the  accustomed  difficulty  in  landing.  The 
arrival  of  the  Commander-in-Chief  with  his  staff,  and  the 
presence  of  some  additional  battalions  which  had  preceded 
us,  greatly  added  to  the  liveliness  of  the  camp ;  but  with 
this  exception  things  went  on  as  usual,  and  I  do  not  purpose 
repeating  what  I  have  already  said  about  the  place. 

One  of  the  most  peculiar  characteristics  of  Tchikislar 
was  the  presence  of  very  large  numbers  of  Khirgese  and 
Turcoman  camel  drivers,  and  of  muleteers  from  Baghdad, 
who,  under  promise  of  high  pay,  had  been  induced  to 
abandon  their  ordinary  track  between  the  latter  city  and 
Meshed,  and  to  come  to  the  Bussian  camp  for  the  transport 
service.  There  is  a  very  wide  difference  between  the 
appearance  of  the  Khirgese  and  that  of  the-  Turcomans. 
The  latter  are  of  a  more  or  less  slim  and  wiry  figure,  with 


to*  KHIRCESE  AND  CAUCASIANS. 

approximately  European  features.  They  wear  the  huge 
sheepskin  hat,  and  make  a  very  fair  attempt  at  a  regular 
system  of  clothing.  The  Khirgese  is  as  quaint-looking, 
awkwardly-dressed  a  figure  as  one  could  find  upon  a 
Chinese  porcelain  dish — the  same  impossible  eyes,  long, 
narrow,  and  dragged  upwards  at  the  outer  corners,  genuine 
Cathay  hat,  and  occasionally  an  umbrella,  which  would 
not  be  out  of  place  in  a  procession  of  stage  mandarins ;  a 
shuffling,  slovenly,  heavy  gait,  much  more  ungraceful  than 
the  walk  of  a  ploughman.  His  ordinary  garment  is  a  kind  of 
dirty  cotton  sheet,  twisted  anyhow  about  him,  or  at  most  a 
very  draggled  and  tattered  linen  tunic.  In  a  burning  sun 
he  wears  as  much  furry  clothing  as  an  Esquimaux.  On  his 
head  is  a  movable  conical  tent  of  felt,  which  falls  to  the 
middle  of  his  back,  and  which  towards  midday  he  supple- 
ments by  another,  and  perhaps  a  couple  of  horse-cloths 
besides.  Seated  on  the  scorching  sand,  with  his  stolid 
mien,  peeping  eyes,  and  strange  head-dress,  his  general 
appearance  is  that  of  one  of  those  squatting  Indian  deities 
of  a  pagoda,  clothed  in  rags  and  skins.  He  is  much  more 
solidly  built  than  the  Turcoman,  and,  with  the  exception  of 
the  eyes,  bears  a  close  resemblance  to  the  Oozbegs  of 
Khiva, 

There  were  large  numbers  of  Caucasian  and  Cossack 
horsemen,  all  in  picturesque  attire,  and  looking  quite  unlike 
anything  we  are  accustomed  to  associate  with  the  uniform 
of  a  regular  regiment.  Both  Cossack  and  Caucasian  wore 
tunic-like  garments,  fitting  tightly  at  the  waist,  the  skirt 
falling  almost  to  the  heels,  and  made  of  white,  brown, 
grey,  or  black  cloth.  The  breast  was  covered  with  one  or 
two  horizontal  rows  of  silver  or  brass  cartridge  cases, 
according  to  the  rank  of  the  wearer.  They  all  bore  the 
guardless  Circassian  sabre,  the  whole  of  the  hilt  of  which, 
save  the  top,  enters  into  the  scabbard.     The  Russian 


A  SINGULAR  CUSTOM— THE  SUA  ITS  NEPHEW.  105 

officers  serving  in  Asia  for  the  most  port  affect  this  style  of 
weapon  instead  of  the  regulation  sword,  carrying  it  by  a  belt 
slung  across  the  shoulder,  instead  of  girt  around  the  waist. 
There  is  a  trait  of  character  noticeable  among  the  officers 
of  Caucasian  cavalry  regiments,  among  the  Kabardian 
officers  especially,  which  is  worthy  of  notice.  Each  one 
feels  bound  to  have  both  arms  and  belt  mounted  as  mas- 
sively as  possible  with  enamelled  silver;  cartridge-boxes, 
tinder-boxes,  poniards,  and  other  accoutrements  being 
decorated  with  equal  richness.  Many,  however,  regard  a 
new  coat,  or  one  that  shows  no  sign  of  wear,  as  entirely 
inadmissible  and  unmanly,  and  altogether  in  mauvais  go&t. 
When  the  dilapidation  of  a  garment  compels  the  wearer 
to  order  a  new  one,  he  straightway  deliberately  tears  it  in 
several  places,  and  with  his  knife  frays  the  edges  of  the 
sleeve,  in  order  to  give  it  the  appearance  of  having  seen 
service ;  and  so  well  is  this  peculiar  taste  recognised,  that 
the  tailor  has  been  known  to  send  home  a  new  habiliment 
with  the  requisite  amount  of  tatters,  and  with  the  lower 
part  of  the  cuff  artificially  frayed.  We  had  in  the  camp  a 
band  of  irregular  cavalry,  formerly  professional  robbers  and 
marauders  from  the  neighbourhood  of  Alexandropol,  who 
were  told  off  for  the  special  duty  of  harrying  the  enemy's 
flocks  and  herds.  They  were  under  the  command  of  a 
well-known  brigand  chief  named  Saxnad  Agha,  a  Karapa- 
pak.  These  also  affected  the  same  style  of  dress  and  arms 
as  the  Caucasians. 

Among  those  attached  to  LazarefFs  staff  was  a  dragoon 
officer  who  was  a  cousin  of  the  Shah  of  Persia.  His 
brother  is  attached  to  the  Cossacks  of  the  Imperial  Guard. 
Their  father,  the  Shah's  uncle,  has  been  exiled  by  his 
nephew,  the  reigning  sovereign,  either  through  some  whim, 
or  on  account  of  the  fears  with  which  that  monarch 
is  troubled  anent  his  own  particular  dynasty.    A  short 


io6  HUSSEIN  BEY—NEFESS  MERQUEM. 

time  after  oar  arrival  there  came  to  the  camp,  with  offers 
of  military  service,  a  certain  Hussein  Bey,  a  Turk  whose 
mother  has  long  been  known  in  Europe  as  an  authoress, 
and  whose  book  upon  life  in  the  harem  created  a  sensation 
some  years  ago.  Hussein  Bey  himself  is  the  author  of 
several  books,  among  them  being  one  which  I  saw  at 
Constantinople  some  time  ago,  'Les  Imams  et  les  Der- 
vishes ; '  and  shortly  after  his  visit  to  Tchikislar  he  published 
a  very  interesting  letter  in  the  Temps  of  Paris,  extending 
over  three  or  four  columns,  entitled  '  Comment  nous  avons 
prifl  Ears.'  In  this  he  disclosed  the  fact  that  secret 
correspondence  had  been  going  on  between  his  namesake, 
Hussein  Bey,  colonel  of  artillery  within  the  place,  and  the 
Bussian  camp  outside,  and  that  communications  were  kept 
up  in  which  he  took  a  leading  part.  Why  the  services  of 
this  gentleman  were  refused  I  do  not  know,  but  almost 
immediately  afterwards  he  left  the  camp,  having,  I  under- 
stand, for  one  reason  or  another,  received  a  large  gratuity 
from  General  Lazareff.  Another  remarkable  person  who 
figured  in  the  camp  was  a  certain  Nefess  Merquem,  a 
Turcoman  chief,  and  former  khan  of  a  large  aouU  near 
Erasnavodsk,  which  had  been  totally  destroyed  by  a  Tekk6 
raid,  himself  and  his  son  only  escaping  from  the  universal 
carnage.  This  Yamud  elder  was  charged  with  the  or- 
ganising and  command  of  five  sotnias  (five  hundred  men) 
of  Yamud  Turcoman  cavalry,  to  serve  against  the  Akhal 
Tekk6s  in  the  ensuing  campaign.  This  will  give  some  idea 
of  the  manner  in  which  the  Bussians  utilise  these  tribes 
against  each  other,  and  in  which  they  will  probably  employ 
their  newly-won  subjects  of  Yengi  Sheher  and  Askabad. 

The  police  of  the  camp  were  under  the  direction  of  a 
Mussulman  Armenian  from  Erivan,  whose  name  I  do  not 
recollect.  He  discharged  his  functions  with  great  effective- 
ness.    The  police  administration  of  a  Bussian  camp  is 


POLICE  ADMINISTRATION.  107 

prompt  and  severe,  and  conclusive  evidence  is  by  no  means 
always  requisite  in  order  that  stringent  measures  may  be 
put  in  force  against  a  supposed  delinquent.    On  one  occasion 
a  servant  of  mine  embezzled  a  richly  enamelled  silver  belt 
which  I  had  bought  as  a  souvenir  of  Armenia,  and  refused 
to  restore  it.    I  reported  the  matter  to  the  chief  of  police, 
and  the  defaulting  servant  was  invited  to  return  the  article. 
He  denied  all  knowledge  of  it,  and  was  ordered  to  quit  the 
camp  within  twenty-four  hours,  and  not  to  return  without 
permission.    A  propos  of  police  administration,  I  saw  at 
Tchikislar  an  example  of  what  I  had  been  led  to  believe 
was  abolished  in  Russian  rule — punishment  by  the  knout. 
Large  numbers  of  Ehirgese  and  Turcomans  had  been  hired, 
together  with  their  camels,  to  serve  in  the  baggage  train  of 
the  expedition.    They  received  a  fixed  sum  per  diem  for 
the  services  of  themselves  and  their  animals,  and  in  case 
of  any  camels  succumbing  to  the  fatigues  of  the  road,  or 
being  captured  or  disabled  by  the  enemy,  the  owner  was 
compensated  to  the  extent  of  one  hundred  roubles  in  paper 
for  each  camel — a  sum  then  equal  to  about  ten  English 
pounds.    Many  of  these  people  brought  with  them  only 
the  very  weakliest  of  the  camels  in  their  possession,  know- 
ing that  they  would  not  be  able  to  dispose  of  them  at  so 
good  a  price  elsewhere,  and  took  the  first  opportunity,  when 
on  a  long  journey,  to  abandon  them  in  the  desert.    In 
cases  of  this  kind  they  were  required,  in  proof  of  their 
assertions,  to  bring  in  the  tails  of  the  camels  which  were 
supposed  to  have  died.    A  party  of  Ehirgese  and  Turcomans 
were  despatched  with  material  from    Erasnavodsk,  and 
directed  to  follow  the  shore  to  the  camp  at  Tchikislar. 
They  abandoned  their  camels  on  the  way,  having  first  cut 
off   their    tails,    which    they    duly    brought  into  camp. 
Lazareff s  suspicions  were  aroused,  and  he  ordered  a  party 
of  cavalry  to  proceed  along  the  track  by  which  the  camels 


K*  THE  KNOUT. 

had  passed,  and  to  scour  the  country  in  search  of  their 
bodies.    The  horsemen  came  upon  the  camels,  which  were 
calmly  grazing  over  the  plain,  in  as  good  condition  as  ever 
they  were  but  for  the  absence  of.  their  tails.    The  evidence 
against  the  culprits  was  overwhelming,  and  in  order  to 
make  an  example,  and  prevent  the  repetition  of  this  fraud, 
each  was  sentenced  to  receive,  upon  the  bare  back,  a 
hundred  blows  of  a  Cossack  whip.    This  instrument  in  no 
way  answers  to  our  idea  of  a  whip.    It  is  more  like  a  flail. 
The  handle  is  of  whalebone  or  cane,  with  flat  leather  thongs 
plaited  round  it.    The  thong  of  an  ordinary  whip  is  re- 
placed by  a  similar  combination,  and  united  with  the  handle 
by  means  of  a  stout  leather  hinge.     The  delinquents  were 
bound,  stretched  upon  their  faces,  a  Cossack  sitting  on  the 
head  of  each,  and  another  on  his  feet.    Their  backs  were 
then  laid  bare,  and  the  hundred  blows  were  inflicted.    They 
wore  severely  cut  up,   but  notwithstanding  the  suffering 
undergone,  not  a  single  cry  or  groan  escaped  their  lips.  Each 
seized  with  his  teeth  some  morsel  of  his  clothing,  to  pre- 
vent his  exclaiming,  and  doggedly  underwent  the  punish- 
ment.   Among  these  people  it  is  considered  very  disgraceful 
to  allow  any  amount  of  pain  to  wring  from  one  of  them 
any  groan  or  exclamation,  and  I  have  been  told  that  the 
man  who  exhibits  such  sign  of  weakness  will  not  after- 
wards be  able  to  find  a  woman  to  marry  him.    When  1 
happened  to  observe  to  a  superior  officer  that  I  had  believed 
the  punishment  of  the  knout  abolished  in  Russia,  he  frankly 
replied  that  it  was,  but  that  the  General  took  upon  himself 
to  administer  this  summary  chastisement,  inasmuch  as  the 
men  themselves  would  infinitely  prefer  it  to  being  sent  to 
prison  in  Baku,  or  perhaps  to  Siberia ;  and  he  was  probably 
right. 

The  Arab  muleteers  from  Baghdad  stayed  but  a  very 
short  time  in  the  camp.    They  were  so  frightened  by  the 


BAGHDAD  MULETEERS— TOSSING  IN  A  BLANKET  109 

tales  they  had  heard  of  the  sufferings  in  the  Turcoman 
desert,  and  so  imbued  with  fear  of  the  wild  Tekke  horse- 
men, that  they  forfeited  the  wages  paid  to  them  in  advance, 
and  retired  again  to  Persia.  I  understand  that  many 
hundreds  of  Arabs  were  on  the  way  to  Tchikislar,  but 
that  they  were  stopped  at  Asterabad  owing  to  the  repre- 
sentations made  by  the  British  Consul  to  the  Persian  local 
authorities. 

Some  days  after  his  arrival,  General  Lazareff  decorated 
with  the  Gross  of  St.  George  two  soldiers  who  had  distin- 
guished themselves  in  the  skirmish  against  the  Tekk6s  at 
Bournak.      The  battalion  to  which  they  belonged,  and 
another,  paraded  for  the  occasion,  and  the  General  con- 
ferred the  decorations  with  his  own  hand,  at  the  same  time 
presenting  each  with  a  money  gratification,  whether  from 
his  own  pocket  or  otherwise  I  am  unable  to  say.    Immedi- 
ately afterwards  I  witnessed  a  singular  custom,    which 
appears  to  be  put  in  force  on  such  occasions.     When 
the  ceremony  had  terminated,  the  men  broke  ranks,  and 
the  newly  decorated  soldiers  were  felicitated  by  their  com- 
panions, who  straightway  seized  upon  them,  and  placing 
each  one  in  a  tent  sheet  held  by  eight  stout  men,  tossed 
them  into  the  air,   repeating  this  operation  with  most 
troublesome  rapidity.     This  was  a  kind  of  roughly  good- 
humoured  way,  in  accordance  with  consecrated  usage,  of 
extracting  from  them  a  promise  to  treat  their  companions 
to  vodka  on  the  strength  of  the  gratuity  which  they  had 
received.    All  through  the  proceedings  the  greatest  good 
temper  prevailed,  both  among  the  tossers  and  the  tossed. 
On  the  same  evening,  on  paying  a  visit  to  a  major  of  Cos- 
sacks, with  whom  I  was'  acquainted,  I  saw  an  example  of 
the  manner  in  which  Bussian  soldiers  occasionally  amuse 
themselves  when  in  these  remote  places.     A  stake  was 
firmly  planted  in  the  ground,  and  two  ropes,  each  some 


no  CAMP  AMUSEMENTS— RACING. 

twenty  ieet  long,  were  attached  to  it,  tbe  extremity  of  each 
being  held  by  a  blindfolded  soldier,  who  carried  in  his 
right  hand  a  stout  piece  of  rope  about  three  feet  long. 
Holding  the  ropes  extended  to  their  foil  length,  they  were 
placed  at  opposite  sides  of  the  circle  which  they  would  be 
obliged  to  follow,  and  the  signal  was  given.  Each  listened 
intently,  to  try  if  he  could  discover  the  approach  of  his 
adversary.  In  case  he  did  so,  he  fled  before  him,  naturally 
moving  in  a  circle.  If  one  could  steal  a  march  upon  the 
other,  he  belaboured  him  with  his  rope's  end,  a  dozen 
blows,  I  believe,  being  the  maximum  number  permitted  at 
a  time.  The  performance  seemed  to  delight  both  the 
major  and  the  remainder  of  the  spectators.  I  have  re- 
marked on  all  such  occasions  the  unfailing  good  temper 
with  which  the  severe  knocks,  often  amounting  to  downright 
ill-treatment,  are  received  by  these  soldiers  at  each  other's 
hands.  In  fact,  I  do  not  remember  having  on  any  other 
occasion  met  with  an  exhibition  of  so  much  good  nature, 
under  such  trying  circumstances,  as  life  in  the  camp  of 
Tchikislar  brought  under  my  observation.  We  had  races, 
too,  as  well  to  break  the  monotony  of  existence  as  to  test 
the  quality  and  powers  of  the  officers'  horses,  for  only 
officers'  horses  were  permitted  to  join  in  this  sport.  I  have 
seen  Colonel  Prince  Galitzin  and  other  officers  of  rank 
ride  their  own  horses  on  these  occasions,  the  prize  for  the 
winner,  given  by  General  Lazareff,  being  a  somewhat  curi- 
ous one — a  pound  of  ice,  made  by  his  own  refrigerator,  for 
I  need  hardly  say  that  natural  ice  was  not  to  be  had  within 
any  '  measurable  distance '  of  the  camp. 

Since  my  previous  visit  to  Tchikislar,  a  large  number  of 
Tartars,  Armenians,  Persians,  and  other  Orientals  had 
established,  in  the  civilian  portion  of  the  camp,  that  in 
which  was  the  street  of  wooden  shanties,  a  regular  bazaar, 
got  up  very  much  in  the  fashion  of  those  of  their  countries. 


TCHIKISIJLR  BAZAAR.  in 

Large  quantities  of  fruit  and  vegetables,  brought  from 
Lenkoran,  or  the  mouth  of  the  Giurgen,  were  exposed 
for  sale,  and  there  were  many  rude  booths  for  the  sale  of 
cups  of  tea,  for  coffee  is  a  beverage  altogether  unknown 
among  the  general  mass  of  the  people  in  this  part  of  the 
world.  Here  is  a  man  entrenched  behind  several  barrels 
of  apples  from  Lenkoran;  there  is  another  whose  entire 
stock-in-trade  is  a  small  mountain  of  pomegranates.  This 
individual,  with  shaven  head  and  flowing  Oriental  garments, 
shrieking  in  apparent  agony,  calls  attention  to  his  melons, 
and  this  other,  mourning  over  the  monumental  samovar,  re- 
sembling a  brass  funereal  urn,  indicates  that  tea  is  ready  on 
his  scanty  premises.  A  Bussian  tailor  from  Baku  has  set  up 
his  establishment  in  front,  and  a  vendor  of  earthen  teapots 
from  Petrovsk  has  flooded  the  ground  around  him  with 
some  hundreds  of  the  articles  which  he  recommends.  I 
call  this  the  bazaar  in  contradistinction  to  the  main  street, 
or  'Prospect,'  as  it  was  already  dubbed  by  the  soldiers, 
where  the  more  imposing  wooden  edifices  of  the  Armenian 
spirit  and  grocery  sellers  were  established.  A  photographer, 
too,  had  been  added  to  the  commercial  ranks,  and  no  less 
than  two  watchmakers  had  opened  their  booths.  It  was  a 
most  incongruous  mixture  of  Eastern  and  Western  physio- 
gnomies, dresses,  and  commodities ;  and  as  an  incarnation 
of  the  whole  I  once  noticed  a  Turcoman,  in  genuine  nomad 
attire,  his  enormous  sheep-skin  hat  overshadowing  the 
remainder  of  his  person,  sabre  at  side  and  poniard  in 
sheath,  promenading  the  '  Prospect '  with  a  Parisian-made 
silk  umbrella  under  his  arm.  From  the  manner  in  which 
he  carried  his  new  acquisition,  he  evidently  felt  that  it 
added  no  inconsiderable  weight  to  whatever  dignity  he 
might  have  previously  laid  claim. 

Among  the  incidents  which  varied  the  general  monotony 
of  our  lives  at  Tchikislar  were  occasional  alarms  which 


l«        A  NIGHT  ALERT— A  RECONNAISSANCE, 

occurred  by  reason  of  small  bodies  of  Tekk6  horsemen 
venturing  into  close  proximity  with  the  camp.  One  even- 
ing,  about  ten  o'clock,  as  I,  sat  writing  in  my  kibitka,  I 
noticed  an  unusual  stir  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  cavalry 
quarters.  There  was  a  din  of  arms  and  *  mounting  in  hot 
haste.'  Hurrying  to  head-quarters,  I  was  told  that  scouts 
had  arrived,  announcing  the  presence  of  a  considerable 
body  of  the  enemy  not  far  from  us.  A  regiment  of  Kabar- 
dian  horse  was  ordered  out  to  reconnoitre.  General  Prince 
Wittgenstein  took  command  of  the  reconnaissance.  I  got 
my  horse  saddled  as  quickly  as  might  be,  and  overtook  the 
party  a  short  distance  from  the  camp.  The  night  was  very 
dark,  but  as  the  sandy  expanse  which  reaches  inland  for 
some  miles  from  the  edge  of  the  Caspian  was  perfectly  level, 
the  darkness  was  of  no  great  consequence,  so  far  as  riding 
was  concerned.  We  rode  five  or  six  miles,  sending  out 
scouts  in  every  direction,  but  no  trace  of  the  enemy  could  be 
perceived.  The  entire  night  was  occupied  in  this  fashion,  and 
dawn  was  just  breaking  as,  sitting  upon  our  bourkas,  or  hairy 
mantles,  we  partook  of  an  impromptu  breakfast  which  the 
general  had  had  the  foresight  to  bring  with  him.  Whether 
this  was  a  real  alarm,  or  only  one  of  those  manoeuvres 
often  practised  in  order  to  keep  the  troops  continually  on 
the  alert,  and  accustom  them  to  unforeseen  contingencies, 
I  cannot  say,  but  they  occurred  with  sufficient  frequency. 

I  cannot  better  conclude  the  chapter  of  accidents  at 
Tchikislar  than  by  mentioning  an  odd  incident  which 
befell  me  there.  Among  the  many  singular  inhabitants  of 
the  place  were  two  who  merit  special  notice.  These  were  a 
moderate-sized,  ordinary  looking  pig,  and  a  very  common 
looking  white  dog,  with  a  suspicion  of  the  cur  about  him. 
The  two  were  intimate  friends,  and  early  each  morning  set 
out  together  to  scour  the  camp  in  company,  calling  in  turn, 
in  the  most  intelligent  manner,  at  each  tent  door,  the  pig 


\ 

\ 


i  VAGARIES  OF  A  CASPIAN  PIG.  X13 

granting,  the  dog  barking,  to  call  the  attention  of  the 
inmates  to  their  presence.  In  this  way  they  systematically 
made  the  round  of  the  camp,  the  dog  evidently  considering 
himself  as  having  charge  of  his  stouter  comrade,  and  seem- 
ing to  direct  the  movements  of  the  party ;  and  when  even- 
ing approached  it  was  evidently  he  who  induced  the  pig  to 
return  to  his  home.  The  latter  frequently  objected  to  this, 
and  manifested  a  desire  to  prolong  his  strolls  into  the 
darker  hours,  but  his  companion,  taking  him  by  the  ears 
with  his  teeth,  conducted  him,  notwithstanding  his  remon- 
stances,  in  the  direction  of  his  residence.  One  very  sultry 
day,  I  was  lying  upon  my  carpet  on  the  shady  side  of  my 
kibitka,  trying  to  write,  and  smoking  a  briar-root  pipe  of 
somewhat  large  proportions.  With  the  view  of  completing  a 
sentence,  I  took  the  pipe  from  my  mouth,  and  laid  it  upon 
the  sand  just  outside  the  edge  of  my  carpet,  to  avoid  the 
risk  of  burning  the  latter.  For  a  few  minutes  I  was  entirely 
absorbed  in  my  writing,  but  I  was  roused  by  a  crunching 
sound  beside  me,  and,  turning  hastily,  perceived  my 
acquaintance  the  pig,  with  my  briar-root  pipe  in  his  mouth 
— not  in  the  act  of  smoking,  but  of  eating  it.  He  had 
already  eaten  the  greater  portion  of  the  head,  tobacco 
included,  and  when  I  attempted  to  recover  my  outraged 
property  he  made  away  across  the  camp,  and  it  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  that  I  succeeded  in  recovering  its 
shattered  remains.  I  keep  them  still,  as  a  souvenir  of  the 
peculiarities  of  Eastern  Caspian  pigs. 

During  the  three  long  months  that  I  remained  in 
Tchikislar,  waiting  in  vain  in  the  hope  that  a  move  in  some 
direction  would  be  made,  I  had  many  interesting  conversa- 
tions with  Bussian  officers  on  the  aspirations  of  Russia  in 
that  part  of  the  world,  and,  to  do  them  justice,  I  must  say 
that  those  aspirations  were  expressed  in  the  frankest  and 
most  undisguised  manner.  To  doubt  for  a  moment  that 
vol.  1.  1 


H4  FRONTIER  CONSIDERATIONS. 

the  Atterek,  along  its  entire  length  from  its  mouth  to  its 
source,  was  the  recognised  boundary  between  Persia  and 
EuBflia,  was  to  proclaim  an  open  heresy ;  and  I  heard  one 
general  officer  express  his  regret  that  Asterabad  had  ever 
been  given  back  to  Persia.  He  was  drawing  a  vivid  picture 
of  the  difference  between  the  situation  were  we  camped 
for  the  moment  among  the  shady  woods  beyond  the 
Giurgen,  and  our  then  position  upon  these  bleak  and  deso- 
late sands.  I  believe  that  the  general  feeling  in  the  Bussian 
armies  which  perambulate  this  portion  of  the  Empire  is  that 
Russia  was  too  generous  by  half  in  restoring  that  precious 
slice  of  territory  which  includes  Besht  and  the  old  capital  of 
the  Kadjars,  and  which  they  held  a  little  over  a  century  ago, 
and  that  they  may  consider  themselves  extremely  moderate 
in  confining  themselves  to  everything  that  lies  north  of  the 
great  mountain  range  reaching  away  towards  Meshed. 

Though  I  had  seen  the  Atterek  along  its  length  from 
Bouyun  Bache  to  Chatte,  I  had  not  yet  had  an  opportunity 
of  visiting  its  delta,  of  which  I  had  heard  a  great  deal,  and 
I  took  advantage  of  the  departure  of  a  hunting  party  pro- 
ceeding in  that  direction — organised  by  Prince  Wittgenstein, 
a  gentleman  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  a  hundred  kindnesses 
— to  explore  the  swamps  bordering  on  the  Caspian.  We 
started  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  intense 
heat  had  somewhat  diminished,  and  took  our  way  along  the 
shore  for  a  couple  of  miles,  then  turning  inland  in  a  south- 
easterly direction.  For  three  hours  our  path  lay  across  the 
sandy  waste,  here  and  there  being  half-dried  rainpools ;  for, 
strange  to  say,  we  had  had  two  or  three  very  heavy  showers, 
a  most  unusual  thing  at  the  time  of  year.  The  plain  is 
but  a  few  inches  above  the  sea  level,  and  at  a  distance  of 
three  miles  inland  we  had  sometimes  to  wade  half  a  mile 
across  great  shallow  expanses  of  sea-water  carried  forward 
by  a  slight  gale.    The  water  at  its  greatest  depth  did  not 


A    TURCOMAN  CEMETERY.  115 

reach  mid-leg  on  our  horses,  and  was  alive  with  vast 
quantities  of  a  large  white  carp,  known  by  the  Persian 
name  of  Sefid  Mahee,  or  white  fish.  The  water  was  evapo- 
rating, rapidly  leaving  the  sand  at  its  borders  thickly 
incrusted  with  salt,  and  strewn  with  thousands  of  stranded 
fish.  Even  still  further  inland  we  saw  these  fish  putrefying 
on  the  sand.  After  four  hours'  ride  we  came  upon  the  first 
traces  of  the  Atterek.  Thick  bent-grass  grew  in  abundance 
in  and  beside  wide  shallow  channels,  at  the  time  entirely 
dry.  Occasionally  we  had  to  force  our  way  through  dense 
brakes  of  bamboo-like  reed,  nine  or  ten  feet  high.  Farther 
on  was  a  large  sand  ridge,  one  side  apparently  scarped  by 
human  labour,  and  crowned  by  a  Turcoman  burying- 
ground.  Our  destination  that  evening  was  an  advanced 
Russian  camp,  one  of  the  connecting  links  between 
Tchikislar  and  the  open  of  the  Atterek  delta.  We  had 
evidently  missed  our  way,  so  throwing  out  a  party  of 
Cossacks  to  reconnoitre  the  ground,  we  halted  in  the 
cemetery,  which  commanded  an  extensive  view  over  the 
plain.  Night  was  rapidly  falling,  and  as  we  had  little  hope 
of  recovering  the  lost  track  before  morning,  we  preferred  to 
pass  the  night  where  we  were.  In  the  midst  of  the  little 
plateau  crowning  the  eminence  on  which  we  stood  were  two 
tarbesy  tombs  of  local  saints.  They  were  simply  circular 
roofless  structures  of  unbaked  brick,  some  twenty  feet  in 
diameter  and  twelve  in  height.  In  the  inner  surface  of  the 
wall  were  half  a  dozen  rude  niches,  meant  to  contain  votive 
offerings.  In  the  centre  of  each  structure  was  a  kind  of 
altar-tomb,  about  three  feet  in  height  by  eight  in  length. 
On  this  was  placed  the  skull  of  the  wild  desert  sheep,  with 
its  enormous  circularly  curled  horns.  The  fckull  of  this 
animal  is  a  usual  sepulchral  ornament  among  the  Turco- 
mans. The  ordinary  tombs  of  the  cemetery  were  such  as  I 
shall  have  occasion  to  describe  in  recounting  my  experiences 


u6  MOSQUITOES— BOUYUN  BACHE. 

at  the  village  of  Hassan  Kouli — wooden  poles,  old  boxes, 
and  articles  of  household  use.  Here  and  there  a  scraggy 
bush  growing  beside  a  grave  was  covered  with  fragments  of 
rag  attached  to  its  branches,  pieces  of  broken  porcelain  and 
earthenware  being  scattered  round  its  base.  To  enable  our 
scouts  to  find  their  way  back  to  us  we  lighted  a  large  fire  of 
old  boxes  and  poles,  which  were  lying  about  on  the  highest 
part  of  the  plateau.  No  sooner  did  the  light  appear  than 
we  were  assailed  by  myriads  of  gigantic  mosquitoes, 
attracted  by  the  blaze.  They  were  the  worst  of  their  kind 
I  had  ever  met  with.  We  were  stung  even  through  the 
linen  tunics  and  trousers  we  wore,  and  in  five  minutes  our 
hands  and  faces  were  masses  of  tumefied  bites.  My  left 
eye  was  completely  closed.  The  horses,  too,  suffered  terribly, 
one  of  mine  becoming  altogether  disabled  for  several  days 
afterwards.  We  had  to  retire  a  long  way  from  the  fire 
before  any  peace  could  be  obtained.  I  believe  that  a  serious 
attack  of  these  insects  would  prove  fatal  to  any  ordinary 
animal. 

It  was  past  eleven  at  night  before  the  shrill,  far-reaching 
cries  uttered  by  the  Cossack  escort  met  with  any  response. 
Then  away  across  the  plain  came  similar  sounds  in  reply, 
and  soon  afterwards  we  saw  a  star-like  signal  light,  far,  far 
away.  An  hour's  ride  brought  us  to  it.  It  was  a  large 
lantern  borne  on  the  top  of  a  pole  by  a  mounted  man,  and 
was  visible  for  miles  away  above  the  undulations  of  the 
plain.  We  had  reached  our  halting-place  for  the  night 
— Bouyun  Bache—  a  scattered  camp  of  two  hundred  men 
on  the  borders  of  a  lake-like  expanse  of  water.  This  latter, 
I  was  told,  was  a  rainpool,  but  its  great  sise  and  depth, 
together  with  the  fact  of  its  being  bordered  by  dense 
growths  of  cane  and  bush,  induced  me  to  believe  it  per- 
manent. All  around  are  channels,  some  natural,  others 
probably  irrigation  canals,  and  the  lake  is  probably  only 


A  FOUL  STREAM.       •  117 

for  the  moiSent  insulated,  being,  as  I  believe,  part  of  the 
irregular  system  of  watercourses  by  which  the  Atterek 
reaches  the  sea  across  its  wide  flat  delta  in  the  rainy  season. 
Next  day  we  retraced  our  steps  towards  the  cemetery,  and 
after  a  couple  of  hours'  journey,  always  in  a  south-easterly 
direction,  arrived  at  the  aouU,  or  village,  of  Gouili,  con- 
sisting of  over  four  hundred  kibitka*,  concentrated  in  two 
distinct  groups.  Here  for  the  first  time  I  saw  a  channel 
containing  water  proceeding  from  the  Atterek,  and  actually 
attaining  the  sea  near  the  southern  borders  of  the  Hassan 
Eouli  lagoon.  It  was  impossible  to  say  whether  it  was 
natural  or  artificial,  probably  it  was  the  latter,  for  in 
seasons  of  great  drought  a  stream  of  water  is  turned  and 
returned,  divided  and  subdivided,  for  irrigation  purposes, 
or  to  supply  cattle.  The  small  populations  of  adjacent 
villages  often  quarrel  and  fight  about  the  right  to  turn  a 
stream.  With  the  exception  of  the  shallow  expanse  of 
water  just  mentioned,  this  channel  supplying  the  village 
of  Gouili  was,  at  that  season,  the  most  northerly  vestige  of 
the  Atterek  close  to  the  coast.  The  Turcomans  state  that 
during  the  winter  the  other  dry  beds  crossed  by  us  on  our 
way  from  Tchikislar  were  plentifully  supplied  with  water. 
The  supply  at  the  village  was  scant  and  bad*  The  stream, 
if  I  may  so  designate  such  a  meandering  line  of  foul  water, 
with  no  apparent  current,  had  an  average  width  of  from 
twelve  to  fifteen  feet,  and  was  nowhere  over  knee  deep.  Its 
bed  was  slimy  and  noisome;  for  under  the  first  shallow 
layer  of  marl  was  a  bed  of  blue-black  sandy  earth,  which, 
owing  to  the  frequent  wading  of  camels,  horses,  and  other 
animals,  had  been  stirred  up  and  mingled  with  the  water. 
This  latter  was  also  impregnated  with  decaying  animal  and 
vegetable  products  proceeding  from  the  marshes  higher  up, 
and  smelt  strongly  of  sulphuretted  hydrogen.  Besides,  the 
domestic  animals  of  the  village,  goats,  sheep,  cows,  and 


/ 


u8  A  REMEDY  AGAINST  MOSQUITOES. 

dogs,  stood  or  wallowed  in  the  water  all  day  long;  and 
with  a  strange  disregard  for  hygienic  principles,  the  wash- 
ing of  the  community  was  carried  on  in  it  above  the  village. 
Close  to  the  edge  of  the  channel,  deep  narrow  pits  were 
excavated  in  the  black  ooze,  into  which  filtered  the  water 
for  human  consumption.  Only  the  upper  portions  of  the 
liquid  in  these  receptacles  is  drinkable,  that  lower  down 
being  black  as  ink.  It  seems  odd  that  under  these  circum- 
stances, and  in  view  of  the  vast  marshes  around,  fever 
should  not  be  prevalent.  On  the  contrary,  the  population 
of  both  sexes,  and  of  all  ages,  looked  healthy  and  well 
developed.  Enormous  mosquitoes  abounded  in  immense 
quantities.  After  a  night  spent  in  a  tent  pitched  on  the 
border  of  the  stream,  both  my  eyes  were  almost  completely 
closed,  and  my  face  was  quite  unrecognisable.  The  natives 
protect  themselves  against  these  insects  by  keeping  a  wood 
fire  continually  smouldering  in  the  centre  of  the  kibitka. 
The  air  is  thus  filled  with  acrid  wood  smoke,  which  expels 
the  enemy.  I  have  tried  this  remedy,  but  found  it  as  bad 
as  the  evil  it  was  meant  to  counteract.  It  was  a  question 
of  choosing  between  having  one's  face  and  hands  stung  all 
over  by  the  insects,  and  being  semi-asphyxiated  and  having 
one's  eyes  inflamed  by  the  smoke.  Large  horse-flies,  too, 
abound,  which  inflict  cruel  torture  on  the  larger  quadrupeds. 
I  had  one  of  my  horses  completely  disabled  by  the  multi- 
tude of  inflamed  pustules  resulting  from  the  stings  of  the 
flies.  After  a  miserable  night  at  the  village  of  Gouili,  our 
whole  party  rode  out  into  the  vast  marshes  in  which  at 
this  season  the  Atterek  loses  itself,  only  such  tiny  stream- 
lets as  I  have  described  finding  their  way  to  the  lagoon. 
For  a  couple  of  miles  we  followed  the  winding  course  of  the 
stream,  which  in  some  places  was  deep  and  narrow,  so 
narrow  that  sometimes  it  was  quite  hidden  from  view  by 
the  tftm*rialr  bushes  growing  on  either  bank.    The  thick, 


COSSACK  FISHING— PARTRIDGE  COURSING.      119 

muddy  waters  were  alive  with  fish,  so  crowded  as  to  be 
incapable  of  moving  save  by  floundering  and  jumping  over 
one  another.  They  were  chiefly,  as  is  always  the  case  in 
these  waters,  the  sefid  mahee,  or  large  white  carp.  As  we 
occasionally  crossed  the  stream,  our  horses  trod  them  to 
death  by  scores.  In  less  crowded  nooks  huge  pike  were  to 
be  seen  lurking  under  the  bushes,  but  so  stupefied  by  the 
foul  water  that  the  Cossacks  took  them  in  numbers  by 
striking  them  with  the  point  of  the  sabre,  or  simply  whisk- 
ing  them  out  of  the  water  by  the  tail.  Owing  to  the  con- 
dition of  the  fish,  however,  it  was  deemed  inadvisable  to 
use  them  as  food.  A  coarse  sedge-like  grass  grew  luxu- 
riantly everywhere,  and  here  and  there  were  small  cleared 
spaces  on  which  wretchedly  thin  oats  and  barley,  or  some 
other  such  cereal,  was  cultivated.  There  were  extensive 
tracts  of  cucumbei  and  water  melon  (karpus).  Indeed,  this 
latter  crop  is  the  only  one  worthy  of  mention,  for  the  corn 
and  maize  were  very  limited  indeed.  Here  and  there  were 
raised  platforms,  where  men  kept  continual  watch  over  the 
fields  and  herds ;  for  the  Tekke  and  Goklan  marauders 
very  frequently  swept  away  the  cattle  and  burned  the  corn 
of  their  more  peaceable  Yamud  brethren,  the  banks  of  the  : 
Atterek  constituting  a  direct  and  well-watered  route  to  the  : 
coast  villages.  Everywhere  among  the  straggling  fields ; 
were  to  be  seen  the  tombs  of  the  warriors  who  had  fallen  i 
from  time  to  time  in  such  raids.  A  few  partridges  and 
quails  occasionally  sprang  up  from  among  the  corn  patches. 
These  our  Turcoman  guides  ran  down  on  horseback,  the 
birds  generally  flying  but  fifty  yards,  and  then  taking  to 
the  stubble  and  bushes.  Throughout  the  entire  day's 
exploration  we  did  not  meet  with  a  single  genuine  branch 
of  the  Atterek,  the  few  trenches  of  liquid  mud  we  crossed 
being  irrigation  channels  draining  the  neighbouring 
swamps. 


i2o  ATTEREK  DELTA— BOAR  HUNTING. 

On  the  following  day  we  poshed  our  investigation* 
several  miles  farther  to  the  east,  towards  the  head  of  the 
swampy  delta.  We  crossed  hundreds  of  acres  of  marshy 
ground,  covered  with  bulrushes  which  overtopped  a  horse- 
man's head,  the  horses  sinking  fetlock  deep  in  the  mixture 
of  mud  and  tangled  grass  beneath  our  feet.  Here  and 
there  broad  belts  of  bamboo-like  cane,  growing  from  fifteen 
to  eighteen  feet  high,  and  entirely  impassable,  forced  us  to 
torn  aside.  In  the  midst  of  these  cane  brakes  were  shallow 
pools  crammed  with  fish,  more  than  one-half  of  which  were 
dead  and  putrescent.  The  air  reeked  with  the  effluvia  of 
decomposing  animal  and  vegetable  matter.  Vast  flocks  of 
water-fowl  rose  screaming  from  these  pools  as  we  ap- 
proached. There  were  blue  herons,  swans,  cormorants, 
flamingoes,  frigate-birds,  and  even  eagles  and  hawks 
together.  Occasionally,  too,  a  sudden  plunge  and  crashing 
amid  the  cane  announced  the  presence  of  a  wild  boar,  and 
the  animal  would  break  out  into  the  open  and  dash  across 
the  swamp.  Sometimes  a  pair,  accompanied  by  four  or 
five  half-grown  young,  would  make  their  appearance.  It 
was  difficult  work  galloping  after  them  over  the  marshy 
ground,  where  our  horses  often  sank  knee  deep  in  miry 
spots ;  but  we  generally  brought  them  to  bay  after  a  run  of 
a  mile  or  so,  usually  in  some  water  pool  thickly  fringed 
with  bushes.  Here  they  were  literally  riddled  by  the 
carbine  bullets  of  the  Cossacks  and  Turcomans.  We  suc- 
ceeded in  capturing  alive  two  young  boars.  They  were  well 
grown,  and  their  olive,  dun-coloured  bodies  striped  longi- 
tudinally with  black.  This  striping  disappears  as  the 
ft.ninrtfl.1a  grow  older.  Very  large  numbers  of  these  boars 
are  annually  destroyed  by  the  Turcomans,  to  prevent  their 
ravaging  the  rice,  corn,  and  melon  plantations.  They  are 
never  chased  for  food,  the  inhabitants  being  all  Sunnite 
Mahometans. 


SWAMPY  GROUND— UNCERTAIN  FRONTIER.      lai 

After  having  thoroughly  explored  the  swampy  delta  of 
the  Atterek,  and  compared  my  own  observations  with  those 
of  others,  I  am  convinced  that  during  three-quarters  of  the 
year  nothing  worthy  the  name  of  a  river  comes  within  ten 
miles  of  the  coast,  the  water  being  entirely  absorbed  by 
irrigation  trenches  or  by  the  great  spongy  surface  of  the 
marsh.  This  latter,  to  judge  from  its  condition  during  the 
hottest  months  of  the  year,  must  in  winter  and  spring  be 
inundated  and  entirely  impassable.  Nothing  in  the  shape 
of  a  large  principal  channel  through  the  delta  exists,  and 
very  considerable  engineering  works  would  be  necessary  to 
render  possible  the  passage  of  the  smallest  launch  from  the 
sea.  The  existence  of  this  swamp,  thirty  miles  long  and 
twenty  in  breadth,  gives  rise  to  a  good  deal  of  uncertainty 
about  the  exact  position  of  the  frontier.  Though  the 
Atterek  was  at  the  time  the  real  Busso-Persian  frontier, 
diplomatically  at  least,  the  river  Giurgen,  further  south, 
seemed  to  be  the  practical  boundary,  and  has  been  men- 
tioned by  some  authors  as  the  frontier.  The  Bussian 
authorities,  however,  state  that  they  have  no  claim  what- 
ever on  the  Giurgen.  The  Persian  military  station  nearest 
the  line  of  demarcation  is  the  Fort  of  Ak-Kala,  situated  on 
the  Giurgen  Biver. 

For  some  reason  or  other,  the  question  of  slavery  among 
the  Turcomans,  which  had  from  time  immemorial  remained 
untouched,  was  attracting  considerable  attention.  The 
new  Persian  Governor  of  Asterabad  had  issued  the  strictest 
orders  that  the  Turcoman  tribes  acknowledging  the 
authority  of  the  Shah,  whether  on  Persian  soil  or  residing 
for  the  moment  on  Bussian  territory,  were  instantly  to  give 
up  all  captives  held  by  them  as  slaves.  A  short  time  before, 
in  the  village  of  Tchikislar,  a  curious  case  occurred.  A 
Persian  woman,  of  good  family,  had  been  carried  off  from 
her  home  during  a  predatory  Turcoman  expedition,  and 


133    MATRIMONIAL  RIGHTS— LAZAREFFS  DECISION, 

was  retained  as  a  slave.  Her  parents,  learning  where  she 
was,  came  to  Tchikislar  with  a  view  of  ransoming  her ;  but 
her  owner  refused  to  part  with  her  at  any  price,  stating 
that  she  was  now  his  wife.  The  case  was  referred  to 
General  Lazareff,  who  decided  that,  were  the  woman 
simply  retained  as  a  slave,  she  should  be  at  once  given  up 
without  ransom ;  but  should  it  be  proved  that  she  were 
married  to  the  Turcoman,  she  should  remain  with  her 
husband.  The  lady  herself  intimated  her  desire  to  return 
to  Persia ;  but,  as  her  husband  was  able  to  prove  the  mar- 
riage, she  was  obliged  to  stay  at  Tchikislar.  Upon  this 
decision  she  became  very  violent,  and  physical  force  had  to 
be  appealed  to  to  get  her  out  of  the  General's  tent  and  to 
her  husband's  kibkka. 


INVASION  BY  CASPIAN.  123 


CHAPTER  Vm. 

HASBAN-KOULI — DEATH   OF  LAZABEFF. 

Bassan-Konli  lagoon — Incursions  of  sea-irate]? — Old  piratical  station — Buried 
melons  —  Turcoman  cemetery — Subsidence  of  graves — Ioyunvuskha — 
Courtesy  of  the  desert — Turcoman  character — Battle  tombs — Turco-Celtic 
derivations — Open-air  mosques — An  ex-corsair — Bad  treatment  of  an 
envoy — A  Turcoman  interior — A  native  dinner — Polite  attentions — 
Armenian  fishing-station— Deserted  camel — Thirsty  sheep — Khirgese  and 
Turcomans — Dysentery  at  Tchikislar — LazarefiTs  illness  and  death— A 
burial  at  sea — A  stormy  voyage — General  Tergukasoff— Back  to  Tchikislar 
and  Chatte — BainpooLs  in  the  desert — Failing  camels — Commissariat 
errors — Water-pits. 

Hassan-Eouu  is  a  genuine  Yamud  Turcoman  village  stand- 
ing upon  a  sand-spit  bounding  the  north  of  the  lagoon  of 
the  same  name — the  lagoon  into  which  the  river  Atterek 
falls.  It  is  situated  about  fifteen  versts  from  the  camp  of 
Tchikislar,  and  is  at  present  the  point  where  the  new 
Busso-Persian  frontier  commences. 

The  road  to  Hassan-Eouli  (or  rather  Hassan-Ghouli) 
lies  along  the  flat  sandy  beach  stretching  south  from 
Tchikislar,  and  is  fringed  on  the  land  side  by  low  sand 
hills,  slightly  sprinkled  with  parched  shrubs  and  sedge-like 
grass.  So  level  is  the  beach,  and  so  gradual  the  slope  of 
the  sea  bottom,  that  the  least  gale  of  wind  from  the  west  is 
sufficient  to  drive  the  water  five  hundred  yards  inland,  and 
I  have  known  the  westerly  storm  known  as  the  tenkis  to 
force  the  water  as  much  as  three  miles  over  the  plains.  A 
short  time  previous  to  my  leaving  the  camp  at  Tchikislar  we 
«rere  completely  inundated  by  one  of  these  invasions  of 


124       FORMER  SLA  VE  DEPOT— BURIED  MELONS. 

sea-water,  and  the  cavalry  camp  was  forced  back  several 
hundred  yards.  Southward  of  the  Russian  camp  is  a 
straggling  collection  of  kibitkas,  or  circular  Turcoman  huts, 
the  remnants  of  what  was  once  a  great  piratical  station,  and 
which  served  as  an  emporium  for  the  reception  of  Persians 
captured  on  the  southern  Caspian  coast  previously  to  their 
being  transmitted  to  Khiva  and  Bokhara.  A  few  years 
ago  it  was  bombarded  by  the  Russian  war  steamers; 
since  when  the  place  has  become  one  of  little  importance — 
a  mere  fishing  village— and  just  now  the  main  occupation 
of  the  inhabitants  is  that  of  catering  for  the  Russian  camp. 
A  few  hundred  yards  beyond  its  limits,  the  eye  is  struck  by 
a  series  of  black  objects  sticking  up  from  the  ground  and 
crowning  the  sand  hills.  On  approaching  what  at  a  dis- 
tance might  easily  pass  for  men  mounting  guard,  one  finds 
a  number  of  sticks,  or  leg  bones  of  camels  planted  upright 
in  the  sand,  and  swathed  in  pieces  of  the  rude  brown  felt 
ufied  for  the  roofing  of  kibitkas.  The  Turcomans  explained 
to  me,  in  their  peculiar  Yamud  idiom,  that  something  was 
buried  under  these  effigies,  and  as  at  the  time  I  could  only 
understand  one  out  of  every  three  words  they  uttered,  I  at 
first  came  to  the  conclusion  that  they  were  sepulchral 
monuments,  and  that  the  tract  covered  by  them  was  a 
cemetery.  Later  on  I  discovered  that  the  buried  objects 
were  melons  and  cucumbers,  which  are  placed  in  covered 
trenches,  not  only  to  preserve  them  from  the  crows,  but 
also  to  prevent  the  sun  from  acting  upon  them.  In  a 
Turcoman  house  there  is  little  room  but  for  the  members 
of  the  family  and  their  immediate  household  necessaries. 
Such  a  thing  as  a  storehouse  is  unknown.  Hence  this 
melon  cemetery. 

The  entire  road,  if  road  I  can  call  the  track  along  the 
beach,  is  desolate  in  the  extreme.  During  the  whole  tra- 
ject  I  met  with  no  living  things  save  an  enormous  black 


SEPULCHRAL  MONUMENTS.  125 

eagle,  preying  on  the  fish  stranded  by  the  gale,  and  a  few 
shrill- voiced  seamews.  Within  four  miles  of  the  village  I 
came  upon  the  cemetery,  which  serves  alike  for  Hassan- 
Eouli  and  Tchikislar.  It  is  situated  among  some  sand 
hills  rather  higher  than  those  around.  On  approaching, 
one  is  struck  by  the  appearance  of  a  vast  number  of  poles, 
precisely  similar  to  telegraph  supports.  These  are  the 
ordinary  sepulchral  monuments,  stone  being  entirely  un- 
known in  the  district.  At  the  moment  of  burial  a  couple 
of  linen  bands  or  a  few  morsels  of  cloth  are  attached  to 
the  pole,  and  at  the  time  of  my  visit  many  such  were 
fluttering  in  the  wind.  From  the  frequent  occurrence  of 
fixed  pulleyB  in  the  tops  of  these  poles  I  presume  they  are 
the  masts  of  the  fishing  smacks  of  those  buried,  for  the 
entire  population  of  the  Caspian  borders  is  a  fishing  one. 
There  are  exceptions  to  these  pole  tombs.  In  some  cases 
one  sees  a  free-stone  slab  rudely  sculptured  into  a  resem- 
blance of  a  Turcoman  hat,  and  bearing  a  brief  inscription 
in  Turkish  character.  Instead  of  the  verse  from  the  Koran1 
seen  on  Turkish  and  Persian  tombs,  there  is  simply  the 
name  of  the  deceased  and  the  year  in  which  he  died.  In 
some  instances  the  names  of  the  ancestors  for  three  or  four 
generations  are  written.  I  recollect  one.  'Ali,  son  of 
Hassan,  and  grandson  of  Hussein,  died  1272 '  (Hegira). 
These  stone  tombs  are  brought  from  Persia. 

After  the  poles,  articles  of  household  use  are  the  most 
frequent  memorials.  Earthen  tea-pots  and  large  water 
pitchers  frequently  stand  at  the  head  of  the  grave,  and  in 
many  cases  the  money  or  clothes  box  of  the  defunct  serves 
as  his  monument  in  death.  These  boxes  are  of  the  size  of 
an  ordinary  travelling  portmanteau,  covered  with  thin  brass 
sheetings,  and  strongly  bound  with  iron.  In  the  case  of 
children,  women,  or  very  poor  persons,  the  sole  memento 
is  usually  a  small  circle  of  stones,  or  rather  fragments  of  a 


126     A  FUNERAL  CHAPELr-UNS TABLE  GRAVES. 

friable  conglomerate  of  minute  sea  shells.    At  the  southern 
extremity  of  the  burying-ground  stands  a  small  wooden 
house  with  pointed,  sloping  roof,  surrounded  by  a  shallow 
trench.     Close  by  are  two  poles,  one  very  high,  the  other 
less  tall,  and  bearing  on  its  summit  a  vane  or  weathercock. 
It  is  singular  that  even  here  a  cock  should  be  associated 
with  this  contrivance,  for  on  the  top  of  the  pole  bearing  the 
weather-vane  is  a  rude  representation  of  the  bird.    The 
small  wooden  house,  evidently  constructed  with  the  plank- 
ing of  old  fishing  boats,  is  a  kind  of  funeral  chapel,  where 
the  moullah  recites  some  verses  of  the  Koran  on  the  occa- 
sion of  each  interment.      Sometimes,  too,   a    rich    and 
charitably  disposed  inhabitant  of  the  district  presents  a 
sheep  or  goat  to  be  cut  up  and  distributed  to  the  poor  at 
this  spot.    The  dead  must  be  buried  in  very  large  coffins, 
the  sand  over  many  of  the  graves  having  fallen  in  to  a 
depth  of  three  or  four  feet.     My  attention  was  forcibly 
called  to  this  by  one  incident.    An  officer  of  dragoons  who 
accompanied  me  was  engaged  in  sketching  some  tombs. 
He  was  on  horseback.    All  at  once  I  noticed  his  horse's 
hind  legs  gradually  sinking  in  the  sand,  and  presently  the 
fore-feet  also — and  then,  suddenly,  before  the  rider  had 
time  to  dismount,   there   was   a   crash,   and  horse  and 
man  were  half   hidden  in  a  cloud  of   sand  and  dust. 
The  horse  had  been  standing  on  a  grave.    A  somewhat 
similar  accident  happened  to  myself  once  in  Armenia, 
when,  unconsciously  riding  over  one  of  the  semi-subterra- 
nean dwellings  of  the  inhabitants,  my  horse's  legs  went 
through  the  roof.     There  seems  little  or  nothing  about 
these  tombs  in  common  with  those  of  the  kindred  Tartar 
races  dwelling  west  of  the  Caspian.    Between  Baku  and 
Shumakha  the  Mussulman  inhabitants  invariably  place  at 
the  head  of  the  grave  a  representation  of  a  lance-head 
sculptured  in  stone,  about  eighteen  inches  high.    Half-way 


IOYUNVUSKHA— MUTUAL  SERVICE.  127 

between  the  cemetery  and  Hassan-Kouli  is  a  singular  struc- 
ture, devoted  to  an  equally  singular  usage.  It  is  a  small, 
flat-topped  mound,  twelve  or  fifteen  feet  high,  surmounted 
by  a  pole.  When  a  man  dies  in  battle  he  is  interred,  if 
possible,  on  the  spot  where  he  falls,  and  in  his  clothes.  If 
he  die  of  old  age  or  sickness  he  is  carried  to  the  cemetery, 
and  his  clothes  are  hung  on  the  pole  surmounting  the 
mound  just  mentioned.  Several  times  during  the  year 
his  friends  or  relations  come  to  brush  and  clean  the  gar- 
ments, and  sometimes  bring  presents  of  new  ones.  This 
institution  is  named  Ioyunvuskha. 

Between  the  cemetery  and  the  village  or  town  of  Hassan- 
Kouli  extends  one  vast  desert  plain  of  sand  and  salt. 
Columns  of  sand  borne  by  whirlwinds  dance  to  and  fro, 
and  a  kind  of  sand  fog  fills  the  air,  making  objects  in- 
visible beyond  four  hundred  yards.  This  sand  and  salt 
dust,  filling  the  eyes,  is  excessively  disagreeable.  Arrived 
in  the  midst  of  this  plain  our  guide,  a  Tamud  Turcoman 
in  the  Russian  service,  found  an  object  on  which  to  exercise 
the  courtesy  of  the  desert.  It  was  an  ass  of  moderate 
dimensions,  who  evidently,  from  his  pack-saddle  and  trail- 
ing rope,  had  broken  loose.  The  Turcoman  went  in  pur- 
suit, and  the  runaway  fully  justified  his  character  as  '  a 
strong  wild  ass  of  the  desert,'  for  it  was  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  before  the  long-legged  horse  could  turn  him.  For 
over  three  miles  the  Turcoman  perseveringly  drove  the 
beast  before  him,  ultimately  to  the  owner,  to  whom  he 
handed  him.  When  asked  whether  the  latter  had  given 
him  anything  for  his  trouble,  he  answered,  '  He  said  thank 
you,  that  was  enough ;  another  time,  perhaps,  he  would  do 
as  much  for  me.'  And  yet  this  Turcoman,  with  his  grena- 
dier guard's  hat,  curved  scimitar,  and  slung  rifle,  was  a 
nerson  I  shim/tt.  ceruuniy  eye  mnauiob  **.d  I  meet  him  in 
another  part  of  the  world  in  a  lonesome  locality.    These 


128        TURCOMAN  CHARACTER—BATTLE  TOMBS. 

Turcomans  have  a  strangely  mixed  character.  I  believe 
their  natural  tendencies  to  be  very  good,  and  their  mental 
capacity  of  no  mean  order.  Under  a  fixed  and  firm  rule,  I 
believe  they  would  develop  into  excellent  citizens  and  in- 
valuable soldiers.  As  it  is,  they  show  a  remarkable  capa- 
city for  self-government,  and  obey  their  elected  village 
chiefs  as  regularly  as  French  or  English  constituencies 
concur  in  the  decisions  of  their  Mayors.  Their  predatory 
and  lawless  manners  towards  neighbouring  peoples  are  the 
result  of  unhappy  circumstances,  like  those  which  created 
similar  manners  and  customs  in  the  days  of  our  feudal 
ancestors.  I  speak  now  of  the  Tamud  Turcomans,  and  not 
of  their  neighbours  the  Tekk6. 

Drawing  near  the  village,  we  passed  a  number  of  battle- 
tombs,  melancholy  records  of  the  sad  state  of  affairs  exist- 
ing between  the  different  branches  of  a  common  race.  The 
Tekk6  Turcomans,  who,  according  to  all  accounts,  were  a  set 
of  irreclaimable  scamps,  passed  their  leisure  time  in  making 
raids  on  their  neighbours.  When  victorious,  they  killed  the 
entire  male  adult  population,  and  carried  off  the  women  and 
children  as  slaves.  The  attacked  village  naturally  did  its 
best  to  repel  the  invaders,  every  able-bodied  man  turning 
out  at  once  in  defence  of  life  and  home.  A  curious  dis- 
tinction in  the  system  of  sepulture  of  those  killed  in  battle 
and  those  dying  in  their  beds  existed.  As  I  have  already 
stated,  the  individual  dying  a  natural  death  was  carried  to 
the  cemetery,  and  his  clothes  were  hung  up  on  the  Ioywn- 
vuskha.  But  the  man  who  fell  in  battle  was  buried  in  his 
clothes,  when  possible  on  the  very  spot  where  he  fell.  The 
outskirts  of  the  village  of  Hassan-Eouli  are  full  of  the 
sepulchral  indications  of  violent  death.  The  soldier's  tomb 
consists  of  a  pole  of  some  twenty  feet  in  length,  planted 
vertically  in  the  sand,  its  base  surrounded  by  a  circle  of 
small  stones,  within  which  are  accumulated  a  selection  of 


A  PHILOLOGICAL  QUESTION.  129 

water  jars  and  earthen  tea-pots,  tributes  to  the  memory  of 
the  departed.  Sometimes  a  morsel  of  linen,  or  a  piece  of 
rudely-embroidered  felt,  hangs  standardwise  from  the  pole. 
The  entire  sand  plain  in  front  of  the  village  was  studded 
with  these  battle  records,  some  dating  only  a  few  months 
back.  There  were  no  outskirts  to  the  village.  The  Tekk6 
people  were  too  frequent  visitors  to  allow  of  the  luxury  of 
suburban. residences.  There  is  nothing  known  to  Western 
Europeans  to  which  I  could  compare  a  Turcoman  village, 
save,  perhaps,  those  collections  of  beehives  one  sees  along 
the  Spanish  shore  of  the  Bidassoa.  X  kibitka  is  exactly 
like  an  enormous  beehive,  and  one  is  exactly  like  another. 
They  are  in  reed  and  felt  what  the  '  beehive  houses '  in 
stone  are  in  the  remnants  of  ancient  Celtic  architecture. 
A  propos  of  Turcomans  and  Celts,  there  seems  a  curious  re- 
semblance between  the  name  of  the  individual  from  which 
that  of  the  village  is  taken,  and  a  similar  patronymic  at 
home.  Hassan-Eouli  (Ghouli)  means  '  the  servant  of 
Hassan,'  just  as  Easterns  style  themselves  'servant  of 
God,'  'of  Mohammed,'  or  'of  Ali,'  that  is,  according  to 
some  authorities.  Some  say  the  '  Ghouli '  means  '  a  lake. 
In  Scotland  we  have  the  word  gillie — a  servant;  and  in 
Ireland  the  name  '  Giola  Patrick/  i.e.,  '  the  servant  of  St. 
Patrick.'  I  do  not  know  what  philologists  will  say  to  this. 
My  attention  was  drawn  to  it  by  the  wonderful  resemblance 
of  the  inhabitants  to  those  of  the  west  of  Ireland.  The 
physiognomy  is  the  same,  and  the  military  attitude  and 
humoristic  tendencies  of  both  races  are  strikingly  similar. 
The  independent  clan  organisation  and  the  elective  system 
of  choosing  the  chief  form  other  points  of  resemblance,  and 
the  nomadic  shepherd  life  is  similar  to  that  of  the  early 
inhabitants  of  the  Celtic  districts  of  the  British  Isles. 

Hassan-Eouli,  which  consists  of  eight  or  nine  hundred 
kibitkas,  termed  aladjaks  by  the  nomads  of  the  more  easterly 

vol.  1.  k 


130  KIBITKAS  AND  DJAMIS. 

plains,  is  almost  exclusively  a  fishing  station  inhabited  by 
Turcomans  of  the  Jaffar  Bay  (or  Bey)  tribe.  It  is  estab- 
lished along  the  sand,  raised  but  a  few  inches  above  the 
water  level.  The  slightest  breeze  in  a  certain  direction  is 
sufficient  to  impel  the  shallow  waters  of  the  lagoon  into  the 
very  midst  of  the  village.  The  kibitkas  are  consequently 
established  on  slightly  raised  platforms  of  beaten  earth,  to 
prevent  their  floors  being  inundated,  and  a  few  wooden 
structures,  among  them  that  of  the  chief,  are  built  on 
stout  wooden  piles  three  or  four  feet  high.  In  front  of 
each  dwelling  is  a  raised  platform  eight  or  ten  feet  above 
the  ground,  sometimes  covered  by  a  thatch  awning.  These 
platforms  are  used  for  drying  fish  and  the  skins  of  sea- 
birds,  which  are  largely  exported  to  Persia.  The  djami,  or 
mosque,  is  of  the  most  simple  and  primitive  kind.  It  is  an 
oblong  platform  of  beaten  earth  twenty-five  feet  by  twelve, 
encompassed  by  a  shallow  trench,  and  elevated  some  fifteen 
inches  above  the  surrounding  surface.  On  each  side  a 
broad  plank,  thrown  across  the  ditch,  gives  access  to  the 
platform.  The  muezzim  takes  his  stand  in  some  open  space 
close  by,  and  putting  his  hands  to  each  side  of  his  mouth 
utters  the  long-drawn  call  to  prayer  at  the  appointed 
hours.  I  noticed  several  similar  praying  stations  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  village,  one  being  evidently  quite  inade- 
quate to  accommodate  all  the  inhabitants. .  In  no  Turcoman 
village  did  I  observe  any  covered  structure  devoted  to  reli- 
gious worship.  The  nomad  habits  of  the  people  entirely 
preclude  the  possibility  of  making  use  of  the  domed  and 
minareted  structures  of  more  sedentary  Mussulmans. 
Apart  from  the  catching  and  drying  of  sefid  mahee,  or  the 
white  fish,  the  place  has  no  industry  save  the  manufacture 
of  kibitkas.  This  latter  seems  to  flourish ;  but  whether  its 
products  are  confined  to  renewing  the  local  residences  or 
whether  they  are  manufactured  for  neighbouring  commu- 


AN  EX-CORSAIR.  131 

nities  I  was  unable  to  ascertain.  Previous  to  the  year 
1859,  Hassan-Kouli  was  a  centre  of  piratism.  Moullah 
Dourdi,  the  now  respectable  old  gentleman  and  ex-corsair, 
who,  while  I  was  at  Tchikislar,  was  one  of  the  principal 
local  commissariat  contractors,  hails  from  this  place.  Still 
there  are  remnants  of  the  old  habit  to  which  the  Hassan- 
Eoulians  cling  lovingly ;  and  along  the  wild  unorganised 
Persian  frontier  the  subjects  of  His  Majesty  Nasr  Eddin 
Shah  have  yet  cause  to  fear  the  nomads  of  the  borders. 
Even  after  the  suppression  of  open  piracy  on  the  high  seas, 
raids  on  Persian  coast  villages  and  the  retention  of  the 
principal  inhabitants  for  ransom  continued;  and  unre- 
deemed Persian  captives  of  the  female  sex  are  still  to  be 
found  at  Hassan-Kouli,  though  no  longer,  it  is  true,  as 
mere  captives ;  they  have  become  the  wives  of  Turcomans, 
and  Persian  blood  is  frequently  seen  indicated  by  the  dark 
eyes,  high  arched  brows,  and  feminine  features  of  the 
younger  inhabitants. 

I  have  already  alluded  to  the  case  of  the  Persian  lady, 
held  captive  at  Hassan  Kouli,  whose  place  of  seclusion  was 
discovered,  and  who  was  reclaimed  by  her  relations,  armed 
violence  being  the  result  when  the  Russian  emissary  was 
sent  to  recover  her.  Gases  like  this  are  extremely  rare,  for 
the  female  Persian  captives  have  become  quite  naturalized 
among  the  Turcomans,  and,  for  the  most  part  do  not  wish 
to  leave  their  children  and  newly  adopted  homes.  It  is 
much  to  be  wondered  at  that,  during  the  long  years 
previous  to  the  occupation  of  Ashurad6  Bay  by  the 
Russian  flotilla,  the  Persian  government  took  no  measures 
to  suppress  the  man-stealing  traffic  of  the  Tamuds.  A  very 
insignificant  naval  force  indeed,  on  the  part  of  Russia,  has 
been  found  quite  adequate  to  the  task.  Two  or  three  of  the 
tiniest  steam  gun-boats  launched  from  Enzeli  by  the  Shah, 
coupled  with  the  smallest  organisation  of  police  along  the 

x2 


132  A    TURCOMAN  INTERIOR. 

South  Caspian  littoral,  would  have  effectually  put  an  end  to 
the  traffic.  Nasr  Eddin  Shah,  however  he  may  fret  about 
the  gradual  advance  of  Russia  along  both  eastern  and 
southern  coasts,  must  feel  under  obligations  to  her  for  the 
prompt  manner  in  which  his  subjects  have  been  freed  from 
the  ravages  of  the  Turcoman  pirates.  How  far  this  action 
on  the  part  of  Russia  has  been  completely  disinterested  it 
is  hard  to  say ;  but  it  would  be  most  ungracious  to  take  it 
for  granted  that  humanitarian  motives  were  absent,  and 
that  she  sought  only  a  plausible  excuse  for  converting  the 
Caspian  into  what  it  now  is,  a  Muscovite  lake.  Since  the 
action  of  Lieutenant  Sideroff  in  running  down  the  pirate 
luggers,  and  for  which  he  was  decorated  by  the  Shah,  things 
have  changed  immensely  for  the  better  all  round  the  coast. 
Turcoman  hostility  on  the  Persian  sea-board  may  be  said 

have  totally  ceased,  and,  as  a  consequence,  maritime 
activity  hap  greatly  increased  in  the  small  villages  which 
were  previously  nothing  but  the  fortalices  of  a  few  fisher- 
men. Even  the  most  active  among  the  Turcoman  slave 
dealers  themselves,  like  Moullah  Dourdi,  have  become 
converted  into  commissariat  agents  and  general  merchants. 

The  chief  of  Hassan-Kouli  was  absent— in  fact  he  had 
passed  us  on  the  road  from  Tchikislar ;  but  in  our  capacity 
of  distinguished  foreigners  we  were  conducted  to  his  house. 
It  was  not  a  kibitka,  but  a  square  edifice,  constructed  of  the 
planks  of  used-up  fishing  boats,  oblong  in  form,  with  high 
and  pitched  pointed  roof,  and  set  upon  piles.  A  flight  of 
half-a-dozen  wooden  steps  led  to  the  door.  The  main 
chamber  might  be  about  twenty  feet  by  twelve,  and  was 
lighted  on  two  sides  by  windows  actually  containing  glass.  A 
homespun  carpet  of  sober  but  harmoniously  blended  colours 
covered  the  floor,  and  here  and  there  were  felt  mats.  On 
some  lateral  shelves  were  piles  of  beds  and  cushions,  and 
in  the  windows  a  couple  of  ordinary  paraffin  lamps.     Tea 


A    TALK  OVER  A  KAUOUN— EATING.  133 

was  served,  and  then  the  kcdioun,  a  rudimentary  nargeelah, 
or  hubble-bubble  pipe  in  wood,  was  brought  in,  and  passed 
round.  A  running,  desultory  conversation  was  started,  all 
matters  connected  with  immediate  local  politics  being 
studiously  avoided..  Our  acting  host  was  a  stout,  middle- 
aged  man,  with  beautifully  white  teeth,  and  an  excessively 
humorous  twinkle  in  his  clear  grey  eyes.  He  wore  loose, 
wide  trousers  of  white  calico,  and  a  shirt  of  the  same 
material,  which  hung  open  on  his  chest.  From  his  general 
physiognomy  he  might  have  passed  for  a  stout  Flemish 
burgher,  rather  than  a  citizen  of  Hassan-Kouli,  and  doubt- 
less an  ex-pirate.  My  companion  was  a  Russian.  That 
nationality  he  perfectly  understood.  My  country,  he  had 
heard  of;  but  he  wanted  to  know  where  it  was  situated. 
He  was,  or  appeared  to  be,  perfectly  satisfied  by  the  expla- 
nation that  it  was  very  far  off;  and  then  he  suddenly  asked 
whether  the  Russo-Turkish  war  were  yet  over.  I  am  very 
much  afraid  that  this  child-like  bonhomie  had  but  little  to  do 
with  the  real  character  of  the  man,  and  was  put  on  especially 
for  our  benefit.  Hypocrisy  is  the  pride  of  a  true  Oriental. 
A  dinner  of  boiled  mutton  and  pilaff  (boiled  rice)  mixed 
up  in  a  single  mess,  was  served  in  a  large  deep  dish  of 
tinned  copper,  laid  on  the  floor.  The  entire  company  sat 
round,  and  fished  out  each  a  handful.  Contrary  to  ordinary 
Mussulman  habits  there  was  no  preparatory  washing  of 
hands,  and,  especially  in  the  case  of  our  acting  host,  '  the 
hand  that  mingled  in  the  meal '  might  have  been  more 
scrupulously  clean.  Each  person  boldly  grasped  a  handful 
of  rice,  squeezed  it  into  a  ball  in  the  palm  of  his  hand,  and 
then  clapped  it  into  his  mouth  by  a  movement  similar  to 
that  of  a  conjuror  swallowing  a  table  knife.  Our  host,  who 
seemed  to  have  taken  an  especial  liking  to  me,  frdm  time 
to  time  scraped  pieces  of  mutton  off  the  bones  with  his 
dirty  thumb-nail,  and  threw  them  into  my  part  of  the 


134  TEA  AND  SIESTA. 

dish,  expressing  his  wonder  at  my  small  appetite  for  animal 
food.  After  dinner  there  was  no  more  washing  than  before 
it.  The  guests  stuck  their  fingers  one  after  the  other  into 
their  mouths,  thus  removing  the  excess  of  rice  and  grease 
adhering  to  them.  The  meal  concluded,  tea  was  served 
again;  that  all-pervading  institution,  the  samovar,  being 
again  brought  in.  As  is  usual  all  over  this  part  of  the 
East,  the  tea  was  served  in  porcelain  bowls  or  glass  tumblers. 
It  is  drunk  in  prodigious  quantities,  very  weak,  over- 
sweetened,  and  without  milk  or  cream.  In  fact,  this  latter 
is  entirely  unknown  as  an  adjunct  in  all  true  tea-drinking 
countries.  My  attentive  host,  noticing  that  half-a-dozen 
flies  were  swimming  in  my  tea,  immediately  plunged  two 
of  his  great  unwashed  fingers  up  to  the  knuckles  into  my 
glass  to  fish  out  the  intruders,  and  on  each  similar  and  oft- 
repeated  bath  on  the  part  of  the  insects  it  was  only  my 
own  prompt  action  that  prevented  a  repetition  of  the  atten- 
tion. On  his  part  it  was  meant  in  the  kindliest  possible 
spirit,  and  the  act  was  one  of  genuine  politeness.  He 
would  have  seen  all  the  flies  under  the  dominion  of  their 
ruler  Beelzebub  in  his  compatriots'  glass  before  he  would 
have  taken  the  same  trouble.  Here  the  invariable  sequel  to 
a  meal  is  a  sleep.  Large,  soft  cushions  were  brought,  and, 
lying  on  the  carpet,  we  were  soon  buried  in  slumber,  over- 
come by  the  intense  heat.  It  was  three  in  the  afternoon 
when  we  took  leave  of  our  acting  host  and  turned  our 
horses '  heads  towards  Tchikislar.  Far  out  in  the  shallow 
lagoon,  a  couple  of  miles  from  land,  we  noticed  wooden 
houses— fishing  stations,  the  property,  if  I  do  not  mistake, 
of  a  rich  Armenian  merchant,  who  also  possessed  a  vast 
establishment  of  a  similar  kind  in  the  inland  waters  of  the 
Moredab  at  Enzeli  on  Persian  territory,  and  for  which  he 
paid  an  annual  fee  of  40,000Z.  to  the  Shah. 

Our  way  back  lay  through  the  cemetery  and  sand  hills 


DISABLED  CAMELS— THIRSTY  SHEEP.  135 

again.  A  convoy  of  camels,  returning  from  Chatte,  had 
passed  since  the  morning,  and,  as  usual,  in  their  track 
was  a  disabled  camel,  crouched  kneelingly  on  the  frirning 
sand.  He  was  munching  wearily  some  withered  shrubs, 
and  from  time  to  time  swung  his  great,  long,  gaunt  neck 
around,  to  chase  the  myriad  flies  that  settled  on  the  large  bare 
sore  on  his  side.  Only  the  stump  of  his  tail  remained.  The 
rest  had,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  Khirgese  drivers, 
been  cut  off  as  evidence  that  he  had  been  abandoned  in  the 
desert.  The  poor  beast  was  lying  close  by  a  well,  whose 
mouth  was  protected  from  the  drifting  sands  by  a  bottom- 
less tub,  and  he  gazed  wistfully  at  the  water  beyond  his 
reach.  Bound  the  well  were  some  cracked  earthen  bowls, 
beside  which  a  few  diminutive  brown,  horned  sheep  were 
waiting  the  chance  of  a  passing  traveller  who,  when  water- 
ing his  horse,  might  afford  them  the  opportunity  of  drink- 
ing. They  crowded  imploringly  around  us,  standing  on 
their  hind  legs,  and  endeavouring  to  reach  at  the  cracked 
earthen  vessels  from  which  we  were  drinking,  and  into 
which  we  had  poured  the  contents  of  the  nosebags  of  water 
fished  up  by  our  linked  horse  tethers.  It  was  pitiable  to 
see  the  number  of  these  disabled  camels  that  one  was 
accustomed  to  meet  in  a  day's  ride.  A  Khirgese  would 
archly  explain  the  matter  by  saying  that  these  abandoned 
camels  '  belonged  to  his  Imperial  Majesty ' — that  is,  had 
been  hired  for  the  Government  service,  and  become  dis- 
abled, thus  entitling  the  proprietors  to  a  compensation  of 
one  hundred  roubles  for  each.  The  said  proprietors  pre- 
ferred maltreating  a  weak  animal  and  then  abandoning  him, 
the  money  they  received  more  than  recompensing  them  for 
the  loss.  I  have  already  mentioned  that  condign  punish- 
ment was  meted  out  to  half-a-dozen  of  these  blackguards  for 
having  thus  cut  off  the  tails  of  sixty  camels  which  they 
abandoned  on  the  road  from  Erasnavodsk  to  Tchikislar. 


136  LAZAREFFS  ILLNESS. 

These  Khirgese  seem  to  me  a  race  far  inferior,  morally  and 
physically,  to  their  more  southerly  brethren  of  the  steppes, 
the  Turcomans.  It  is  a  curious  fact,  too,  that  there  exists 
a  wide  difference  in  the  horses  of  these  nomad  races. 
Those  of  the  Khirgese  are  short-legged,  shaggy,  and  fat ; 
those  of  the  Turcomans  tall,  gaunt,  and  wiry. 

When  the  charm  of  novelty  wore  off,  time  hung  heavily 
on  our  hands  in  the  camp  at  Tchikislar.  Notwithstanding 
all  precautions,  I  fell  a  victim  to  the  prevailing  malady, 
which  was  carrying  off  soldiers  by  the  score.  I  allude  to 
that  curse  of  ill-regulated  camps,  dysentery.  It  is  a  disease 
which  prostrates  one  almost  immediately.  Simultaneously 
the  Commander-in-Chief  had  a  virulent  attack  of  carbuncles, 
between  his  shoulders  and  on  his  breast  and  stomach. 
Only  a  short  time  previously  the  plague  had  been  raging 
at  Astrakan,  and  there  were  those  who  said  that  the  General 
had  incautiously  purchased  a  rug  which  was  tainted  with 
the  infection.  Be  this  as  it  may,  he  was  obliged  to  keep 
his  bed,  just  as  the  critical  moment  had  arrived — the 
moment  for  the  advance  into  the  Akhal  Tekke  country. 
Prince  Dolgorouki,  commanding  the  advance  guard,  had  al- 
ready been  for  some  time  to  the  front.  Prince  Wittgenstein 
marched  with  his  cavalry,  and  had  invited  me  to  accompany 
him,  but  as  I  tried  to  drag  myself  from  my  bed  to  dress  I 
fell  prostrate  on  the  floor  through  sheer  weakness.  Anyone 
who  has  suffered  from  the  same  malady  will  readily  re- 
cognise the  situation.  General  Lazareff  sent  an  aide-de- 
camp daily  to  enquire  after  me,  and  I  returned  the  courtesy 
by  despatching  my  servant  to  ask  how  the  Commander-in- 
Chief  progressed.  Some  of  the  people  in  the  camp  said  it 
was  a  race  between  us  as  to  which  should  die  first.  The 
supreme  moment  having  come,  the  General  was  lifted  from 
his  bed  into  a  four-horse  vehicle,  which  was  intended  to 
carry  him  to  the  front.     He  reached  Chatte,  at  the  junc- 


LAZAREFFS  DEATH— ORDERED  TO  BAKU.      137 

tion  of  the  Atterek  and  Sumbar  rivers,  where  the  carbuncles 
were  operated  upon  by  the  chief  surgeon  of  the  army.  The 
General  insisted  upon  pushing  forward  at  four  in  the 
morning,  but  before  he  reached  the  next  station  he  was 
dead. 

The  doctors  had  told  me  that  to  remain  at  Tchikislar 
was  to  incur  a  more  than  serious  risk  of  death,  and  from 
what  I  knew  of  military  operations  I  was  aware  that  before 
definite  hostilities  commenced  I  should  have  time  to  recruit 
my  strength  in  a  healthier  atmosphere,  and  amid  happier 
surroundings.  On  August  22  I  staggered  from  my  bed, 
and  was  supported  to  the  pier,  where  a  man-of-war's  boat 
was  waiting  to  take  me  on  board  the  *  Ural '  war  steamer. 
I  went  as  the  guest  of  Lieutenant  Ungern-  Sternberg,  the 
second  in  command  on  board,  to  whose  unremitting  kind- 
ness I  am  glad  to  have  an  opportunity  of  now  bearing 
witness.  He  died  shortly  afterwards.  The  storms  so 
prevalent  on  the  Caspian  at  that  time  of  the  year  doubled 
the  ordinary  period  of  transit  to  Baku,  and  we  were  almost 
overtaken  by  the  '  Tamar,'  screw  steamer,  conveying  the 
remains  of  my  poor  old  friend,  General  Lazareff. 

During  my  voyage  from  Tchikislar  to  Baku  on  board 
the  '  Ural,'  which  was  crowded  with  barely  convalescent 
patients  from  the  camp,  most  of  them,  if  not  all,  suffering 
from  dysentery,  I  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  a  burial 
at  sea.  An  infirmary  sergeant,  ill  with  the  prevailing 
disease,  had  postponed  his  departure  to  the  last  moment, 
and  died  after  the  first  twenty-four  hours  at  sea,  probably 
in  consequence  of  the  exhaustion  incident  to  sea-sickness 
acting  upon  an  utterly  debilitated  frame.  His  body,  sewn 
in  a  hammock,  lay  beside  the  gunwale,  partly  covered  by 
the  Bed  Gross  Geneva  flag.  Close  by  the  head  of  the 
corpse  was  a  lectern,  on  which  lay  a  Bussian  missal.  One 
by  one  the  comrades  of  the  deceased  approached  the  lectern, 


138  A  FUNERAL  AT  SEA. 

and  read  over  in  silence  some  passages  or  prayers  devoted 
to  the  memory  of  the  dead.  Lieutenant  Woltchakoff,  an 
officer  of  the  war  steamer,  was  among  those  who  read 
longest  and  most  earnestly  to  -the  memory  of  his  departed 
comrade-in-arms.  In  the  afternoon  all  the  officers  of  the 
ship  appeared  in  fall  uniform.  The  great  bulk  of  the 
invalids,  soldiers  from  the  interior  of  Bussia,  many  of  whom 
had  seldom  seen  any  expanse  of  water  larger  than  a  river 
or  a  lake;  were  horrified  when  they  understood  that  their 
dead  companion  was  about  to  be  committed  to  the  waves. 
They  grumbled,  and  said  it  was  scarcely  worth  their  while 
to  run  so  many  risks  and  suffer  such  great  privations,  to 
be  treated  in  such  a  fashion  when  they  died.  As  the  final 
hour  approached,  the  small  sacred  picture  which  garnishes 
the  cabin  of  every  Bussian  vessel  was  brought  on  deck. 
The  body  was  elevated  on  the  shoulders  of  four  seamen, 
and  a  procession,  with  lighted  candles,  was  formed,  the 
boatswain,  bearing  the  holy  picture,  leading.  The  entire 
circuit  of  the  deck  was  made.  The  corpse  was  then  de- 
posited alongside  the  opening  of  the  bulwarks,  some  iron 
weights  were  attached  to  the  feet,  the  Geneva  flag  was  run 
up  to  the  peak,  and  a  twelve-pounder  gun,  ready  charged, 
was  run  out  close  by.  The  whole  ship's  company  uncovered. 
The  body  was  slipped  along  a  plank,  and  as  it  sank  beneath 
the  waters  the  gun  boomed  out  a  farewell  to  one  of  the 
many  victims  of  the  Akhal  Tekke  expedition.  The  grum- 
blers at  once  took  heart.  Those  who  had  felt  so  irritated 
at  the  prospect  of  being  thrown  overboard  like  dead  dogs 
when  they  died,  now  thought  how  fine  a  thing  it  was  for 
officers  in  full  dress  to  stand  by  bareheaded  while  a  cannon 
was  discharged  in  honour  of  their  deceased  companion — a 
greater  honour  than  any  of  them  could  hope  for  in  life. 
Immediately  after  the  interment  a  violent  storm  arose,  the 
engines,  working  full  speed,  barely  enabling  the  '  Ural '  to 


GENERALS   TERGUKASOFF  AND  G0URCH1NE.   139 

hold  her  own  against  the  furious  winds  from  the  west. 
We  were  kept  two  days  thus  stationary,  and  were  then 
obliged  to  run  towards  Krasnavodsk  and  anchor  under 
shelter  of  the  island  of  Ogurchen  until  the  storm  abated. 
Then,  haying  run  short  of  astatki  fuel,  we  were  obliged  to 
go  to  Krasnavodsk  to  take  some  in.  Thence  we  went 
straight  across  to  Baku,  which  we  made  at  7.30  on  the 
morning  of  August  29.  Two  days  afterwards  the  body  of - 
Lazareff  arrived  on  board  the  '  Tamar,'  enclosed  in  a  rough 
coffin  of  blackened  deal.  A  day  was  occupied  in  the  em- 
balming, and  it  was  then  carried  in  procession  to  the 
Gregorian  Church  in  the  great  square,  borne  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  deceased  veteran's  compatriots.  His 
decorations,  each  one  borne  upon  a  cushion  by  an  officer, 
were  carried  in  front.  There  was  no  military  music,  but 
priests  and  acolytes  chanted.  From  the  chapel  the  body 
was  conveyed  direct  to  Tiflis,  where  it  was  interred  with 
military  honours. 

On  September  17,  General  Tergukasoff,  the  new 
Commander-in-Chief  of  the  expedition,  together  with 
General  Gourchine,  arrived  at  Baku ;  and  on  the  20th  I 
accompanied  them  to  Tchikislar.  Almost  immediately  on 
landing  the  Generals  repaired  to  Chatte,  and  thence  to  the 
extreme  advance  at  Bendessen,  among  the  Kopet-Dagh 
mountains,  in  order  to  ascertain  how  matters  stood  after 
the  repulse  of  the  troops  from  before  Tengi  Sheher.  Tergu- 
kasoff would  not  afford  me  any  facilities  for  accompanying 
him,  and  as,  without  relays  of  horses,  I  could  not  pretend  to 
keep  up  with  his  party,  I  was  obliged  to  go  towards  the 
front  with  a  battalion  which  was  escorting  some  baggage 
waggons  to  Chatte.  The  march  occupied  seven  days,  and 
as  I  have  already  given  the  diary,  describing  the  bed  of  the 
Atterek,  which  I  kept  on  the  occasion,  I  need  not  now 
recur  to  it.     I  was  not  allowed  to  proceed  any  further  than 


140  SENT  TO  TCHIKISLAR— ABANDONED  CAMELS. 

Chatte,  and,  after  a  stay  of  three  days  there,  it  was  inti- 
mated to  me  by  the  Chief  of  Staff,  on  the  part  of  General 
Tergukasoff,  who  had  just  arrived  from  Dusolum,  that  I  was 
desired  to  return  to  Tchikislar,  in  company  with  two 
battalions  which  were  about  to  retire  upon  the  same  place. 
Operations  were  at  an  end  for  the  winter,  and  nothing  of 
any  interest  would  transpire  for  some  months.  I  therefore 
packed  up,  and  started  on  my  return  journey.  The  two 
battalions,  unencumbered  by  waggons,  took  the  direct  road 
by  Karaja-Batur,  where  water-pits  had  been  constructed  for 
the  accommodation  of  the  troops.  We  arrived  in  Tchikislar 
after  a  march  of  four  days  and  a  half.  Bain  had  been  fall- 
ing plentifully,  and  great  pools  of  water  were  met  with  from 
time  to  time,  along  the  borders  and  over  the  surfaces  of 
which  immense  numbers  of  waterfowl  were  to  be  seen.  In 
some  of  the  more  accidented  ground,  a  tender  young  grass 
imparted  an  emerald  tint  to  the  spot,  though  it  was  of  such 
a  very  slight  and  sparse  nature  indeed  as  to  be  practically 
useless  for  grazing  purposes.  Still,  it  shows  what  the  so- 
called  desert  could  become  under  happier  circumstances, 
and  with  a  constant  water  supply. 

The  entire  route  from  Chatte  to  Tchikislar  was  strewn 
with  camel  and  mule  bones,  and  I  several  times  witnessed 
the  exhausted  condition  of  the  camels  who  had  come  from  the 
front.  Scarcely  a  day's  march  was  ever  got  through  with- 
out half  a  dozen  falling  from  weakness,  and  being  obliged 
to  be  abandoned.  The  camel  will  continue  to  stalk  along 
under  his  burden  in  the  string  to  which  he  belongs,  showing 
no  apparent  signs  of  exhaustion,  and  will  suddenly  fall  as  if 
shot  through  the  head.  In  the  greater  number  of  cases  in 
which  a  camel  thus  falls,  he  dies  in  a  few  hours,  on  the 
same  spot ;  in  some  instances,  however,  he  recovers  slowly, 
regains  his  legs,  and  is  able  to  graze.  Such  a  camel,  how- 
ever, is  altogether  useless  afterwards,  and  abandoned  camels 


TROOPS  SENT  HOME— NEW  WATER  PITS.      141 

are  constantly  to  be  met  with,  straying  at  will  over  the 
desert. 

I  found  that  many  battalions  had  been  sent  back  from 
Tchikislar  to  Baku  and  Petrovsk,  and  that  it  was  intended 
that  a  limited  number  should  remain  in  the  camp.  General 
Tergukasoff  had  evidently  made  up  his  mind  to  avoid  the 
very  serious  error  committed  by  his  predecessor.  Lazareff 
had  brought  his  entire  force  to  Tchikislar,  and  had  then 
endeavoured  to  accumulate  the  reserve  of  provisions  which 
was  indispensable  before  commencing  active  operations.  It 
was  much  more  expensive  east  of  the  Caspian  to  feed  the 
soldiers  than  if  they  had  remained  on  its  western  shore. 
The  place  was  much  more  unhealthy,  and  the  amount  daily 
consumed  by  the  troops  left  but  a  small  margin  to  spare  of 
the  provisions  which  were  constantly  being  disembarked  at 
the  camp.  Some  sanitary  measures  were  also  adopted  by 
the  new  generalissimo,  great  attention  being  paid  to  the 
construction  of  new  water-pits.  These  were  some  eight  to 
ten  feet  in  depth,  and  the  same  in  width  at  top.  After  a 
few  hours  some  bucketsful  of  water  collected  in  the  bottoms, 
but  it  was  at  best  of  a  brackish  kind,  and  in  a  day  or  so 
became  quite  undrinkable  owing  to  the  concentration  of 
saline  matter  due  to  evaporation  by  the  sun's  heat.  Insect 
deposits  and  vegetable  growths  also  helped  to  render  the 
water  unfit  for  consumption,  so  that  it  was  necessary  to  be 
continually  constructing  new  water-pits.  The  entire  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  camp,  far  and  near,  was  honeycombed  with 
these  holes.  General  Lazareff  had  entertained  an  idea  of 
digging  a  small  canal  from  the  Atterekto  the  camp,  and,  bad 
though  the  water  of  that  river  is,  such  a  supply  would  have 
been  an  inestimable  boon. 

The  time  was  fast  approaching  when  I  should  once  more 
turn  my  back  on  Tchikislar.  Time  passed  drearily  enough  ; 
for  when  once  the  denizens  of  the  camp  had  settled  down  to 


142  CAMP  SCENES. 

the  routine  of  every-day  work,  and  we  had  organised  our 
separate  m&nages,  there  was  a  sad  lack  of  excitement  and 
novelty.  All  day  long  an  ant-like  procession  of  soldiers 
streamed  from  the  pier  to  the  depots,  each  man  bearing  on 
his  back  sacks  of  corn  which  the  Turcoman  launches  had 
landed  from  the  transport  ships.  It  was  but  a  short  time 
before  my  departure  that  the  tramway  along  the  recon- 
structed pier,  and  reaching  to  the  back  of  the  camp,  was  in 
working  order.  As  the  sun  went  down  the  wailing  chant  of 
the  evening  prayer,  accompanied  by  bugles  and  drums,  broke 
the  general  stillness  that  accompanied  the  parade.  When 
darkness  settled  over  the  camp,  ombres  chinoises  flitted  on 
the  canvas  walls  of  the  lighted  tents ;  and  from  far  and 
near  came  the  confused  beating  of  drums  and  clashing  of 
cymbals,  keeping  time  to  the  melancholy  dirge  of  the 
soldiers'  choruses,  for  all  their  songs  seem  essentially  sad. 
Then,  as  midnight  drew  near,  nought  was  heard  save  the  low 
surging  and  fretting  of  the  Caspian  surf,  and  the  shriek  of 
the  owl  and  the  night-hawk  in  answer  to  the  plaintive  cry 
of  the  prowling  jackals. 


COLONEL  MALAMA.  143 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FEOM  TCHIKI8LAB  TO  ASTERABAD. 

Banished  from  Tchikislar—  Colonel  Shelkovnikoff—  Starting  for  the  Atterek— 
A  night  at  Hassan-Kouli — Turcoman  lady — Her  costume— Primitive 
flour-mills — Ovens — Sulphide  of  iron  small-shot — Sea-birds — Crossing  the 
Atterek  mouth — Sleighing  on  a  mud  bank — Across  country — Nomad 
shepherds — Goklan  Tepessi — A  dervish  moullah — An  ttsfa-adam — Bird's- 
eye  view  of  delta— Burnt  reed-fields —Tame  and  wild  ducks— The  Kizil- 
Alan  —  Pin-tailed  grouse  —  Ak-Kala  —  Altoun-tokmok  —  An  adventure 
with  village  dogs — Crossing  the  Giurgen — Ata-bai—  Village  of  Kergis- 
tepe — Pomegranate  jungle — Kara-Su  —Arrival  at  Asterabad — Shah  Abass' 
causeway — Mr.  Churchill. 

A  fortnight  after  my  arrival  from  Chatte,  Colonel  Malama, 
the  Chief  of  Staff,  intimated  to  me  that  all  operations  for  the 
winter  were  at  an  end,  and  that  I  would  feel  myself  much 
more  comfortable  at  Baku  during  the  dreary  Caspian  winter 
than  amidst  the  camp,  which  he  told  me  would  be  semi- 
deserted  during  that  season.  At  the  moment  I  had  not 
quite  made  up  my  mind  as  to  what  course  I  should  adopt, 
so  I  simply  bowed  in  reply.  '  When  will  you  go  ? '  said 
the  Chief  of  Staff.  '  Well,  Colonel/  I  replied,  '  you  know 
I  have  horses  which  I  must  dispose  of;  they  axe  scarcely 
worth  carrying  across  the  Caspian ;  I  don't  want  them  at 
Baku,  and  I  should  like  time  to  dispose  of  them/  With 
this  diplomatic  answer  our  interview  terminated.  Though  I 
had  not  decided  as  to  what  I  should  do,  my  predominant 
idea  was  that  I  should  remain  upon  the  ground  until  the 
reopening  of  the  campaign  in  the  spring,  as  I  should  then 
be  better  acquainted  with  the  preliminary  operations ;  and 


144         *  REMINDER  FROM  SHELKOVNIKOFF. 

besides,  I  was  not  in  love  with  the  wild,  dissipated  life 
which  an  unoccupied  person  is  almost  forced,  despite  him- 
self, to  lead  in  the  '  OD  City  of  the  East.'  I  hoped  that  when 
the  staff  had  left  the  camp  at  Tchikislar,  if,  indeed,  such 
were  their  intention,  I  should  be  overlooked  and  allowed 
to  remain  behind.  During  a  week  I  led  an  exceedingly 
dreary  existence  in  my  tent  of  more  than  circumscribed 
dimensions,  trying  to  sleep  when  unoccupied  with  my  notes 
and  journal  trying  to  sleep,  I  say,  because  whether  by 
night  or  by  day  it  was  not  easy  to  find*  a  moment's  repose. 
At  night,  red  mosquitoes  filled  the  tent,  and  during  the  day, 
especially  the  mid-day,  the  ordinary  black  fly  rendered  sleep 
impossible.  Whether  in  winter  or  in  summer,  these  pests 
of  this  region  never  left  the  vicinity  of  a  camp  whose  ill- 
ordered  hygienic  arrangements  too  plentifully  supplied  them 
and  their  offspring  with  the  means  of  existence.  At  the 
end  of  the.  week,  as  one  day  towards  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  I  lay  upon  the  carpet  which  separated  me  from 
the  moist  sand,  trying  to  forget  the  restless  hours  of  the 
night,  a  Cossack  entered  my  tent,  and,  shaking  me  by  the 
shoulder,  told  me  that  Colonel  Shelkovnikoff,  an  officer  of 
Armenian  extraction,  then  occupying  the  post  of  com- 
mandant of  the  camp,  desired  to  speak  with  me  immediately. 
I  rose  to  receive  the  Colonel,  who  said,  rather  abruptly,  '  I 
think  Colonel  Malama  intimated  to  you  that  it  would  be 
better  did  you  pass  the  winter  at  Baku,  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Caspian.'  '  It  is  true,'  I  replied,  '  but  I  have  not 
yet  been  able  to  dispose  of  my  horses.'  •  Well,'  rejoined 
he,  '  horses  disposed  of  or  not,  the  orders  of  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief are  that  you  quit  the  camp  for  Baku  by 
the  steamer  which  leaves  at  seven  o'clock  this  evening.'  At 
this  I  grew  indignant.  '  Colonel,'  said  I,  '  I  admit  that  the 
Commander-in-Chief  (General  Tergukasoff,  also  an  Arme- 
nian, and  since  deceased)  '  has  a  perfect  right  to  order  me 


A  SURREPTITIOUS  DEPARTURE.  145 

to  quit  his  camp,  or  even  Russian  territory,  but  I  deny  his 
right  to  dictate  to  me  the  route  which  I  shall  take  in  so 
doing.  I  will  proceed  at  once  to  the  frontier,  and  thence 
to  Asterabad,  the  nearest  point  at  which  a  British  Consu- 
late is  to  be  found.'  With  this  we  parted.  I  waited  uutil 
the  hour  fixed  for  my  departure  was  approaching,  and  then 
ordered  my  tent  to  be  struck  and  my  horses  saddled.  A 
heavy  downpour  of  rain  was  falling,  and  stormy  gusts  were 
sweeping  from  the  landward.  I  sent  my  horses  outside  the 
camp,  and  followed  them,  lest  notice  should  be  taken  of 
me,  as  would  probably  have  been  the  case  had  I  left 
mounted,  and  with  baggage  in  marching  order.  Outside 
the  guarded  limits,  I  and  my  servant  rode  swiftly  away  in 
the  direction  of  the  Atterek  Biver,  the  line  beyond  which 
Bussia  claimed  no  jurisdiction.  I  directed  my  steps  to- 
wards Hassan-Eouli,  the  Turcoman  village  which  I  have 
already  described.  Towards  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  on 
November  10,  1879,  after  wading  across  many  a  rain-filled 
channel  and  muddy  expanse,  I  reached  Hassan-Eouli.  In 
this  place  the  chief  was  a  certain  Moullah  Nourri.  I  asked 
my  way  to  his  kitritka,  and  was  hospitably  received,  especially 
as  I  was  believed  to  be  a  person  who  was  well  able  and 
willing  to  make  an  adequate  '  present '  when  leaving.  Up 
to  this  moment  it  had  not  been  decided  whether  this  Turco- 
man village  was  or  was  not  within  Bussian  jurisdiction, 
inasmuch  as  a  branch  of  the  river  Atterek  flowing  across 
its  delta  once  ran  between  it  and  the  camp  at  Tchikislar. 
In  the  hurry  of  my  departure  I  had  forgotten  to  ask  Colonel 
Malama  for  a  passport  declaring  who  I  was  and  recom- 
mending me  to  the  Persian  authorities.  However,  halting 
for  the  night  at  the  village,  I  gave  instructions  to  my 
servant  to  ride  off  early  in  the  morning  to  the  Bussian 
camp,  and  ask  for  the  necessary  document.  Meantime,  I 
had  my  first  opportunity  of  seeing  domestic  Turcoman  life. 

VOL.   I.  L 


146  A   TURCOMAN  MATRON. 

In  these  regions  the  entire  family,  male  and  female,  dwell 
tinder  the  one  roof,  which  covers  but  a  single  circular  apart- 
ment, not  more  than  fifteen  feet  in  diameter.  As  I  entered, 
they  told  me  that  I  was  khosh  geldi  (welcome),  and  I  took 
my  seat  on  a  carpet  beside  the  fire  burning  in  the  centre  of 
the  habitation.  It  was  mainly  composed  of  fragments  and 
spars  of  fishing  boats,  and  the  smoke  found  exit  by  the 
customary  circular  opening  in  the  roof,  some  six  feet  in  dia- 
meter, and  barred  by  radial  spokes  like  those  of  a  cart-wheel 
A  stately,  rather  solid-looking  matron  of  some  forty  years, 
entirely  unveiled,  sat  beside  the  fire.  Near  her  was  a 
colossal  samovar,  or  tea-urn — a  Russian  institution  which 
seems  to  have  penetrated  to  the  uttermost  depths  of  Central 
Asia.  Some  young  girls,  her  daughters,  seated  on  either 
side,  were  busy  grinding  flour  in  a  primitive  horizontal 
hand-mill,  kneading  dough  for  the  evening  bread,  or  carding 
wool  for  the  manufacture  of  carpets  and  the  rude  water- 
proof mantles  worn  by  the  Turcomans.  The  elder  lady  was 
clad  in  a  shirt  of  coarse  silk,  of  a  dark  purple  colour,  striped 
with  black,  and  falling  nearly  to  the  ankles.  This,  except- 
ing the  close-fitting  trousers  of  a  darker  tint,  and  drawn 
tightly  round  the  ankles,  was  the  only  garment  worn  by 
her.  Around  her  head  was  twisted  a  handkerchief  of  bright 
crimson  silk,  turban-wise,  one  extremity  falling  upon  the 
left  shoulder.  On  her  neck  was  a  massive  silver  ornament, 
resembling  more  the  collar  of  a  Newfoundland  dog  than 
any  other  object  to  which  I  can  compare  it,  being  at  least 
an  inch  and  a  half  in  depth,  and  a  third  of  an  inch  in 
thickness.  At  intervals  round  it  were  set  flat  oval  cornelians, 
alternating  with  lozenge-shaped  panels  of  embossed  gold. 
From  its  front  hung  at  least  twenty  silver  chains,  falling 
over  the  breast,  and  broken  half-way  down  by  lozenge- 
shaped  pieces  of  silver,  also  embossed  with  gold,  and  sup- 
porting a  cylinder  of  silver  hanging  below  the  level  of  the 


FEMALE  ORNAMENTS.  147 

waist,  and  containing  talismanic  writings,  to  preserve  her 
from  the  Gins  and  other  evil  spirits  which  are  supposed  to 
haunt  these  Central  Asian  wildernesses.  On  either  breast 
hung  medal-wise  a  quantity  of  pieces  of  silver  money,  Bue- 
sian  five-rouble  and  Persian  five-kran  coins,  so  numerous 
that  they  presented  the  appearance  of  a  cuirasse  of  silver. 
On  either  shoulder  was  a  flat  cylindrical  silver  box,  about 
four  inches  in  diameter,  in  the  centre  of  each  of  which 
was  also  set  a  flat  cornelian.  Her  long,  coarse  hair, 
plaited  into  two  tails,  which  reached  below  the  small  of 
her  back,  was  also  profusely  decorated  with  silver  coins, 
growing  larger  towards  the  extremity  of  the  plaited  hair 
tail.  On  her  wrists  were  massive  silver  bracelets — so 
massive,  and  apparently  so  heavy,  that  one  could  not  but 
imagine  that  they  must  seriously  interfere  with  the  move- 
ments of  her  arms.  They,  too,  bore  the  usual  lozenge- 
shaped  gold  panels  and  flat  cornelians.  Turcoman  women 
seem  always  to  be  in  full  dress,  and  I  have  rarely  seen 
them,  even  when  employed  in  laborious  occupations,  with- 
out it.  A  ponderous  paraphernalia  is  a  concomitant  of 
respectability,  as  it  is  understood  in  these  parts.  The 
younger  females  were  similarly,  but  less  profusely  and 
massively  decorated.  In  fact,  as  I  afterwards  learned, 
nearly  the  entire  capital  of  a  Turcoman  family  is  thus 
invested  in  family  ornaments  —a  custom  the  adoption  of 
which  the  ladies  at  home  would  probably  hail  with  a  great 
deal  of  pleasure.  Still,  for  all  their  finery,  there  are  no 
more  hard-working  members  of  society  than  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  the  Khan's  subjects.  They  perform  with 
their  own  hands  every  detail  of  domestic  labour  ;  and  the 
lady  of  the  house  herself  not  only  superintends,  but  exe- 
cutes the  making  of  the  pilaff  which  constitutes  the  chief 
meal  of  the  day.  The  sun  had  set  some  time  when  a  large 
wooden  dish  of  barley  and  rice,  mixed  with  the  broken-up 

L  2 


148  DOMESTIC  LIFE. 

carcases  of  half  a  dozen  wild  ducks,  and  with  some  raisins 
and  dried  plums,  was  brought  in.  This  might  be  styled 
the  piece  de  resistance  of  a  Turcoman  gentleman's  family, 
were  there  aught  else  to  supplement  it.  As  it  is,  it  forms 
the  alpha  and  the  omega  of  the  meal — entremets  and  sweet 
dishes  being  combined  in  one  grand  whole.  The  family  and 
guests  sit  cross-legged  on  the  carpet,  round  the  great 
wooden  dish,  and  with  fingers  and  thumbs  supply  them- 
selves with  what  portions  of  the  mess  come  handy.  The 
meal  ended,  large  bolsters  are  produced ;  each  one  cleans 
his  fingers  from  the  adhering  grease  by  thrusting  them  sepa- 
rately and  repeatedly  into  his  mouth,  and  then,  spreading 
his  great  sheep-skin  overcoat  above  him,  sinks  to  sleep  just 
where  he  has  eaten.  In  the  morning,  fully  an  hour  before 
the  faintest  tinge  of  dawn  is  seen  upon  the  horizon,  one  is 
roused  by  the  low  rumbling  of  the  hand-mills  as  the  ladies 
of  the  community  grind  the  flour  for  the  morning  bread. 
This  is  baked  in  cylindrical  open-topped  ovens,  situated 
some  yards  from  the  entrance  to  the  house.  The  hand- 
mills  are  in  all  respects  precisely  similar  to  those  which  we 
find  in  museums  as  having  been  used  in  the  households  of 
the  early  Celts  and  Saxons  of  these  isles — commonly 
known  as  querns.  There  is  a  horizontal  nether  millstone, 
about  two  feet  in  diameter,  having  a  pivot  hole  in  its  centre. 
It  is  some  four  inches  in  thickness,  and  slightly  convex. 
Upon  it  rests  the  upper  stone,  of  equal  dimensions,  furnished 
with  one  opening  near  the  axis,  through  which  to  introduce 
the  corn  to  be  ground,  a  kind  of  primitive  *  hopper/  and  near 
the  circumference  with  another,  in  which  a  rude  handle  is 
inserted.  This  apparatus  is  laid  upon  a  coarse  cotton  cloth, 
and  along  red-shirted  young  lady  squatted  at  its  side  takes 
from  the  wooden  dish  close  to  her  handfuls  of  corn,  which 
she  pours  little  by  little  into  the  '  hopper/  all  the  time,  with 
her  right  hand,  causing  the  upper  stone  to  revolve.     The 


BAKING— BREAKFAST.  149 

coarsely  ground  flour  falls  out,  at  the  junction  of  the  stones, 
upon  the  cloth  beneath.  The  cereal  most  in  use  is  arpa,  or 
a  dark-coloured  species  of  barley,  and  the  resulting  flour  is 
anything  but  white.  The  ovens,  which,  as  I  have  said,  are 
situated  outside  the  houses,  at  a  few  yards*  distance  from 
the  door,  are  short  truncated  cones  of  loam,  hollow  in  the 
interior ;  they  are  filled  with  rude  brambles  and  morsels  of 
decayed  fishing  boats,  and  the  whole  is  set  on  fire.  In 
anything  like  a  considerable  village,  long  before  the  first 
blush  of  dawn  is  seen,  the  sky  is  red  with  the  reflection  of 
a  hundred  blazing  ovens.  When  the  entire  ignited  mass 
has  settled  down  to  a  cinder,  the  oven  is  ready  for  use. 
With  a  rude  broom  of  tamarisk  branches  the  cinders  are 
swept  to  one  side,  and  the  cake  of  dough,  an  inch  in  thick- 
ness, is  placed  upon  the  scorching  hearth.  The  red  cinders 
are  then  swept  over  it,  and  in  this  primitive  manner  the 
bread  is  baked.  This  work,  as  well  as  every  other  household 
duty,  is  exclusively  performed  by  females. 

The  morning  meal,  which  takes  place  usually  before  the 
sun  has  shone  out  above  the  horizon,  consists  of  bread,  so 
fresh  from  the  oven  that  it  burns  the  tongue  on  being  put 
into  the  mouth.  It  is  washed  down  by  weak  green  tea, 
usually  sugarless.  This  decoction,  made  in  a  strange 
mediaeval  looking  copper  tankard,  tastes  at  first  precisely 
like  Epsom  salts. 

Pending  the  arrival  of  my  servant  from  the  camp  at 
Tchikislar  with  my  Russian  passport,  gun  in  hand  I 
strolled  along  the  beach  of  the  Hassan-Kouli  lagoon,  on 
this  side  half  slob,  half  tide-pool.  Ducks  in  hundreds 
swam  in  groups  on  every  side,  and  allowed  the  shooter  to 
get  within  close  range  of  them.  They  do  not  seem  at  all 
afraid  of  the  approach  of  human  beings,  unless  one  comes 
very  close  indeed.  The  Turcomans  rarely  give  themselves 
the  trouble  to  go  shooting,  and  when  they  do  so  their 


150  IRON  SMALL-SHOT. 

ammunition  is  little  adapted  to  killing  at  long  range. 
Though  the  Turcomans  of  the  Caspian  border  and  in  the 
vicinity  of  Tchikislar  are  able  to  procure  powder  of 
European  make,  and  though  the  old  1853  pattern  muskets 
with  which  they  are  chiefly  armed  make  capital  ducking 
guns,  lead  shot  is  entirely  beyond  their  reach,  owing  to  the 
excessive  prices  charged  for  it  at  Asterabad,  the  nearest 
accessible  market  at  which  it  can  be  procured  without 
crossing  the  Caspian.  In  its  place,  grains  of  sulphide  of 
iron  are  used.  A  bar  of  iron  is  heated  to  whiteness,  and 
brought  in  contact  with  a  lump  of  crude  sulphur.  The 
iron  appears  to  melt,  and,  dropping  from  a  height  into  a 
bowl  of  water,  supplies  a  quantity  of  lava-like  nodules  of 
various  dimensions,  always  of  a  more  or  less  flattened  form* 
These  nodules  are  used  'as  a  substitute  for  leaden  small 
shot.  Beyond  ten  or  twelve  yards'  range  it  is  quite  in- 
efficacious against  the  stoutly  feathered  sea-birds,  and  again 
and  again  the  Turcomans  expressed  their  amazement  at  the 
distance  at  which,  with  superior  projectiles,  I  was  able  to 
bring  down  duck.  The  birds  seem  perfectly  aware  of  the 
range  of  the  Turcoman  guns,  and  do  not  disturb  themselves 
until  the  hunter  approaches  very  closely  indeed  to  them. 

It  was  a  couple  of  hours  after  sunrise  before  my  servant 
returned  from  Tchikislar,  bringing  with  him  the  document 
kindly  furnished  by  Colonel  Malama,  the  Chief  of  Staff, 
which  stated  that  I  had  been  attached  to  the  Russian 
columns,  and  recommended  me  to  the  Persian  authorities 
at  Asterabad.  I  immediately  ordered  my  horses  to  be 
saddled,  and  my  scanty  baggage  put  in  marching  order. 
Though  the  Chief  of  Staff  had  been  good  enough  to  furnith 
me  with  the  passport  to  which  I  have  alluded,  I  did  not 
feel  quite  sure  that,  Pharaoh-like,  he  might  not  afterwards 
repent  of  his  decision,  and  send  a  squadron  of  Cossacks 
after  me  to  fetch  me  back  to  the  camp,  and  force  me  to 


CROSSING  THE  ATTEREK  ESTUARY.  151 

proceed  to  Baku,  which  Colonel  Shelkovnikoff  had  intimated 
to  me  was  the  desire  of  the  Russian  authorities.  Our  way 
lay  in  a  south-easterly  direction,  across  a  slimy  waste  of 
mud,  in  which  our  horses'  feet  sank  fetlock-deep,  and  across 
which  our  progress  was  slow  and  disagreeable  in  the 
extreme.  A  couple  of  miles  off  to  the  left  were  some  rudely 
constructed  fishing  sheds,  with  highly-pitched  sloping  roofs, 
elevated  on  stout  piles  in  the  midst  of  the  shallow  water. 
They  belonged  to  an  Armenian  merchant,  who  had  a  very 
extensive  establishment  of  the  same  description  in  the 
mouth  of  the  Peri  Bazaar  river  near  Enzeli,  and  for  which 
I  had  been  told  he  paid  the  Shah  no  less  a  license  tax  than 
40,0002.  a  year.  Still  further  eastward  are  seen  the  low, 
sedgy  banks  of  the  river  proper,  before  it  merges  in  the 
lagoon,  and,  further  off,  vast  forests  of  giant  reeds,  amidst 
which  nestle  countless  myriads  of  sea-birds ;  ducks,  cranes, 
flamingoes,  and  many  other  waterfowl  of  whose  names  I 
am  ignorant  crowd  these  marshy  solitudes  or  wheel 
shrieking  above  the  waters  in  such  incredible  numbers  as 
to  seem  at  a  distance  like  an  angry  storm-cloud  surging 
before  a  whirlwind.  Whole  battalions  of  waders  fringed 
the  muddy  shores,  and  the  all  but  stagnant  waters  of  the 
lagoon  were  white  with  acres  of  gulls.  Pushing  on  farther 
still  in  a  south-easterly  direction,  we  crossed  some  disagree- 
ably deep  tidal  guts,  where  the  water  reached  to  our  horses' 
girths,  and  made  us  very  cautious  in  our  advance.  Then  a 
sand-spit  was  reached,  and,  at  its  extremity,  a  canoe, 
hollowed  from  a  single  tree-trunk,  styled  here  a  taimvl,  and 
conducted  by  an  elderly  Turcoman  and  his  son,  a  boy  of 
some  twelve  years,  awaited  us.  We  were  close  to  the  real 
channel  of  the  Atterek,  which  here  has  excavated  for  itself 
a  wide  and  tolerably  deep  bed.  A  few  years  ago  the 
stream  fell  into  the  northern  portion  of  the  lagoon,  but 
owing  to  quarrels  among  the  Yamud  Turcomans  themselves 


152  SWIMMING  THE   LAGOON. 

• 

a  dam  was  erected  some  miles  inland  which  turned  its 
course,  and  it  now  flows  almost  across  the  centre  of  the 
back-water.  Even  when  the  water  is  at  its  lowest,  this 
channel  is  altogether  unfordable ;  hence  the  necessity  for 
the  tdimvl  when  crossing  to  the  southern  bank.  The 
saddles  and  other  effects  were  placed  within  the  canoe,  in 
which  I  and  my  servant  also  embarked.  For  a  hundred 
yards  our  progress  was  more  like  skating  over  a  muddy 
surface  than  floating  upon  water,  but  gradually,  very 
gradually  indeed,  the  depth  increased ;  our  horses,  whose 
bridles  were  held  in  our  hands,  stepped  cautiously  behind 
our  frail  bark,  slipping  and  floundering  as  they  picked  their 
way  over  the  muddy  bottom.  Gradually  the  water  crept 
higher  and  higher  along  their  limbs,  until  at  length  the 
animals  were  afloat.  Horses  in  this  part  of  the  world  take 
things  like  this  coolly  enough,  and  without  the  least  hesita- 
tion they  struck  out,  swimming  close  to  our  stern.  Towards 
the  middle  of  the  channel  the  current  is  pretty  rapid,  and 
our  flat-bottomed  canoe  heeled  over  in  an  alarming  manner 
as  it  was  paddled  swiftly  across  the  stream.  A  distance  of 
fully  half  a  mile  had  to  be  traversed  before  the  horses  lost 
their  feet,  and  a  third  of  a  mile  was  swum  across  before  they 
again  touched  bottom.  Another  half  mile  of  paddling 
brought  us  again  into  excessively  shallow  water,  where  our 
old  Turcoman  and  his  son,  stepping  on  to  the  mud,  in 
which  they  sank  nearly  knee  deep  at  every  step,  proceeded 
to  drag  us  in  the  canoe  to  what  they  called  the  opposite 
shore.  Shore,  strictly  speaking,  there  was  none ;  the  point 
at  which  we  landed,  if  I  may  be  permitted  to  use  the  term, 
in  this  case  being  one  in  which  we  sank  mid-leg  deep. 
It  was  absolutely  necessary  to  leave  the  canoe,  so  thaL  :t 
might  be  dragged  still  further  across  the  horrid  mud-waste. 
I  do  not  recollect  that  such  a  hideous  wilderness  of  slime 
and  desolation  ever  met  my  eyes,  and,  as  we  painfully 


ACROSS  THE  MUD  FLATS.  153 

waded  along,  pulling  our  tdimvl  behind  us,  we  bore  no 
distant  resemblance  to  reptiles  crawling  over  the  surface 
of  some  Palaeozoic  morass. 

Long  and  painful  as  was  our  progress  southward,  we 
could  not  soon  succeed  in  reaching  ground  sufficiently  solid 
to  enable  us  to  disembark  our  saddles  and  baggage,  which 
were  placed  upon  our  horses  direct  from  the  canoe  itself,  as 
they  stood  alongside  of  it.  It  took  a  good  half  hour's 
diligent  scraping  to  remove  the  blue-black  shiny  mud  from 
our  boots  sufficiently  to  allow  our  feet  to  enter  the  stirrups, 
as  we  mounted  from  the  back  of  our  old  boatman.  Far 
and  near  stretched  the  desert  solitude  of  marly  mud,  strewn 
with  algee  and  fish-skeletons.  Then  followed  a  long, 
dreary  wading  march,  for  the  space  of  at  least  two  hours. 
Nothing  more  desolate  than  these  slimy  wastes  can  well 
be  imagined.  It  was  a  place  where  an  ichthyosaurus  might 
momentarily  be  expected  to  show  himself,  or  some  broad, 
dragon-winged  pterodactyl  come  beating  the  wind  heavily 
above  one's  head.  Then  the  ground  became  firmer,  and 
sparse  tamarisk  bushes  and  mossy  streaks  topped  the 
scarped  banks,  while  great  heavy-winged  vultures  crouched 
lazily,  gorged  with  their  banquet  of  decaying  fish.  As  the 
ground  assumed  a  solider  consistence,  long  coarse  sedge 
began  to  appear,  and  great  numbers  of  water  trenches 
furrowed  the  ground.  Whether  these  were  irrigation 
canals,  or  merely  accidental  off-shoots  of  the  scattered 
branches  of  the  Atterek,  crossing  its  delta,  I  am  unable  to 
say.  They  were  most  puzzling  to  the  traveller,  for  in 
some  cases  so  deep  was  the  mud  at  their  bottoms  that  it 
was  really  dangerous  to  attempt  crossing,  and  when  follow- 
ing their  banks  in  search  of  a  more  practicable  fording- 
point  one  completely  lost  his  way,  there  being  no  prominent 
landmarks  by  which  he  could  guide  himself.  Patches  of 
a  thin,  hungry  kind  of  oats  began  to  show,  indicating  our 


154  KARAKCHI  TURCOMANS. 

near  approach  to  human  dwellings,  and  after  another 
hour's  floundering  among  partially  inundated  marshy  sedge- 
fields,  we  saw  the  beehive-looking  aladjaks  of  the  village  of 
Atterek  itself,  situated  near  the  centre  of  the  delta.  The 
people  of  this  village  enjoy  an  unenviable  reputation  as 
thieves  and  marauders,  and  even  among  the  neighbouring 
Turcomans,  themselves  not  over-scrupulous  in  their  con- 
duct, they  are  known  as  the  Karakchi,  or  robber  Turcomans 
par  excellence.  Worn  out  with  hunger,  I  stopped  to  make 
some  coffee.  Though  I  wished  to  have  as  little  as  possible 
to  do  with  the  inhabitants,  in  order  to  procure  fuel  I  was  * 
obliged  to  enter  into  conversation  with  some  hang-dog 
looking  shepherds  who  were  tending  a  flock  of  scraggy 
goats  and  sheep.  As  I  sat  watching  the  fire  they  gathered 
round  me  curiously,  evidently  surprised  to  see  two  strangers 
venturing  thus  hardily  among  them.  ( Were  we  not  afraid 
to  come  there  alone  ?  *  they  asked.  •  No/  I  replied,  '  what 
should  I  have  to  fear  ? '  At  this  they  smiled.  Doubtless 
the  sight  of  my  revolving  carbine  and  pistol  rendered  them 
much  more  honest  and  hospitable  than  they  would  other- 
wise have  been.  As  I  was  quite  unacquainted  with  the 
district,  and  as  there  is  no  trace  of  a  road,  I  resolved  to 
push  forward,  still  in  a  south-easterly  direction,  until  I 
struck  upon  the  telegraph  line  extending  from  Tchikislar 
to  Asterabad.  By  following  this  I  should  take  the  most 
direct  line  to  the  latter  town.  Before  I  had  gone  many 
hundred  yards  I  struck  upon  the  main  southern  branch  of 
the  Atterek,  which  winds  in  the  most  confusing  manner. 
It  was  in  vain  I  tried,  at  twenty  different  points,  to  ford 
it,  and  only  after  a  couple  of  hours'  wandering  did  I 
perceive,  far  away  to  the  left,  the  telegraph  poles,  towards 
which  I  directed  myself.  I  was  fortunately  able,  by  follow- 
ing the  track  of  some  camels,  which  I  noticed  in  the  mud, 
to  discover  the  regular  ford.      Beyond  the  river  branch, 


GOKLAN-TEPESSL  i$5 

and  still  to  the  left,  rose  a  high  earth  cliff,  where  the  stream 
had  eaten  away  the  side  of  a  large  escar-like  hill.  This  is 
known  as  Goklan-Tepessi,  the  hill  of  the  Goklans.  On  its 
southern  slope  was  another  village  of  Karakehi  Turcomans, 
situated  within  twelve  hours'  march  of  Asterabad.  As 
night  was  already  falling,  no  choice  was  left  me  but  to  risk 
taking  up  my  quarters  for  the  night  in  this  thieves'  strong- 
hold. Huge  savage  dogs  rushed  out  to  assail  us  as  we  drew 
near  the  aladjaks,  and  we  were  obliged  to  draw  our  sabres 
to  keep  them  at  respectful  distance.  The  inhabitants  were 
assembled  for  evening  prayers,  in  the  very  peculiar  kind 
of  mosque  used  by  the  Turcomans,  and  which  I  have 
already  had  occasion  to  describe  when  writing  of  the  village 
of  Hassan-Kouli.  The  oddest  thing  about  these  praying 
enclosures  is  that  no  particular  sanctity  appears  to  attach 
to  them  as  there  does  to  the  roofed  structures  of  the  more 
sedentary  Mussulman.  In  fact  I  have  occasionally  seen 
them  used  for  purposes  the  reverse  of  sacred,  and  which 
certainly,  in  the  eyes  of  any  Mussulman,  would  be  sufficient 
to  desecrate  the  most  thrice-blessed  spot  of  ground.  Of 
course,  after  being  thus  defiled  they  are  not  used  again  for 
purposes  of  prayer,  but  a  new  enclosure  is  prepared.  Thus 
we  find  in  the  neighbourhood  of  any  considerable  village 
some  scores  of  impromptu  djamis,  or  open-air  mosques, 
which  have  been  abandoned.  The  sun  had  already  set, 
and  the  sea-fog  which  hung  along  this  low-lying  coast 
produced  a  gloom  unusual  in  the  twilight  of  these  Eastern 
climes.  I  stood  beside  my  horses  at  a  little  distance  until 
the  evening  orisons  were  completed,  and  then,  drawing  near 
a  group  of  elders,  requested  hospitality  for  the  night.  They 
were  evidently  as  much  surprised  to  see  me,  accompanied  by 
but  one  servant,  venturing  into  their  midst,  as  were  their 
brethren  of  the  village  of  Atterek,  and  for  some  time  an  omi- 
nous silence  reigned  among  them.    They  were  clearly  trying 


156  A  POOR  LODGING. 

to  make  up  their  minds  whether  they  would  accord  me  the 
sought-for  hospitality,  or  proceed  to  confiscate  my  horses 
and  other  property,  and  it  was  with  no  small  misgiving 
that  I  awaited  the  result  of  the  conference.  Presently, 
however,  their  better  natures  seemed  to  prevail,  and  an  old, 
long-haired  moullah  motioned  to  me  to  follow  him.  The 
moullah,  or  priest,  in  Mahometan  countries  invariably  has 
his  head  shorn  as  bare  as  his  lay  brethren,  but  should  he 
belong  to  an  order  of  dervishes  he  wears  locks  flowing  upon 
his  shoulders,  and,  with  his  egg-shell-shaped  tiara,  looks 
very  like  a  *  pope,'  as  the  Bussian  priest  is  termed. 

Under  circumstances  such  as  these  which  I  am  de- 
scribing, the  chief,  or  at  least  one  of  the  more  important 
men  of  the  community,  usually  takes  charge  of  the  stranger. 
In  the  present  instance,  however,  I  was  conducted  to  the 
kibitka  of  the  village  smith.  The  furniture  of  the  hut  was 
miserable  in  the  extreme,  and  denoted  wretched  poverty. 
Indeed,  throughout  the  entire  village  the  same  was  a  salient 
feature.  This  is  quite  uncommon  among  the  ordinary 
nomads,  who  as  a  rule  are  pretty  well  off— as  well-being 
goes  in  these  parts  of  the  world — that  is  to  say,  they  are 
well  clothed,  seldom,  in  their  villages  at  least,  lack  adequate 
food,  and  the  earthen  floor  of  the  aladjak  is  generally  well 
furnished  with  carpets  of  no  ordinary  quality.  After  a 
while  it  struck  me  that  the  chief  had  relegated  me  to  the 
smith's  aladjak  to  conceal  his  own  incapacity  for  entertain- 
ing me  in  a  proper  fashion.  It  was  with  difficulty  that  a 
kind  of  tattered  quilt  could  be  produced,  on  which  I  was 
invited  to  be  seated.  At  one  side  were  a  diminutive 
anvil,  a  couple  of  hammers,  and  two  or  three  flat  bars 
of  iron,  probably  purchased  at  Tchikislar.  A  heap  of  char- 
coal, and  a  rude  bellows  composed  of  a  sheepskin,  lying 
beside  the  fire,  completed  the  entire  stock-in-trade  of 
this  desert  artisan.     He  was  termed  the  usta-adam,  the 


PARIAHS  OF  THE  DESERT.  157 

nearest  comprehensive  rendering  of  ^hich  in  English 
would  be  handy-man,  or  Jack-of-all-trades ;  for  here  there 
is  no  division  into  guilds,  and  one  usta-adam  acts  in  many 
capacities  for  the  immediate  population.  He  will  make 
silver  rings  for  the  women,  shoe  horses,  repair  gun-locks, 
and  even  bleed  a  plethoric  individual.  In  most  Turcoman 
houses  (especially  in  the  neighbourhood  of  any  Russian 
settlement)  is  to  be  found  the  samovar,  or  tea-urn.  Here, 
in  the  entire  village,  there  was  not  one.  Neither  was  there 
tea,  or  sugar,  or  meat,  or  pilaff  of  any  kind.  A  rude  hand- 
mill  was  set  in  requisition,  some  coarse  brown  corn  was 
ground,  and  a  cake  of  bread  was  there  and  then  got  ready. 
This,  with  some  rather  salty  water,  was  the  only  cheer 
which  it  was  in  the  power  of  the  smith  to  afford  me. 
There  was  not  even  a  kalioun,  or  water-pipe,  amongst  his 
household  goods.  One  was  borrowed  from  the  moullah, 
but  no  tobacco  was  forthcoming,  and  it  was  with  eager  de- 
light that  my  host  witnessed  the  production  by  my  servant 
of  a  bag  of  the  coarse,  shell-like  tumbaki  used  by  smokers 
in  these  regions.  Ere  long,  visitors  began  to  arrive — l^ss 
to  interview  the  stranger  and  learn  his  object  in  coming 
among  them  than  to  enjoy  the  unaccustomed  luxury  of  a 
smoke  from  the  water-pipe.  These  Turcomans,  I  was  told, 
belonged  to  the  Ata-bai  tribe,  but  they  seemed  a  very  dis- 
tinct sub-division  of  it,  for  they  were  Ishmaelites  even 
among  Ishmaelites.  Their  brethren  of  the  same  clan 
seemed  to  have  fallen  foul  of  them,  and  one  of  my  visitors 
informed  me  that,  a  couple  of  evenings  previously,  their 
neighbours,  the  Ak  Ata-bais,  had  surreptitiously  carried  off 
the  greater  portion  of  the  horses  which  they  possessed.  It 
was  with  some  uneasiness  that  I  lay  down  to  sleep,  as  I 
was  in  some  apprehension  that  the  people  of  the  village 
might  compensate  themselves  for  the  loss  of  their  cattle  by 
annexing  mine  before  morning;  and  more  than  once  in 


158  THE  ATTEREK  DELTA. 

the  course  of  the  night  I  rose  and  went  to  the  door  to 
see  if  they  were  still  tethered  where  I  had  placed  them. 
My  host,  to  do  him  justice,  seemed  equally  on  the  alert, 
and  doubtless  he  had  good  reasons  for  being  so.  Each 
time  that  a  horse  neighed,  or  we  heard  a  trampling  of 
hoofs,  as  he  rose  to  shake  himself,  we  started  to  our  feet, 
and,  seizing  our  arms,  rushed  to  the  doorway.  When 
morning  came,  however,  matters  turned  out  to  be  all  right, 
and  giving  my  entertainer  the  sum  of  five  francs  for  the 
night's  accommodation — a  sum  which  he  doubtless,  poor  man, 
seldom  looked  upon — I  mounted,  and  taking  leave  of  the 
chief,  rode  away  along  the  crest  of  the  Goklan-Tepessi  hill 
to  have  a  look  at  the  surrounding  country.  The  long, 
burnt-looking  yellow  sedgy  grass  grew  plentifully  around. 
I  have  often  since,  at  all  seasons  of  the  year,  seen  this 
same  kind  of  grass  growing  over  different  portions  of  the 
Turcoman  plain,  but  never  have  I  seen  it  of  a  green  colour. 
Looking  to  the  north  and  west  from  the  hill-top,  one  had  a 
capital  view  of  the  dismal  expanse  of  the  Atterek  delta,  its 
watercourses  mapped  out  distinctly  amid  the  reed  and 
sedge-covered  waste.  Here  and  there  were  great  pools  of 
stagnant  water,  literally  covered  with  aquatic  birds,  among 
which,  in  apparent  good-fellowship,  were  to  be  seen  fish- 
hawks,  vultures,  eagles,  and  carrion  crows,  forgetting  their 
mutually  combative  tendencies  in  view  of  the  bountiful 
supply  of  food  which  the  half-stifled  fish,  wallowing  one 
upon  the  other  in  the  shallow  water,  afforded  them.  Here 
and  there  were  patches  of  dense  black,  often  half-a-mile  in 
length,  where  the  giant  reeds  of  last  year's  growth  had 
been  burned  down  by  the  Turcomans  to  prevent  wild  boars 
and  jackals  harbouring  within  them,  for  the  former  animals 
play  sad  havoc  with  the  little  cultivation  which  the 
Turcomans  practise,  and  the  jackals  are  always  at  hand, 
looking  out  for  the  domestic  fowls  which  are  occasionally  to 


THE  INTER-FLUVIAL  PLAIN.  159 

be  found  in  the  aoutts.  A  propos  of  domestic  fowls,  and 
especially  in  the  villages  bordering  upon  the  sea  coast  and 
Atterek  delta,  great  flocks  of  duck  are  reared  by  the  inhabi- 
tants, but  so  nomadic  are  the  habits  of  these  birds,  and  so 
strong  are  they  upon  the  wing,  that  it  is  all  but  impossible 
to  distinguish  them  from  their  wilder  brethren  that  people 
these  solitudes  in  such  vast  numbers.  I  have  frequently 
been  astonished  at  seeing  what  I  took  to  be  a  crowd  of  fifty 
or  sixty  mallards  come  flying  into  the  midst  of  the  village, 
and,  forming  in  some  open  space,  proceed  to  march  in 
serried  files  into  the  aladjdk  devoted  to  them,  and  I  have 
called  down  the  wrath  of  the  inhabitants  upon  my  head  by 
discharging  my  gun  at  them.  They  fly  away  for  miles 
along  the  coast,  keeping  themselves  carefully  separated  from 
the  wilder  sea-birds,  and  invariably  return  to  their  domicile 
at  a  certain  hour  in  the  evening. 

Away  to  the  south  stretched  the  immense  interfiuvial 
plain,  separating  the  Giurgen  and  Atterek  rivers,  the  scarce 
perceptible  water-shed  separating  the  respective  valleys 
crowned  by  the  long  line  of  tepes,  or  earth  mounds,  which 
mark  the  line  of  ancient  fortifications  known  to  the  Tur- 
comans as  Alexander's  Wall,  or,  as  it  is  more  usually  styled, 
the  Kizil-alan,  or  '  red  road.'  Further  away  still,  beyond 
the  faintly  seen  forest  growths  across  the  Kara  Su,  loomed 
the  snow-streaked  ridges  of  the  Demavend  range  of  moun- 
tains, and  to  the  right,  along  the  Giurgen,  the  long  line  of 
ruined  ramparts  and  towers  marking  the  site  of  the  now 
deserted  town  of  Ak-Eala,  once  a  principal  seat  of  the 
Eadjar  family — a  member  of  which  sits  upon  the  throne  of 
Persia  to-day — and  a  powerful  rival  of  Asterabad  itself.  It 
is  now  only  a  small  mud  fort,  occupying  the  north-eastern 
corner  of  the  old  town,  and  garrisoned  by  a  battalion  of 
Persian  infantry,  which  guards  the  bridge  across  the 
Giurgen,  and  at  this  point  is  all  that  remains  of  life  in  this 


i6o         PIN-TAILED  GROUSE— ANCIENT  COINS. 

once  populous  locality.     Two  hours  after  sunset  I  started 
due  southward,   following   the  line    of   telegraph    which 
leads  direct  to  Asterabad.     At  every  two  or  three  hundred 
yards  we  disturbed  immense  flocks  of  pin-tailed  grouse — 
goolgairooky  as  it  is  termed.     In  some  of  these  flocks  there 
cannot  have  been  less  than  half  a  million  birds.      As 
they  rose   from  the  ground  the   surging  of  their  wings 
sounded  like  distant  thunder,  causing  our  horses  to  start 
and  rear  with  terror.     The  number  of  these  birds  that  we 
met  with  on  the  plain  passes  all  belief,  and  to  me  it  seems 
marvellous  that  more  use  is  not  made  of  their  flesh  as  an 
article  of  food,  for  when  roasted  they  are  excellent.     Two 
hours'  ride  brought  us  to  one  of  the  principal  mounds  of 
the  Kizil-alan.      It  is   called    the  Altoun-tokmok.      This 
word,  in  Turcoman  dialect,  signifies  '  gold-receiver.'    The 
name  has  been  given  to  it  owing  to  the  frequency  with 
which  pieces  of  gold  money  have  been  found  amidst  the 
old  parapet  walls  and  towers  of  brick  which  still  remain  at 
intervals  along  its  crest,  just  as  the  neighbouring  mound  of 
Gumush  Tep6  has  been  so  called  from  the  discovery  of  the  large 
number  of  Alexandrian  silver  coins  by  some  Turcomans  when 
excavating  a  grave  upon  its  summit.     For  many  a  weary 
mile  the  plain  is  absolutely  unbroken,  save  where  here  and 
there  some  muddy  irrigation  stream,  through  being  choked, 
has  expanded  into  a  treacherous  mud-hole  which  incon- 
veniently blocks  the  way.    Around  these  water  patches 
have  sprung  up  hundreds  of  acres  of  the  enormous  reeds 
which  characterise  the  Atterek  district,  and  which  harbour 
every  species  of  wild  animal.     While  endeavouring  to  wade 
across  one  of  these  disagreeable  obstacles  we  met  with  some 
dozens  of  Arab  muleteers  from  Baghdad,  going  with  their 
gaily-caparisoned  animals  to  the  Bussian  camp  at  Tchikis- 
lar.     These  men  ordinarily  ply  as  carriers  between  their 
native   city  and  Meshed,   via  Ispahan   and  Teheran.     I 


ENCOUNTER   WITH  DOGS.  161 

afterwards  learned  that  these  muleteers  remained  but  a 
short  time  in  the  Russian  service,  so  great  was  the  terror 
inspired  by  the  Akhal  Tekke  horsemen. 

After  eight  hours'  march,  the  ordinarily  stunted  and 
withered  grass  of  the  plains  began  to  assume  a  more  ver- 
dant appearance,  and  vast  herds  of  sheep,  goats,  and  cows 
were  to  be  met  with,  attended  by  wild-looking  men  and 
boys,  all  of  them  wearing  the  preposterous  black  sheep- 
skin hat  of  the  country,  and  each  armed  with  musket  and 
sabre.  Another  hour's  ride  brought  us  to  the  village  of 
Giurgen,  close  to  the  river  bank.  Here,  as  is  usual  when 
approaching  a  Turcoman  village,  we  were  furiously  as- 
sailed by  scores  of  gigantic  wolf-like  dogs,  whose  invariable 
custom  it  is  to  surround  the  stranger,  who,  if  on  foot,  is 
often  in  serious  peril.  Biding  into  the  centre  of  the 
village,  I  invited  the  Turcomans,  who  stood  at  the  doors 
of  their  kibitkas,  highly  amused  by  the  predicament  in 
which  I  was  placed,  to  call  off  their  dogs,  who  were  leap- 
ing savagely  at  my  boots  and  my  horse's  nose,  causing 
the  poor  beast  to  rear  and  kick  furiously.  One  had 
seized  by  his  teeth  the  extremity  of  the  rather  extensive 
tail  of  my  charger,  and,  managing  to  keep  out  of  range 
of  his  heels,  held  on  like  grim  death.  I  drew  my  re- 
volver and  exhibited  it  to  the  Turcomans,  assuring  them 
that  if  they  did  not  immediately  call  off  their  dogs  I  would 
make  use  of  the  weapon.  To  this  threat  they  paid  no 
attention,  and  I  was  obliged  to  turn  in  my  saddle  and  fire 
fully  into  my  assailant's  mouth.  As  he  rolled  over  on  the 
sward,  his  companions,  with  the  most  admirable  prompti- 
tude, withdrew  to  a  safe  distance ;  and  the  Turcomans, 
rushing  out  with  sticks  in  their  hands,  proceeded  to  beat 
them  still  further  off,  though  at  first  I  supposed  that  the 
sticks  were  intended  for  my  own  person.  But  a  few  yards 
away  lay  the  deep,  canon-like  bed  of  the  Giurgen  itself, 

VOL.   I.  M 


i 


162  THE  GIURGEN—NERGIS  TEP£. 

fifty  yards  in  breadth  at  its  surface.  The  stream  had  cat 
its  way  in  the  stiff,  marly  earth  to  a  depth  of  fully  forty 
feet,  and  the  earth  cliffs  went  sheer  down  almost  vertically. 
A  little  to  the  eastward  of  the  village  was  an  exceedingly 
steep  ramp,  leading  to  the  water's  edge,  by  which  camels 
and  horses  had  access  to  the  ford.  Unless  accompanied 
by  a  guide  it  is  often  very  dangerous  for  a  stranger  to 
attempt  a  crossing  of  this  kind,  for  rarely,  if  ever,  does  the 
fordable  path  cross  directly  to  the  opposite  bank.  In  the 
present  instance  a  kind  of  earth  ridge,  whether  natural  or 
artificial  I  am  unable  to  say,  led  obliquely  up  the  river  and 
allowed  the  horseman  to  pass,  his  horse  just  barely  avoid- 
ing swimming  when  the  water  was  low.  The  opposite  bank 
of  the  river  was  so  steep  that  we  were  obliged  to  dismount, 
and,  scrambling  on  hands  and  knees  up  the  brush-grown 
slope,  with  many  a  stumble,  we  dragged  our  horses  after  us. 
Immediately  southward  of  the  river,  the  welcome  sight  of 
green  grassy  surfaces  and  trees  greeted  our  eyes.  Bight 
in  front  of  us,  at  the  edge  of  a  dense  forest,  lay  a  village 
of  the  Ata-bai  division  of  the  Yamuds,  called,  after  an 
ancient  earth-mound  close  by,  Nergis-tepe  (Narcissus 
mound).  The  tomb  of  some  modern  Turcoman  saint  stood 
upon  its  top,  and  round  its  base  was  a  line  of  breastwork, 
probably  constructed  by  the  hostile  factions  of  the  Kadjars 
during  their  struggles  for  supremacy  in  the  early  part  of 
the  century.  The  village  itself  was  also  strongly  entrenched, 
as  the  Goklan  and  Tekke  nomads  made  frequent  incursions 
upon  these  Ata-bai  Turcomans,  who  live,  at  least  nominally, 
under  Persian  jurisdiction. 

The  Khan,  a  man  of  unusually  large  stature,  and  dark, 
sullen  countenance,  received  me  most  ungraciously ;  but  as 
he  could  not  be  sure  as  to  who  I  was,  or  as  to  the  nature 
of  ray  mission,  he  was  perforce  induced  to  offer  me  hos- 
pitality in  his  kibitka  for  the  night.    Early  next  morning 


POMEGRANATE  JUNGLE.  163 

our  way  lay  through  cultivated  fields,  principally  of  rice, 
occurring  at  intervals  in  the  midst  of  elm  forests,  chenar 
(plane-tree)  groves,  and  brakes  of  giant  reed,  twelve  to 
eighteen  feet  in  height,  and  inhabited,  I  was  told,  by 
leopards  and  boars.  After  a  mile  or  so  the  cultivated  fields 
disappeared,  and  we  were  forced  to  follow  wild-boar  tracks, 
through  a  dense  jungle  of  pomegranate  and  thorn-bush, 
twined  with  creepers,  to  the  swampy  edge  of  the  Eara-Su. 
Without  following  these  tracks  it  would  be  utterly  impos- 
sible to  make  one's  way,  unless  by  proceeding  axe  in  hand 
as  in  the  primaeval  forest.  The  ground  was  swampy,  owing 
to  the  infiltration  of  the  waters  of  the  Eara-Su,  and  every 
kind  of  vegetation  grew  in  luxuriance  around  us.  Some 
cane  and  reed  brakes  had  been  burned  down,  and  the 
sprittging  shoots  presented  a  deliciously  green  and  tender 
appearance.  After  many  months'  sojourn  amid  the  desolate 
surroundings  of  the  Russian  camp  at  Tchikislar,  and  on 
the  plains  reaching  away  to  the  eastward,  it  is  impossible 
to  describe  how  delightful  all  this  wild  luxuriance  of  vege- 
table growth  was  to  our  eyes.  We  had  done  with  the  inter- 
minable sand-wastes,  and  the  pitiless  sun-glow  from  the 
surface  of  the  scorched  desert.  The  horses,  accustomed  to 
munch  the  stunted  bitter  shrubs  of  the  plains,  resembling 
rather  diminutive  heath  brooms  that  had  seen  much  service 
than  aught  else  I  could  call  to  mind,  seemed  beside  them- 
selves with  delight,  and  could  scarcely  decide  on  which 
hand  to  choose  a  mouthful  of  succulent  herbage,  so  great 
was  the  embarras  de  riehesses  around  them.  Ripe  pome- 
granates dangled  above  our  heads,  and  fell  at  our  feet,  as 
we  forced  our  way  along.  After  about  an  hour's  ride 
through  this  belt  of  jungle,  rice-fields  once  more  appeared, 
and  the  road  then  lay  through  a  fortified  Persian  village,  a 
kind  of  suburb  of  the  town  of  Asterabad.  Then,  through 
the  more  open  glades,  glimpses  were  caught  of  the  pictu- 

M  2 


164  DISTANT  VIEW  OF  ASTERABAD. 

resque  towers  and  ramparts  of  the  town  itself,  gleaming 
yellowly  in  the  noon-day  sun.  Seen  from  a  distance,  one 
might  fancy  himself  enacting  the  part  of  the  Kalendar  in 
the  '  Arabian  Nights/  and,  after  a  weary  wandering  amidst 
trackless  deserts,  coming  suddenly  upon  the  enchanted 
city. 

Situated  on  the  slopes  of  the  Demavend  Mountains,  at 
all  seasons  of  the  year  Asterabad  is  plentifully  supplied  with 
water,  and  as  we  neared  the  northern  gate  we  crossed 
stream  after  stream,  clear  as  crystal,  flowing  over  their 
pebbly  beds,  and  issuing  by  low  archways  under  the  town 
walls.  In  the  shadow  of  the  gate-arch  sat  the  watchmen, 
smoking  kaUouns  of  portentous  dimensions,  and  keeping 
careful  vigil  lest  any  contraband  merchandise  should  be 
introduced  into  the  border  city  from  the  neighbouring 
Russian  frontier.  Then  we  threaded  our  way  through  the 
silent,  ill-payed  streets,  where  are  the  remains  of  Shah 
Abass  the  Great's  once  famous  causeway.  The  huge  paving 
stones,  tossed  and  tumbled  in  the  wildest  confusion  owing 
to  the  traffic  and  neglect  of  centuries,  offer  a  serious 
obstacle,  even  to  the  most,  sure-footed  mule.  Between 
high,  ruinous  mud  walls ;  then  across  an  outlying  street 
of  the  bazaar,  with  its  rude  sun-shade  of  leaves  and 
branches  stretching  from  housetop  to  housetop  across  the 
way ;  and  up  to  the  British  Consulate,  where  I  was  most 
kindly  received  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Churchill. 


SEAT  OF  KADJAR  FAMILY.  165 


CHAPTER  X. 

ASTERABAD. 

Seat  of  the  Kadjars  of  Persia — Old  ramparts — Shah  Abass'  causeway — "Wild 
boars,  jackals,  &c.,  in  town — Atmospheric  indices — Anecdote  of  Nadir 
Shah — Streets — Bazaar — Grocers,  dyers,  gunsmiths,  &c — Percussion  gun- 
locks — Felt  manufacture — Sun  screens — Public  story-teller — Turcomans 
and  rice-dealers — Scarcity  of  grain  in  Mazanderan  and  Ghilan — Turcomans 
and  Arabs  in  bazaar — Returned  pilgrims — Persian  mourning — Old  Kac(jar 
palace — Enamelled  tiles — Rustam  and  the  Div  Sefld — Russian  telegraphists 
and  spoliation — 'Blue  china  maniacs' — Reflet  mMallique — Theory  and 
examples— Wild  boars  and  Persian  servants — Anti-Koranic  cookery  at 
British  Consulate — Results— Persian  domestics — Nadir  Shah  and  his 
descendants — Pensions  and  employment — Title  of  Mirza — Intoxicating 
bread  and  enchanted  trees — Outskirts  of  Asterabad — Outlying  fort — 
View  from  its  summit. 

A  description  of  any  North  Persian  town  of  considerable 
dimensions  would  fit  Asterabad  exactly,  as  far  as  physical 
features  are  concerned,  but  its  position  on  the  extreme 
frontier  and  its  antecedents  endow  it  with  noteworthy  charac- 
teristics. Up  to  the  time  at  which  the  present  royal  family 
of  Persia  ascended  the  throne,  Asterabad  was  the  principal 
seat  of  the  Persian  monarchs.  Another  branch  of  the 
Kadjars  had  formerly  occupied  the  town  situated  on  the 
banks  of  the  Giurgen,  on  the  site  of  which  now  stands  the 
Persian  border  fort  of  Ak-Kala,  guarding  the  bridge  of  the 
same  name.  In  this  latter  place  and  at  Asterabad  the 
rival  branches  of  the  Eadjar  family  had  their  respective 
head-quarters,  and  it  was  only  after  a  protracted  struggle 
that  Asterabad  took  the  foremost  position,  and  that  Ak- 
Kala  was  dismantled,  and  its  inhabitants  compelled  to  add 


166  DERIVATION  OF  NAME—WALLS. 

their  numbers  to  the  population  of  Asterabad.  There  are 
two  derivations  of  the  present  name,  according  to  one  of 
which  the  Persian  word  astra  (a  star)  would  be  a  com- 
ponent. The  name  is  also  derived  from  aster  (a  mule),  and 
would  in  this  case  imply  that  some  former  monarch  of  Persia 
had  there  established  great  mule  stables.  The  town  itself, 
as  far  as  I  could  judge,  is  about  three  miles  in  circumfer- 
ence, and  is  surrounded  by  ramparts  and  towers  of 
unbaked  brick,  averaging  thirty  feet  in  height  from  the 
general  level  of  the  ground  outside.  They  are  at  present 
in  a  very  dilapidated  condition,  though  there  is  still  a 
pretence  made  of  mounting  regular  guard  upon  them.  The 
towers,  where  not  entirely  fallen  into  ruin,  have  a  flat 
conical  roof  of  red  tiles,  and  the  top  of  the  parapet  wall  is 
thatched  with  a  covering  of  reeds,  to  prevent  the  occasional 
heavy  rains  from  washing  away  the  substance  of  the  un- 
baked bricks  of  which  it  is  composed.  Only  the  base  of  the 
towers  and  walls  is  of  baked  brick,  each  brick  being  about 
a  foot  square  and  two  and  a  half  inches  in  thickness. 
Ruinous  as  is  the  condition  of  these  walls,  they  are  quite 
sufficient  for  the  protection  of  the  inhabitants  against  any 
coup  de  main  which  might  be  attempted  by  the  Turcomans 
of  the  plains  northward.  Against  an  attack  by  a  more 
formidable  enemy  its  fortifications  would  be  entirely  useless, 
nor  do  I  believe  that  the  vainest  Persian  within  its  walls 
.  pretends  otherwise.  The  enceinte  of  the  ramparts  is  of  an 
irregular  quadrilateral  form.  There  are  three  gates ;  one 
opening  on  the  plains  to  the  northward  towards  Tchikislar, 
another  looking  southward,  and  the  third  being  in  the 
western  ramparts.  The  old  paved  causeway  constructed 
by  the  orders  of  Shah  Abass  the  Great  issues  by  this  latter 
gate,  and  leads  towards  what  is  called  the  port  of  Asterabad, 
at  Kenar-Gez.  To  judge  by  the  portions  of  this  causeway 
Which  remain  intact,  it  would  seem  to  have  been  of  solid, 


SHAH  ABASS*  CAUSEWAY.  167 

workmanlike  construction ;  the  materials  used  were  blocks 
of  stone  about  a  foot  long  by  nine  inches  wide,  roughly 
hewn,  and  forming  a  roadway  some  fifteen  feet  in  width 
where  it  leaves  the  city  gate,  but  narrowing  to  eight  feet  at 
the  distance  of  a  mile  from  the  walls.  The  stone  blocks, 
once  evenly  joined  together,  which  form  its  surface,  are 
now  tossed  about  in  wild  confusion,  and  protruding  from 
the  bottoms  of  water-pools  and  mud-sloughs,  constituting 
so  many  obstacles  in  the  path  of  the  traveller.  Apparently 
since  the  day  of  the  construction  of  this  roadway,  no 
attempt  has  ever  been  made  to  maintain  it  in  a  practicable 
condition.  From  the  northern  gateway  another  section  of 
this  causeway  leads  across  the  plains  in  the  direction  of 
Shahrood.  Within  an  arched  guardway  at  each  gate  the 
semblance  of  a  military  guard  is  kept  up,  though  nothing 
like  a  regular  sentry  is  to  be  seen.  The  traveller,  on  . 
arriving,  perceives  a  pair  of  superannuated  muskets  lean- 
ing against  the  walls;  and  some  loose- vested  Persians, 
squatting  on  a  raised  platform  of  brick,  and  smoking 
the  inevitable  kaUoun,  represent  the  custom-house  officers. 
They  keep  a  sharp  eye  upon  the  laden  camels  and  mules 
entering  the  town,  to  see  that  rateable  merchandise  is  not 
clandestinely  introduced  from  the  Bussian  frontier.  The 
greater  portion  of  the  space  within  the  walls  is  taken  up, 
partly  with  gardens  and  bare  open  areas,  and  partly, 
especially  at  the  corners  of  the  town,  with  a  wild  growth  of 
jungle  and  briars.  Here,  at  all  hours  of  the  day,  and 
particularly  towards  sunset,  wild  boars  and  their  broods, 
jackals,  foxes,  woodcocks,  and  snipes  are  to  be  found. 
During  my  stay  in  the  place  I  repeatedly  visited  these 
intra-mural  hunting  grounds  in  search  of  them.  Along 
the  ramparts  are  rain  gullies  and  fallen  portions  of  the 
parapet,  which  form  gaps  through  which  the  wild  boars 
enter  and  make  their  exit  at  will.    I  have  seen  as  many  as 


168  WILD  ANIMALS   WITHIN  THE  WALLS. 

eight  or  nine  of  the  latter,  old  and  young,  burst  away  from 
the  briar  thickets  as  I  approached,  and  have  watched  them 
careering  across  the  rice  and  maize  fields  outside,  until 
they  found  shelter  in  the  dense  forest  growth  along  the 
water-courses  south  of  the  town.  As  regards  jackals,  the 
numbers  in  which  they  assemble  at  nightfall,  both  outside 
and  within  the  ramparts,  are  incredible.  They  are 
attracted  by  the  dead  bodies  of  horses,  asses,  and  dogs, 
which  are  left  lying  in  the  more  remote  thoroughfares,  and, 
passing  at  night  by  one  of  these  carcases,  one  is  pretty 
sure  to  see  three  or  four  jackals  start  away  from  their 
uncanny  feast.  The  old  ditches  of  the  town  are  entirely 
choked  up  with  briars  and  bushes,  the  haunt  of  every  wild 
animal  indigenous  to  the  district,  including  the  lynx  and 
the  leopard,  but  the  latter  rarely  ventures  within  the 
ramparts.  During  the  night  the  yelping  wail  of  the  jackal 
scarce  ceases  for  a  moment,  and  even  under  the  very 
windows  of  the  houses  within  the  town  itself,  these  impudent 
intruders  are  to  be  heard  uttering  their  singular  cry,  in 
which  they  are  generally  joined  by  the  numerous  dogs  of 
the  town.  The  inhabitants  say  that  when  the  dogs  answer 
the  cry  of  the  jackals,  it  is  a  sure  forerunner  of  fine  weather, 
but  that  if  the  dogs  remain  silent  rain  or  storm  is  certain 
to  follow.  I  believe  this  to  be  tolerably  correct,  for  I  have 
on  more  than  one  occasion  observed  the  accuracy  of  the 
prediction.  In  the  north-eastern  angle  of  the  town  is  a 
quadrangular  enclosure  surrounded  by  parapets  of  very 
considerable  relief,  the  town  walls  forming  two  sides  of  the 
space.  This  is  the  old  citadel,  and  it  is  curious  that  in  all 
North  Persian  fortified  towns,  both  ruined  and  otherwise, 
which  I  have  had  opportunities  of  examining,  the  citadel 
invariably  occupies  this  position  in  the  north-eastern  angle. 
This  citadel  is  said  to  have  been  constructed  by  a  governor 
of  the  town  during  the  reign  of  the  celebrated  Nadir  Shah, 


STORY  OF  NADIR  SHAH.  169 

who  flourished  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  with 
the  view  of  affording  himself  a  safe  asylum  against  his 
numerous  enemies  both  within  the  town  and  in  the  sur- 
rounding territory.  Nadir  Shah,  a  soldier  of  fortune  him- 
self, heard  of  these  new  fortifications,  and,  with  a  jealousy 
characteristic  of  him,  sent  to  the  governor  to  ask  the 
meaning  of  his  military  preparations,  deeming,  perhaps, 
that  the  defences  were  constructed  with  a  view  of  serving 
as  a  point  d'appui  to  one  of  those  local  rebellions  which 
seem  to  have  been  the  order  of  the  day  in  Persia  at  that 
period.  The  governor  excused  himself  by  stating  that  his 
defensive  works  were  meant  only  for  his  own  personal 
protection.  Nadir  Shah  replied,  'While  I  am  living  to 
protect  you,  you  need  not  trouble  yourself  about  your 
enemies,  and  when  I  am  dead,  it  will  be  time  for  you  to  die 
also.'  I  cannot  vouch  for  the  historical  accuracy  of  this 
story.  '  I  give  the  tale  as  told  to  me '  by  the  denizens  of 
Asterabad. 

As  in  most  Eastern  towns,  all  the  animation  of  the  place 
is  concentrated  in  the  bazaar ;  the  rest  is  buried  in  hopeless 
dulness  and  dreariness.  There  are  long,  narrow,  ill-paved 
streets,  at  best  but  a  series  of  mud-holes,  hemmed  in  by 
tall  mud-walls,  the  houses,  which  occur  at  intervals,  having 
their  sides  next  the  street,  being  entirely  windowless,  and 
presenting  a  blank  expanse  of  plastered  loam.  Rubbish 
heaps  are  seen  here  and  there,  for  the  offal  and  off-scour- 
ings  of  each  establishment  are  deposited  in  front  of  the 
little  sally-port  door,  right  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  and 
left  to  be  trodden  down  to  a  level  with  the  remainder  of  the 
roadway.  There  is  no  public  functionary  whose  business  it 
is  to  look  after  the  rubbish ;  hence  the  state  of  the  streets 
may  be  better  imagined  than  described.  The  only  redeem- 
ing point  in  the  midst  of  all  this  desolate  loneliness  and  filth 
is  that  the  tall  mud  walls  are  invariably  topped  by  cluster- 


170  PERSIAN  LADIES. 

ing  vine-tendrils,  the  dense  foliage  of  the  chenar,  or  the 
white  blossoms  of  the  almond  and  plum  trees  growing 
within.  The  appearance  of  the  exterior  of  his  house  is  a 
matter  of  secondary  importance  to  an  Oriental ;  it  is  within 
doors  that  he  concentrates  all  that  he  can  afford  of  luxury 
or  elegance,  and  this,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  is  not  much. 
In  these  silent  thoroughfares  one  meets  but  few  persons ; 
most  of  the  inhabitants  are  either  at  the  bazaar  or  within 
their  houses.  The  streets  of  an  Eastern  town  offer  but 
few  attractions  to  an  habitue  of  it.  This  oval  blue  bundle, 
set  on  end,  which  comes  gliding  silently  towards  us,  is  a 
Persian  lady,  wrapped  in  the  all-enveloping  mantle  of  calico 
which  shrouds  her  from  head  to  heel,  and  is  here  styled 
the  feridgi.  From  the  summit  of  her  forehead  hangs 
a  white  linen  veil,  forming  a  point  upon  the  centre  of  her 
breast,  and  concealing  the  face  much  more  effectually  than 
the  modern  yashmak  of  the  Osmanli  Turks,  as  worn  by  the 
fashionable  ladies  of  Constantinople.  The  copious  trousers 
are  gathered  in  at  the  ankle  in  numerous  elongated  plaits, 
and  terminate  in  the  stocking,  which  is  continuous  with  the 
trousers.  These  grooved,  inverted  cones  of  cloth,  seen 
below  the  edge  of  the  feridgi,  give  the  wearer  the  appearance 
of  having  substituted  two  old-fashioned  family  umbrellas 
for  her  legs.  The  high-heeled  slippers  have  just  barely 
enough  of  upper  to  enable  their  owner  to  bear  them  upon  the 
points  of  her  toes.  The  heel,  which  is  placed  nearly  under 
the  centre  of  the  foot,  slaps  up  and  down  at  each  step.  At 
Asterabad,  as  elsewhere  in  Persia,  it  is  only  the  better  class 
of  Persian  ladies  who  veil  themselves.  The  females  of  the 
peasant  and  'working  classes  make  no  attempt  to  conceal 
their  features,  but,  should  a  man  happen  to  be  in  conver- 
sation with  one  of  them,  he  invariably,  as  a  matter  of 
etiquette,  keeps  his  face  half  averted,  and  his  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  ground. 


BAZAAR.  171 

The  bazaar  consists  of  a  labyrinth  of  narrow  streets, 
lined  on  each  side  with  the  booths  of  the  traders  and 
artizans.  These  booths,  or  shops,  as  I  suppose  some  of 
them  must  be  called,  are  merely  square  recesses,  eight  or 
ten  feet  wide,  and  as  many  deep,  only  separated  from  the 
street  by  a  kind  of  step-like  platform  of  wood  or  stone,  on 
which  the  dealer  arranges  the  commodities  he  has  for  sale, 
and  behind  which  he  sits,  cross-legged,  as  a  rule  smoking 
the  scarcely  ever  unlighted  kalioun.  All  those  of  one 
business  or  trade  have  a  separate  street  or  quarter  to  them* 
selves.  The  more  numerous  are  the  grocers,  or  general 
dealers,  whose  booths  seem  to  be  furnished  with  every 
imaginable  article  of  which  the  inhabitants  stand  in  need. 
In  addition  to  the  orthodox  tea,  coffee,  sugar,  rice,  and 
spices,  they  also  sell  ink,  paper,  percussion  caps,  bullets, 
iron  small-shot,  gunpowder,  brass  drinking  cups,  salt, 
knives,  sulphate  of  iron,  pomegranate  rind,  alum  for  dyeing 
purposes,  and  an  infinite  variety  of  other  articles.  Turning 
a  corner,  we  come  into  an  alley  where  ropes  suspended  from 
housetop  to  housetop  support  numberless  curtains  of  deep 
blue  and  olive  green  calico.  This  is  the  quarter  of  the 
dyers,  who  seem  to  be,  in  point  of  number,  the  strongest 
after  the  bakhals,  or  grocers.  They  are  to  be  seen  working 
at  their  great  indigo  troughs,  clad  only  in  a  dark-tinted 
waistband  and  skull-cap,  their  arms,  up  to  the  elbows, 
being  of  as  dark  a  blue  as  the  calico  which  hangs  outside. 
A  little  further  on,  towards  the  outskirts  of  the  bazaar,  are 
the  vendors  of  fruit  and  vegetables,  whose  leeks  and  lettuces, 
spread  in  front  of  their  booths,  are  a  constant  temptation  to 
the  passing  camels  and  horses.  More  than  once  I  have  had 
to  pay  for  the  escapades  of  my  horse  in  snatching  up  a 
bunch  of  spring  onions  and  incontinently  devouring  it  under 
the  nose  of  the  merchant.  There  were  great  basketsful  of 
pomegranates  and  oranges,  for  Asterabad  and  its  neighbour- 


172  METAL   WORKERS. 

hood  are  famous  for  both  these  fruits,  especially  for  the 
mandarin  orange.  Our  ordinary  orange  is  known  as  the 
Portugal,  while  the  naranj  is  quite  as  sour  as  any  lemon, 
and  takes  the  place  of  that  fruit  in  cookery  or  with  tea. 
Near  the  centre  of  the  bazaar  is  a  long  street  devoted  to  the 
coppersmiths,  who  manufacture  tea-pots,  saucepans,  and 
cauldrons,  for  almost  every  cooking  utensil  used  in  this  part 
of  Persia  is  of  copper,  tinned  inside,  the  facility  of  working 
copper  more  than  compensating  for  the  extra  price  of  the 
material ;  moreover,  the  old  vessels,  when  worn  out,  can  be 
sold  for  a  price  very  nearly  equal  to  their  cost  when  new. 
Now  and  then  are  to  be  seen  cast-iron  pots  of  Russian 
manufacture,  but  these  are  much  more  in  use  among  the 
Turcomans  of  the  Atterek  than  in  Persian  households. 
These  copper  utensils  are  wrought  by  hand,  and  the  din  of 
hammering  which  salutes  the  ear  as  one  enters  the  parti- 
cular quarter  of  the  smiths  is  perfectly  deafening.  By  sheer 
force  of  hammering  upon  peculiar  knob-like  anvils,  the 
bottomed  cylinder  of  copper,  three  quarters  of  an  inch  in 
thickness,  is  made  to  expand  to  the  most  formidable  dimen- 
sions. When  finished,  it  is  placed  upon  the  fire,  heated  to 
dull  redness,  and  a  lump  of  tin  is  rubbed  round  its  inside. 
In  this  street  there  is  one  particular  spot  which  is  set  apart 
for  those  whose  special  occupation  it  is  to  cover  the  insides 
of  pots  and  pans  with  tin.  Then  there  are  the  gunsmiths 
and  sword  makers,  who  live  in  separate,  though  adjacent 
quarters.  Here  one  may  see  every  stage  of  the  manufacture 
of  a  musket  or  rifle,  from  the  forging  of  the  barrel  to  the 
rude  process  for  grooving  it,  and  the  fashioning  of  lock, 
stock,  &c,  all  by  the  same  workman.  Asterabad  enjoys  a 
certain  renown  in  Persia  for  the  manufacture  of  gun-locks, 
and  I  have  heard  of  a  detachment  of  the  nondescript  soldiers 
who  constitute  the  bulk  of  the  Persian  army  being  sent  to 
this  town,  with  their  gun-locks  out  of  order,  so  that  they 


FELT  CARPETS.  173 

might  be  repaired.  It  is  a  singular  fact  that,  neither  in 
Persia  nor  among  the  Turcomans,  even  in  the  most  remote 
districts,  does  one  ever  see  a  flint  lock.  They  are  invariably 
percussion.  The  locks  are  evidently  exactly  copied  from 
a  European  model,  even  as  regards  the  very  carving  and 
ornamentation;  they  have  nothing  whatever  Oriental  in 
their  appearance.  The  operations  of  the  dealers  in  swords 
are  generally  confined  to  the  manufacture  of  new  scabbards, 
and  the  rehabilitation  of  old  blades,  for  there  seems  to  be  a 
glut  of  the  latter,  which  has  doubtless  existed  from  time  im- 
memorial in  Persia,  so  that  the  manufacture  of  new  blades  is 
seldom  entered  upon.  There  are  half  a  dozen  booths  in 
which  the  jewellers  and  gold  and  silver  smiths  ply  their 
trades.  They  are  strictly  operatives,  and  do  not  keep  any 
stock  on  hand.  If  you  wish  for  some  article  in  silver  or 
gold,  such  as  a  buckle,  button,  or  sword-mounting,  you 
must,  when  giving  the  order,  supply  the  artist  with  gold  or 
silver  coin,  as  the  case  may  be.  He  melts  this  down,  and 
manufactures  it  into  the  desired  object. 

The  most  important,  and,  indeed,  almost  the  only  exten- 
sive manufacture  carried  on  at  Asterabad,  is  that  of  felt 
carpets  and  mats,  and  the  quarter  occupied  by  the  makers  of 
these  articles  is  one  of  the  largest  in  the  bazaar.  I  had 
noticed  the  excellence  of  the  felt  in  use  among  the  Turcomans 
of  Erasnavodsk  and  Tchikislar,  and  had  purchased  several 
carpets  of  that  material  for  use  in  my  own  kibitka.  Until 
I  came  to  Asterabad  I  was  sorely  puzzled  as  to  the  process 
by  which  this  material  was  manufactured,  but  there  I  had 
ample  means  of  informing  myself  upon  the  subject.  Instead 
of  being  mere  rectangular  spaces,  opening  off  the  thorough- 
fare, each  felt  maker's  quarters  consisted  of  a  room  twenty 
to  thirty  feet  in  length  by  about  fifteen  in  breadth,  with 
either  a  boarded  floor  or  one  of  perfectly  level  beaten 
earth  or  cement.    The  raw  material — a  mixture  of  camel 


174  PROCESS  OF  MANUFACTURE. 

and  goat  hair  and  sheep's  wool  well  beaten  up  together,  and 
varying  in  proportions  accordingly  as  the  felt  was  intended 
to  be  dark  brown  or  white — was  laid  in  a  loose  layer  about 
four  inches  in  thickness  upon  a  closely  woven  mat  of  fine 
reeds,  somewhat  larger  than  the  piece  of  felt  was  intended 
to  be.  This  was  then  beaten  down  with  heavy,  flat  pieces 
of  wood,  until  it  was  reduced  to  half  its  original  thickness, 
and  had  assumed  a  compact  texture.  The  ornamentation, 
generally  consisting  of  arabesques  and  rude  flowers  of 
different  brilliant  colours,  was  put  on  by  loosely  spun 
worsted  thread,  which  was  laid  by  the  hand  in  the  required 
form.  A  strong,  warm  mixture  of  size  and  water  was  then 
copiously  sprinkled  over  the  whole,  and  the  layer  of  felt 
material,  together  with  the  reed  mat,  rolled  concentrically 
into  a  cylindrical  form.  In  such  guise  the  matting  inter- 
vened between  the  layers  of  felt.  The  whole  was  then 
bound  tightly  with  cords,  and  three  or  four  men,  placing 
their  right  feet  naked  upon  it,  all  pressing  simultaneously, 
rolled  it  slowly  and  by  jerks  from  one  end  of  the  apartment 
to  the  other.  As  the  felt  grew  thinner  and  denser,  the  com- 
bination was  rolled  more  and  more  tightly,  being  undone 
from  time  to  time  to  allow  of  a  fresh  saturation  with  size. 
When  the  felt  had  assumed  the  proper .  dimensions,  and 
was  considered  to  be  sufficiently  kneaded  together,  it  was 
spread  out  in  the  sun  to  dry,  the  coloured  pattern  being 
thoroughly  incorporated  with  the  substance  of  the  newly- 
formed  carpet.  The  solidity  and  durability  of  this  felt  is 
wonderful,  as  I  have  been  able  to  judge  from  having  used  a 
square  of  it  as  a  saddle  cloth  for  over  twelve  months  without 
its  in  any  way  showing  a  breakage,  or,  even  when  exposed  to 
heavy  rain,  becoming  undone  or  at  all  loosened  in  the 
texture. 

The  main  central  streets  of  the  bazaar  are  roofed  over 
with  brick  groining,  which  has  holes  in  the  side  of  each 


EASTERN  STORY  TELLER.  175 

cupola  to  admit  light,  but  the  majority  of  them  are  simply 
covered  with  a  sun-screen  composed  of  rude  poles  reaching 
from  the  top  of  one  shop  to  that  of  another  across  the  way, 
and  loosely  thatched  with  reeds  and  small  tree  branches.  In 
some  cases  gourds  and  grape  vines  twine  among  the  rough 
rafters,  the  fruit  hanging  pendulously  above  the  heads  of  the 
passers-by,  and  adding  a  redeeming  feature  of  elegance  to 
the  general  surrounding  uncouthness.    At  street  crossings, 
and  through  gaps  where  this  roofing  has  fallen  away,  the 
blinding  sunlight  pours,  throwing  the  adjacent  portions  of 
the  bazaar  into  comparative  obscurity  by  its  contrast,  and 
causing  its  inhabitants,  half  seen  athwart  the  torrent  of  rays, 
to  look  like  so  many  ghostly  occupants  of  a  haunted  cavern. 
At  the  central  point  of  the  bazaar,  whence  branch  off  the 
main  thoroughfares,   is  almost  always  to  be  found  the 
Eastern  story-teller — generally  a  wandering  dervish.      I 
recollect  seeing  such  a  public  novelist  at  this  point,  seated 
upon    a    door-step,    and    holding    a    numerous  audience 
entranced  by  the  narrative  which  he  was  relating.    He  was 
a  young  man,  of  a  rather  distinguished  type  of  feature,  and 
long,  glossy,  raven  hair  flowed  upon  his  shoulders.    He 
wore  a  large  Tartar  hat  of  black  sheepskin,  carried  a  stout 
staff  of  about  five  feet  in  length,  and  had  his  calabash 
basket,  for  the  reception  of  contributions,  laid  beside  him. 
The  exigencies  of  the  story  seemed  to  require  that  he  should 
have  some  tangible  object  to  address.    He  accordingly  placed 
his  great  sheepskin  tiara  in  the  centre  of  the  roadway,  and 
apostrophised  it  with  the  most  ludicrous  earnestness,  at  the 
same  time  mimicking  the  replies  which  he  was  supposed  to 
receive.    It  was  evidently  a  humorous  story,  for  the  group 
of  idlers  and  small  boys  standing  round,  and  the  merchants 
leaning  over  their  wares,  occasionally  burst  into  loud  and 
prolonged  shouts  of  laughter.    These  dervishes  have  a  never- 
failing  method  of  extracting  money  from  their  listeners. 


176  HISTRIONIC  SKILL. 

Were  the  story  to  be  completed  without  interruption,  the 
receipts  would  probably  be  very  small  indeed,  for  in  this 
regard  a  Persian  is  utterly  unconscientious.  If  he  can  get 
anything  for  nothing  he  will  not  allow  any  feelings  of 
generosity  to  step  in.  The  dervish,  well  knowing  this,  con- 
tinued his  narration  until  he  reached  the  culminating  point 
of  interest,  and  had  wound  up  the  feelings  of  the  audience 
to  the  highest  pitch.  Then,  taking  up  his  calabash,  he 
went  the  round  of  the  crowd,  saying  that  he  required  some 
encouragement  to  enable  him  to  proceed  with  the  wonderful 
sequel  of  his  tale.  His  demand  satisfied,  the  story  was 
proceeded  with.  He  shook  his  stick  at  the  being  that  was 
embodied  in  his  head-dress,  raved  at  it,  implored  it,  and 
ended  by  weeping  over  it.  The  acting  was  of  no  mean  order, 
and  a  story-teller  who  possesses  histrionic  powers  to  any 
creditable  extent  is  always  sure  of  a  crowd  of  eager  listeners, 
no  matter  how  old  or  how  well-known  the  story  which  he 
recounts  may  be,  just  as  we  go  to  the  theatre  to  hear  a 
drama  with  which  we  are  well  acquainted  interpreted  by 
some  celebrated  actor.. 

In  the  streets  of  the  bazaar  are  generally  congregated  a 
dozen  Turcomans  from  the  outlying  villages  along  the 
Giurgen,  endeavouring  to  exchange  sheepskins  against  the 
various  commodities  which  the  Persians  offer  for  sale,  or 
trying  underhand  to  procure  gunpowder  and  percussion 
caps,  for  the  sale  of  these  articles  to  the  nomads  is  strictly 
forbidden  by  the  central  government.  At  the  time  of  which 
I  write,  too,  in  Ghilan  and  Mazanderan,  the  dearth  of 
cereals,  owing  to  a  succession  of  droughts,  was  so  great  as 
almost  to  amount  to  a  famine.  Owing  to  this  fact,  horses 
were  being  sold  at  almost  nominal  prices,  their  owners 
finding  it  impossible  to  maintain  them,  in  consequence  of 
the  ruinous  price  of  corn.  The  Turcomans  also  suffered 
by  reason  of  this  dearth  in  Persia,  for  as  a  rule  they 


TURCOMANS  AND  ASTERABAD.  177 

cultivate  but  little  themselves,  or  at  least  did  up  to  that 
time.  They  derived  nearly  the  whole  of  their  supply  of 
rice  from  the  North  Persian  provinces.  Owing  to  the 
existing  state  of  affairs,  the  Persian  Government  had  issued 
a  strict  order  forbidding  the  exportation  of  rice  or  corn  of 
any  kind,  having  an  eye,  no  doubt,  to  the  very  large 
demands  made  by  the  Russian  Commissariat  at  Tchikislar, 
which  if  complied  with  would  create  a  severe  artificial 
famine  in  those  districts  where  there  was  already  danger  of  .  / 
a  natural  one.  Though  the  Turcomans  south  of  the  ) 
Giurgen  river  acknowledge  the  government  of  the  Shah, 
and  pay  an  annual  tax  of  one  toman — equivalent  to  about 
ten  francs — on  each  house,  these  wild  subjects  of  Persia 
were  included  among  those  to  whom  corn  was  forbidden  to 
be  supplied.  I  have  seen  a  Turcoman  from  the  plains,  who 
came  to  buy  rice  for  the  support  of  his  family,  and  who  had 
been  refused  by  the  merchant,  standing  in  the  middle  of 
the  street,  calling  down  all  kinds  of  curses  on  the  rice- 
dealer's  head,  and  consigning  him,  his  predecessors,  and 
his  posterity,  to  Gehennum.  It  seemed  hard  that  this 
Turcoman  should  be  obliged  to  return  to  his  family  unable 
to  procure  for  them  the  food  necessary  for  their  daily  sub- 
sistence, but  he  and  his  fellows  who  were  then  refused  were 
to  a  great  extent  to  blame  for  the  predicament  in  which 
they  found  themselves.  Most  of  these  partially-settled 
Turcomans  who  dwell  along  the  Atterek  and  Giurgen  rivers 
usually  lay  in  at  harvest  time,  when  prices  are  lowest,  a 
stock  of  rice  and  other  grain  sufficient  to  last  them  during 
the  ensuing  twelve  months.  Tempted  by  the  high  prices 
given  in  th6  Russian  camp,  large  numbers  had  disposed  of 
their  stock,  thinking  that  they  could  replace  it  in  the 
Persian  markets.  Indeed,  for  a  length  of  time  many 
Turcomans  thus  carried  on  an  extensive  trade,  acting  as 
middlemen  between  the  Persians  and  the  Russians.  It  was 
vol.  1.  n 


V 


178  PRECA  UTIONS— PILGRIMS. 

probably  with  a  thorough  knowledge  of  these  circumstances 
that  the  Kargusar,  or  agent  of  the  Minister  for  Foreign 
Affairs  at  Asterabad,  had  issued  the  stringent  orders  the 
effects  of  which  I  had  seen  in  the  bazaar. 

The  Turcomans  frequenting  Asterabad  generally  come 
to  the  town  fully  armed — sabre  at  side,  poniard  in  belt,  and 
double-barrelled  gun  at  back,  permission  being  accorded  to 
/"  them  to  enter  the  town  thus  equipped  probably  in  recogni- 
tion of  the  fact  that  they  are  subjects  of  the  Shah.  In 
other  border  Persian  towns  further  to  the  east,  and  fre- 
quented on  market  days  by  the  Tekk6s,  the  latter  were 
obliged  to  leave  their  swords  and  guns  with  the  guard  at 
the  gate  of  the  town,  retaining  only  the  poniard,  or  more 
strictly  speaking  the  knife,  which  the  Turcoman  rarely  parts 
with.  The  throng  was  occasionally  varied  by  the  grave, 
•stately  form  of  a  Baghdad  muleteer,  with  his  diadem-like 
bead-dress  of  twisted  camel-hair  over  the  sombre-tinted 
mantle  which  protects  his  head  from  the  sun  and  weather 
and  envelopes  his  whole  person.  These  Arabs  do  not 
generally  come  so  far  northward,  but  on  this  occasion  were 
probably  on  their  way  to  the  Russian  camp. 

Whenever  a  pilgrim  returns  from  one  of  the  holy 
places — from  Mecca,  Kerbela,  Meshed,  or  Kufa,  he  takes 
care  to  make  the  world  aware  of  his  newly-acquired  sanctity. 
He  rides  through  the  bazaar  and  other  public  places,  a  crier 
preceding  him  and  announcing  the  fact  that  a  pilgrim  has 
returned  to  his  native  city.  Even  women,  unaccompanied, 
though  closely  veiled,  thus  proceed  in  triumph  through  the 
public  places,  and  though  the  sight  is  one  of  pretty  frequent 
occurrence,  it  seems  always  to  attract  a  crowd  of  lookers-on. 

Among  other  curious  Persian  customs  is  the  mode  of 
expressing  grief  for  the  death  of  a  friend  or  relative. 
Theoretically,  the  grieving  one  should  tear  hiB  clothes,  and 
bare  and  throw  dust  upon  his  head  in  true  Oriental  fashion ; 


PERSIAN  MOURNING— OLD  PALACE.  179 

but  as  most  Persians  are  not  in  a  position  to  treat  their 
garments  in  this  manner,  or,  if  in  such  a  position,  are  by  no 
means  disposed  to  do  so,  they  confine  themselves  to  a  very 
limited  and  representative  kind  of  rending.  A  seam  at  the 
shoulder  is  carefully  ripped  open  to  the  extent  of  an  inch, 
or  an  inch  and  a  half,  and  perhaps  the  end  of  the  collar  of 
the  shirt  is  slightly  undone,  so  that  a  small  tongue  of  lineL 
may  protrude  in  front,  and  thus  convey  to  the  beholder  that, 
although  the  tearing  is  little  more  than  metaphorical,  still 
custom  has  been  complied  with,  to  however  slight  an  extent. 
Near  the  centre  of  Asterabad  stands  the  old  Eadjar 
Palace,  where  the  Turkish  family  of  that  name  once  held 
their  Court.  At  the  time  of  my  visit  it  was  mainly  occupied 
by  the  Persian  Governor  of  the  town,  by  various  Govern- 
ment officers,  and  by  the  Persian  and  Russian  telegraphic 
bureaux— the  latter  in  direct  communication  with  the  camp 
at  Tchikislar.  Since  then,  however,  the  Russian  rights  in 
the  telegraph  line,  with  all  its  material  and  apparatus,  have 
been  handed  over  to  the  Persian  Government.1  According 
to  an  agreement  drawn  up  between  the  two  Governments, 
the  Persian  messages  were  all  despatched  between  sunrise 
and  sunset,  the  Russians  having  the  exclusive  use  of  the 
wire  to  Teheran  and  Tabriz  during  the  night.  For  a  place 
like  Asterabad  this  old  palace  is  one  of  considerable 
pretensions.  It  is  built  of  large  flat  baked  brick,  of  a 
reddish-brown  colour,  itt*  porticos  being  supported  with 
carved  and  painted  oak  pillars.  The  walls  of  the  main 
building  and  those  of  the  inner  courtyard  are  covered  with 
finely-enamelled  tiles,  a  foot  square,  ornamented  with 
arabesques,  inscriptions,  and  pictorial  illustrations  of  that 
never-failing  theme  of  Persian  art,  the  adventures  of 
Rustam,  and  his  final  combat  with  and  conquest  of  the  Div 

1  This  was  on  account  of  the  laying  of  the  Baku-KrasnaYodsk  cable, 
gave  Russia  independent  trans-Caspian  communications  of  her  own. 

x  3 


180  DEFACING  OF  WALLS. 

Sefid,  a  theme  drawn  from  Persian  mythology,  and  which 
seems  as  a  rule  to  be  the  sole  subject  which  can  inspire  a 
Persian  pencil.  Persians  certainly  have  not  that  abhor- 
rence of  representations  of  living  creatures  which  seems  so 
universal  among  the  Sunnites,  for  not  only  at  the  Kadjar 
Palace  of  Asterabad,  but  on  the  panels  and  over  the  door 
of  every  cafe  and  bath,  as  well  as  on  the  lintels  of  the  very 
mosques,  are  to  be  seen  depicted  in  gaudy  colours,  if  -not 
this  same  story  of  Bustam  and  the  Div  Sefid,  other  human 
figures,  both  male  and  female,  the  wine-cup  being  no  in- 
frequent addition  to  the  picture.  There  are  great  water 
tanks,  fifty  or  sixty  yards  in  length,  girt  with  stone  para- 
pets, Lnd  with  what  were  once  TounSns  in  their  Jidst ; 
and  enclosed  within  the  walls  of  the  establishment  are  large 
spaces,  once,  I  understand,  superb  gardens,  and  '  still  where 
many  a  garden  flower  grows  wild.'  With  the  exception, 
however,  of  a  few  neglected  rose-bushes  and  some  orange 
trees,  there  is  little  to  be  seen  within  these  walls  save 
weedy  growths  and  tangled  sedge  struggling  amid  the  dense 
brambles.  I  regret  to  say  that  the  desire  for  encaustic 
tiles,  and  the  '  blue  china '  mania  in  general,  have  wrought 
sad  havoc  with  the  decoration  of  this  historic  edifice.  Here 
and  there  the  walls  had  been  stripped  of  their  ornamental 
coverings,  and  the  white  plaster  in  which  they  were  em- 
bedded stared  in  an  unsightly  manner  beside  half  the  head 
of  Bustam  and  the  tail  of  the  Div  Sefid.  On  inquiry  I  was 
informed,  I  do  not  know  with  what  truth,  that  this  spolia- 
tion was  the  work  of  the  Russian  telegraph  employes,  who 
had  forwarded  the  tiles  for  sale  in  Bussia ;  but  I  have  no 
doubt  that  the  Persians  themselves,  hearing  that  such 
things  were  eagerly  sought  for  in  Teheran  and  Europe,  and 
fetched  handsome  prices,  had  done  their  share  of  the  de- 
struction. When  I  first  saw  the  old  palace,  only  a  few  of 
the  tiles  had  been  removed.     Six  months  later,  when  I 


ANCIENT  POTTERY.  181 

again  visited  it,  the  enamelled  panels  were  hopelessly  dis- 
figured and  broken  up.  Should  the  devastation  have  gone 
on  at  the  same  rate  ever  since,  but  little  can  remain  of  this 
ancient  example  of  early  Persian  art.  A  propos  of  this,  the 
blue  china  and  Eeramic  craze  had  taken  fast  root  in 
Asterabad  among  its  European  inhabitants,  and  what  I 
was  informed  were  priceless  specimens  of  early  Persian 
pottery  were  unearthed  by  the  enthusiasts  from  the  for- 
gotten closets  and  dusty  shelves  of  inhabitants  in  the 
possession  of  whose  families  they  had  remained  for  many 
centuries. 

The  peculiarity  of  this  Persian  pottery  is  that,  while 
it  has  all  the  external  appearance  of  the  finest  porcelain,  it 
is  really  composed  of  delicate  brown  earthenware,  somewhat 
resembling  hardened  Soman  cement,  and  covered  upon  the 
outside  with  a  thick  creamy  glaze.  Some  of  the  plates  and 
dishes  of  large  size  present,  on  a  white  ground,  patterns  in 
that  beautiful  blue  tint  so  much  admired  by  the  '  maniacs ' 
at  home,  but  the  tinting  is  by  no  means  confined  to  this 
colour.  There  is  a  peculiar  kind  of  bottle,  closely  resem- 
bling in  form  those  Indian  water-bottles  of  porous  clay,  but 
of  slenderer  neck  and  far  more  graceful  form,  the  body  often 
presenting  a  series  of  lobe-like  divisions  similar  to  those  of 
a  peeled  orange.  These  generally  have  that  golden,  purple, 
or  amber  gleam,  with  prismatic  colours  when  seen  obliquely, 
which  is  known  to  the  initiated  as  reflet  metallique.  The 
colours  seen  when  the  surface  is  viewed  by  reflected  light 
are  exactly  similar  to  those  observed  on  the  surface  of  still 
water  over  which  is  spread  a  slight  film  of  tar.  Some  of 
these  bottles  are  reputed  to  be  of  great  age,  dating  back,  it 
is  averred,  over  eight  hundred  years.  This  conclusion  is 
arrived  at  from  the  position  and  nature  of  the  sites  from 
amidst  which  they  were  dug  up.  The  art  of  producing 
this  delicate  Eeramic  ware  is  now  entirely  lost  in  Persia, 


i8a  CASHIS— REFLET  M&TALUQUE. 

the  native  pottery  of  to-day  being  of  the  rudest  and  coarsest 
description.  The  plates  and  dishes  in  use  among  the  better 
class  of  Persians  are  either  of  silver,  tinned  copper,  or 
porcelain  imported  direct  from  Russia  or  China.  Some 
two  or  three  centuries  ago  an  effort  was  made  to  revive  the 
art  of  manufacturing  earthenware  similar  to  the  ancient 
specimens,  and  artists,  invited  from  China,  established 
themselves  at  Cashan.  At  their  manufactory  were  pro- 
duced the  later  specimens  of  finer  Persian  earthenware, 
particularly  the  large  dishes  with  the  deep  blue  pattern 
which  I  have  mentioned  above,  and  which  are  known  to 
the  inhabitants  by  the  name  of  Cashi*.  These  artists,  not 
receiving  due  encouragement,  returned  to  China,  taking 
with  them  the  secret  of  the  glaze  with  which  they  concealed 
the  roughness  of  the  material  forming  the  basis  of  the 
articles  which  they  produced.  There  is  some  difference  of 
opinion  as  to  the  nature  of  this  reflet  metattique,  so  much 
admired  by  collectors.  Some  will  have  it  that  the  peculiar 
prismatic  effect  and  golden  tints  were  intentional,  and 
knowingly  produced  by  the  artist,  while  on  the  other  hand 
there  are  those  who  maintain  that  it  is  the  result  of  de- 
composition of  the  silicates  contained  in  the  glaze,  just  as 
we  see  prismatic  colours  produced  upon  old  lachrymatories 
and  other  ancient  vessels  taken  from  Roman  and  Etruscan 
tombs.  I  have  seen  an  example  of  Cashis  which  seemed 
to  support  this  latter  theory.  It  was  in  the  possession  of 
Mr.  Churchill,  the  then  British  Consul  at  Asterabad,  who 
had  purchased  it  in  the  place  itself.  It  was  a  large  flat 
dish,  nearly  two  feet  in  diameter,  and  of  a  brownish  amber 
tint.  Some  irregular  dashes  of  deep  grass-green  colour 
served  as  ornamentation,  and  on  viewing  its  surface 
obliquely  I  could  distinctly  perceive  that  where  the  brown 
and  green  colours  touched,  there  were  irregular  streaks  of 
reflet  mitallique,  so  distributed  that  it  was  quite  impossible 


WILD  BOARS.  183 

they  should  have  been  intended  as  part  of  the  general 
decorative  effect.  I  give  this  example  for  what  it  is  worth, 
as  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  an  expert  in  these  matters. 

I  have  already  alluded  to  the  wild  boars  which  penetrate 
within  the  walls  of  the  town.  They  occur  in  extraordinary 
numbers  in  the  surrounding  country,  and,  looking  from  the 
ramparts  over  the  adjoining  fields  of  springing  rice  and 
corn,  one  sees  them  dotted  at  intervals  of  eight  or  ten  feet 
with  the  large  black  heaps  where  the  boars  have  been  at 
work,  rooting  up  the  soil.  One  might  imagine  that  a 
detachment  of  sappers  had  been  engaged  in  throwing  up  a 
series  of  rifle  pits,  or  that  the  ground  had  been  subjected 
to  a  heavy  plunging  fire  of  shells.  Such  is  the  devastation 
produced  by  the  wild  boars  and  their  broods  that  it  is 
found  worth  while  to  maintain  a  body  of  professional 
hunters,  whose  sole  occupation  is  to  destroy  these  animals. 
Enormous  quantities  are  killed  annually,  but  their  numbers 
do  not  appear  to  be  perceptibly  lessened.  The  inhabitants 
never  on  any  account  make  use  of  the  flesh  of  the  boar  as 
food,  being  in  this  respect  unlike  the  Sunnite  Turcomans, 
who  will  sometimes  eat  boar's  flesh,  though  they  do  not 
like  to  do  so  openly  on  all  occasions.  While  at  Asterabad 
I  observed  an  amusing  instance  of  the  aversion  with  which 
the  flesh  of  the  boar  is  regarded  by  the  Shiia  Persians. 
Mr.  Churchill,  whose  kind  hospitality  I  was  at  the  time 
enjoying,  was  exceedingly  desirous  of  obtaining  some  wild 
boar's  flesh,  but  though  he  made  repeated  attempts  to 
induce  the  hunters  to  bring  him  a  quarter  of  one  of  the 
animals  which  they  were  killing  every  day,  he  could  not 
succeed.  At  length,  however,  a  hunter  specially  retained 
by  himself  to  furnish  him  with  game  of  different  kinds 
agreed  that  as  soon  as  he  had  shot  a  boar  within  a  reason- 
able distance  of  the  town  he  would  give  notice  to  that  effect 
immediately,  so  that  a  portion  of  it  might  be  secured  before 


184  A   COOK'S  PROTEST. 

the  jackals  discovered  and  devoured  the  carcass.    By  these 
means  a  head,  a  couple  of  hams,  and  other  portions  of  the 
animal  were  procured,  and  were  conveyed  with  the  greatest 
secresy  to  the  Consulate.    The  cook,   by  dint  of  lavish 
bribery,  had  been  persuaded  to  prepare  some  of  the  flesh, 
but  he  only  undertook  to  do  so  on  condition  of  the  affair 
being  kept  a  profound  secret  between  himself  and  the 
Consul.      However,   his  fellow-servants  by  some    means 
discovered  that  wild  boar  was  being  cooked  in  the  house, 
and  at  once  entered  a  protest,  and  one  day  the  whole  of 
them,  including  the  cook,  appeared  in  a  body  before  Mr. 
Churchill,  and  respectfully  begged  to  state  that  they  could 
no  longer  remain  in  the  house.     The  cook  said  that  as  he 
passed  through  the  bazaars  he  was  scornfully  pointed  out 
and  jeered  at  by  the  merchants  and  passers-by  as  a  cooker 
of  boar's  flesh,  that  his  life  was  miserable,  that  even  his  own 
family  avoided  him,  and  that  he  could  not  endure  such 
suffering.     A  compromise  was  arrived  at,  and  the  cook  and 
other  servants  agreed  to  remain   on  condition  that  the 
object  of  their  abhorrence,  the  remaining  boar's  flesh,  be 
immediately    thrown    out,   which  was  accordingly  done. 
This  will  give  some  idea  of  the  intense  religious  prejudices 
of  these  people.     Yet  these   very   servants,   who  are  so 
scrupulous  in  the  matter  of  adhering  to  Koranic  diet,  are 
in  other  matters,  such  as  cheating  their  employers  in  the 
most  egregious  and  bare-faced  manner,  influenced  by  no 
scruple  whatsoever.      Neither   are   they  virtuous  in  the 
matter  of  intoxicating  drinks,  for  a  Persian,  of  this  or  any 
other  class,  will  drink  himself  into  a  state  of  blind  inebria- 
tion on  every  possible  occasion,  although  the  consumption 
of  these  liquors  is  quite  as  much  at  variance  with  the 
teaching    of    Mahomet    as    the    eating    of  the  flesh   of 
'  unclean '  animals.     A  Persian  servant  does  not  as  a  rule 
ask  high  wages,  forty  francs  per  month  being  considered 


PERSIAN  SERVANTS,  18$ 

fair  average  pay ;  but  he  counts  upon  at  least  doubling  this 
sum  by  illicit  gains  and  fraudulent  transactions  in  the 
market.  It  is  vain  to  imagine  that  such  robbery  can  be 
avoided*  In  Persia  it  is  entirely  infra  dig.  for  a  European 
of  any  standing  to  make  his  own  purchases  at  a  bazaar, 
and  even  if  he  did  so  he  would  infallibly  be  cheated  by  the 
merchant,  as  he  cannot  possibly  be  aware  of  the  fluctuations 
in  the  prices  of  the  articles  which  he  requires.  The  servant 
and  the  shopkeeper  conspire  to  make  an  overcharge,  the 
extra  profit  thus  obtained  being  divided  between  them. 
The  latter  individual  dares  not  refuse  this  arrangement,  as 
in  such  a  case  the  servant  would  carry  his  custom  else- 
where. The  same  system  is  adopted  in  the  purchase  of 
oats  and  fodder  for  horses,  and  in  every  other  imaginable 
matter  in  which  the  Persian  servant  has  the  handling  of 
the  smallest  amount  of  money.  Apart  from  their  thievish- 
ness,  Persian  servants  are,  as  a  rule,  exceedingly  insolent, 
unless  they  be  kept  within  proper  bounds  with  a  strong 
hand.  The  use  of  the  stick  as  a  punishment  for  dishonesty 
and  disobedience  is  a  matter  of  every-day  necessity 
throughout  Persia,  and  the  castigation  is  technically  known 
among  the  culprits  as  '  eating  the  sticks.' 

While  staying  at  Asterabad,  I  met  with  an  interesting 
personage — the  great-grandson  of  the  celebrated  Nadir 
Shah,  the  last  monarch  who  ruled  over  old  Persia  in  its 
entirety,  from  Candahar  to  Tiflis,  and  from  the  Persian 
Gulf  to' the  Oxus.  The  Shah  Zade,  or  prince,  as  this 
gentleman  was  entitled,  was  between  sixty  and  seventy 
years  of  age,  and  of  a  remarkably  truculent  expression  of 
countenance.  His  vast  forehead,  widening  towards  the  top, 
and  receding  markedly,  his  pointed  hooked  nose,  arched 
near  the  brow,  and  his  small,  cruel  grey  eyes,  gave  him, 
I  was  told,  a  very  strong  resemblance  to  his  renowned 
ancestor.    Like  all  the  other  Shah  Zades  in  Persia,  and 


186  A  SHAH  ZAD&— SUPERSTITIONS. 

their  name  is  legion,  whose  descent  from  a  former  sovereign 
is  well  authenticated  and  indubitable,  Zenghis  Mirza  was 
in  receipt  of  a  pension  from  the  Shah  amounting  to  the 
munificent  sum  of  sixty  tomans,  or  242.  sterling,  per  annum. 
This  was  given  in  recognition  of  his  real  descent.  The 
amount  does  not  strike  a  European  as  being  large,  but  a 
native  Persian  in  a  provincial  town  can  subsist  comfortably 
upon  it.  Besides  this  allowance  to  the  Shah  Zades,  care  is 
taken  to  provide  them  with  Government  employment  of 
one  kind  or  another,  generally  as  chiefs  of  telegraphic 
bureaux.  When  I  was  at  Asterabad,  the  chief  of  the 
telegraph  station  there  was  another  Shah  Zad6,  a  grand- 
son, if  I  do  not  mistake,  of  Feth  Ali  Shah.  I  afterwards 
met  with  another  descendant  of  Nadir  Shah,  a  Shah  Zade 
named  Daoud  Mirza,  who  was  one  of  the  principal  officials 
in  the  Meshed  telegraph  office.  This  title  of  Mirza,  when 
used  as  a  suffix,  means  *  prince,'  but  when  placed  before 
the  name  simply  signifies  a  secretary,  or  scribe.  The 
derivation  of  the  name,  as  I  am  informed,  is  Emir  Zade, 
or  '  son  of  prince/  Why  it  should  be  applied  as  a  prefix 
to  the  name  of  a  secretary  it  is  difficult  to  say ;  perhaps  it 
is  because  in  the  days  when  the  title  originated  only  such 
regal  persons  were  supposed  to  possess  the  accomplishments 
of  reading  and  writing.  This,  however,  is  only  a  hypothesis 
of  my  own. 

The  inhabitants  of  Asterabad  hold  the  peculiar  belief 
that  the  bread  made  in  the  town  exercises  an  intoxicating 
influence  upon  strangers;  and  there  are  trees  standing 
beside  one  of  the  numerous  streams  which  traverse  the 
town — centennial  chenars  (lime  trees),  with  great  branch- 
ing roots  arching  the  channel,  which  are  supposed  to 
bewitch  the  individual  who  stands  under  their  spreading 
boughs  after  the  sun  has  set.  Half-witted  people  are 
pointed  out  among  the  population,  and  the  Asterabadi  will 


OUTSKIRTS  OF  ASTERABAD.  187 

tell  yon,  with  a  grave  shake  of  the  head,  that  '  that  is  what 
comes  of  standing  under  such-and-such  a  tree  after  night- 
fall/ 

The  outskirts  of  Asterabad  are  eminently  fertile,  and 
highly  cultivated,  especially  to  the  south  and  west.  The 
water-supply  is  copious,  for  perennial  streams  flow  from  the 
huge  mass  of  the  Elburz  mountains,  which,  rearing  their 
terraces  height  over  height  deep  into  the  blue  sky  of  Persia, 
and  clothed  high  up  their  slopes  with  a  dense  forest  growth, 
form  a  picturesque  background.  These  woods,  which 
even  in  the  plain  leading  to  the  base  of  the  mountains, 
mingle  largely  with  the  cultivated  ground,  abound  with 
every  kind  of  game,  pheasants  especially ;  and  the  ahou,  or 
mountain  antelope,  often  strays  from  his  craggy  abode,  par- 
ticularly during  the  winter,  when  snow  covers  the  herbage. 
To  the  west  of  the  town,  and  connected  with  it  by  long  lines 
of  ramparts  enclosing  a  triangular  space  three  quarters  of 
a  mile  in  length,  is  a  steep,  artificially  terraced  hill — some 
work  of  fortification  reared  in  past  ages  to  dominate  and 
protect  the  large  watercourse  which,  flowing  from  the  hills, 
joins  the  Eara-Su.  It  is  ordinarily  the  camping  place  lor 
the  Persian  troops  when,  as  is  usually  the  case,  a  consider- 
able force  garrisons  Asterabad.  From  the  summit  of  this 
mound  a  magnificent  view  of  the  plains  ^stretching  north 
and  east  is  obtained — a  vast,  violet-grey  sea  of  dreamland, 
with  mingled  zones  of  ethereal  orange  and  azure,  its 
horizon  mounting  to  meet  the  vaguely  tinted  sky  that 
hangs  over  it;  the  home  of  mystery,  replete  with  the 
memory  of  colossal  events  in  the  history  of  the  human  race ; 
across  which  have  swept  the  hordes  of  Zengfais  and  of 
Timour,  and  doubtless  many  another  army,  in  the  dim  old 
prehistoric  days.  Even  as  I  gazed,  an  army  was  marching 
serosa  these  expanses  towards  the  east — the  reflux  of  the 
tide  of  nations  that  had  so  long  set  westward. 


188  AN  EXPLANA  TION. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

FROM  ASTEBABAD   TO  GUMUSH  TEp£ — A  PERSIAN 

MILITARY  OAMP. 

Persians  and  Turcomans — Mutual  opinion — Persian  fortified  villages — Jungle- 
Depredations  of  wild  boars—  Former  cultivation — Possibilities  of  irrigation 
— Turbi,  or  saint's  tomb — Persian  entrenched  camp  of  Ah  Imam — The 
Kara-Su — Ancient  bridge — Inferior  Persian  armament  and  uniforms — 
Conversation  of  Mustapha  Khan  about  Tekkes — Description  of  former — 
Veli  Khan  and  his  Mirza — Camp  music  and  muezzim* — Persian  physician 
— Mediaeval  ideas— Absurd  conversations — Position  of  Australia — Afghan 
troopers — II  Geldi  Khan — Dangers  in  jungle — Tea,  water-pipes,  and  chess 
— Interfluvial  cone — General  insecurity — Turcomans'  opinion  about  Geok 
Tepe — Giurgen  river — Arrival  at  Gumush  Tepe. 

Banished  from  the  camp  at  Tchikislar,  I  had  come  to 
Asterabad  in  order  to  be  within  reach  of  the  Kussian  columns, 
and  to  have  it  in  my  power  to  know  what  was  happening 
from  time  to  time  at  the  former  place.  Various  rumours 
of  unusual  activity  on  the  part  of  the  Tekke  Turcomans 
reached  me,  pud  though,  owing  to  the  hospitality  of  Mr. 
Churchill,  I  was,  exceedingly  comfortable  at  Asterabad,  I 
resolved  to  move  out  into  the  plain  between  the  Atterek  and 
Sumbar  rivers  as  far  as  Gumush  Tep6,  a  point  which 
would  afford  me  many  facilities  for  ascertaining  what  was 
occurring  within  the  Kussian  lines.  Travelling  over  the 
intermediate  country  was  rather  a  ticklish  undertaking,  in 
consequence  of  the  near  proximity  of  Tekke  raiders,  who 
pushed  boldly  forward  towards  the  sea-board,  and  of  the 
never  over-scrupulous  parties  of  Turcomans  of  various 
tribes,  camped  and  wandering,  between  the  Atterek  and  the 
Giurgen. 


PERSIANS  AND   TURCOMANS.  189 

It  was  an  hour  after  sunrise  as  I  rode  through  the 
bazaar  on  my  way  to  the  northern  town  gate.  Early  as 
was  the  hour,  every  one  was  astir  and  about  his  daily 
business,  for  the  Persians  are  not  morning  sleepers,  though 
they  make  up  for  their  rising  betimes  by  abandoning  work 
at  two  or  three  in  the  afternoon,  after  which  hour  the 
bazaar  is  deserted  and  silent.  Outside  the  gate,  watering 
their  horses  at  the  stream  which  flows  out  of  the  town  by  a 
subterranean  issue  under  the  wall,  were  some  dozens  of 
Persians  and  Turcomans,  all  armed  to  the  teeth,  and 
evidently  not  over-confident  in  each  other.  At  a  distance 
of  a  mile  out  in  the  plain  they  would  be  far  from  associating 
so  closely.  Even  the  Persian  soldiers  have  an  exceeding 
dread  of  the  denizens  of  the  kibitkas  along  the  Giurgen.  A 
Persian  officer,  who  was  evidently  above  the  ordinary  pre- 
judices of  his  class,  once  said  to  me  that  with  equal  forces  r 
the  Turcomans  were  always  perfectly  certain  of  victory  when 
fighting  with  the  soldiers  of  the  Shah.  The  Turcomans 
are  far  from  having  so  mean  an  opinion  of  themselves  as  J 
this  officer  entertained  of  his  comrades-in-arms.  I  once 
heard  a  Tamud  Turcoman  aver,  in  the  most  serious  and 
evidently  sincere  tone,  that  any  one  of  his  race  was  a  match 
in  battle  for  nine  Persians,  a  statement  which,  in  view  of 
some  astonishing  facts  which  have  come  under  my  notice, 
did  not  seem  so  exceedingly  incredible ;  though  I  was  forced 
to  doubt  one  of  the  portions  of  his  argument — viz.  that  one 
Turcoman  could  be  counted  upon  as  equal  to  three  Russians, 
while  one  of  the  latter  would  be  sure  to  come  off  victorious 
in  an  encounter  with  three  Persians. 

The  old  earth-brick  wall  and  crumbling  towers  were 
picturesque  and  mellow-tinted  in  the  early  sun  rays,  and  the 
jungles  of  stunted  oak,  pomegranate,  and  reed  were  bright 
with  late  autumnal  colours ;  for  around  Asterabad,  winter, 
properly  speaking,  had  not  then  set  in.    Half  a  mile  from 


\ 


190  FORTIFIED   VILLAGES. 

the  town  the  irregular  causeway  merged  into  a  foot-path 
twelve  inches  wide,  formed  by  the  passage  of  men,  horses, 
and  camels  through  the  bamboo-like  reeds  which,  with  their 
plumy  tufts,  rose  to  a  height  of  fifteen  feet  on  either  side. 
At  intervals,  through  occasional  openings  in  the  jungle, 
glimpses  were  caught  of  far  distant  stretches  of  the  vast 
Steppe,  deep  azure,  with  golden  morning  streakings ;  and 
here  and  there  a  slender,  sombre  line  of  trees  marked  the 
course  of  the  Giurgen  and  its  tributaries.     Scattered  amid 
the  dense  growth  of  briar  and  reed,  and  five  or  six  hundred 
yards  apart,  were  numerous  Persian  villages  of  from  twenty 
to  thirty  houses  each.     The  character  of  these  villages  is 
entirely  different  from  that  of  the  Turcoman  aoulls  or  ova* 
to  be  met  with  five  or  six  miles  further  on  in  the  open,  and 
which,  with  rare  exceptions,  have  no  kind  of  defence  around 
the  groups  of  circular  felt  huts,  or  aladjaks,  the  inhabitants 
trusting  entirely,  in  case  of  an  attack,  to  their  personal 
prowess  on    horseback.      The    Persian    villages,  on    the 
contrary,  are  surrounded  by  loop-holed  walls  of  mud,  from 
twelve  to  fifteen  feet  high,  strengthened  with  rude  flanking 
I    towers  and  a  fosse.     The  houses  are  oblong  structures  of 
mud,  the  high  sloping  roofs  of  reed-thatch  being  supported 
upon  a  tangled  maze  of  branches,  and  projecting  into  wide 
rough  eaves.     The  edifice  bears  considerable  resemblance  to 
a  dilapidated  crow's   nest.     Close   beside    each   dwelling, 
within  a  rough  courtyard,  were  a  couple  of  sleeping  stages, 
each  consisting  of  a  platform  raised  on  four  poles  to  a  height 
of  ten  or  twelve  feet  from  the  ground,  and  having  a  sloping 
roof  of  reed.     Here  the  inhabitants,   during  the  sultry 
summer  months,  take  their  nightly  sleep.      The  entire 
aspect  of  these  villages,  with  their  primitive  fortifications 
and  guarded  gateway,  spoke  eloquently  of  the  general  in- 
security pervading  the  district,  and  of  the  justly  founded 
fears  of  the  population.    Notwithstanding  all  the  efforts  of 


A    WILD  ROAD.  191 

the  Russian  and  Persian  Governments,  persons  of  both 
sexes  are  occasionally  carried  into  captivity  by  the 
neighbouring  nomads,  and  murderous  affrays  between 
Persians  and  Turcomans  are  of  everyday  occurrence  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  Asterabad.  Deep,  miry  irrigation 
canals  are  met  with  at  every  hundred  paces,  crossed  by  rude, 
ricketty  constructions  of  wood  and  earth,  inconvenient  at 
all  times,  and  dangerous  to  the  belated  traveller  overtaken 
by  evening  in  these  swampy  jungles,  removed  but  one  step 
from  their  primaeval  state.  The  little  cultivation  that 
exists  in  this  direction  is  mainly  of  rice  and  a  species  of 
oats.  The  fields  are  enclosed  by  earth  banks  and  briar 
hedges,  intended  to  prevent  the  depredations  of  the  wild 
boars,  which  swarm  in  the  neighbourhood.  Hundreds  of 
these  animals  are  annually  killed  by  the  peasantry.  Their 
flesh  iB  left  a  prey  to  jackals  and  lynxes,  who  make  short 
work  of  each  carcass.  The  heads  and  skins  are  suspended 
from  the  branches  of  trees,  with  the  idea  that  they  will 
intimidate  the  surviving  animals.  On  many  trees  I  have 
seen  from  ten  to  twelve  thus  suspended,  and  in  one  instance 
twenty-two. 

Following  the  road  in  a  north-westerly  direction  for 
three  or  four  miles,  the  jungle  and  reeds  began  to  give  place 
to  wide  tracts  of  open  country,  covered  with  luxuriant  grass. 
To  the  left  towered  the  huge  ridges  of  theElburz  mountains, 
now  all  capped  with  snow,  their  slopes  and  the  plain 
bordering  their  bases  densely  covered  with  forest  growth. 
To  the  right  stretched  the  boundless  expanse  of  the  great 
.rait  steppes,  growing  drearier  and  more  desolate  with  every 
pace  to  the  northward.  Nothing  could  be  more  striking 
than  the  sudden  transition  from  the  redundantly  luxuriant 
vegetation  around  Asterabad  and  along  the  hill  slopes  to  the 
horrid  barrenness  of  plain  across  which  lies  the  road  to 
Tchikislar.     The    source  of   this  unmitigated  desolation 


192  IRRIGATION  SCHEMES. 

seems  to  me  to  be  the  almost  absolute  levelness  of  the  plain. 
At  least  it  gives  no  path  for  streams  of  ordinary  dimensions. 
On  the  melting  of  the  Elburz  snows  great  torrents  tear 
their  way  across  it,  reaching  the  Giurgen.  A  portion  of 
the  water  stagnates  in  great  marshes,  which  dry  up  on  the 
commencement  of  the  natural  heats ;  but  regular  natural 
irrigation  there  is  none,  and  a  naturally  fertile  territory  is 
thus  blighted  beside  a  plentiful  water  supply.  Wherever 
artificial  irrigation  has  been  brought  to  bear,  the  desert 
springs  into  life ;  and  to  judge  from  the  traces  of  large 
channels  which  I  repeatedly  crossed,  this  border  district 
must  have  been  once  in  a  high  state  of  cultivation.  Many 
systems  have  been  proposed  to  facilitate  irrigation — among 
the  rest  to  build  vast  dams  across  the  mouths  of  some  of  the 
great  Elburz  gorges  opening  to  the  northward.  The  water 
of  the  melting  snows  would  thus  be  retained,  forming  great 
supplies  which  could  at  need  be  led  away  across  the  plain, 
instead  of  tearing  a  destructive  path  for  themselves  in  the 
early  summer  days.  However,  it  is  idle  to  speak  of  such 
enterprises  when  many  others,  infinitely  more  easy  to 
accomplish,  remain  unthought  of  and  unattempted  in  this 
home  of  neglect. 

Apart  from  the  great  three-terraced  sepulchral  mounds 
which  dot  the  plain,  the  only  prominent  object  is  a  large 
domed  turbe9  or  tomb,  of  some  local  saint,  believed  by  the 
inhabitants  to  be  that  of  a  nephew  of  Hussein,  one  of  the 
heroes  of  the  Persian  religious  plays.  As  far  as  the  eye  can 
reach,  Turcoman  villages  of  forty  or  fifty  huts  each  are 
scattered  over  the  plain,  and  numerous  herds  of  cattle  tended 
by  nomads,  armed  and  on  horseback,  are  continually  met  with. 
A  four  hours'  ride  from  Asterabad  brought  me  to  a  Persian 
entrenched  camp  of  about  fifteen  hundred  men,  consisting 
of  two  infantry  regiments  and  one  of  cavalry,  who  accom- 
panied the  Governor  of  Asterabad,  Mustapha  Khan,  in  his 


A  PERSIAN  CAMP.— SOLDIERS.  193 

tour  for  collecting  the  annual  tribute  from  the  Turcomans. 
At  this  season  the  latter  migrate  into  Persian  territory  to 
obtain  winter  forage  for  their  flocks.  In  the  present 
instance,  the  threatened  hostility  of  the  Tekkes  against  all 
those  tribes  which  had  in  any  way  aided  the  Russian 
advance  along  the  Atterek  had  greatly  increased  the  usual 
migration.  The  Persian  camp  of  Ak-Imam  was  situated  in 
the  midst  of  a  plain,  here  and  there  dotted  with  patches  of 
forest  growth,  offshoots  of  the  great  woods.  Along  the  hills 
close  by  runs  a  sluggish  stream,  the  Kara-Su,  one  of  the 
southern  tributaries  of  the  Giurgen.  All  around  are 
marshes  of  a  most  unhealthy  character,  filling  the  air  with 
pestilent  malaria.  A  massive  red-brick  bridge  of  three 
arches,  half  concealed  in  the  great  cane-brakes,  spans  the 
muddy  stream.  It  is  now  entirely  unused.  Not  a  trace  of  a 
road  exists  at  either  extremity,  both  of  which  debouch  upon 
jungle  and  marsh.  It  was  evidently  one  of  those  bridges 
over  which  passed  the  great  causeway  of  Shah  Abass,  leading 
to  Gez  and  the  South  Caspian  coast. 

The  Persian  camp  consisted  partly  of  tents,  some  square, 
some  bell-shaped ;  and  of  shelter  huts  constructed  of  sheaves 
of  reeds  ingeniously  put  together.  It  was  surrounded  by  a 
rampart  mounting  two  field  batteries,  the  greater  number 
of  the  pieces  being  old  smooth-bore  bronze  guns.  There 
were  three  or  four  bronze  rifled  twelve-pounders.  The 
troops  were  armed  with  a  long  smooth-bore  musket,  bearing 
date  from  the  '  Fabrique  Boyale  de  Saint  Etienne,  1816/ 
not  long  previously  converted  from  flint-lock  to  percussion. 
The  physique  of  the  men  seemed  fairly  good,  although, 
probably  owing  to  the  malaria  of  the  marshes,  they  did  not 
appear  to  be  in  good  condition.  During  the  cold  December 
nights,  also,  their  uniforms  were  miserably  deficient,  com- 
posed as  they  were  of  blue  calico  tunics  and  trousers,  the 
former  faced  with  red;  a  sheepskin  shako,  and  canvas 

vol.  1.  o 


194  A  PERSIAN  GENERAL. 

sandals  of  no  particular  pattern.  They  have,  as  a  rule,  no 
overcoats,  a  poor  kind  of  blanket  being  the  only  extra 
clothing — if  I  can  give  it  that  name.  I  had  an  interview 
with  Mustapha  Khan,  the  commander  of  the  camp  and 
Governor  of  Asterabad.  We  had  some  conversation  about 
the  Tekkes.  He  had,  he  told  me,  been  engaged  in  many 
combats  with  these  latter,  and  found  them  to  be  remarkably 
good  soldiers — that  is,  as  cavalry.  Their  infantry,  he  said, 
he  had  had  but  little  to  do  with.  They  only  fought  when 
their  homes  were  attacked,  as  was  the  case  at  Geok  Tep6 
(Yengi  Sheher)  when  Lomakin  attacked  them.  Tekkes, 
unless  well  mounted,  never  ventured  any  distance  from  home. 
This  implied  that  the  speaker  had  never  got  close  to  the 
Tekke  centres.  For  the  reason  he  gave,  he  didn't  believe 
that  Noor  Berdi  Khan,  the  then  commander  at  Geok  Tepe, 
had  so  many  infantry  with  him  at  Bendessen  as  was 
currently  reported.  He  even  doubted  if  he  had  any.  The 
fifteen  thousand  cavalry  and  eighteen  guns  he  could  under- 
stand. The  guns  could  only  be  regarded  as  position  guns, 
intended  altogether  for  defensive  action.  They  would  never 
be  trusted  within  reach  of  the  Cossacks.  The  cavalry  would 
be,  no  doubt,  very  efficient  in  cutting  off  convoys.  This 
was  their  forte.  He  believed  the  Bussians  would  have  hard 
work  even  to  reach  Merv,  without  speaking  of  establishing 
themselves  there,  which  was  nigh  impossible  until  the  Caspian 
settlements  were  much  better  organised,  and  railway  and 
other  communications  from  the  West  established.  The 
General's  ideas  coincided  very  much  with  those  I  had  pre- 
viously heard  expressed  by  Bussian  officers  of  superior  grade. 
After  the  usual  Persian  glass  of  very  strong  black  tea,  I  took 
leave  of  the  Commander-in-Chief,  and  went  to  present  a 
letter  of  introduction  to  Veli  Khan,  commanding  the  in- 
fantry. The  Commander-in-Chief  was  an  old-fashioned 
Persian,  who  wore  the  usual  semi-bedgown  sort  of  costume, 


VEL1  KHAN,  195 

and  stained  his  beard  and  finger-nails  red  with  henna.  The 
brigade  commander,  on  the  contrary,  was  semi-European 
in  his  garb,  and,  to  my  intense  delight,  spoke  a  little 
French.  His  secretary,  Mirza  Abdurrahim,  spoke  the 
language  with  fair  fluency.  It  was  close  on  sunset  when 
I  reached  Veli  Khan's  tent,  consisting  of  two  pavilions 
separated  by  a  space  enclosed  at  each  side  by  a  canvas 
wall.  The  band  was  performing  on  some  kind  of  clarionet- 
like pipes,  and  what  seemed  to  me  muffled  drums.  The 
smothered  kind  of  music  produced  seemed  as  if  issuing 
from  under  a  feather-bed.  Then  the  evening  gun  thundered 
out ;  and  a  wild  flourish  of  trumpets  was  executed,  after 
which,  the  chaunt  of  various  muezzims  rose  on  the  evening 
air.  The  chief  of  them  appeared  to  be  of  advanced  age, 
as  well  as  I  could  judge  from  his  quavering  notes.  They 
reminded  me  irresistibly  of  the  efforts  of  a  belated 
Bacchanalian  endeavouring  to  reproduce  some  very  senti- 
mental ditty  in  an  exquisitely  pathetic  fashion — and  com- 
pletely failing.  I  presented  my  letter  of  introduction,  and 
give  the  following  as  a  specimen  of  an  interview  with  a 
Persian  dignitary.  After  some  conversation  on  general 
topics,  the  Khan  told  me  that  he  had  badly  sprained  his 
ankle  some  time  before,  and  asked  me  if  I  could  prescribe 
for  him.  In  the  East  all  Europeans  are  supposed  to  be 
deeply  versed  in  the  healing  art.  I  recommended  a  band- 
age moistened  with  cold  water  and  vinegar,  and  cold  water 
poured  from  a  height  on  the  ailing  joint  every  morning. 
'We  have  an  excellent  surgeon  attached  to  the  brigade,' 
said  the  General,  when  I  had  done  speaking.  '  Then,' 
said  I  to  myself,  '  why  do  you  consult  me  ? '  '  He  is  coming 
directly,'  said  the  General ;  '  he  will  be  glad  to  see  you.' 
Shortly  after,  a  tall,  handsome,  intellectual-looking  man, 
with  coal-black  beard  and  piercing  eyes,  made  his  appear- 
ance.   He  was  the  surgeon.    A  conversation  about  Euro- 

o  2 


196  ASTROLOGY  AND  SURGERY. 

pean  politics  followed.  After  a  pause,  the  Bubject  of 
the  sprained  ankle  again  came  up.  I  repeated  my  prescrip- 
tion. 'On  what  scientific  grounds  do  you  base  your 
remedy?'  said  the  doctor.  I  explained.  'What  would 
you  say  to  a  dozen  leeches  ? '  asked  the  hakim.  Glad  to 
get  out  of  the  subject,  I  said  that  the  remedy  was  excellent. 
Not  at  all.  No  chance  of  getting  off  so  easily.  '  I  presume 
you  are  an  astronomer  ? '  went  on  my  interlocutor.  '  Well/ 
I  said,  not  exactly  understanding  the  sudden  transition 
from  sprained  ankles  and  leeches  to  the  stars,  (I  know 
something  about  the  science.'  '  I  presume  you  can  foretell 
a  favourable  conjunction  for  the  application  of  the  leeches, 
and  drawing  the  blood  of  his  Excellency  ? '  My  gravity 
was  put  to  a  severe  test ;  but  taking  a  long  pull  at  a  water 
pipe,  or  kalioun,  which  having  gone  the  round  of  the 
company  was  in  turn  handed  to  me,  I  uttered  the  usual  pro- 
longed sigh  after  such  an  indulgence,  and  gasped  out  between 
suppressed  laughing  and  half-suffocation  that  I  regretted 
my  science  was  not  of  so  profound  a  nature.  Upon  this 
the  hakim,  casting  a  triumphant  glance  around,  sank  back 
upon  his  heels  and  fingered  his  chaplet  of  amber  beads. 
He  felt  that  he  had  completely  floored  me,  and  need  not 
say  more  in  order  to  show  up  my  utter  ignorance  of  medical 
science.  I,  for  one,  blessed  the  stars  that  had  rescued 
me  from  the  chirurgico-astronomical  discussion.  The 
hospitality  I  met  with  was  without  bounds ;  so  great  and 
so  minute  in  its  details  as  to  be  embarrassing,  but  inter- 
spersed by  singular  questions  which  made  me  doubt  my 
own  sanity  or  that  of  my  questioners.  One  gentleman 
wished  to  know  what  was  the  thickness  and  height  of  the 
walls  of  the  Palace  of  Crystal  which  he  had  been  told 
existed  in  London.  Another  desired  to  be  informed  whether 
all  Franks  wore  long  boots  like  mine,  and  whether  I  took 
them  off  when  I  went  to  bed.     When  just  on  the  point  of 


GEOGRAPHICAL  NOTIONS.  197 

going  to  sleep  on  my  bamboo  couch,  a  young  officer  begged 
for  some  instruction  in  the  French  language ;  and  subse- 
quently growing  enthusiastic  on  the  subject,  asked  me  to 
dictate  to  him  a  love-letter  to  his  sweetheart  in  that  lan- 
guage. I  explained  that  I  was  not  sufficiently  acquainted 
with  Eastern  phraseology  to  take  the  initiative,  and  asked 
for  a  specimen,  so  that  I  might  gauge  the  nature  of  the 
desired  epistle.  Hereupon  my  companion  favoured  me 
with  some  sentences,  so  replete  with  buhUmls,  roses,  gazelles, 
and  other  agreeable  animals  and  plants,  that  a  Franco- 
Persian  lexicon  of  natural  history  would  have  been  abso- 
lutely requisite  in  order  that  I  might  do  justice  to  his 
effusion. 

Another  example  of  the  oddity  of  Persian  ideas.  I 
happened,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  to  mention 
Australia.  The  General  turned  to  his  secretary,  and  asked 
where  that  country  was.  The  secretary  hesitated  for  a 
moment,  but  immediately  said  that  he  was  not  sure 
whether  it  was  in  the  Sea  of  Marmora  or  that  of  Azoff,  but 
that  he  knew  it  was  somewhere  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
America. 

At  daybreak  next  morning  I  was  summoned  to  the  tent 
of  the  Commander-in-Chief,  who  told  me  that  in  case  I 
thought  of  starting  that  day  for  Gumush  Tep6  I  could  take 
advantage  of  the  departure  of  a  Turcoman  Khan  who  was 
going  in  that  direction.  Some  Afghan  troopers  would  also 
accompany  me.  I  have  already  alluded  to  these  Afghans 
— all  of  them  Sunnite  Mahometans,  who  constitute  the  main 
strength  of  the  Persian  cavalry  in  the  northern  provinces. 
They  are  the  descendants  of  the  colony  planted  along  the 
border  by  Nadir  Shah  after  his  return  from  his  expedition 
to  Afghanistan.  The  Turcoman  chief,  by  name  II  Geldi 
Khan,  a  sly-looking  man  of  some  thirty-five  years  of  age, 
agreed  that  I  should  accompany  him.    He  could  not  for 


19*  TURCOMAN  AMUSEMENTS. 

the  life  of  him  make  out  what  I  wanted  prowling  about  in 
the  desert.  He  had  a  vague  idea  that  I  might  belong  to 
some  order  of  dervishes  in  my  own  country ;  but  the  notion 
which  found  most  favour  with  him  was  that  I  had  been 
sent  by  the  Padishah  to  take  stock  of  his  villages  and 
camels  with  a  view  to  taxing  them  later  on.  This  latter 
idea  had  its  origin  in  the  widely-spread  rumour  prevailing 
here,  about  the  proxiijaate  occupation  of  Herat  by  English 
troops,  and  their  possible  march  in  this  direction.  At  one 
of  the  Khan's  villages,  about  two  hours'  ride  from  the 
camp,  we  dismissed  the  Afghan  escort,  my  conductor  offer- 
ing to  supply  another  of  his  own  clansmen,  for  though  both 
the  Persians  and  the  Turcomans  are  nominally  living  under 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  same  sovereign,  they  take  every 
opportunity  of  harming  each  other.  No  single  Turcoman 
will  venture  into  the  pomegranate  jungles,  amid  which  are 
situated  the  fortified  Persian  villages  which  constitute  the 
suburbs  of  Asterabad.  To  do  so  would  be  to  incur  almost 
certain  death,  for  these  outlying  Persians  invariably  go 
about  armed  and  in  groups,  and  never  lose  an  opportunity 
of  '  potting '  a  nomad,  and  vice  versd.  Such  events  are  of 
almost  daily  occurrence  in  the  neighbourhood  to  which  I 
allude.  While  waiting  the  preparation  of  some  pilaff,  I  had 
an  opportunity  of  witnessing  some  of  the  Turcoman  indoor 
amusements  indulged  in  during  the  long  winter  period  of  in- 
action following  the  gathering  of  the  harvest.  They  spend 
much  of  their  time  drinking  scalding  hot  water,  faintly 
flavoured  with  tea ;  but  when  they  cannot  possibly  swallow 
any  more,  and  have  passed  the  water-pipe  round  sufficiently 
often,  they  engage  in  a  kind  of  game  of  odd  and  even,  played 
with  the  knuckle-bones  of  a  sheep's  foot,  some  of  the  pieces 
being  stained  red.  The  elders  occasionally  play  chess,  usually 
on  a  cotton  handkerchief  divided  into  squares  by  lines  of 
black  stitching.    The  squares  are  all  of  the  same  colour.    The 


CHESS.— PRECAUTIONS.  X99 

chessmen  are  of  the  most  primitive  pattern.  The  top  of  a 
cow's  horn  does  duty  as  king ;  a  similar  article  of  smaller 
size  as  vizir,  or  queen.  The  knights  are  represented  by 
upright  pieces  of  bone,  each  having  two  notches.  The 
bishop,  or,  as  the  Turcomans  term  it,  JU,  or  elephant,  is  a 
piece  of  something  in  any  shape ;  while  the  castles,  or 
rokhs,  have  the  form  of  mushrooms.  The  game  is  the  same 
as  in  Europe,  with  some  difference  in  the  method  of 
castling,  and  division  of  the  first  two-square  moves  of  each 
pawn  into  two,  two  pawns  being  simultaneously  moved 
forward  one  square  each.  They  play  very  fairly,  and  even 
in  the  midst  of  the  game  make  the  moves  with  the  most 
amazing  rapidity.  The  spectators  enter  into  the  spirit  of 
the  game  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm,  chattering  and 
squabbling  over  the  relative  merits  of  the  different  moves. 

This  inter-fluvial  zone  was  debatable  ground,  over 
which  one  could  not  move  with  any  guarantee  of  security. 
The  Yamud  Turcomans  were  on  the  qui  vive  about  the 
Tekkes,  who  had  cut  the  telegraph  line  between  Tchikislar 
and  Asterabad,  and  strangers  were  on  their  guard  against 
Turcomans  of  every  description.  As  a  rule  I  found  the 
present  generation  of  Yamuds  an  honest,  hospitable  people, 
ready  to  do  a  great  deal,  even  for  a  Kaffir  and  Ferenghi 
like  myself.  The  older  members,  who  had  been  in- 
fluential slave-merchants,  and  whose  worldly  wealth  had 
been  drawn  mainly  from  traffic  in  Persian  captives,  were 
content  to  fall  in  with  the  new  state  of  affairs,  and  allow  a 
stranger  to  pass  freely.  Still,  even  these  latter,  reformed 
though  they  were,  warned  me  against  certain  groups  of 
their  own  nationality  inhabiting  the  vicinity  of  Asterabad. 
I  was  counselled  never  to  show  that  I  had  any  sum  of  money 
about  me,  and,  when  saluted  on  the  road  by  the  usual 
4  Where  are  you  going  ? '  to  give  a  reply  calculated  to  mis- 
lead my  questioners  if  I  wished  to  sleep  securely  that  even- 


K 


aoo  SELAM  ALEIK.—GEOK  TEP£. 

ing.  This  feeling  of  insecurity  was  everywhere  pre- 
eminent.  A  dish  ol  pilaff 9  as  in  this  instance,  is  laid  among 
the  folded  legs  of  the  community.  The  host,  before  touch- 
ing the  food,  exclaims  Selam  aleik,  '  Peace  be  with  you/  and 
until  the  same  salutation  is  returned,  hands  are  not  dipped 
in  the  dish.  In  the  case  to  which  I  now  refer,  it  was  not  a 
religious  or  habitual  practice  only,  but,  as  it  were,  the 
challenge  and  reply  of  the  sentry  and  patrol.  Nine 
splendidly  mounted  horsemen,  each  armed  with  sabre 
and  musket,  accompanied  me  on  my  way  to  the  coast. 
They  were  friends  upon  whom  I  could  rely,  for  we  had 
eaten  together,  the  challenge  of  Selam  aleik  being  somewhat 
similar  to  the  American  one  at  an  hotel  bar,  '  Will  you 
drink  or  fight  ? ' 

Owing  to  one  of  my  horses  having  become  sore-backed, 
I  had  to  pay  six  francs  for  an  extra  one  for  baggage ;  for 
here,  however  willingly  a  feed  of  rice  may  be  given  you 
gratis,  corn,  hay,  and  horses  have  to  be  most  religiously 
paid  for.    As  we  rode  over  the  plains  covered  with  short, 
withered  grass,  I  talked  with  my  host  about  the  battle  of 
Geok  Tep6  — the  green  hill  or  fort  -  where  the  Russians  met 
with  their  serious  check.    He  insisted  that  the  Russian  loss 
was  tremendous,  and  that  two  guns  had  been  taken.    He 
seemed  to  think  that  the  Russians  had  been  disposed  of  for 
at  least  five  years   to    come,    and    that   their    ultimate 
success  was  impossible  so  far  as  Merv  was  concerned.     Of 
course  his  notions  about  the  Russian  losses  in  the  battle 
were  formed  on  an  Eastern  scale  of  exaggeration.     He 
could  scarcely  understand  my  reasoning  when  I  told  him 
that  when  only  two  thousand  troops  were  engaged,  the 
losses  could  not  be  what  he  estimated  them.    From  his  con- 
versation I  learned  that  the  Turcomans,  too,  considered  the 
Russian  advance  in  the  direction  of  Merv  as  finished  for 
the  next  four  or  five  years     I  could  not  agree  with  him  in 


FORDING  THE  GIURGEN.  201 

that ;  but  I  felt  tolerably  sure  that  the  Russians  would  next 
time  appear  in  much  more  formidable  numbers  than  on  the 
past  occasion.  During  the  expedition  against  the  Tekk6, 
as  during  the  campaign  in  Armenia,  the  Russians  sadly 
underrated  the  power  of  their  adversaries.  In  each  case  a 
tremendous  check  was  the  result — in  Armenia  at  Zevin,  in 
Turkestan  at  Geok  Tepe.  In  Armenia  the  Russian  laurels 
were  retrieved  at  the  Aladja  Dagh  and  Ears ;  in  Turkestan 
it  was  at  Tengi  Sheher  and  Askabad. 

It  is  impossible  to  be  aware  of  the  presence  of  the 
Giurgen  River  till  one  is  within  fifty  yards  of  the  bank,  so 
flat  is  the  plain,  and  so  clear  cut  the  deep  river  bed.  For 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  we  searched  for  a  passage,  and  at 
length  forded  the  river,  our  horses  almost  swimming — that 
is  to  say,  swimming  were  it  not  for  the  weight  of  their 
riders.  Another  two  hours'  ride  through  swamp  and 
prairie  brought  us  to  Gumush  Tep6. 


902  A  PERMANENT  AOULL* 


CHAPTEB  XH. 

OUMUSH    TEP£. 

Maritime  Turcomans — Loggers — Dug-out  canoes — Permanent  Turcoman  set- 
tlements— Gumush  Tep£  mound — Old  town  of  Khorsib — Eizil  Alan — Old 
earth  mounds — Alexander's  wall — Former  palm  groves — Geldi  Khan — 
Turcoman  interior — Female  costume — Children's  silver-mounted  caps — 
Turcoman  toilet — Occupations  and  dietary  of  Turcomans — Tea  drinking 
— Economy  of  sugar — Absence  of  animal  food — Fuel — Astatki  lamps — 
Tcheliken  salt — Yaghourt — Visit  to  Tchikislar — Salt  plains — A  rebuff 
— Every-day  life  at  Gumush  Tope — Makeshifts  against  rain — The  tcnkia — 
Precautions  against  storm — A  rush  for  water. 

The  village,  or  aatdl,  of  Gumush  Tep6  is  one  of  the  very 
few  permanent  Turcoman  settlements  which  exist  along  the 
Eastern  Caspian  shore.  It  is  situated  within  about  two 
miles  and  a  half  of  the  mouth  of  the  Giurgen  river,  and 
consists  in  ordinary  times  of  six  hundred  to  eight  hundred 
kibitkas.  The  resident  population  occupy  themselves  almost 
entirely  in  fishing,  though  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  their 
animal  food  is  supplied  by  the  vast  flocks  of  sea-birds  which 
are  to  be  found  in  their  immediate  vicinity,  at  the  capture 
and  killing  of  which  they  are  very  expert.  Owing  to 
Gumush  Tepe  being  within  easy  reach  of  the  forests  border- 
ing upon  Eenar  Gez,  '  the  port  of  Asterabad,'  as  it  is  styled, 
though  it  is  nigh  thirty  miles  distant  from  that  city,  and  of 
the  other  wooded  tracts  immediately  south  of  the  same 
place,  it  is  one  of  the  principal  points  from  which  the 
wooden  frames  of  the  Turcoman  houses  of  the  interior  are 
supplied.  At  the  village  itself,  and  from  a  point  three 
miles  above  it,  the  river  Giurgen  is  at  all  seasons  unfold- 


ed 


TURCOMAN  BOATS.  ap3 

able.    On  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  and  at  its  mouth,  are 
some  very  considerable  Armenian  fishing  stations,  where 
the  sefid  mahee,  or  large  Caspian  carp,   are  caught  in 
enormous  numbers,  dried,  and  sent  off  to  different  parts 
of  Russia.     Caviare,  also,  forms  a  considerable  portion  of  , 
the  products  of  these  establishments.    At  Gumush  Tepe 
the  river  is  about  eighty  yards  wide,  the  Turcomans  in- 
habiting both  banks,  but  principally  the  northern  one. 
The  fishing-boats  of  the  population  number  from  seventy 
to  a  hundred,  and  lie  at  anchor  at  the  rude  landing  stages 
of  rough  piles  and  reed  fascines  which  enable  them  to  dis- 
charge their  cargoes.     These  craft,  now  exclusively  em- 
ployed for  fishing  purposes,  and,  when  I  saw  them,  for  the 
transport  of  wood,  fuel,  and  forage  to  the  Russian  camp  at 
Tchikislar,  were  formerly  largely  devoted  to  piracy,  and  to 
Turcoman  descents  upon  the  Persian  coast.    They  are  of 
two  kinds.     The  keseboy  is  a  lugger  of  some  forty  feet  in 
length,  is  decked  fore  and  aft,  and  has  two  masts,  carrying 
large  lateen  sails.     The  kayuk,  or  lodka,  as  the  Russians  call 
it,  is  a  craft  somewhat  smaller  in  dimensions,  decked  only  at 
the  forecastle,  and  having  usually  but  one  mast,  though  in 
some  cases  it  possesses  a  very  small  second  one  at  the 
stern.    There  is  also  the  tdimid,  which  is  simply  a  dug-out 
canoe,  formed  of  a  single  tree-trunk,  flat  bottomed,  not 
more  than  two  feet  wide,  and  vertical  sided.    These  latter, 
however,  are  scarcely  ever  used  except  for  the  service  of 
the  larger  boats,  or  for  expeditions  up  and  down  the  river, 
or  ferrying  purposes. 

Besides  Gumush  Tepe  there  are  at  present  but  three 
permanent  Turcoman  stations  on  the  East  Caspian  coast* 
These  are  Hassan  Kouli,  the  aaull  close  to  the  camp  at 
Tchikislar,  which  I  have  already  described  in  some  detail,  and 
another  in  the  vicinity  of  Erasnavodsk,  or  Shah  Quaddam 
(the  footprint  of  the  king),  as  it    was  called  before  the 


204  THE  TWO-HORNED  ALEXANDER. 

descent  of  the  Bussians.  The  houses  composing  Gumuqh 
Tep6  have  no  pretension  to  arrangement  in  streets ;  they 
are  scattered  indiscriminately  over  the  area  occupied  by  the 
village,  and  are,  with  few  exceptions,  the  regular  dome- 
shaped,  felt-covered  residences  which  are  to  be  met  with  all 
over  Central  Asia.  A  few  wooden  houses  raised  upon  poles, 
copied  from  the  Armenian  fishing-sheds,  were  also  to  be 
found,  and  half-a-dozen  rude  buildings  of  brick,  the  materials 
for  which  had  been  taken  from  the  ancient  remains  lying 
about  two  miles  to  the  northward.  The  aoutt  itself  is  called 
after  these  latter,  which  form  to-day  only  a  long  earthen 
mound  from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  in  height  and  about  one 
hundred  yards  in  length,  the  surface  and  base  being  strewn 
with  large  flat  bricks  some  fourteen  inches  long  by  twelve 
in  depth  and  four  in  thickness,  of  a  brownish  yellow  colour, 
and  as  hard  as  iron.  The  name  Gumush  Tep6,  by  which  this 
hill  is  known,  is  derived  from  the  fact  that  considerable  quan- 
tities of  silver  money  have  been  discovered  there  from  time 
to  time,  and  that  such  coins  are  still  found  there  after  heavy 
rainfalls,  or  when  graves  are  dug  for  the  dead  of  the 
neighbouring  village.  I  am  credibly  informed  by  both 
Turcomans  and  Bussians  that  large  numbers  of  these 
pieces  bear  the  impress  of  the  head  of  Alexander  the  Great — 
*  the  Iskander  Zulkarnein,'  or  two-horned  Alexander — the 
name  by  which  the  great  Macedonian  is  known  amongst 
all  Eastern  peoples.  This  mound  has  been  used  for  ages 
by  the  nomads  as  a  burying-place,  as  for  this  purpose  they 
select  the  highest  point  of  ground  within  any  available 
distance  of  them;  and  the  excavations  made  in  digging 
graves  have  done  much  to  destroy  its  ancient  contour,  and 
to  obliterate  any  intelligible  remnants  of  the  structures 
which  indubitably  existed  upon  its  summit.  Turcoman 
tradition  speaks  of  an  ancient  brick-built  town  which 
formerly  occupied  this  mound  and  its  environs,  and  which 


GUMUSH  TEP&  HILL.  205 

is  said  to  have  borne  the  name  of  Khorsib.  Along  the 
ridge  of  the  hill  of  Gumush  Tep6,  the  plan  of  which  is 
that  of  a  quarter  of  a  circle,  run  the  foundations  of  a  brick 
wall,  nearly  three  feet  in  thickness,  and  continued  from  its 
western  end.  These  foundations  follow  the  level  ground, 
and  disappear  under  the  surface  of  the  Caspian,  the  waters 
of  which,  at  ordinary  times,  are  distant  some  two  hundred 
yards  from  the  extremity  of  the  hill.  I  say  sometimes,  for 
when  a  wind  from  the  west  prevails  the  m water  advances  at 
least  half  this  distance  inland.  From  the  eastern  encj.  of  the 
hill  the  foundations  stretch  in  a  straight  line  to  the  south- 
east for  at  least  a  hundred  yards,  when  they  again  turn,  in 
a  more  or  less  north-easterly  direction,  for  a  distance  of 
two  hundred  yards,  then  changing  abruptly  to  the  north-west 
for  more  than  three  hundred  yards,  and  again  in  a  due 
easterly  direction,  reaching  far  away  into  the  plain,  where 
they  join  the  Kara  Suli  Tepe,  an  enormous  mound,  also 
covered  with  scattered  baked  brick,  and  presenting  ample 
evidence  of  having  once  been  strongly  revetted  and  otherwise 
fortified.  About  fifty  yards  from  where  this  wall  leaves  the 
eastern  extremity  of  the  hill  branches  out  in  a  south-westerly 
direction  another  line  of  foundations,  which  also  runs  to 
the  water's  edge.  This  latter,  as  well  as  that  from  the 
western  extremity  of  Gumush  Tepe,  seems  to  have  constituted 
some  kind  of  landing  pier,  which  enabled  craft  to  discharge 
their  cargoes  despite  what  must  at  all  times  have  been  a 
very  limited  depth  of  water.  The  bricks  scattered  far  and 
wide  around  the  hill  and  along  the  walls  are  in  many  in- 
stances water- worn  and  rounded,  and  are  mixed  with  large 
quantities  of  broken  pottery,  sometimes  roughly  enamelled 
blue,  and  fragments  of  glass,  the  surface  of  which  presents 
the  prismatic  colouring  of  weather-worn  silicates.  These 
foundations  are  named  by  the  Turcomans  the  Kizil  Alan, 
or  red  road,  as  they  maintain  that  they  do  not  represent  a 


ao6  THE  KIZIL  ALAN. 

wall,  but  simply  a  narrow  causeway,  by  which  the  swampy 
grounds,  formerly  lying  to  the  east  of  the  mound,  were 
traversed.    In  fact,  old  men  told  me  that  less  than  half  a 
century  ago  the  mound  of  Gumush  Tep6  was  entirely  sur- 
rounded by  water,  and  my  host  at  the  aoutt  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Giurgen  informed  me  that  thirty  years  previously 
the  Bite  of  the  village  was  submerged.     That  was  consider- 
ably within  his  own  memory,  as  he  was  between  sixty  and 
seventy  years  of  age.    This  Kizil  Alan  can  be  traced  in  an 
easterly  direction,  running  along,  in  a  zigzag  fashion,  the 
slightly  raised  and  almost  imperceptible  water-shed  which 
separates  the  Giurgen  and  Atterek  rivers,  and  connects  the 
numerous  earth-mounds  or  tepes  which,  occurring  at  in- 
tervals of  from  one  to  two  miles,  dot  the  interfluvial  plain 
and  reach  away  to  the  town  of  Budjnoord,  not  far  from 
Euchan.     These  mounds,  with  the  connecting  wall-founda- 
tions, or  whatever  they  are,  are  known  to  the  Persians  and 
Turcomans  by  the  name  of  Alexander's  Wall,  and  form  a 
triple  line  of  entrenchments,  the  mounds  of  one  line  alter- 
nating with  those   before   and   behind,   and  intervening 
between    the    wooded    mountain    slopes    of    the    North 
Persian  territory,   and  the  vast  plain  reaching  away  to 
Khiva.    One  can  place  but  little  reliance  upon  these  tradi- 
tions, for  the  Easterns  of  these  regions  almost  invariably 
attribute  to  Alexander  any  works  of  considerable  magnitude 
whose  origin  is  lost  in  the  night  of  time.     They  just  as 
probably  belong  to  periods  of  various  dynasties  of  early 
Persian  monarchs,  and  the  mounds  themselves  may  very 
likely  have  been  the  sites  of  villages  in  the  times  when  these 
plains  were  inhabited  and  cultivated ;  for  exactly  similar 
ones  are  to  be  seen  to-day  along  the  north  of  Persia, 
covered  with  inhabited  houses,  and  their  brows  surrounded 
by  entrenchments.     A  propos  of  the  ancient  cultivation  of 
this  plain,  it  seems  to  be  clearly  indicated  by  the  traces  of 


ANCIENT  MOUNDS.  207 

old  irrigation  trenches  of  considerable  dimensions.  The 
people  of  Asterabad  say  that  two  centuries  ago  the 
ground  between  the  mountains  and  the  Giurgen  was  one 
vast  grove  of  palm  trees.  Of  course  I  give  all  these  tradi- 
tions for  what  they  are  worth,  and  just  as  I  heard  them 
from  the  inhabitants.  The  names  of  the  principal  mounds, 
as  we  proceed  from  Gumush  Tep6  along  the  Giurgen  in  the 
direction  of  Asterabad,  are  the  two  Kara  Suli  Tepes,  greater 
and  lesser,  Carga  Tep6  to  the  right,  Sigur  Tep6  to  the  left, 
the  Altoun-tokmok,  lying  a  long  way  due  east,  the  Aser 
Shyia  far  off  to  the  south-east,  and  the  Giurgen  Tep6  south 
of  the  usual  ford  across  the  river.  There  are  scores  of 
other  tepis  within  view  of  any  one  of  them,  but  I  do  not 
consider  their  names  of  any  philological  or  historical  im- 
portance, as  they  are  comparatively  modern  ones,  applied 
to  them  by  the  Turcomans,  and  merely  explanatory  of 
some  peculiarity  in  form,  or  having  reference  to  their 
relations  to  certain  water-courses.  In  view  of  the  large 
amount  of  brick  scattered  around  Gumush  Tep6  itself, 
along  the  course  of  the  Kizil  Alan,  and  on  the  flanks  of 
the  different  tepes,  one  is  led  to  the  irresistible  conclusion 
that  considerable  buildings  formerly  existed  in  this  locality, 
and  that  these  buildings  have  been  destroyed,  partly  by 
domestic  influences,  partly  during  the  marches  of  Eastern 
conquerors  of  old,  and  doubtless  to  a  very  large  extent  to 
supply  building  materials  for  neighbouring  Persian  tovms. 

Immediately  on  arriving  at  the  village  of  Gumush  Tep6 
the  chief  who  escorted  me  brought  me  to  the  house  of  his 
father,  Geldi  Khan,  who  seemed  to  be  patriarch  of  the 
entire  district.  He  was  over  sixty  years  of  age,  with  refined 
aquiline  features,  cold  grey  eye,  a  long  white  moustache 
and  chin  tuft,  there  being  no  sign  of  beard  upon  the  upper 
portion  of  his  jaws.  Seated  around  him,  in  different  parts 
of  the  cdadjak,  were  the  female  members  of  his  family,  all 


aoS  GELD/  KHAN. 

occupied  in  domestic  work,  such  as  spinning,  weaving,  and 
cooking.  The  Khan  told  me  that  he  had  been  three  months 
in  Teheran  as  the  guest  of  the  Shah,  with  whom,  he  said, 
he  was  on  very  good  terms.  He  had  three  sons,  the  eldest 
of  whom,  II  Geldi,  had  escorted  me  across  from  the  Persian 
camp ;  the  second  was  known  by  the  name  of  Moullah 
Killidge.  This  latter  was  a  student  of  theology,  and  by 
courtesy  had  the  title  of  Moullah  conceded  to  him ;  in  fact, 
the  same  dignity  is  accorded  to  anyone  in  these  parts  who 
is  able  to  read  and  write.  In  other  Turkish  countries  he 
would  be  simply  styled  Ehodjah.  The  third  son,  a  youth 
of  fourteen  or  fifteen,  superintended  the  grazing  of  his 
father's  flocks  and  herds.  An  old  Turcoman  named  Dourdi 
was  told  off  to  provide  me  with  lodgings  in  his  kibitka.  He 
was  ihe  immediate  henchman  of  the  old  Khan,  from  whom 
he  rented  his  house.  In  villages  like  this  the  chief  generally 
owns  a  large  number  of  dwellings,  which  he  lets  for  small 
annual  rents  to  his  followers.  The  kibitka  which  I  was  to 
share  with  Dourdi  was  but  poorly  furnished,  even  for  a 
Turcoman  hut.  As  usual,  in  the  centre  of  the  floor  was  the 
fire,  the  smoke  from  which  escaped  by  the  circular  opening 
in  the  centre  of  the  roof,  or  by  the  door,  when  owing  to 
bad  weather  this  central  aperture  was  closed  with  its  hood 
of  felt.  A  small  and  battered  brass  samovar  stood  near  the 
fire  ;  beyond  it,  on  the  side  farthest  from  the  doorway,  the 
floor  was  carpeted  with  thick  felt,  upon  which  were  laid,  as 
seats  for  people  of  more  than  ordinary  rank,  smaller  sheets 
of  the  same  material,  and  of  brighter  colours.  Around  the 
room,  to  the  height  of  four  feet,  were  horizontally  piled  a 
large  number  of  stout  tree-branches,  sawn  into  convenient 
lengths,  and  intended  for  the  winter  supply  of  fuel.  This 
wood  was  kept  within  proper  limits  by  vertical  stakes,  stuck 
into  the  ground  outside  the  heap,  the  top  of  which  was 
used  as  a  kind  of  rude  shelf  or  counter  upon  which  bolsters, 


DOMESTIC  ARRANGEMENTS.— DRESS.  209 

quilts,  and  other  sleeping  appurtenances,  were  piled,  these 
being,  indeed,  with  the  exception  of  the  carpets,  large  and 
small,  and  a  rude  horizontal  stone  corn-mill,  the  only 
articles  of  furniture  which  the  house  contained.  An  old 
Russian  musket,  bearing  upon  the  lock-plate  the  date  1851, 
but  having  of  late  years  evidently  been  supplied  with  a 
percussion  lock,  hung,  together  with  a  sabre  and  a  large 
chaplet  of  brown  stone  beads,  against  the  lattice- work  of  the 
habitation.  This  combination  of  musket,  sword,  and  beads, 
seemed  at  the  time  to  be  no  inapt  embodiment  of  Turcoman 
ideas,  or,  for  that  matter,  of  Osmanli  ones  either.  Beside 
the  fire  crouched  an  elderly  crone,  who,  whatever  she  might 
have  been  in  her  youth,  was  now  the  very  incarnation  of 
female  ugliness.  She  was  engaged  in  preparing  the  evening 
meal,  and  seemed  not  in  the  least  disturbed  by  my  entry. 
I  may  here  add  that,  with  the  exception  of  very  recently 
married  ladies,  no  Turcoman  woman  makes  even  a  pretence 
of  veiling  her  features.  It  is  not  usual,  either,  for  a  Turco- 
man to  have  more  than  one  wife,  the  fact  being  that  most 
Turcomans  find  it  difficult  to  provide  what  they  consider  a 
sufficiency  of  food,  and  do  not  care  to  have  any  extra 
mouths  in  their  aladjaks.  The  majority  of  the  women  at 
Gumush  Tep6  wore  the  characteristic  female  attire  of  these 
countries — a  pair  of  trousers  fastening  closely  round  the 
ankle ;  over  these  a  long  shirt  of  some  dark  red  or  purple 
material,  the  breast  of  which,  in  many  cases,  was  ornamented 
with  coins  and  pieces  of  silver  hung  in  horizontal  rows.  At 
Gumush  Tep6  it  was  principally  the  young  girls  and  newly- 
married  women  who  affected  much  personal  adornment,  the 
near  contact  of  the  Jaffar  Bai  Turcomans  of  the  place 
with  the  Russians  at  Tchikislar,  and  with  the  Persians  at 
Asterabad,  having  made  the  elders  of  the  community  appre- 
ciate the  value  of  silver  and  gold  coins  as  a  medium  of 
exchange  as  too  great  for  them  to  be  allowed  to  lie  idle  for 
vol.  1.  P 


tio  DRESS. 

purposes  of  mere  bodily  ornamentation.  The  farther  one 
advances  to  the  eastward  the  less  the  value  of  money  is 
understood,  and  the  more  plentifully  do  the  ladies  decorate 
themselves  with  it.  On  state  occasions,  however,  the  Yamud 
women  wear  ponderous  collars  of  hammered  silver,  em- 
bellished with  flat  cornelians  and  lozenge-shaped  panels  of 
embossed  gold,  and  on  their  heads  a  hideous-looking  hat  of 
the  size  and  shape  of  an  ordinary  bandbox,  the  front  of 
which  is  hung  over  with  festoons  of  small  coins.  Hung  over 
the  back  of  this  absurd  head-dress,  and  reaching  to  the  small 
of  the  back,  is  a  long-sleeved  coat  of  crimson,  blue,  or  green, 
a  smaller  one,  fitting  closely  to  the  waist,  being  worn  over  the 
red  shirt.  This  is  the  gala  costume  of  the  ordinary  classes. 
The  wives  of  chiefs  and  of  the  richer  villagers  wear  on  all 
occasions  the  fall  quantity  of  clothing  and  ornaments,  with 
the  exception  of  the  hat.  This  is  then  replaced  by  a  large 
red  handkerchief,  tied  turban-wise  around  the  head,  one  end 
falling  along  the  back.  I  have  already  described  the 
costume  of  the  male  Tamuds,  when  speaking  of  Tchikislar 
and  Hassan  Kouli.  The  children,  even  in  the  severest 
weather,  are  very  scantily  clothed  indeed,  their  entire 
costume  consisting  of  a  short  red  shirt  which  scarcely 
reaches  to  the  knees.  The  head  is  covered  with  a  little 
skull-cap  of  the  same  colour,  around  which  are  generally 
hung  five  or  six  pieces  of  silver  money,  the  top  being  sur- 
mounted by  a  small  silver  tube,  rising  from  a  hemispherical 
base.  This  appendage  to  the  head-dress  of  children  is 
common  to  both  sexes  up  to  a  certain  age,  and  seems  to 
bear  some  resemblance  in  symbolism  to  the  Boman  bulla, 
just  as  donning  the  huge  black  sheepskin  hat  seems  equi- 
valent to  investment  with  the  toga  virilis.  It  is  a  remark- 
able fact  that  though  Turcomans  are  notoriously  given 
to  thieving,  these  children's  hats,  each  with  its  eight  or  ten 
shillings'  worth  of  appended  coins  and  ornaments,   are 


DAILY  LIFE.— A  RUDE   TOILET.  211 

hardly  ever  purloined,  though  the  wearers  fling  them  at 
each  other  in  the  most  careless  manner.  I  have  seen  half- 
a-dozen  of  them  lying  about  without  any  owners  being  in 
sight.  Sometimes,  however,  they  go  astray,  and  on  sudh 
occasions  the  individual  who  volunteers  to  act  as  village 
crier  walks  among  the  kibitkas,  proclaiming  in  a  loud  voice 
that  the  hat  of  So-and-so's  child  has  been  mislaid,  and 
requesting  the  finder  to  bring  it  to  a  certain  kibitka.  I 
enquired  of  my  host  whether  theft  of  this  kind  was  usual, 
but  he  said  that  it  was  rare  indeed  that  the  missing  article 
was  not  returned  intact. 

The  mode  of  life  of  the  Turcomans  along  the  Caspian  is 
sufficiently  active.  Fully  two  hours  before  sunrise  they 
were  awake  and  about,  and,  by  the  light  of  the  smoky  astatki 
lamps,  the  women  were  to  be  seen  grinding,  by  the  rude 
hand-mill,  the  corn  required  for  the  morning's  repast, 
while  the  men  got  ready  their  luggers  and  tdimtds  to 
proceed  on  their  day's  fishing,  to  convey  loads  of  hay  and 
other  commodities  to  the  Russian  camp,  or  to  seek  firewood 
or  timber  for  building  purposes  at  Eenar  Gez.  A  Turco- 
man's toilet  is  simplicity  itself.  I  give  Dourdi's  as  an 
example.  Having  donned  the  kusgun  which  served  him 
during  the  night  as  a  coverlet,  he  swept  the  carpet  on 
which  he  had  been  sleeping  with  his  huge  sheepskin  hat, 
which  he  then  proceeded  to  dust  by  banging  it  lustily  with 
the  heavy  iron  tongues.  Then,  taking  a  piece  of  fat  from 
the  pot  upon  the  hearth,  he  greased  his  boots  with  it,  finish- 
ing up  by  washing  his  hands,  using  as  soap  the  wood  ashes 
from  the  fire.  At  the  time  of  which  I  speak,  the  middle  of 
December  1879,  the  Turcomans  of  Gumush  Tep6  supplied 
the  Russian  army  at  Tchikislar  with  a  very  large  amount 
indeed  of  corn,  rice,  and  fodder,  and  to  a  great  extent 
facilitated  the  first  stages  of  its  march  to  Geok  Tep6. 

The  dietary  of  an  ordinary  Turcoman  is  by  no  means 

p  2 


aw  DIETARY. 

luxurious.  Before  the  sun  rises  he  partakes  of  some  hot 
half-baked  griddled  bread,  which  has  an  intensely  clayey 
taste  and  odour.  This  is  washed  down  by  weak  black  tea, 
and  he  thinks  himself  fortunate  if  he  can  now  and  then 
procure  a  piece  of  sugar  wherewith  to  sweeten  this  draught. 
When  he  happens  to  meet  with  such  a  luxury,  he  adopts, 
with  a  view  to  economy,  the  Russian  peasant's  method  of 
sweetening  his  tea.  A  small  lump  of  sugar  is  held  be- 
tween the  teeth,  the  tea  being  sucked  through  it.  Several 
glasses  are  thus  got  through  with  an  amount  of  sugar 
which  would  scarcely  suffice  for  one  glass  taken  by  a 
Western  European.  While  the  Turcomans  of  the  Caspian 
littoral  and  a  hundred  miles  inland  use  only  black  tea,  their 
more  Eastern  brethren  constantly  consume  green.  Should 
he  be  at  home,  his  mid-day  meal  consists  of  pilaff,  made  of 
rice  if  he  be  in  funds,  or  of  brownish  oatmeal  if  otherwise. 
The  only  usual  accompaniment  to  this  is  a  little  grease  or 
butter,  boiled  through  the  mass,  or,  as  is  more  generally  the 
case,  some  dried  salt  fish.  Sometimes  on  fite  days,  dried 
plums  and  raisins  are  mixed  with  the  pilaff.  The  evening 
meal,  partaken  of  a  little  after  sunset,  is  the  best  of  the 
day,  and  for  it  is  secured  a  small  portion  of  mutton  to 
accompany  the  pilaff,  or  a  couple  of  wild  ducks  caught  or 
shot  by  some  male  member  of  the  family.  While  at  Gumush 
Tep6  I  existed  almost  exclusively  upon  wild  fowl  of  one  kind 
or  another — pheasants,  partridges,  and  pin-tailed  grouse — 
several  of  which  I  got  boiled  at  once,  keeping  a  number 
over  to  be  eaten  cold.  Some  of  the  ducks  and  geese  are 
really  excellent,  but  others  are  so  fishy  and  rank  as  to 
render  entirely  inedible  half  a  dozen  good  ones  boiled  in  the 
same  pot.  The  pelican  and  solan  goose  are  greatly  admired 
as  food  by  the  Turcomans,  though  I  could  not  appreciate 
them.  There  was  one  thing  about  Turkestan  which  I  could 
never  understand,  viz.  the  absence  of  flesh  diet  to  an  extent 


FUEL  AND  LIGHTING.  213 

that  seemed  unreasonable,  considering  the  vast  flocks  and 
herds  possessed  by  the  inhabitants.  I  could  readily  under- 
stand their  unwillingness  to  slaughter  oxen  or  cows,  as  the 
former  were  employed  in  the  tilling  of  their  scanty  fields, 
and  from  the  latter  were  derived  the  milk,  butter,  and 
cheese,  which  they  either  consumed  themselves,  or  sold  to 
the  neighbouring  Persians.  It  is  true  that  from  the  sheep 
they  derive  the  material  for  some  portion  of  their  gar- 
ments, though  most  of  their  clothing  is  composed  of  cotton 
and  camel-hair,  but  even  so,  the  large  flocks  of  sheep  and 
goats  which  they  possess  would  supply  them  more  than 
twenty  times  over  with  abundance  of  textile  fabrics.  I 
know  that  during  the  progress  of  the  Russians,  sheep  were 
largely  bought  up  by  the  Commissariat  of  the  expedition ; 
but  I  have  been  ki  places  where  this  was  certainly  not  the 
case,  inasmuch  as  the  residents  were  hostile  to  the  Muscovite 
advance. 

The  fuel  used  by  these  maritime  Turcomans  is  generally 
wood  brought  from  the  neighbouring  Persian  coast,  supple- 
mented to  a  great  extent  by  the  dried  dung  of  camels  and 
other  animals.  The  kalioun,  or  water  pipe,  is  almost  always 
ignited  by  means  of  a  dried  ball  of  horse's  dung  as  large 
as  a  small-sized  apple.  This  is  carefully  prepared  before- 
hand, from  the  fresh  material,  piled  in  heaps  in  the  sun, 
outside  the  house,  and  brought  in  by  a  dozen  at  a  time. 
These  balls  catch  fire  like  so  much  tinder ;  one  is  placed 
on  the  bowl  containing  the  tobacco,  and  the  smoking  is 
commenced.  The  first  pulls  from  the  pipe,  as  can  be 
easily  imagined,  possess  a  very  peculiar  flavour,  owing  to  the 
mingled  smoke  of  the  fuel  and  the  tumbaki. 

At  night,  the  interiors  of  the  kibitkas  are  lighted  by 
means  of  rude  earth  lamps,  very  much  resembling  small 
tea-pots,  with  exceedingly  long  and  wide  spouts.  A  bundle 
of  cotton  rag  is  stuffed  into  the  spout,  and,  reaching  to  its 


2X4  YAGHOURT  AND  CHEESE, 

bottom,  serves  as  a  wick,  the  flame  being  fed  by  the  black 
residual  naphtha  called  by  the  Russians  astatki.  This,  as 
I  have  already  mentioned,  is  the  residuum  after  distillation 
of  the  Baku  petroleum.  It  produces  a  lurid  red,  smoky 
flame,  five  or  six  inches  in  height. 

The  salt,  of  which  the  Turcomans  make  large  use  both 
in  cookery  and  for  curing  fish,  is  brought  from  the  island 
of  Tcheliken,  in  large  blocks  of  two  feet  in  length  and 
eight  or  ten  inches  in  thickness,  quarried  by  the  Turco- 
mans of  that  island  from  the  great  striated  layers  which 
abound  there.  It  exactly  resembles,  in  colour  and  texture, 
the  rock  salt  known  in  Europe. 

One  rarely  sees  milk  used  in  its  crude  state  among  the 
Turcomans,  as  they  seem  to  deem  it  unhealthy  when  so 
consumed.  It  is  first  boiled,  and,  when  lukewarm,  fer- 
mented. The  resulting  product  is,  when  fresh,  slightly 
sour,  and  becomes  exceedingly  so  after  the  lapse  of  twenty- 
four  hours.  This  is  known  to  the  Yamuds  by  the  name  of 
yaghourt ;  it  is  called  by  the  Tekkes  gatthuk,  and  by  the 
Persians  mast  It  enters  largely  into  the  dietary  of  all 
three,  and  in  hot  weather  is  exceedingly  refreshing  and 
wholesome.  The  panir,  or  cheese,  is  simply  yaghourt  from 
which  the  serum  has  been  drawn  off,  and  which  is  allowed 
to  strain  and  become  more  or  less  solidified  in  small  bags 
suspended  from  the  roof,  a  little  salt  being  added  to  pre- 
serve it. 

I  had  been  but  a  few  days  at  my  new  home  when  I 
learned  that  my  friend  II  Geldi  Khan,  who  had  escorted  me 
from  Ak  Imam,  was  about  to  proceed  over  land  to  Tchikis- 
lar,  and  I  resolved  to  go  with  him.  We  were  accompanied 
by  a  dozen  horsemen  of  his  tribe,  for  it  was  rumoured 
that  Tekkes  who  had  fled  from  Geok  Tepe  were  roving 
over  the  plain.  We  found  an  immense  number  of  kibitkas 
in  groups  of  from  fifteen  to  twenty,   scattered  over  the 


SALT  PLAINS.  215 

plain  some  miles  east  of  Gumush  Tep6.  They  were  those 
of  Eastern  Turcomans,  who,  terrified  by  the  events  occur- 
ring in  the  Akhal  Tekk6,  had  decided  to  move  well  within 
Persian  territory.  Refugees  were  continually  arriving, 
bringing  with  them  great  numbers  of  camels,  and  we 
saw  a  cavalcade  of  Turcoman  women,  dressed  in  bright 
scarlet  robes,  and  riding  in  curtained  horse-litters,  making 
the  best  of  their  way  westwards,  in  the  midst  of  their  tribes- 
men and  friends.  Within  ten  miles  of  the  top  of  the 
Atterek  delta,  the  point  at  which  we  were  to  pass,  we  came 
upon  a  vast  salt  expanse.  It  was  as  white  and  even  as  a 
new  snowfall,  and  I  could  only  with  difficulty  bring  myself 
to  believe  that  it  was  not  covered  with  snow.  Long  black 
tracks,  produced  by  the  passage  of  camels  and  horses, 
stretched  away  in  every  direction.  Not  a  blade  of  any  kind 
of  herbage  varied  the  monotony  of  this  ghastly  waste. 
During  my  subsequent  wanderings  in  the  plain,  I  never  met 
with  anything  so  remarkable  as  this  salt  expanse,  for  the 
existence  of  which  I  can  only  account  by  supposing  that  the 
waters  of  the  Hassan  Eouli  lagoon,  pressed  forward  by 
winds  from  the  west,  sometimes  overflow  the  ground,  and 
that  the  shallow  waters,  rapidly  evaporated  by  the  great 
heat  of  the  sun,  leave  this  deposit  behind  them.  We 
stopped  for  the  night  at  the  Turcoman  village  of  Atterek,  to 
which  I  have  had  occasion  to  refer  in  describing  my  journey 
from  Tchikislar  to  Asterabad.  We  were  very  hospitably 
received,  a  sheep  being  killed  for  our  entertainment ;  and 
before  daybreak  next  morning,  after  a  breakfast  of  hot, 
greasy  bread,  and  an  immense  quantity  of  sugarless  tea,  we 
pushed  forward,  reaching  Tchikislar  about  eleven  o'clock  in 
the  forenoon.  My  friend  the  Khan  had  formerly  com- 
manded a  troop  of  irregular  cavalry  in  the  Russian  service, 
composed  of  his  own  countrymen,  but  in  consequence  of 
some  backsliding  on  his  part  in  the  matter  of  pay  given 


216  EXPELLED  FROM  TCHIKISLAR. 

to  him  for  distribution  among  his  command,  he  had  been 

banished,  and  forbidden  to  return.    Hence  he  was  rather 

chary  about   making  his  appearance  among  the  Russian 

lines— a  hesitation  which  was  apparently  very  well  justified, 

for  we  had  no  sooner  entered  the  camp  than  the  chief  of 

police  marched  up  to  us,  and  told  my  companion  that  the 

sooner  he  departed  from  its  limits  the  better  it  would  be 

for  him.     I  fared  no  better,  being  warned  that  my  presence 

was  not  desired,  and  we  were  both  given  until  the  morrow 

to  retrace  our  steps.     Seeing  that  there  was  little  or  no  stir 

in  the  place,  and  that  all  military  movements  were  for  the 

moment  at  an  end,  I  again  took  my  way  back  by  the  road  I 

had  come,  in  company  with  II  Geldi  and  his  following.    We 

arrived  at  our  starting-point  without  any  new  incident. 

Finding  that  there  was  a  constant  intercourse  between 
Gumush  Tepe  and  Tchikislar,  owing  to  the  continued  pass- 
ing and  repassing  of  luggers  with  hay  and  other  supplies, 
and  that  Armenian  dealers  frequently  passed  through  our 
village  with  a  view  of  purchasing  food  at  that  place,  to  be 
sold  by  them  at  second  hand  to  the  encamped  Russians, 
and  that  through   their  medium  I  might  be  constantly 
informed  as  to  the  movements  of  the  troops,  I  resolved  to 
make  a  lengthened  stay  with  old  Dourdi.     Here,  during  a 
residence  of  some  months,  I  had  ample  leisure  for  ob- 
serving the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Yamud   Turco- 
mans, and  as  I  shared  the  same  one-chambered  Jdbitka 
with  my  host,  his  wife,  his  niece,  and  a  young  child,  and 
participated  in  their  daily  life,  I  had  excellent  opportunities 
for  judging  of  Turcoman  domestic  life.     There  were  certain 
inconveniences  attendant  upon  this   gregarious   mode  of 
existence,  for  the  circular  chamber  was  but  fifteen  feet  in 
diameter,  and  some  member  of  the  family  was   always 
present.     Consequently,  when  one  wished  to  perform  his 
ablutions,   or  to  change    his  clothes,   he    was  generally 


RAIN  SHELTER.  217 

obliged  to  do  so  in  the  dark,  or  under  coyer  of  his  quilt,  after 
the  family  had  retired  to  rest.  Our  sole  bed  consisted  of  a 
thick  felt  carpet,  spread  upon  the  bare  earth,  our  bolsters 
were  of  enormous  dimensions,  and  our  bed-covering  was 
composed  of  a  stuffed  cotton  quilt,  and  did  not,  I  regret  to  say, 
bear  the  appearance  of  having  often  been  washed.  This, 
on  very  cold  nights,  I  supplemented  by  my  great  sheepskin 
overcoat ;  but  as  a  fire  generally  smouldered  on  the  hearth, 
towards  which  our  feet  were  directed,  we  passed  the  nights 
snugly  enough.  Still,  as  I  have  said,  two  hours  before 
sunrise  all  further  sleep  became  impossible  by  reason  of  the 
grinding  of  corn,  the  flitting  of  wood  with  a  hatchet,  the 
various  goings  to  and  fro  of  the  household,  and  the  stream 
of  visitors  who  were  sure  to  arrive  at  that  hour. 

These  Turcoman  cdadjaks  are,  ordinarily,  perfectly 
weather-proof,  and,  on  the  whole,  fairly  comfortable  to  live 
in,  but  that  of  my  host  was  a  rather  patched  and  mended 
affair,  and  the  light  of  day  could  be  seen  through  more  than 
one  hole  in  the  felt  covering  the  exterior  of  its  domed  roof. 
One  night,  as  we  lay  asleep,  a  tremendous  downpour  of 
rain  set  in,  and  after  the  first  half-hour  the  water  dripped 
into  the  hissing  fire,  and  pattered  around  us  on  the  quilts. 
Dourdi  was  equal  to  the  occasion.  It  was  clearly  not  the 
first  time  he  had  been  confronted  with  the  situation.  He 
rose  quickly,  took  a  long  iron-shod  pole,  which  I  presumed 
to  be  some  kind  of  a  boat-hook,  and  fixed  one  end  of  it  in  the 
side  of  the  aladjak  some  five  feet  from  the  ground.  The 
other  end  was  supported  by  a  loop  of  camel-hair  rope, 
which  descended  from  the  centre  of  the  roof  to  within  the 
same  distance  from  the  ground.  Hastily  unfolding  a  carpet 
of  large  dimensions,  he  placed  •  it  over  this  horizontally 
rigged  pole,  the  ends  resting  on  the  ground,  and  forming  a 
kind  of  tent  which  contained  all  the  sleepers.  Often  during 
my  stay  at  Gumush  Tep6, 1  have  passed  the  night  in  this 


218  THE  TENKIS. 

house  within  a  house.  The  loop  of  camel-hair  rope  is 
ordinarily  intended  as  a  support  to  one  end  of  a  cane, 
basket-like  hammock,  the  other  end  of  which  is  hung  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  wall,  the  hammock  serving  as  a  cradle 
for  young  children. 

The  winter  at  Gumush  Tep6  is  generally  mild  enough, 
and  even  during  the  severest  portions  of  the  year — towards 
the  end  of  February — the  snow  rarely  lies  upon  the  ground 
for  any  length  of  time,  except  when  drifted  into  old  irriga- 
tion trenches,  or  where  sheltered  from  the  sun.  To  make 
up  for  this,  however,  about  twice  a  month  we  had  sudden 
and  violent  storms  from  the  westward,  of  the  approach  of 
which  we  had  generally  only  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  warning, 
and  at  night  none  at  all.  This  sudden  storm  is  called  the 
tenkis.  The  first  time  I  witnessed  one  I  was  excessively 
puzzled  to  understand  the  movements  of  the  inhabitants 
immediately  before  the  storm  struck  the  village.  It  was 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon ;  the  sun  was  shining 
brightly,  and  the  sky  was  without  a  cloud.  All  at  once  I 
observed  persons  pointing  hurriedly  towards  the  distant 
Caspian  horizon,  where  a  thin,  white,  jagged  line  of  flying 
mist  was  perceptible,  which  rose  higher  and  higher  at  each 
moment,  approaching  us  with  rapid  pace.  In  the  village 
itself  the  wind  was  blowing  from  an  opposite  direction,  and 
the  mist  clouds  along  the  Elburz  range  were  moving 
towards  the  west,  while  the  advancing  scud  was  still  so  very 
indistinct  as  to  be  unobservable  by  the  unaccustomed  eye. 
I  saw  men  and  women  in  frantic  haste,  flinging  ropes  over 
the  tops  of  the  kibitkas,  and  lashing  the  opposite  extremities 
to  stout  wooden  pegs  firmly  embedded  in  the  ground  close 
to  the  wall  of  the  dwelling.  In  the  meantime,  within  my 
residence,  old  Dourdi,  muttering  prayers  in  most  anxious 
tones,  was  propping  his  boat-hook  and  several  other  poles  of 
equal  size  against  the  spring  of  the  dome,  and  planting  the 


THE  TENKIS.  219 

lower  one  firmly  in  the  ground.  I  could  make  neither  head 
nor  tail  of  all  these  preparations,  and  was  still  more  con- 
founded and  amazed  by  seeing  all  the  matrons  and  maidens 
of  the  community  who  were  not  engaged  in  securing  the 
permanency  of  their  habitations,  rushing  to  the  bank  of  the 
river,  some  carrying  a  pitcher  in  each  hand,  others  with 
enormous  single  ones  strapped  upon  their  backs.  These, 
with  feverish  haste,  they  filled  with  water,  and,  hurrying 
with  them  to  their  houses,  again  issued  forth,  with  other 
vessels,  for  fresh  supplies.  My  first  idea  was  that  these 
were  defensive  preparations  against  some  expected  raid  on 
the  part  of  the  Tekkes  ;  that  the  poles  planted  against  the 
walls  within  were  to  resist  some  battering  operations  of  the 
assailants ;  and  that  the  water  so  eagerly  sought  for  must 
be  intended  to  extinguish  a  coming  conflagration.  Every 
one,  however,  was  too  busily  engaged  to  give  me  any  further 
answer  to  my  demands  as  to  what  it  all  meant,  than  to 
exclaim,  '  The  tenkis  !  the  tenkis ! '  By  this  time  the  jagged 
white  mist  had  risen  high  above  the  horizon,  and  was 
rapidly  veiling  the  western  sky.  Flocks  of  sea-gulls  and 
other  aquatic  birds  flew  inland,  screaming  and  shrieking 
loudly.  Ere  long  I  saw  that  the  clouds  along  the  mountain 
ceased  their  westward  movement,  staggered,  reeled,  and 
ultimately  partook  of  the  movement  of  the  advancing  scud. 
Great  sand-clouds  came  whirling  towards  us  from  the  beach, 
and  in  another  instant  the  storm  burst  upon  us,  accom- 
panied by  a  tremendous  downpour  of  rain.  The  kibitka 
into  which  I  rushed  for  shelter  quivered  and  shook  under 
its  influence,  and  I  thought  that  at  each  moment  it  would  go 
over  bodily.  The  westerly  edge  was  lifted  some  inches  from 
the  ground  with  each  fresh  gust,  and  the  eagerness  with 
which  ropes  were  hauled  taut,  and  storm-props  made  fast  by 
the  inmates  hanging  with  all  their  weight  from  their  upper 
portions,  reminded  one  of  a  scene  on  board  a  vessel  at  sea 


220  RIVER   WATER  FORCED  BACK. 

during  a  violent  tempest.    I  was  gazing  through  a  crevice 
in  the  felt  walls  out  over  the  plain  in  an  eastward  direction, 
where  some  camels,  laden  with  grass  and  hay,  were  hurry- 
ing forward  to  gain  shelter  before  being  overtaken  in  the 
open.     I  could  see  their  loads  seized  upon  by  the  storm 
gusts,  and  in  a  moment  torn  from  the  backs  of  the  animals, 
and  sent  whirling  far  and  wide,  and  to  a  height  of  a  hundred 
feet.     The  camels  turned  tail  to  the  wind  and  crouched 
down,  stretching  their  long  necks  upon  the  earth,  so  as  to 
remove  themselves  as  much  as  possible  from  the  influence 
of  the  hurricane  and  whirlwind,  their  conductors  imitating 
ihem.     This  storm  continued   for  over  an  hour,   during 
which  time  the  luggers  moored  in  the  river  were  quite 
deserted  by  their  crews,  lest  the  craft  might  be  torn  from 
their  anchorage  and  dashed  against  each  other,  as  occasion- 
ally happens.    Of  course  when  the  tempest  came  on  I  saw 
the  object  of  all  the  lashing  down  and  propping  up  of  the 
kibitkas,  but  it  was  only  when  it  had  passed,   and  the 
inhabitants  were  at  leisure  to  speak  to  me,  that  I  could 
make  out  the  meaning  of  the  hurried  rush  to  the  river  for 
water.     It  appears  that  when  the  tenkis  blows  strongly, 
the  sea-water  is  forced  up   the  channel  of  the   Giurgen, 
sometimes  to  a  distance  of  a  mile  above  the  village,  the 
natural  flow  of  the  stream  being  so  impeded  that  when  it 
is  tolerably  full,  and  its  current  is  rapid,  it  overflows  its 
banks.     This  forcing  back  of  the  sea-water  into  the  river's 
channel  renders  the  water  of  the  river  unfit  for  human 
consumption,  often  for  hours  together,  and  it  is  with  a  view 
of  securing  a  supply  for  household  use  that  a  rush  is  made 
to  the  banks  as  soon  as  the  flying  jagged  mist  appears  upon 
the  horizon. 


DOGS.  mi 


CHAPTER  Xm. 

LIFE   IN  THE   KIBITKA8. 

Savage  dogs — Vambery's  house — Turcoman  want  of  ideas  about  time — Smoke 
— Sore  eyes — Conversation — Patients — Visiting  formalities — Turcoman 
hospitality — Karakchi  thieves — Physical  types  of  Yamuds — A  Turcoman 
belle — Nursing  children— Tekke  bugbears — Plurality  of  -wives — A  domestic 
quarrel  and  its  consequences. 

Life  in  a  Turcoman  village  is  but  a  dreary  affair  when  the 
first  impressions  of  novelty  have  worn  off.  As  a  rule,  one 
does  not,  after  having  taken  his  first  dozen  strolls,  care  to 
walk  about  to  be  stared  at  by  the  inhabitants  and  harassed 
by  the  ferocious  dogs,  which  rush  in  scores  at  a  stranger 
clad  in  European  attire.  I  know  of  nothing  more  annoying 
than  these  dogs.  They  are  exceedingly  useful  as  guardians 
of  the  place,  for  no  one  can  come  within  a  mile  of  them 
without  his  presence  being  made  known  by  their  noisy 
barking,  and  they  are  most  efficient  in  preventing  thieves 
from  carrying  off  the  horses,  which  are  never  under  cover, 
but  stand  tethered  by  the  fetlock  close  by  their  owners' 
kibitkas. 

I  usually  confined  myself  to  my  dwelling,  making  notes, 
or  conversing  with  the  too  numerous  visitors  who  invaded 
Dourdi's  residence.  This  was  the  same  in  which  Vamb6ry 
had  lived,  for,  notwithstanding  that  he  succeeded  in  passing 
through  unrecognised  as  a  European,  the  inhabitants 
afterwards  learned  his  true  character,  doubtless  from  the 
Russians  of  the  naval  station  at  Ashurad6,  close  by.    I 


222  vamb£ry*s  host— smoke. 

heard  of  the  famous  Hungarian  from  a  person  named  Kan 
Jan  Kelt6,  the  son  of  Kotsak,  his  former  host.  He  de- 
scribed the  traveller  as  being  like  Timour  Lenk,  the  great 
Central  Asian  conqueror,  i.e.,  somewhat  lame.  Of  course 
this  knowledge  of  Vamb6ry  was  not  arrived  at  until  some 
time  after  his  departure  from  among  the  Yamuds,  as  other- 
wise it  might  have  fared  badly  with  him,  and  he  certainly 
would  not  at  that  time  have  been  allowed  to  pass  on.  The 
most  singular  fact  in  connexion  with  this  matter  was  that 
when  I  asked  for  the  date  of  Vambery's  arrival  at  Gumush 
Tep6  my  informant  could  give  me  only  a  very  vague  reply. 
This  is  characteristic  of  the  Turcomans.  They  seem  to 
have  no  idea  of  time  beyond  a  period  of  twelve  months,  and 
cannot  tell  whether  an  occurrence  took  place  eight,  ten,  or 
twenty  years  ago,  generally  referring  the  questioner  to 
some  striking  event,  and  explaining  that  the  matter  to 
which  the  query  relates  happened  before  or  after  it 

One  of  the  most  disagreeable  features  of  a  Turcoman 
hut  is  the  ever-present  smoke,  which  is  produced  by  the  com- 
bined combustion  of  greenwood,  cuttings  from  fir  planking, 
and  camel's  dung.  The  fire  is  scarcely  ever  allowed  to  go 
out,  and  the  Turcomans  will  assure  the  guest,  by  way  of 
reconciling  him  to  the  nuisance,  that  it  is  admirable  as  a 
means  for  keeping  flies  out  of  the  kibitka.  This  is  doubt- 
less true,  but  it  appears  to  me  that  a  very  nice  judgment 
would  be  required  to  discriminate  as  to  the  lesser  of  the 
two  evils.  In  winter,  especially,  one  becomes  as  black  with 
soot  in  twenty-four  hours  as  if  he  had  Keen  living  in  a 
chimney,  and  his  only  chance  of  avoiding  suffocation  is  to 
lie  down  with  his  face  as  near  to  the  ground  as  possible. 
To  stand  up  would  be  to  risk  asphyxiation  in  the  creosote- 
fraught  atmosphere.  The  smoke  occupies  the  upper  two- 
thirds  of  the  apartment,  and  condenses  about  the  top  of  the 
domed  roof,  converting  the  long,  pendent  cobwebs  into  so 


SORE  EYES.— CONVERSATION.  223 

many  sooty  stalactites,  which,  when  they  become  too 
ponderous  for  their  own  suspending  strength,  descend 
silently  into  one's  food,  or  settle  in  heavy  black  stripes 
across  his  face  as  he  lies  asleep.  At  the  end  of  a  few  days 
one  is  as  thoroughly  smoke-dried  as  the  most  conscientious 
curer  could  desire  his  hams  to  be.  The  creosote  resulting 
from  the  burning  of  the  fresh  pinewood  produces  inflamma- 
tion of  the  eyes,  and,  after  some  months'  residence  in 
these  maritime  kibitkas,  one  is  not  surprised  that  keratitis 
and  bleared  eyes  should  be  so  universally  met  with  among 
the  Turcomans. 

The  utter  absence  of  privacy  was  also  a  most  aggravat- 
ing element  of  my  sojourn  in  Gumush  Tep6.  Ordinarily,  I 
shared  my  dwelling  with  Dourdi,  his  wife,  child,  niece,  and 
a  calf ;  but  in  addition  to  these  there  was  an  intolerable 
continuation  of  levies  to  be  held,  at  each  of  which  at  least 
fifteen  or  twenty  visitors  were  present.  It  was  impossible 
to  do  anything  in  the  shape  of  taking  notes,  or,  indeed,  to 
write  at  all.  It  is  the  greatest  mistake  in  the  world  to 
suppose  that  Orientals  are  taciturn — those,  at  least,  who 
are  to  be  met  with  in  these  regions.  There  was  incessant 
babbling  and  chattering.  The  conversation  was  of  a  very 
limited  kind,  being  mainly  confined  to  geographical  subjects, 
of  which  the  talkers  had  but  very  crude  notions.  At  first  I 
used  to  try  most  conscientiously  to  explain  the  whereabouts 
of  certain  countries,  but,  finding  my  auditors  altogether 
unable  to  comprehend  the  distances  which  I  mentioned,  I 
afterwards  confined  myself  to  indicating  the  points  of  the 
compass  at  which  the  various  countries  lay,  dividing  my 
measurements  into  'very  far,'  and  'very  far  indeed,' 
with  which  explanations  they  were  completely  satisfied. 
I  was  constantly  overwhelmed  by  the  most  ridiculous 
questions,  such  as,  'How  much  moajib  (salary)  did  the 
Ingleez  Padishah  receive  annually  ?  '    Being  informed  that 


2*4  INQUISIT1VENESS.-PERSECUTI0N. 

the  English  Padishah  was  a  lady,  they  could  with  difficulty 
be  persuaded  that  I  was  not  playing  upon  their  credulity ; 
and  the  pointing  out  of  England  and  Hindostan  as  lying  at 
opposite  points  of  the  compass  seemed  to  confirm  them  in 
this  idea.    As  a  rule,  these  people  have  not  the  slightest 
conception  of  the  existence  of  Britain,   Hindostan  being 
supposed  by  them  to  be  the  real  England.    There  was  a 
general  anxiety  to  know  my  age,  whether  I  had  a  father  or 
mother,  how  many  brothers  I  had,  and  their  respective 
ages.     I  was  never  asked  if  I  had  sisters,  it  being  contrary 
to  Eastern  etiquette  to  speak  of  ladies,  or  even  to  ask  if  one 
is  married.     The  information,  after  being  given  to  those 
who  sat  nearest  to  me,  was  conveyed  to  the  next  tier  of 
anxious  listeners,  who  in  turn  communicated  it  to  the  outer 
circle.     All  this  ground  had  to  be  gone  over  afresh  for  the 
benefit  of  each  set  of  new  comers,  as  if  the  subject  had  been 
of  absorbing  and  general  interest.    The  whole  proceeding 
was  not  only  exceedingly  ludicrous,  but  worrying  in  the 
extreme.     Some  sat  in  solemn  silence,   their  eyes  fixed 
upon  my  face,  but  the  majority  were  aggressively  inquisitive, 
and  I  often  found  myself  seriously  calculating  how  long  I 
was  prepared  to  bear  this  sort  of  torture  without  becoming 
demented.    After  some  weeks,   however,   I  began  to  get 
case-hardened,  and  I  resolved  that  I  would  go  on  with  my 
writing,  no  matter  what  might  be  the  nature  of  the  sur- 
rounding circumstances.    Accordingly,  I  used  to  sit  down 
doggedly  upon  my  carpet,  paying  no  attention  whatever  to 
the  batches  of  new  comers,  and  as  I  sat,  taciturnly  writing 
by  the  smoky  light  of  the  astatlci  lamp,  the  onlookers  were 
filled  with  amazement  at   my  obduracy  and  unwilling- 
ness to  speak  to  them.     '  Why,'  said  one  of  my  visitors,  one 
evening,  when  after  half  an  hour's  questioning  he  had  only 
succeeded  in  extracting  surly  monosyllables  from  me,   '  I 
never  saw  such  a  silent  person  as  you  are.     If  I  had  only 


PATIENTS.— VISITING  CEREMONIES.  225 

travelled  half  the  distance  that  you  have  I  should  never 
have  done  talking  about  my  adventures/  This  man's 
name  was  Agha  Jik,  a  Goklan  Turcoman,  who  had  thought 
proper  to  change  his  tribe,  owing  to  the  want  of  security 
for  life  and  property  obtaining  among  his  own  clansmen. 
He  was  a  very  lively  old  fellow,  and,  considering  the 
extreme  pliability  of  his  tongue,  I  have  no  doubt  that  he 
would  have  kept  his  word  under  the  circumstances  to  which 
he  alluded. 

Another  kind  of  suffering  which  I  had  to  endure  was 
entailed  by  the  continual  examining  into  and  prescribing 
for  the  various  maladies  which  seemed  to  have  alighted 
upon  my  interviewers  expressly  for  my  persecution.  Fever, 
hepatic  disease,  sore  eyes,  and  a  hundred  other  complaints 
passed  in  review  before  me,  for  everyone  coming  from 
Frangistan  is  here  supposed  to  be  a  physician.  There  was 
a  constant  drawing  upon  my  small  stock  of  medicines,  and, 
when  I  declared  that  I  had  not  a  certain  remedy,  my 
patient  would  exclaim,  in  amazement,  ( What !  you  have 
been  in  Stamboul  and  Frangistan,  and  you  have  not  any 
medicine ! ' 

According  to  ordinary  Turcoman  ceremonial,  a  visitor 
draws  aside  the  carpet  which  hangs  curtain-wise  before  the 
door,  and  utters  the  sacramental  Selam  aleik.  He  always 
knows  by  the  tone  of  the  reply  whether  it  is  convenient 
that  he  should  enter  or  not,  and  if  his  salutation  be  not 
returned  at  all,  he  takes  it  for  granted  that  there  is  a 
grievance  against  him.  An  instance  of  this  occurred  at 
the  very  kibitka  in  which  I  was  staying.  A  Turcoman  of 
very  bad  character  and  dissolute  habits  had  been  going 
round  the  village  spreading  rumours  that  my  host  was 
swindling  and  plundering  me  in  the  most  reprehensible 
manner,  and,  this  coming  to  old  Dourdi's  ears,  the  latter 
at  once  asked  me  whether  I  believed  that  such  had  been 

vol.  1.  Q 


336  VISITING  CEREMONIES. 

his  treatment  of  me.  I  of  course  replied  in  the  negative. 
Shortly  afterwards,  the  propagator  of  the  defamatory  report, 
not  dreaming  that  his  lying  statements  had  reached  my 
host's  ears,  presented  himself  at  the  open  door,  and 
uttered  the  customary  Selam  aleik.  Old  Dourdi,  who  was 
looking  with  half-closed  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  entrance, 
steadily  ignored  the  presence  of  the  intruder,  I  myBelf 
following  his  example.  As  a  consequence,  after  a  few 
minutes'  pause,  the  would-be  visitor,  probably  guessing  that 
his  calumnies  had  been  duly  reported  to  the  subject  of 
them,  walked  sheepishly  away,  and  never  again  troubled  us 
by  his  presence.  It  is,  above  all,  imperative  upon  the 
caller  never  to  enter  if  he  sees  that  the  inmates  are  at 
meals ;  for  this  would  entail  upon  the  people  of  the  house 
the  necessity  of  asking  him  to  partake  of  their  food,  and 
every  Turcoman  knows  that  his  countrymen  are  not  always 
in  a  position  to  extend  such  hospitality.  When  the  entree 
of  the  house  is  permitted,  the  visitor  approaches  with  the 
utmost  ceremony,  and  for  fully  three  or  four  minutes  there 
is  a  muttered  exchange  of  formalities.  *  Amanme  f '  says 
the  superior,  as  the  senior  is  always  considered,  except  in 
the  case  of  a  chief.  *  Amanlugme?  replies  the  other. 
1  Amansalugme,  Kiffenkokme,9  *  Sorache,9  *  EVhamd-Ettilah,9 
and  many  another  ceremonious  phrase,  follow  upon  each 
other.  Should  as  many  as  twenty  persons  be  present 
when  a  visitor  comes  in,  the  ceremonial  must  be  gone 
through  separately  with  each,  in  the  order  of  his  rank  or 
seniority.  In  this  respect  the  Yamuds  are  precisely  like 
the  Osmanli  Turks,  the  salaaming  movement  of  the  hand 
and  valedictory  phrases  of  the  latter  only  being  omitted. 
Among  the  Turcomans  the  matter  winds  up  with  the 
'  Khoth  Geldi 9  (You  are  welcome).  Notwithstanding  all 
this  formality  upon  entering,  there  is  none  whatever  when 
one  of  the  company  departs.    He  rises  abruptly,  and  leaves 


POLITENESS.  227 

the  room  as  though  something  had  been  said  which  had 
direly  offended  him.  No  one  else  takes  the  slightest  notice 
of  his  withdrawal,  nor  does  he  himself,  even  by  a  nod, 
salute  the  company.  As  in  all  Eastern  society,  it  is  of 
course  necessary  to  remove  one's  slippers  on  entering,  or 
at  least  when  stepping  upon  the  carpeted  portion  of  the 
kibitka,  and  you  must  also  remain  covered,  as  a  mark  of 
respect.  To  uncover  the  head  before  a  respectable  Oriental 
gathering  would  be  almost  as  inexcusable  as  to  remove 
one's  nether  garments  in  a  fashionable  London  saloon.  I 
have  often  perspired  under  the  heat  of  my  sheepskin  hat* 
and  would  have  given  half  my  worldly  goods  to  be  able  to 
doff  that  article  of  clothing,  but  was  compelled  to  bear 
with  the  inconvenience  for  fear  of  being  regarded  as  a 
grossly  discourteous  person.  Sometimes,  if  only  yourself 
and  your  host  be  present,  and  he  should  feel  very  hot  him- 
self, he  may  possibly  extend  his  politeness  so  far  as  to  say 
*  You  may  take  off  your  hat  if  you  like ; '  but  then  it  is 
always  understood  that  you  keep  on  the  small  skull-cap, 
which  no  true  Oriental  ever  removes,  whether  by  day  or  by 
night.  Should  a  stranger  arrive,  there  is  a  sudden  donning  of 
head-dresses,  as  if  the  new-comer  were  about  to  make  some 
murderous  attack  upon  the  crania  of  the  inmates,  and  they 
needed  protection  against  his  violence. 

The  hospitality  of  the  desert  has  been  a  good  deal  im- 
paired, in  the  case  of  the  Yamuds  along  the  Persian  border, 
owing  to  their  contact  with  their  more  than  usually  mer- 
cenary Persian  neighbours,  and  with  the  ready-monied, 
well-paying  Russian  authorities.  Still,  the  semblance  of  it 
exists.  A  Turcoman  in  whose  house  you  have  been  staying 
for  a  few  days  will  accept  nothing  for  the  board  and  lodging 
which  he  has  supplied  to  you,  though  he  will  unhesitatingly 
take  payment  for  the  oats  and  fodder  consumed  by  your 
horse.    You  may  ask  him,  in  the  most  explicit  terms,  how 

Q2 


»8  HOSPITALITY, 

many  chanaks  of  oats  or  barley  have  been  supplied,  and 
how  many  bundles  of  hay,  and  he  will  at  once  inform  you. 
To  inquire  how  much  you  owe  him  for  the  boiled  fowls  and 
pilaff  vhich  you  have  eaten,  however,  would  be  to  seriously 
offend  him.    But  when  you  are  going  away  he  expects  a 
handsome  peshkesh,  and  will  think  you  a  shabby  individual 
indeed,  if  you  have  an  air  of  being  at  all  above  the  ordinary, 
if  he  does  not  in  this  guise  receive  from  you  two  or  three 
times  the  value  of  what  you  have  been  provided  with.    I 
must  say,  however,  that  in  the  case  of  their  own  country- 
men who  are  known  not  to  be  too  well  off,  and  especially 
in  the  case  of  wandering  dervishes,  their  liberality  is  un- 
bounded, and  they  do  not  entertain  the  slightest  expectation 
of  remuneration,  nor  would  they  accept  any.     The  dervish 
is  supposed  to  be  a  man  of  God,  though  as  a  rule  he  is 
the  reverse — at  least  the  Persian  one  is ;  and  as  regards 
the  Turcoman  who  is  on  his  travels,   the   host  expects 
that,  should  it  come  to  his  turn  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  guest 
who  is  at  his  house,  he  will  meet  with  a  like  return  of 
hospitality.     I  was  very  much  struck  by  the  resemblance 
between  the  manners  and  phrases  of  these  people  and  those 
of  the  Spaniards.     They  will  tell  you  that  the  house  and 
all  that  it  contains  are  yours ;  and  if  you  speak  in  terms  of 
praise  of  any  article  belonging  to  your  host,  he  feels  bound 
to  tell  you  that  it  is  altogether  at  your  disposal,  and  in 
several  cases  I  have  been  forced  to  accept  at  the  hands  of 
chiefs  that  which  I  happened  to  commend.     But,   while 
treating  you  in  this  princely  fashion — for  a  Turcoman 
considers  that  a  man  of  rank  must  never  withhold  what 
his  guest  fancies — the   donor  will  compensate  himself  for 
his  own  generosity  by  praising  in  return  something  which 
is  in  your  own  possession,  and  of  course  there  is  nothing 
for  it  but  to  present  the  gift  with  a  good  grace,  no  matter 
how  much  you  may  stand  in  need  of  the  particular  article. 


A    THIEF.  229 

This  rule  does  not  apply  to  arms  and  horses,  for  a  stranger 
on  the  plains  cannot  part  with  what  are  to  him  absolute 
necessities. 

The  Yamuds,  that  is,  those  of  any  social  standing,  are 
very  particular  in  guarding  against  the  theft  of  anything 
belonging  to  a  recipient  of  their  hospitality,  and  are  ready 
to  resent  any  such  outrage  in  the  swiftest  and  severest 
manner.  The  following  is  an  instance  of  this.  The  horses, 
as  I  have  said,  are  tethered  in  the  open  air,  close  to  the 
kibitkas  of  their  owners.  They  are  protected  against  the 
heat  of  the  sun  by  day,  and  the  severity  of  the  cold  at 
night,  by  being  swathed  in  an  enormous  sheet  of  felt,  nearly 
an  inch  thick,  which  covers  them  from  ears  to  tail,  and 
meets  underneath  the  belly.  This  is  tied  round  two  or 
three  times  with  a  broad  girth,  and  will  enable  the  animal 
to  withstand  any  kind  of  weather.  The  horses  themselves 
prefer  this  mode  of  being  kept  warm,  and  I  found  it  im- 
possible to  induce  my  Turcoman  steeds  to  enter  a  stable. 
They  thus  stood  close  to  my  residence,  and  my  own  personal 
charger  was  covered  with  a  very  expensive  felt  rug.  Close 
to  the  Atterek  Delta  is  a  village  inhabited  by  what  are 
known  to  their  more  respectable  brethren  as  a  tribe  of 
Earakchi.  These  are  robbers  par  excellence.  They  are 
always  mistrusted  by  the  other  Turcomans,  whose  own 
morality  is  not  of  too  strict  an  order.  One  day  a  pair  of 
these  gentlemen  honoured  Gumush  Tep6  with  a  visit. 
They  did  not  leave  until  rather  late  in  the  evening,  and  on 
the  following  morning  my  horse-rug  had  disappeared.  I 
complained  to  old  Dourdi,  who  almost  wept  with  indignation 
on  hearing  that  his  guest  had  thus  been  despoiled  of  his 
property,  and  immediately  rushed  to  the  house  of  the  chief 
to  inform  him  of  this  breach  of  decorum.  Scarce  five 
minutes  had  elapsed  when  the  avengers  were  on  foot ;  at 
their  head  was  Agha  Jik,  the  sprightly  old  Goklan.     No 


2JO  COMPULSORY  RESTITUTION. 

time  was  lost  in  any  preliminary  inquiry,  for  no  such  in- 
quiry was  necessary.  Two  Earakchi  Turcomans  had  been 
in  our  camp  on  the  previous  evening ;  no  one  else  could  be 
guilty  of  such  a  violation  of  the  laws  of  hospitality,  and  the 
conclusion  was  at  once  drawn  that  they  must  be  the  de- 
linquents ;  and  as  one  of  them  happened  to  bear  a  worse 
character  than  the  other,  he  was  the  individual  selected  as 
the  actual  offender.  The  body  of  horsemen  proceeded 
swiftly  to  the  Earakchi  village,  and  entered  the  house  of 
the  supposed  thief.  Placing  their  knives  at  his  breast, 
they  summarily  demanded  the  restoration  of  the  stolen 
property.  When  a  Turcoman  commits  a  theft,  he  feels 
bound,  for  some  reason  which  it  is  difficult  to  understand, 
to  die  rather  than  give  back  what  he  has  purloined,  just  as 
he  will  cut  the  throat  of  a  captive  rather  than  part  with 
him  without  a  ransom.  The  Earakchi  protested,  but  the 
more  he  did  so  the  fiercer  and  more  imperative  became 
the  demand,  and  he  at  length  replied  that  although  he 
could  not  restore  what  he  had  not  taken,  he  could  supply 
a  cloth  of  equal  value.  This  logic  seemed  perfectly  satis- 
factory to  the  others.  A  rug  very  nearly  as  good  as  that 
which  had  been  abstracted  was  produced,  and  brought  away 
in  triumph.  It  was  not  quite  so  valuable  as  the  one  I  had 
lost,  but  when  asked  by  my  redressors  whether  I  felt  satis- 
fied with  it,  I  of  course  answered  that  I  was,  for  I  did  not 
wish  to  give  them  unnecessary  trouble,  fearing  that  further 
prosecution  of  my  claim  might  entail  bloodshed.  I  knew 
that  if  I  persisted,  the  least  they  would  have  felt  bound  to 
do  would  have  been  to  collect  the  amount  of  the  difference 
in  value  from  among  the  villagers.  I  have  had  similar 
experiences  with  almost  all  the  Turcomans  with  whom  I 
have  come  in  contact,  however  wild  they  were,  and  it  is 
only  of  the  children  and  lads  that  I  have  to  complain,  for 
these  latter  are  frightful  thieves  and  liars.     These  Earakchi 


TURCOMAN  PHYSIOGNOMIES.  *$i 

Turcomans  are  held  in  universal  detestation  by  the  other 
tribes  around  them,  and  the  wonder  is  that  they  have  not 
been  exterminated.  My  host  told  me  that  they  creep  into 
the  villages  at  night,  and,  cutting  through  the  exterior 
matting  and  felt  of  the  kibitka  walls  with  their  long  keen 
knives,  introduce  their  arms  and  steal  whatever  they  have 
previously  noted  while  entering  during  the  day.  Hence 
he  warned  me  not  to  hang  my  sword,  revolver,  or  any  other 
article  of  value,  against  the  wall,  but  to  place  them  beside 
me  as  I  slept.  The  village  dogs,  great  nuisances  as  they 
are,  are  well  worth  keeping,  for  the  sake  of  protection 
against  these  audacious  thieves. 

The  usual  Turcoman  physical  type,  both  male  and 
female,  is  rough,  rude,  and  vigorous,  and  quite  in  contrast 
with  that  of  the  frontier  Persian,  which  is  sleek,  cat-like, 
feeble,  and  mean.  The  worst  part  of  the  Turcoman  is  his 
head,  which  is  decidedly  conical,  the  point  being  thrown 
somewhat  to  the  rear.  A  phrenologist  would  say  that  firm- 
ness was  very  pronounced,  conscientiousness  wanting,  and 
benevolence  small.  The  features  are  not  of  that  Tartar 
cast  that  one  would  be  apt  to  suppose  in  denizens  of  East 
Caspian  districts,  and  though  here  and  there  may  be  seen 
a  suspicion  of  peeping  eye,  a  tendency  towards  flattening 
of  the  point  of  the  nose,  and  occasionally  high  cheek  bones, 
on  the  whole  the  faces  are  more  European  than  otherwise. 
In  fact,  I  have  seen  some  physiognomies  at  Gumush  Tep6 
which,  if  accompanied  by  an  orthodox  European  dress, 
would  pass  muster  anywhere  as  belonging  to  natives  of  the 
West.  It  is  among  the  women  that  the  absence  of  Euro- 
pean features  is  most  conspicuous.  There  are  many  of 
them  who  could  fairly  be  reckoned  pretty,  though  it  is  quite 
a  different  order  of  beauty  from  that  to  which  we  are  accus- 
tomed. I  recollect,  during  a  solitary  ride  along  the  banks 
of  the  Giurgen  river,  coming  upon  a  small  ova,  or  collection 


2*2  A   TURCOMAN  BELLE. 

of  Turcoman  huts.  Being  very  tired,  I  dismounted  at  the 
door  of  one  of  them,  and  attaching  my  horse's  bridle  to 
the  door-post,  entered.  The  hut  had  but  two  occupants, 
one  an  elderly  woman,  the  other  a  girl  of  apparently  about 
eighteen  years.  The  latter,  as  I  afterwards  learned,  was 
the  daughter  of  the  local  chief,  and  was  on  a  visit.  She 
was  in  full  gala  costume,  and  wore  over  her  crimson  silk 
shirt  a  coat  of  green  cloth,  fitting  very  closely  at  the  waist, 
and  falling  half-way  to  the  ankle,  the  skirt  being  cut  into 
a  series  of  plaitings  like  those  of  a  Highland  soldier's  tunic. 
The  sleeves  fitted  closely  as  far  as  the  elbows,  but  below 
that  point  they  were  exceedingly  large,  and  open  behind. 
The  edges  of  the  opening,  as  well  as  the  cuff,  were 
ornamented  by  a  double  line  of  small  spherical  silver 
buttons,  while  the  front  of  the  coat,  and  also  the  breast  of 
the  shirt,  were  decorated  with  the  usual  rows  of  hanging 
silver  coins.  Around  her  neck  was  a  large  silver  collar, 
set  with  cornelians  and  small  gold  panels,  and  supporting 
by  a  series  of  chains  a  long  cylindrical  case  containing 
talismanic  writings.  The  huge  band-box  head-dress,  which 
she  had  laid  aside,  was  of  even  more  than  the  ordinary 
preposterous  dimensions.  Its  front  was  hung  over  with 
festoons  of  small  gold  coins,  interspersed  with  star-like 
silver  ornaments,  and,  springing  from  the  centre  of  the 
top,  and  falling  backwards,  was  a  green  silk  coat  with 
sleeves,  the  seams  doubled  with  crimson,  and  the  entire 
back  covered  with  stamped  silver  ornaments.  This  young 
lady,  who,  if  she  did  not  wear  '  her  heart  upon  her  sleeve,' 
apparently  bore  her  purse  upon  her  head,  was  one  of  the 
prettiest  of  her  race  that  I  had  yet  seen.  Her  complexion 
was  remarkably  clear,  and  had  in  it  more  of  colour  than  is 
generally  to  be  met  with  in  the  sun-tanned  physiognomies 
of  her  companions.  Her  dark  eyebrows  were  arched ;  her 
delicately  formed  nose  was  of  slightly  aquiline  contour ;  her 


WOMEN.  233 

eyes  were  large,  dark,  and  intelligent ;  her  mouth  as  near  per- 
fection as  possible ;  her  chin  small,  and  remarkably  promi- 
nent. Long  brown  hair,  in  colour  approaching  to  blackness, 
fell  in  two  large  plaited  tresses  between  her  shoulders,  each 
tress  bearing  silver  pieces  extending  over  a  space  of  at 
least  two  feet,  the  coins  growing  larger  towards  the  bottom, 
where  figured  either  Russian  rouble  pieces  or  Persian  five- 
kran  ones.  Neither  of  the  ladies  was  in  the  least  abashed 
by  my  entry.  The  elder  motioned  me  to  a  seat,  and 
after  the  usual  salutations  we  entered  into  conversation. 
The  younger  one  showed  especial  curiosity  as  to  who  I  was, 
and  why  I  was  roving  about  alone  upon  the  plains.  She 
asked  me  about  the  dress  of  ladies  in  my  country ;  then 
how  I  liked  her  costume,  and  next  how  I  liked  herself. 
It  is  not  usual  to  meet  with  such  an  utter  absence  of  em- 
barrassment or  attempt  at  veiling,  even  among  Turcoman 
women,  so  that  when  she  conducted  herself  in  this  unre- 
strained manner  before  me,  a  stranger,  I  could  only  suppose 
that  her  demeanour  in  regard  to  those  with  whom  she  was 
better  acquainted  must  have  been  exceedingly  confiding  and 
Bans  gine.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  this  young  lady  is  a  very 
uncommon  example  of  the  sex  of  her  race.  It  is  among 
the  men  that  the  handsome  individuals  must  be  sought  for, 
especially  when  there  has  been  an  admixture  of  Persian 
blood.  The  scanty  beard  of  the  pure  Turcoman  is  then 
replaced  by  one  of  much  more  luxurious  proportions,  and 
of  a  darker  tint ;  the  nose  assumes  a  more  or  less  aquiline 
form,  and  the  eye  loses  the  cold  grey  expression  so  charac- 
teristic of  the  pure-blooded  dweller  on  the  Steppes.  Whether 
or  not  it  be  owing  to  the  peculiarity  of  the  race*  or  to  the 
laborious  occupations  to  which  they  are  subjected  almost 
from  infancy — grinding  corn,  carrying  water,  cooking,  and 
in  their  leisure  hours  carpet  making  and  spinning — at  a 
comparatively  early  age  they  lose  whatever  comeliness  they 


234  WOMEN. 

may  have  possessed,  and  on  approaching  anything  like  an 
advanced  age  degenerate  into  withered  and  witch-like 
beldames.  The  contrary  is  the  case  with  the  male  sex, 
probably  for  contrary  reasons,  for  a  Turcoman  of  any 
pretensions  whatever  never  occupies  himself  with  menial 
labour,  and,  indeed,  seldom  exerts  himself  in  any  way, 
except  in  a  foray  against  his  neighbours'  cattle,  or  in  a 
hostile  expedition  into  Persia.  The  woman,  in  the  midst 
of  her  family  circle,  retains  her  place  beside  the  fire,  even 
though  a  number  of  strange  men  should  enter ;  but  she  is 
not  supposed  to  go  to  another  house  where  there  is  such 
an  assembly  of  male  persons,  unless  it  be  for  the  express 
purpose  of  talking  to  the  mistress  of  that  house,  in  which 
case  she  enters  and  retires  entirely  unnoticed  by  the  people 
present,  save  by  the  person  to  whom  she  came  to  speak. 
Beside  her  own  hearth,  on  the  contrary,  she  is  saluted,  and 
returns  the  salute.  When  a  Turcoman  happens  to  possess 
more  than  one  wife,  the  latest  and  favourite  one  is  always 
the  best  dressed,  and  is  exempted  as  much  as  possible  from 
domestic  labour,  her  predecessor  or  predecessors  performing 
the  necessary  household  duties.  These  latter,  however, 
retain  a  certain  seniority,  and  are  treated  with  more  respect 
by  strangers.  In  fact,  if  a  wife  be  very  recently  married, 
she  is  understood  not  to  make  herself  too  prominent  in  the 
kibitka  in  which  she  lives. 

Turcoman  women  are  usually  very  industrious,  never 
seeming  tired  of  work.  This  is  probably  because  labour  is 
the  only  means  at  their  disposal  for  breaking  the  monotony 
of  their  otherwise  dull  lives.  I  have  seen  a  woman,  when 
unable  to  sleep,  rise  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  light 
the  smoky  astatki  lamp,  and  proceed  to  beguile  the  weary 
hours  by  grinding  corn  in  a  heavy  horizontal  stone  hand- 
mill,  for  the  morning  meal.  It  is  quite  the  exception  for  a 
man  to  fetch  water  from  the  river.     This  is  generally  done 


NURSING.  335 

by  the  younger  female  members  of  the  family,  the  daughters, 
if  there  be  any,  and  if  not,  by  the  younger  wife  or  wives, 
who  on  such  occasions  generally  carry  with  them  the 
suckling  children  or  those  who  cannot  safely  be  left  by 
themselves.  These  are  borne  astride  upon  one  hip,  the 
body  of  the  mother  being  thrown  over  to  the  opposite  side, 
one  arm  passing  round  the  child's  waist,  while  the  other 
supports  the  heavy  water  pitcher,  both  sides  being  thus 
mutually  balanced. 

As  on  board  ship  when  space  is  scarce,  the  oblong  cane 
basket  which  serves  as  a  cradle  for  young  children  is 
supported  at  one  end  by  the  double  camel-hair  rope  which 
descends  from  the  centre  of  the  dome,  the  other  being 
attached  to  the  top  of  the  lattice  work  forming  the  inside  of 
the  wall.  A  sufficiently  erudite  collector  of  nursery  rhymes 
would  no  doubt  be  highly  delighted  with  some  of  the  ditties 
crooned  by  Turcoman  women  as  they  swing  their  babies  to 
and  fro  in  this  hammock-like  machine.  The  utterances  to 
which  they  give  vent  when  persuading  their  young  offspring 
to  take  food  are  very  strange,  and  often,  when  lying  flat 
upon  my  carpet,  busily  engaged  in  writing,  I  have  lifted  up 
my  head  in  amazement  in  order  to  discover  the  object  of  the 
strange  intonations  which  reached  my  ear.  Once  the  mother 
was  uttering  hoarse,  gurgling  sounds,  like  those  of  an  uneasy 
wild  animal,  all  the  while  contorting  her  features  into  a 
variety  of  simian  grimaces  not  unworthy  of  an  hilarious 
baboon,  and  all  simply  with  a  view  of  inducing  the  child 
upon  her  lap  to  partake  of  some  fried  fish.  It  is  no  bad 
exemplification  of  the  estimation  in  which  the  Tekke  Turco- 
mans of  the  interior  were  held  by  these  Yamuds,  that 
mothers  menaced  unruly  children  with  the  threat  that  if  they 
did  not  behave  themselves  the  Tekk6s  would  be  sent  for 
directly. 

As  a  rule,  plurality  of  wives,  when  it  occurs,  does  not 


236  A  DOMESTIC  SQUABBLE. 

seem  to  disturb  the  peace  of  a  Turcoman  home,  even  though 
the  master  of  the  aladjak  does  not  often  follow  out  the 
prescription  of  the  Koran  by  providing  a  separate  habita- 
tion for  each  of  his  spouses.     Still,  '  breezes  will  ruffle  the 
flowers  sometimes/  and  I  once  had  a  notable  proof  of  this. 
A  little  after  sunset  one  evening,  as  I  was  sitting  at  the 
door  of  my  kibitka,  looking  out  across  the  waters  of  the 
Giurgen,   I  perceived  a  lurid  blaze,  which  soon  spread 
into  a  sheet  of  rolling  fire  reaching  far  away  to  the  south 
and  west.     The  suddenness  of  the  conflagration  startled  me, 
and  I  thought  it  might  be  the  result  of  one  of  those  sudden 
incursions  which  might  be  expected  at  any  moment  in  these 
regions.     Boon,  however,  my  old  host  made  his  appearance, 
stifling  his  laughter  at  something  which  he  evidently  con- 
sidered a  very  good  joke.    On  asking  him  what  all  the  fire 
was  about,  and  at  what  he  was  so  amused,  he  informed  me 
that  in  the  house  of  a  friend  of  his,  who  had  lately  married 
his  second  wife,  disputes  had  arisen  between  the  partakers 
of  his  affections.    From  words  they  had  come  to  blows,  and 
at  length  the  combatants,  finding  no  better  weapons  near, 
seized  lighted  brands  from  the  hearth,  and  pelted  them 
recklessly  at  each  other.     The  house  contained  a  quantity 
of  hemp  and  other  inflammable  material,  and  was  quickly 
in  a  blaze.    It  stood  close  to  the  margin  of  a  meadow,  in 
which,  owing  to  the  abundance  of  water,  the  grass  had 
grown  to  a  great  height.    Having  been  allowed  to  stand 
uncut,  it  had  been  dried  by  the  sun  of  the  preceding 
autumn,  and,  the  flames  spreading  to  it,  the  conflagration 
ensued. 


A   TRANS-CASPIAN  COLLEGE.  237 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SKETCHES   OF   OUMTJ8H   TEP& 

College  at  Gumush  Tope" — Professor  of  theology — Late  school  hours — Sunni 
and  Shiia — Specimen  of  sectarian  hatred — The  white  fowl  mystery — Fever 
— Hurried  burials — Mourning  rites— Returning  hadjis — Distinctive  marks 
— Trade  and  commerce — Tanning  sheepskins — Pomegranate  bark — 
Kusgun  and  yapundja — Krans  and  tomans — Disputes  about  money — 
Turcoman  measures — Recreations — The  Turcomans  and  'Punch' — Agha 
Jik's  ideas — After  nightfall. 

My  kibitka  was  within  thirty  feet  of  the  river's  edge.  In 
the  intervening  space,  standing  on  a  kind  of  earthern  pier, 
and  protected  by  boards  against  the  action  of  the  current, 
stood  another  kibitka,  of  unusually  large  dimensions.  This 
was  the  mosque  attended  by  the  more  select  portion  of 
the  community,  and  it  was  the  only  instance  I  had  seen  of 
a  covered  building  used  for  religious  purposes  by  the  Turco- 
mans. In  the  intervals  between  the  hours  of  prayer  this 
edifice  was  utilised  as  a  medressi,  or  college,  in  which  can- 
didates for  the  priesthood  were  instructed  in  reading, 
writing,  and  the  precepts  of  the  Koran,  by  an  ahound,  or 
professor,  who  passed  as  the  possessor  of  great  erudition. 
He  was  a  square,  solidly  built  man  of  about  fifty  years  of 
age,  with  a  suspiciously  Tartar-looking  nose,  a  slight  chin 
tuft,  and  still  slighter  moustache.  He  habitually  wore 
spectacles,  which  imparted  to  his  countenance,  for  a  resi- 
dent of  Gumush  Tepe,  a  wonderfully  sagacious  and  learned 
look.  He  was  an  Oozbeg,  from  Bokhara,  and  had  studied 
theology  at  the  college  of  Samarcand.    Besides  his  profes- 


238        A  PROFESSOR  OF  THEOLOGY. 

sorial  functions,   be   also   exercised  those  of  timber  and 
general  merchant  to  the  community,  for  though  he  was  a 
moullah,  or  priest,  the  injunctions  of  the  Koran  did  not 
forbid  his  engaging  in  lay  occupations.     He  was  very 
active,  and  seemed  to  sleep  but  little.    His  class  of  some 
fifteen  students,  all  young  men  of  about  seventeen  or  eighteen 
years  of  age,  generally  assembled  about  midnight,  and  from 
that  time  until    three    in  the    morning  there    wad  an 
incessant  babble  of  tongues    within  this   Central  Asian 
seminary.    All  the  pupils  were  engaged  simultaneously  in 
reading  from  the  Koran  at  the  highest  pitch  of  their  voices, 
which  were  not  very  feeble  ones.     Turcomans,  from  living 
constantly  in  the  open  air,  and  conversing  on  horseback, 
have  naturally  vigorous  voices,  and  habitually  speak  in 
very  loud  tones.    Indeed,  I  have  often  seen  two  of  them, 
seated  at  the  same  fire,  within  a  house,  adopt  the  same 
stentorian  tone  in  conversation  as  if  they  were  addressing 
each  other  from  opposite  sides  of  the  river  Giurgen.     By 
this  it  may  be  imagined  that  the  uproar  within  the  medressi 
was  no  ordinary  one,   and  that,   being  only  a  few  feet 
removed  from  my  dwelling-place,  it  was  not  easy  to  go  to 
sleep  under  such  circumstances.    Towards  three  o'clock,  by 
which  time  they  seemed  to  become  rather  fatigued,  the 
Professor  took  up  the  chorus,  and  commenced  to  expound 
the  Koran  in  a  pompous  and  pretentious  tone,  and  daylight 
would  be  well  advanced  before  he  thought  fit  to  desist. 
During  the  remainder  of  the  day  he  attended  to  his  secular 
affairs,  or  kept  an  eye  upon  his  college,  to  see  that  no  un- 
authorised intrusions  took  place  within  its  holy  precincts ; 
and  I  have  more  than  once  seen  him,  spectacles  on  nose 
and  stick  in  hand,  furiously  chasing  a    multitude  of  hens 
and  geese  out  of  this  Trans-Caspian  temple  of  theology. 
Morning  and  evening  the   old   gentleman  who  acted  as 
mutzzim  took  his  stand  before  the  door,  and  his  melancholy, 


1 1 

i 
ii 

I.! 


SECTARIAN  BITTERNESS.  239 

musical,  long-drawn  cry  might  be  heard  floating  across  the 
silent  plain,  calling  the  faithful  to  their  devotions,  a 
summons  which,  I  regret  to  say,  was  seldom  answered  save 
by  a  dozen  or  fifteen  of  the  older  and  more  respectable 
inhabitants. 

These  Turcomans  are  all  rigid  Sunnites,  and  cherish 
the  due  orthodox  detestation  of  the  cursed  Shiia  sect,  of 
which  their  neighbours  the  Persians  are  members.  They 
do  not,  in  fact,  regard  the  latter  as  Mussulmans  at  all,  and 
have  a  much  greater  regard  for  the  Jews  and  Christians. 
My  old  host  Dourdi  was  a  genuine  specimen  of  the  Sunnite. 
He  said  his  prayers  with  the  greatest  regularity,  always 
previously  washing  his  face,  hands,  and  feet,  with  rigid 
attention  to  the  rites  of  his  sect— if,  indeed,  he  would  not 
have  considered  it  blasphemy  to  describe  Sunnism  as  a  sect 
— taking  care  that  the  water  ran  in  a  proper  manner  over 
the  points  of  his  elbows,  and  not  after  the  damnable  fashion 
of  the  Shiites.  He  once  accompanied  me  on  a  shooting  ex- 
pedition along  the  coast,  as  far  as  the  old  Qumush  Tep6 
mound.  After  a  while  we  seated  ourselves  upon  its  summit, 
and  I  produced  a  cold  fowl,  some  bread,  and  a  bottle  of 
arrack,  whereon  to  breakfast.  The  old  man  was  nothing 
loth,  and  joined  heartily  in  my  repast,  taking  frequent  pulls 
at  the  arrack  bottle,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  this  in- 
dulgence was  in  direct  opposition  to  the  tenets  in  regard  to 
which  he  was  in  other  respects  so  conscientious.  All  at 
once  he  ceased  masticating — his  mouth  cram-full  of  fowl — 
as  if  some  dire  thought  had  struck  him.  '  Where,'  said  he, 
4 did  you  procure  this?'  I  guessed  at  his  meaning,  and 
replied  that  he  need  have  no  fear  on  the  score  of  the  fowl, 
that  it  had  been  duly  prepared  by  a  Mussulman,  and  that  I 
had  bought  them  in  the  bazaar  at  Asterabad  the  day  before. 
At  this  he  began  with  fury  to  spit  out  every  morsel  that 
his  mouth  contained,  uttering  ejaculations  of  pious  horror, 


340  AN  ODD  SUPERSTITION, 

and  now  and  again  applying  his  lips  to  the  arrack  bottle 
with  a  view  of  still  further  purifying  himself.  I  demanded 
what  he  meant  by  treating  food,  prepared  by  a  brother 
Mussulman,  in  that  manner,  and  assured  him  that  I  had  no 
hand  in  the  preparation.  '  Mussulman ! '  he  exclaimed. 
'  Do  you  call  those  cursed  dogs  of  Asterabad,  Mussulmans  ? 
1  They  are  Kaffirs  (unbelievers).  May  their  fathers'  graves 
'  be  eternally  defiled !  Had  it  been  yourself  who  had  killed 
'  and  prepared  this  fowl,  I  would  have  no  objection  to  it ;  but 
1  unbelieving  infidels  of  Shiites !  I  would  rather  perish  with 
'  hunger  than  taste  a  morsel  which  one  of  them  had 
'  touched  1 '  It  seemed  odd  enough  to  hear  this  old  fellow 
talking  thus  savagely  about  his  fellow  Mussulmans,  who 
differed  from  him  very  little  but  in  name ;  and  all  the 
while  grasping  by  the  neck  the  uncorked  bottle  of  spirits, 
which  his  profound  appreciation  of  the  precepts  of  the 
Koran  ought  to  have  taught  him  to  eschew.  A  propos  of 
fowls,  a  strange  idea  had  got  abroad  about  this  time,  the 
origin  of  which  I  found  it  very  difficult  to  trace.  Its 
substance  was  that  any  one  having  live  white-feathered 
fowls  of  any  description  in  his  possession  after  the  first 
of  the  coming  Bairam  would  infallibly  lose  his  life — that 
a  snake  would  issue  from  the  throat  of  each,  and  inflict  a 
fatal  bite  upon  its  owner.  When  or  how  this  idea  origi- 
nated I  have  over  and  over  again  tried  to  discover,  but  in 
vain ;  so  great,  however,  was  the  hold  which  it  took  upon 
the  popular  imagination,  both  in  Asterabad  and  on  the 
outlying  plains,  that  long  before  the  day  named,  white- 
feathered  birds  of  every  description  had  disappeared,  and 
ducks,  geese,  and  other  poultry  of  the  fatal  plumage  could  at 
the  time  be  purchased  for  the  most  trifling  sums.  I  after- 
wards heard  it  uncharitably  whispered  at  Teheran  that  the 
notion  was  set  on  foot  by  Armenian  contractors,  who  were 
charged  with  the  furnishing  of  a  new  regulation  plume  for 


MALADIES.-INTERMENT.  241 

certain  troops  in  the  Shah's  sendee,  and  which  it  was 
necessary  should  be  composed  of  white  feathers,  and  that 
these  gentlemen  adopted  this  method  of  securing  a  plentiful 
and  cheap  supply.  I  will  not,  however,  vouch  for  the 
truth  of  this  explanation. 

Though  my  residence  at  Gumush  Tepe  was  principally 
during  the  commencement  oi  the  year,  deaths  by  fever  were 
painfully  frequent,  the  low,  swampy  country  being  pregnant 
with  ague.  The  unfortunate  Turcomans  took  no  remedial 
measures,  quinine  being  unknown  to  them  save  by  repute. 
They  had  heard  of  a  wonderful  medicine  which  could  cure 
them,  gina-gina,  as  they  called  it,  and  when  it  became 
known  that  I  had  this  much-prized  remedy  in  my  posses- 
sion my  kibitka  was  besieged  night  and  day  with  applicants. 
This  intermittent  fever  and  ague,  when  neglected,  reduces 
the  sufferer  to  a  miserable  condition ;  he  becomes  the 
colour  of  a  corpse,  incessant  vomitings  set  in,  and  in  two  or 
three  years  he  dies,  a  mere  skeleton.  Among  Mahometans 
the  breath  has  scarcely  left  the  body  before  the  remains  are 
hurried  to  the  grave.  It  was  not  unusual,  in  crossing  the 
wide  waste  spaces  around  the  aoutt,  to  meet  a  party  of  ten 
or  twelve  persons  going  at  a  run  towards  the  old  mound 
beside  the  sea-shore — the  ordinary  burying-place,  six  bear- 
ing upon  their  shoulders  a  corpse,  wrapped  in  a  sheet,  the 
others  relieving  them  in  turn.  According  to  their  ideas, 
the  soid  is  in  suffering  so  long  as  the  body  remains  over 
ground  after  death.  No  doubt  this  precept  is  inculcated  by 
way  of  enforcing,  in  hot  countries,  the  speedy  burial  of  the 
deceased ;  and  each  person  who  assists  in  thus  carrying  the 
dead  body  to  its  last  resting-place  is  supposed  to  receive 
some  special  blessing  or  indulgence.  One  is  frequently 
awakened  in  the  night  by  a  shrill  burst  of  wailing  from  a 
neighbouring  kibitka,  the  cries  of  the  women  intimating  that 
a  member  of  the  family  has  died.    This  lasts  for  a  few 

vol.  x»  B 


242  MOURNING. 

minutes,  and  then  the  tramp  of  the  bearers  is  heard.  The 
real  funeral  ceremonies  commence  subsequently,  and  are 
carried  to  an  unreasonable  length.  The  male  relatives 
gather  from  far  and  near,  and  a  large  carpet  is  spread 
before  the  door  for  their  accommodation,  the  women  of  the 
family  remaining  within  the  hut.  As  each  party  of  new- 
comers arrives  within  fifty  yards  of  the  place,  each  places 
the  wrist  of  his  right  arm  across  his  eyes,  and  bursts  into  a 
series  of  the  most  hideous  howls,  supposed  to  be  expressive 
of  deep  grief,  though  to  me  they  would  convey  the  impression 
of  being  produced  by  violent  rage  on  the  part  of  the  utterer. 
Step  by  step  the  relatives  draw  near,  howling  all  the  time, 
and  pausing  at  every  three  or  four  steps.  Then  they 
circle  slowly  round  the  dwelling,  uttering  more  terrible 
cries  than  before.  Having  made  the  circuit  of  the  house 
three  times,  they  kneel  upon  the  carpet,  where  the  others 
are  already  seated,  and,  bowing  their  faces  to  the  ground, 
and  resting  upon  their  arms,  continue  their  demonstrations  of 
sorrow,  which  gradually  become  less  and  less  vehement  until 
they  cease  entirely.  Then  comes  a  pause,  after  which  each 
one  sits  up  and  enters  into  conversation  with  the  company ; 
water-pipes  are  brought,  and  general  topics  are  discussed. 
At  the  moment  when  the  last  party  of  men  cease  their 
uproar,  the  women  inside  the  hut  commence  replying, 
giving  vent  to  a  kind  of  mournful  jabbering  accompanied  by 
rhythmical  clapping  of  the  hands,  and  now  and  again 
breaking  into  a  kind  of  recitative  chant,  probably  laudatory 
of  the  merits  of  the  deceased,  though  I  was  never  able  to 
understand  the  burden  of  the  muffled  notes  which  issued 
from  behind  the  felt  walls.  This  uncouth  mourning 
continues  during  the  first  three  or  four  days,  and  the  family 
of  the  deceased,  if  rich  enough,  order  a  sheep  to  be  killed 
for  consumption  by  those  who  attend  the  obsequies,  some  of 
the  richer  relatives  performing  a  like  act  of  hospitality. 


MOURNING.  343 

Though  the  more  immediate  and  formal  rites  terminate  in 
a  few  days,  three  or  four  months  elapse  before  the  cere- 
monies are  altogether  concluded,  for  during  this  period  all 
those  friends  from  a  distance  who  are  unable  to  attend 
during  the  first  days  make  their  appearance  from  time  to 
time,  and  the  whole  thing  is  repeated.  Some  months  pre- 
viously to  my  arrival,  a  death  had  occurred  in  Dourdi's 
kibitka,  and  once,  about  midnight,  when  busily  engaged  in 
writing  out  my  notes,  I  was  terribly  startled  by  a  diabolical 
yelling  within  two  feet  of  me,  just  outside  the  felt  wall. 
I  hastily  awakened  my  host,  and  inquired  the  reason  of  the 
disturbance,  when  he  informed  me  of  the  demise  which  had 
taken  place.  Though  when  the  slightest  strange  noise 
occurs  within  the  village  during  the  night  the  dogs  at  once 
burst  out  into  furious  barking,  so  well  is  this  death  chant 
known  to  them,  that  they  do  not,  on  hearing  it,  make  the 
usual  demonstrations.  On  the  contrary,  I  have  known 
them  join  in  the  wail,  in  plaintive  unison.  When  the  chief 
of  the  household  dies,  a  small  mound  of  earth  about  two 
feet  in  height  is  erected  close  to  the  dwelling  as  a  memorial 
of  him,  and  the  sites  of  former  villages  or  encampments 
are  often  to  be  recognised  by  the  ground  being  dotted 
with  these  mementoes.  Of  course,  in  the  event  of  the 
demise  of  a  chief  the  obsequies  are  on  a  larger  scale,  and 
proportionately  lengthened,  and  the  '  funeral  baked  meats ' 
are  served  out  liberally  to  all  comers — who,  when  viands 
are  about,  are,  I  need  not  say,  pretty  numerous.  Over 
the  grave  itself  is  raised  a  mound  of  four  or  five  feet  in 
height.  The  greater  the  rank  of  the  deceased,  the  larger  is 
the  mound. 

Every  Turcoman  who  can  possibly  afford  the  expense  of 
the  journey  makes  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  To  avoid  passing 
through  the  country  of  the  hated  Shiites,  pilgrims  prefer 
the  route  through  Russian  territory,  and  up  to  a  short  time 

B  2 


244  PILGRIMS. 

ago  went  by  way  of  Gumush  Tep6,  Baku,  Poti,  and  Con- 
stantinople. Now,  since  the  opening  of  the  railroad 
between  Krasnavodsk  and  the  Akhal  Tekke,  this  route  is 
preferred.  I  have  been  informed  that  during  the  next  two 
years  it  will  be  open  free  of  charge  to  these  or  any  other 
Turcoman  travellers.  At  least,  so  I  was  told  at  Baku.  I 
saw  some  hadjis  returning  to  Gumush  Tep6.  They  were 
three  in  number,  and  had  been  announced  some  hours 
beforehand.  Many  persons  went  out  on  horseback  to  meet 
them,  to  be  the  first  to  receive  their  blessing  in  all  its 
newness  and  freshness,  and  by  contact  with  them  to  absorb 
a  portion  of  the  recently  acquired  holiness  into  their 
own  persons.  As  they  drew  near  the  village,  crowds  of  old 
and  young  flocked  out  to  meet  them,  saluting  them  cordially 
in  the  Turcoman  fashion.  The  newly-arrived  pilgrims  had 
large  white  turban  cloths  rolled  round  their  black  sheep- 
skin tiaras.  Anyone  who  has  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca 
is  entitled  ever  afterwards  to  wear  a  white  turban,  and  enjoys 
considerable  reputation  for  sanctity.  As  far  as  I  could  see, 
to  a  large  extent  he  makes  this  latter  redound  not  a  little 
to  his  own  personal  and  material  comfort.  Everyone  is 
anxious  to  hear  the  story  of  the  traveller's  experiences  in 
the  foreign  countries  through  which  he  has  passed ;  and  the 
traveller  in  nowise  loth  to  detail  them  again  and  again,  to 
the  accompaniment  of  unlimited  pilaff,  tea,  and  water- 
pipes. 

The  commerce  and  manufactures  of  Gumush  Tep6,  as 
may  readily  be  imagined,  are  neither  extensive  nor  varied. 
In  fact,  up  to  the  time  of  the  arrival  of  the  expeditionary 
troops  at  Tchikislar,  the  Turcomans  had  little  notion  of 
anything  of  the  kind.  After  that  event  they  were  actively 
occupied  in  supplying  the  camp  with  firewood  from  the 
coast  near  Gez,  with  hay  from  their  own  plains  and  river 
banks,  and  with  all  the  corn  and  rice  which  they  could 


COMMERCE  AND   TRADE.  245 

manage  to  extract  from  the  Persians.  Apart  from  this 
I  do  not  know  of  any  exports.  The  carpets  which  they 
make  are  retained  for  their  own  use;  the  slow  rate  at 
which  they  are  produced,  and  the  high  price  which  would 
necessarily  be  asked  for  them,  would  effectually  extinguish 
any  attempt  at  commerce  in  such  articles.  The  greater 
portion  of  their  commerce  is  therefore  in  the  shape  of 
imports,  for  they  consume  large  quantities  of  tea  and  sugar. 
These  commodities  do  not  come  from  Tckikislar  and  Baku, 
but  direct  from  Asterabad.  Even  with  the  people  of  the 
latter  city  the  transactions  are  on  a  limited  scale,  no  con- 
fidence whatever  existing  between  buyer  and  seller.  All 
bargains  are  of  a  ready-money  character,  and  ready  money 
is  very  scarce  among  the  Turcomans.  Calicoes,  both  plain 
and  printed,  are  also  largely  imported ;  these  are  chiefly  of 
Bussian  manufacture,  as  would  naturally  be  supposed, 
though  French  prints  are  occasionally  to  be  seen  upon  the 
piles  of  merchandise  within  the  kibitkas  of  the  more  exten- 
sively dealing  merchants.  These  imported  articles  are  sold 
in  retail  by  those  Turcomans  who  play  the  rdle  of  shop- 
keepers, at  an  enormous  profit,  fifty  per  cent,  at  least  upon 
the  retail  price  at  Asterabad.  It  is  highly  amusing  to 
watch  the  local  merchant  as  he  serves  his  customers  with 
tea  and  sugar.  The  terazi,  or  scales,  are  of  the  rudest 
description,  and  consist  of  a  bar  of  turned  wood  pierced  in  the 
middle  by  a  hole,  through  which  passes  a  thong,  knotted  at 
one  end.  The  pans  are  composed  of  half-gourds,  rudely 
supported  by  leather  thongs.  My  host,  who  was  himself  a 
merchant  in  a  small  way,  when  selling  two  krans*  worth 
(two  francs)  of  sugar,  was  accustomed  to  place  an  iron  boat- 
bolt,  his  dagger,  and  a  small  adze  in  one  scale  as  the  exact 
balance  of  the  quantum  which  he  proposed  to  give  in  ex- 
change for  that  sum  of  money.  I  have  often  managed  to 
penetrate  into  a  Turcoman  house  through  having  to  make 


246  A  PRETTY  SHOPKEEPER.    FISH. 

purchases  of  groceries  and  other  commodities,  and  have 
remarked  that  whatever  slight  remnant  of  Eastern  jealousy 
with  regard  to  women  might  exist  among  .the  other  Turco- 
mans, these  shopkeepers,  owing  to  their  continued  and 
necessary  contact  with  both  sexes,  have  no  trace  of  such 
feeling  remaining.  One  day  I  went  to  a  kibitka  shop  to  buy 
some  tea.  Instead  of  a  counter  there  was  a  long,  broad 
board,  slightly  raised  from  the  mat  on  which  it  was  sup- 
ported, and  covered  with  bowls  and  packages  of  tea,  loaves 
of  sugar,  and  rolls  of  tumbaki.  Behind  this  board,  extended 
at  full  length,  her  shoulders  reclining  upon  a  large  crimson 
silk  pillow,  was  the  wife  of  the  proprietor,  who  in  his 
absence  conducted  the  concern.  She  was  dressed  in  the 
extreme  of  the  Turcoman  fashion.  Her  ornaments  were 
more  copious  than  usual,  and  she  was,  next  to  the  young 
lady  whom  I  have  described  as  having  met  in  the  kibitka 
along  the  Giurgen,  the  finest  Turcoman  woman  I  have  seen. 
She  seemed  rather  relieved  by  the  advent  of  some  one  to 
admire  her  costume,  and  herself  too,  I  suppose,  for  she  had 
apparently  been  wasting  '  her  sweetness  on  the  desert  air  ' 
for  a  length  of  time. 

The  supply  of  fish  in  the  Caspian,  and  especially  in  the 
neighbourhoods  of  the  estuaries  of  rivers,  is  enormous,  and 
if  the  Turcomans  had  any  sort  of  commercial  spirit  they 
might  find  ample  occupation  in  catching  and  drying  it, 
were  it  only  for  the  supply  of  their  brother  Turcomans 
inhabiting  the  plain  to  the  eastward.  This  Caspian  fish, 
now  that  a  railroad  has  penetrated  to  the  interior  of 
Central  Asia,  will  probably  be  a  notable  article  of  commerce 
in  the  future. 

The  manufactures  of  Gumush  Tepe,  after  those  of  the 
wooden  framework  for  kibitkas,  and  the  building  of  fishing 
luggers  and  other  craft,  of  which  one  is  constructed  now 
and  then,  include  that  of  sheepskin  overcoats  (yapundjas 


TANNING  SHEEPSKINS.  247 

or  kusguns).  The  fresh  skins  are  salted  on  the  side  opposite 
to  the  wool,  and  then  packed  together  in  bundles.  When 
thoroughly  dry  they  are  scraped  with  a  sharp  morsel  of 
wood,  and  afterwards  with  pumice-stone,  until  their  inner 
surfaces  are  tolerably  smooth.  They  are  then  thickly 
sprinkled  with  powdered  alum,  and  a  boiling  decoction  of 
pomegranate  rind  is  poured  over  them.  They  are  allowed 
to  dry,  and  the  operation  is  then  repeated.  The  skin  thus 
undergoes  a  kind  of  tanning,  which  gives  it  a  bright 
amber  tint,  deepening  in  proportion  to  the  number  of 
operations  to  which  it  is  subjected.  It  is,  however,  very 
rigid  and  hard,  and  requires  to  undergo  a  softening 
process  before  it  can  be  sewn  into  garments.  One  extremity 
of  the  skin  is  attached  to  an  iron  loop  situated  at  the  top 
of  the  doorway.  A  small  forked  tree-branch,  each  limb  of 
the  fork  a  foot  long,  and  having  the  inside  of  the  angle 
carefully  peeled  and  polished,  is  attached  by  one  of  its 
limbs  to  a  stout  cord,  which  in  turn  supports  a  kind  of 
stirrup  in  which  the  foot  is  placed.  The  operator  seizes 
the  lower  end  of  the  suspended  skin  in  his  left  hand,  and, 
holding  the  whole  of  the  skin  in  a  more  or  less  horizontal 

1 

position,  places  the  inside  of  the  fork  near  its  upper 
extremity.  Then,  leaning  with  his  entire  weight  upon  the 
stirrup,  he  drags  the  fork  along  the  whole  length  cf  the 
interior  of  the  skin.  This  is  repeated  again  and  again, 
until  the  tanned  hide  loses  its  stiffness,  and  becomes  as 
pliant  as  a  piece  of  chamois  leather.  As  many  as  four 
sheepskins  will  go  to  make  up  one  of  these  Jcusguns,  or  over- 
coats, for  they  are  of  very  large  dimensions,  and  the  sleeves 
project  for  a  foot  beyond  the  extremity  of  the  hand,  the 
extra  length  of  sleeve  being  used  as  a  glove  in  cold  weather. 
A  good  coat  of  this  description  costs  from  fifteen  to  twenty 
shillings.  When  the  hide  is  that  of  lambs,  or  the  wool  is 
of  a  finer  quality,  the  price  rises  in  proportion,  especially 


248  LEATHER  COATS.— COINAGE. 

when  the  front  is  stamped  and  embroidered,  in  which  cases 
I  have  known  five  or  eight  pounds  to  be  paid  for  a  kusgun. 
The  embossed  and  ornamented  sheepskin  coats  are  but 
little  known  among  the  Turcomans,  being  principally  worn 
by  the  people  of  Derguez  and  by  the  Afghans.  In  dry 
weather  these  garments  are  worn  with  the  tanned  side  turned 
outwards,  the  wool  being  next  the  body,  but  during  rain  or 
snow  storms  the  wool  is  turned  outwards  for  the  purpose  of 
shedding  the  water.  The  tanned  side,  if  exposed  to  con- 
tinued wet,  will,  by  reason  of  its  imperfect  preparation, 
become  indurated,  and  be  liable  to  get  torn.  Owing  to  the 
proximity  of  the  pomegranate  jungles  of  Asterabad,  which 
supply  the  tanning  materials  in  the  shape  of  the  rind  of 
the  fruit,  and  the  nearness  of  Asterabad  and  Baku,  from 
which  alum  can  be  obtained,  Gumush  Tepe  enjoys  a 
tolerably  good  trade  in  these  tanned  hides,  many  of  which 
are  disposed  of  to  the  Turcomans  who  live  farther  inland. 

Up  to  the  arrival  of  the  Bussians  at  Tchikislar,  the  only 
coins  known  at  Gumush  Tepe  were  the  kran,  equal  in 
value  to  a  franc,  and  the  toman,  or  gold  ten-franc  piece. 
These  comprised  the  whole  of  the  money  recognised  by  the 
Turcomans,  and,  in  fact,  do  so  to  the  present  day,  except 
on  the  Caspian  littoral.  In  the  vicinity  of  the  latter,  how- 
ever, not  only  silver  roubles,  but  paper  ones,  are  readily, 
and  indeed  eagerly  received.  It  was  a  long  time  before  the 
Turcomans  could  be  got  to  understand  the  nature  of  paper 
money,  but  as  they  now  see  that  in  the  Armenian  ware- 
houses and  shops  at  Tchikislar  it  will  stand  them  in  better 
stead  than  their  own  dumpy  silver  coins,  they  have  fallen 
readily  into  its  use.  Within  the  last  three  or  four  years 
the  coinage  of  the  Persian  mint  has  been  remodelled,  and 
krans  stamped  in  a  European  style,  flattened  out  to  the  size 
of  a  franc,  are  now  issued,  instead  of  the  little,  irregularly 
shaped,  thick  morsels  of  silver,  broken  at  the  edges.     There 


UNCERTAIN  COINAGE.  249 

are  also  two-Aran  and  ftve-kran  pieces.  These  also  are 
received  by  the  Gumush  Tep6  folk ;  but  there  are  places 
further  up  the  country  where  the  Turcomans  will  have 
nothing  to  do  with  them,  and  will  accept  only  the  old- 
fashioned  kran  and  toman.  Even  the  toman  is  not  always 
willingly  received,  for  as  a  rule  the  Turcomans  have  little  or 
no  gold,  and  do  not  understand  it.  Owing  to  their  variety, 
and  to  the  different  dates  at  which  they  have  been  coined, 
these  hrans  are  a  constant  source  of  dispute  between  buyer 
and  seller,  as  any  traveller  in  this  part  of  the  world  will 
have  had  emphatically  brought  under  his  notice.  There  is 
one  species  of  kran  which  to  the  ordinary  observer  is 
entirely  indistinguishable  from  the  others.  This  kran 
was  struck  at  the  town  of  Hamadan,  in  Persia,  and  no 
Persian  or  Turcoman  will  accept  it  unless  a  percent- 
age be  deducted.  I  could  never  definitely  understand 
the  reason  of  this.  Some  said  that  the  silver  was  impure ; 
others  that  the  silver  was  pure,  but  that  the  coins  were 
under  the  proper  weight ;  others,  again,  that  it  did  not  bear 
the  proper  stamp,  and  so  on.  Each  person  had  his  own 
particular  objection,  and  the  end  of  it  all  was  that  this  kran 
was  usually  only  received  after  an  abatement  of  one-tenth 
of  its  nominal  value.  There  is  another  kind  of  kran  known 
as  the  Queen  Mother,  which,  like  the  new  one,  bears  the 
impress  of  a  lion  and  sun,  a  crown,  and  a  wreath  of  laurel 
leaves.  This  was  the  result  of  the  first  attempt  to  imitate 
European  coinage.  It  is  held  in  still  lower  estimation 
than  the  last-mentioned  one,  and  there  are  sundry 
others  which  come  into  the  same  category.  Then  there 
are  the  false  ones,  and  those  of  mixed  metal;  also  those 
manufactured  by  the  Turcomans  themselves,  out  of  suffi- 
ciently pure  silver,  but  with  the  inscription  in  intaglio 
instead  of  relievo.  The  consequence  of  these  differences, 
and  of  the  nice  distinctions  made  between  them,  is  that 


250  MEASURES. 

if  you  have  to  pay  away  in  kran$  a  sum  equal  to  five  pounds 
sterling,  the  best  part  of  a  day  is  wasted  in  examining  the 
coins  one  by  one,  and  in  hearing  the  arguments  pro  and 
con  as  to  the  relative  merits  of  each. 

Another  endless  source  of  dispute  among  the  Turco- 
mans is  in  regard  to  measure.  When  any  material  is  sold 
by  measure,  calico  for  instance,  the  arshun,  or  gez,  is 
employed.  This  measure  is  the  distance  between  the  tip  of 
the  nose  and  that  of  the  fingers,  the  arm  being  outstretched. 
Of  course  its  length  is  entirely  dependent  upon  the  dimen- 
sions of  the  arm  of  the  measurer,  and  interminable  are  the 
controversies  as  to  whether  the  calico  shall  be  measured  by 
the  vendor  or  by  the  purchaser.  Another  kind  of  measur- 
ing is  employed  in  the  vending  of  corn — the  chanak.  This 
literally  means  f  bowl,'  but  it  has  also  come  to  signify  the 
quantity  of  corn  which,  piled  to  the  utmost,  can  be  held  in 
the  two  palms,  when  joined  after  the  manner  of  a  basin. 
The  sizes  of  the  hands  of  these  Turcomans  vary  very  much, 
and  a  great  variety  of  disputes  is  the  consequence.  There 
is  another  peculiarity  in  connexion  with  selling  by  measure. 
When  the  orthodox  chanak  bowl,  one  of  certain  recognised 
dimensions,  is  used,  the  buyer  is  generally  allowed  to 
measure  for  himself.  He  takes  his  place  by  the  heap  of 
corn,  and  his  open  sack  stands  ready  at  his  side.  He  fills 
the  chanak  with  his  hands,  heaping  the  corn  carefully  on  so 
that  it  may  rise  as  high  as  possible  in  a  conical  shape, 
and  while  a  single  grain  more  can  be  got  to  remain  on  the 
pile,  he  will  not  relinquish  his  attempts  to  be  the  gainer,  be 
it  by  never  so  little.  All  this  time  he  keeps  repeating  '  one, 
one,  one/  '  two,  two,  two,'  alluding  to  the  first  or  second 
chanak y  as  the  case  may  be,  which  he  is  engaged  in  filling 
up.  Immediately  upon  pouring  the  contents  of  the  bowl 
into  his  sack,  he  begins  to  fill  afresh,  again  incessantly 
repeating  the  number  of  the  chanak.     It  is  curious  to  mark 


PASTIMES.  251 

the  expressions  upon  the  faces  of  merchant  and  buyer — the 
avarice  upon  the  countenance  of  the  one,  and  the  anxiety 
on  that  of  the  other.  From  such  exhibitions  as  these  I 
have  often  turned  away  with  disgust. 

It  is  not  often  that  the  Turcomans  indulge  in  amuse- 
ments. Their  indoor  recreations  appear  to  be  confined  to 
chess,  and  a  game  of  odd  and  even,  played  with  the  red  and 
white  knuckle-bones  of  sheep,  the  red  ones  being  tinted 
with  cochineal.  In  the  open  air,  on  certain  occasions,  such 
as  weddings,  and  during  Bmram,  they  have  races,  and  what 
the  Arabs  would  call  fantasia.  This  latter  consists  of  a 
number  of  young  men,  mounted  on  swift  horses,  with  drawn 
swords  and  loaded  muskets,  who  ride  wildly  about,  going 
through  a  mimic  combat,  and  discharging  their  pieces  right 
and  left.  Among  the  children  I  noticed  the  game  of  '  tip- 
cat,' and  I  have  also  seen  genuine  kite-flying.  The  paper 
kite  is  here  termed  thomase.  Whether  its  use  be  indigenous 
to  the  country,  or  whether  it  has  been  imported,  I  cannot 
say,  but  the  Turcomans  told  me  that  it  was  of  great 
antiquity.  I  have  seen  the  elder  boys  playing  at  '  hockey,' 
or  '  hurling,'  as  it  is  called  in  Ireland,  just  in  the  same  way 
that  it  is  played  at  home. 

Of  art,  delineative  or  otherwise,  the  Turcoman  has  no 
notion  whatever.  I  have  shown  the  Gumush  Tep6  people 
drawings  from  the  '  Illustrated  London  News '  and  '  Punch,' 
but  the  pictures  failed  to  convey  the  slightest  idea,  unless, 
indeed,  the  spectator  took  up  some  absurd  notion,  utterly 
at  variance  with  the  object  of  the  design.  Still,  they  were 
never  ceasing  in  their  curiosity,  and  would  gaze  for  hours 
and  hours  at  a  copy  of  '  Punch,'  turned  sideways  or  upside 
down — to  them  it  was  a  matter  of  indifference  which.  I 
only  remember  one  occasion  upon  which  a  Turcoman — old 
Agha  Jik,  who  had  obtained  compensation  from  the  thief 
who  stole  my  horse-cloth — succeeded  in  discovering,  in  one 


35*        A  PICTORIAL  PROBLEM.— ANNOYANCES. 

of  Mr.  Bambourne's  allegorical  cartoons  in  '  Punch/  the 
head  of  Mr.  Gladstone.  The  right  honourable  gentleman 
is  represented  as  a  hermit  crab,  leaving  the  shell  which 
served  him  as  a  former  residence,  and  changing  to  a  larger 
one — another  constituency.  '  This,  I  can  see,  is  a  man's 
head,'  said  the  Turcoman;  'but  what  is  this?'  pointing 
to  the  body  of  the  hermit  crab.  '  That,'  said  I,  '  is  a  kind 
of  fish.'  •  Does  it  live  in  the  water  ? '  asked  he.  '  Yes/  I 
replied.  *  Then/  observed  he,  '  this  must  be  a  eu-adam  ' 
(a  marine  man).  '  Just  so/  I  said,  utterly  wearied  by  my 
endeavours  to  explain,  and  having  but  little  hope  of  bring- 
ing home  to  the  minds  of  my  hearers  the  political  significa- 
tion of  the  design.  I  afterwards  heard  Agha  Jik  explaining 
to  his  friends  that,  as  I  had  been  telling  them  that  England 
was  surrounded  by  water,  doubtless  when  the  population 
became  very  large  some  were  obliged  to  live  in  the  sea. 

In  the  midst  of  such  incidents  as  these,  and  in  observing 
the  manners  and  customs  of  these  semi-savage  people,  I 
contrived  to  get  through  the  long  weary  days  in  this  out- 
of-the-way  place  beyond  the  Caspian.  It  was  impossible 
to  do  any  literary  work  during  the  day,  and  when  after  the 
final  meal  the  family  lay  down  to  rest,  and  the  venomous 
yelp  of  the  jackals,  answered  by  the  deep  baying  of  the 
village  dogs,  announced  that  the  time  for  repose  for  the 
Turcomans  had  come,  I  felt  relieved,  as  I  could  then  be 
alone,  follow  out  my  thoughts,  and  commit  them  to  paper. 
Thus  occupied,  I  have  sat  on  my  carpet,  beside  the  smoky 
astatki  lamp,  far  into  the  small  hours,  and  have  lain  down 
just  as  old  Dourdi's  wife  was  rising  to  commence  grinding 
flour  for  the  morning  meal  in  her  horizontal  quern.  At  first, 
the  sensation  of  lying  upon  the  floor  of  one  of  these  kibitkas 
is  a  very  curious  one.  One's  ear,  in  contact  with  the  ground, 
brings  to  him  all  manner  of  murmurs  and  sounds  from 
around,  and  he  can  hear  the  various  conversations  going 


NIGHT.  253 

on  in  the  neighbouring  kibitkas,  or  the  tramp  of  distant 
belated  horsemen  coming  towards  the  village.  Sometimes 
one  wakes  up  suddenly,  and  by  the  dim,  smouldering  fire- 
light sees  the  centre  and  radiating  ribs  of  the  domed  roof 
like  some  huge  arachnoid  polypus  brooding  above  him,  and 
stooping  to  grasp  him  in  its  outstretched  tentacles.  This 
was  the  form  of  nightmare  which  commonly  oppressed  mo 
in  my  scanty  hours  of  sleep  in  the  kibitka. 


254  RESIGNATION  OF  TERGUKASOFF. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

GUMUSH  TEPi   TO  ASTERABAD. 

General  Mouravieff—  Night  scene  on  the  Giurgen — Embarking  for  Tchifeialar- 
Wild  fowl — Fishing  stations — At  sea — Wading  ashore — Moullah  Dourdi— 
The  Grand  Hotel — Colonel  Malama — Discussion  about  the  frontier — 
Timour  Beg — Banished  again — Back  to  Gumush  Tope" — Smoking  apparatus 
— Beer  drinking  and  casuistry — An  unnecessary  call — A  storm  sky — The 
snow  tenkia — Effects  at  Kenar  Gez — The  plains  under  snow— On  the  road 
to  Asterabad — Cattle  storm  shelters — Dying  sheep — Testing  for  blood — 
Turcomans  camping — An  improvised  vehicle — A  difficult  ford — A  camel 
in  a  difficulty — Swollen  streams — Large  mushrooms — Tortoises — Luxuriant 
grass  growth — Suspected  Turcomans — Muddy  jungle — Wild  boars. 

I  had  been  residing  continuously  at  Gumush  Tep6  about 
three  months,  when  some  Turcomans  who  had  returned 
with  a  lugger  from  Tchikislar  brought  me  intelligence  of 
the  resignation  of  General  Tergukasoff,  and  the  appoint- 
ment ad  interim ,  to  the  command  of  the  expeditionary  forces, 
of  Major-General  Mouravieff.  This  change  in  the  direction 
of  affairs  gave  me  some  hope  that  I  might  after  all  be  per- 
mitted to  follow  the  operations  of  the  Russian  columns,  and 
I  determined  to  try  my  fortunes  once  more  at  the  camp. 
I  had  considerable  difficulty  in  inducing  any  of  the  Turco- 
mans who  ordinarily  travelled  to  and  fro  between  Gumush 
Tepe  and  Tchikislar  with  forage  and  wood  supplies  for  the 
camp  to  allow  me  to  accompany  them,  as  they  knew  that 
since  my  last  visit  to  the  Russian  lines  I  had  underlain  a 
ban,  and  that  if  I  again  essayed  to  return  I  should  in  all 
probability  be  summarily  expelled.  By  dint  of  great  per- 
suasion, however,  and  the  use  of  a  good  deal  of  diplomacy. 


A  NIGHT  VOYAGE.  255 

I  succeeded  in  making  them  believe  that  it  was  necessary 
and  permissible  for  me  to  have  an  interview  with  the  new 
general,  and,  aided  by  the  efforts  of  my  host,  I  at  length 
managed  to  discover  the  owner  of  a  lodka  who  agreed  to 
convey  me  along  the  coast  to  the  Russian  encampment. 

It  was  a  pitch  dark  night  on  March  4, 1880,  a  little  over 
a  year  since  I  had  arrived  at  Baku.  The  stars  looked  large 
and  glittering  in  the  inky  sky- a  phenomenon  which  I 
have  often  remarked  in  certain  states  of  the  atmosphere 
beyond  the  Caspian — as  I  stepped  from  the  door  of  my 
kibitka,  accompanied  by  old  Dourdi,  to  embark  on  board  the 
craft  which  he  had  found  for  me.  He  had  been  at  great 
pains  to  secure  trustworthy  persons  to  convey  me  to  the 
camp,  for  he  was  fearful  about  committing  me  to  the  care 
of  the  first  person  who  offered,  lest  he,  knowing  that  I  was 
not  in  favour  at  the  Russian  head-quarters,  should  play  me 
some  trick  en  voyage.  He  was  also  anxious  that  I  should 
return  safely,  especially  as  I  had  promised  to  bring  back  a 
new  teapot  for  his  wife,  a  brass  one  if  such  a  thing  could  be 
found.  Taking  a  stick  two  feet  in  length,  and  about  an  inch 
in  diameter,  he  wrapped  it  with  rags  to  a  distance  of  six  inches 
from  the  point,  and,  dipping  it  in  the  jar  of  black  residual 
naphtha,  or  astatki,  when  saturated  he  rolled  it  in  the  ashes 
of  the  wood  fire,  and  lighted  it  at  the  lamp.  It  blazed  up, 
giving  a  lurid  flame  of  a  foot  high,  and  we  stepped  out  into 
the  obscurity.  We  threaded  our  way  along  the  river's 
edge,  where  the  reed  bundles  mingled  with  the  earth,  and, 
propped  up  on  the  side  next  the  water  by  rude  piles  and 
planking,  formed  a  kind  of  quay,  the  elastic  surface  of  which 
yielded  to  the  foot  like  an  asphalte  roadway  during  very 
hot  weather.  As  we  went  along  the  dogs  rushed  at  us  in 
their  usual  ferocious  manner,  and  stray  villagers  appeared 
constantly  out  of  the  gloom,  gazing  suspiciously  at  us  as 
we  passed.    People  who  are  out  in  these  parts  at  this  time 


256  PREPARING  TO  START 

of  night  are  generally  supposed  to  be  on  some  errand  which 
does  not  bode  good  to  anyone.  Then  we  reached  a  muddy 
creek,  stretching  a  hundred  yards  from  the  river,  in  which 
were  two  or  three  luggers  in  course  of  construction,  and 
which  we  crossed  on  planks  laid  over  rough  trestles  such 
as  are  to  be  seen  in  dock  excavation  works.  On  the  other 
6ide  we  found  a  dug-out  canoe,  into  which  we  squeezed 
ourselves.  Dourdi  planted  the  flaming  torch  at  one  end  of 
our  fragile  boat,  and  we  shoved  off  into  the  dark  river.  It 
was  a  picturesque  sight.  The  ripples,  stirred  by  the  prow, 
glittered  in  the  yellow  glare  of  the  torch,  which  shot  an 
uncertain,  wavy  light  on  the  dusky  outlines  of  the  anchored 
lodkas,  and  on  the  black,  alligator-like  tdimuls  like  our  own, 
that  moved  silently  by,  each  propelled,  as  ours  was,  by  a 
single  shovel-shaped  paddle.  The  tall,  dark  figures  of  the 
boatmen,  standing  erect,  seemed  so  many  spectral  forms 
gliding  along  the  sable  surface.  We  crossed  the  river 
obliquely,  going  towards  a  solitary  kibitka  lying  a  hundred 
yards  lower  down  on  the  opposite  side,  from  the  open  door 
of  which  proceeded  the  faint  gleam  of  a  lamp.  A  large 
one-masted  lugger  lay  over  on  one  side  on  the  shelving 
muddy  bank.  We  disembarked  and  entered  the  house.  It 
wan  half  full  of  hay  and  corn  sacks  awaiting  transport  to 
Tchikislar.  A  fire  burned  in  the  centre,  and  beside  it,  sur- 
rounded by  nets  and  other  fishing  appurtenances,  sat  a 
woman,  evidently  of  Persian  race,  with  dark,  strongly- 
marked,  highly-arching  eyebrows,  large  full  eyes,  and  a 
general  appearance  which  plainly  denoted  that  she  was  no 
Turcoman.  Seated  in  her  lap  was  a  child  of  some  three 
or  four  years,  clad  in  classically  scanty  raiment.  As  the 
flickering  light  fell  upon  her  figure  beside  the  dark  shadows 
of  the  kibitka  with  Rembrandt-like  effect,  she  would  have 
made  no  bad  model  for  a  latter-day  aquiline-featured 
Madonna.     I  sat  for  some  time  by  the  fire,  ruminating  over 


DOWN  THE  GIURGEN.  257 

the  possible  results  of  my  coming  trip  until  two  young  men 
eame  in.  After  some  bargaining,  it  was  agreed  to  accord 
me  a  passage  to  Tchikislar  for  the  sum  of  five  krans  (four 
shillings),  on  condition  that  I  supplied  candles  during  the 
voyage.  After  a  good  deal  of  hauling  and  pushing,  the 
lugger  was  set  afloat,  and  I  embarked.  Besides  myself 
there  was  a  crew  of  three.  It  was  about  nine  o'clock  in  the 
evening  as,  spreading  our  great  lateen  sail,  we  glided  away 
down  the  long,  winding,  canal-like  channel,  here  not  more 
than  forty  paces  wide,  between  low,  swampy  banks,  over- 
grown with  tamarisk  bushes.  As  we  left  the  glimmering 
lights  of  Gumush  Tepe  behind  us,  the  clamour  of  wild 
fowl  feeding  in  the  marshes  on  either  side  reached  our  ears, 
and  at  intervals  the  noise  of  the  frogs  and  toads  sounded 
weirdly  on  the  night.  A  mile  down  the  river  we  came  to 
a  halt  near  an  Armenian  fishing  station  upon  the  left 
bank,  to  take  in  two  passengers.  Greatly  to  my  surprise, 
I  saw  among  those  who  came  out  of  the  kibitka,  which 
served  as  a  residence  for  the  people  employed  at  the  fishing 
station,  a  Russian  soldier  in  full  uniform.  Then  we  went 
on,  as  far  as  I  could  judge,  for  about  a  mile  and  a  half, 
poling  the  lodka  off  the  banks  at  the  sharp  turnings,  then 
passing  a  wide  estuary  intersected  with  tree-grown  islands, 
the  commencement,  probably,  of  a  future  delta ;  for,  unlike 
the  Atterek,  the  Giurgen  has  one  continuous  and  navigable 
channel  to  the  open  sea.  Here,  again,  were  extensive 
fishing  stations,  and  lights  gleamed  along  the  shore  in  a 
southerly  direction.  I  was  told  that  an  extensive  fishing 
village  existed  there.  I  stowed  myself  away  under  the 
forecastle,  wrapped  in  my  sheepskin  mantle,  after  partaking 
of  some  tea  made  on  a  fire  kindled  in  a  shallow  iron  pan 
laid  on  flat  bricks.  I  slept  soundly,  and  it  must  have  been 
about  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  when,  after  something 
like  nine  hours'  passage,  we  anchored  off  the  level  shore  of 
vol.  1.  s 


1 


258  TCHIKISLAR  AGAIN.— GRAND  HOTEL. 

Tchikislar.  My  companions  told  me  thai  daring  the  night 
they  had  had  a  good  deal  of  tacking,  the  wind  having 
shifted,  and  that  they  had  been  obliged  to  keep  well  out  to 
sea,  as  the  wind  was  off  shore,  and  the  waters  were  forced 
backwards  and  considerably  reduced  in  depth.  The  sailors 
had  brought  with  them  some  wild  duck,  pheasants,  and  vege- 
tables, to  be  sold  at  the  camp,  where,  they  said,  they  were 
able  to  obtain  for  them  a  price  at  least  four  times  as  large 
as  could  be  got  in  their  own  village.  I  was  brought  as 
near  the  shore  as  possible  in  a  tdimul,  but,  small  as  was 
the  draught  of  this  dug-out  canoe,  I  was  obliged  to  wade 
at  least  fifty  yards  through  the  surf  before  I  reached  what 
might  reasonably  be  called  land.  The  camp  was  still 
buried  in  slumber ;  probably  if  everyone  had  been  about,  as 
was  the  case  later  on,  I  should  have  been  sent  about  my 
business  immediately.  None  of  the  shops  or  booths  were 
yet  open,  and  I  was  forced  for  the  moment  to  seek  hospi- 
tality in  the  Hbitka  of  an  old  acquaintance,  the  ex-pirate, 
Moullah  Dourdi,  who,  true  to  the  habits  of  his  race,  was 
up  and  stirring  betimes.  He  had  the  reputation  of 
being  very  rich,  that  is  for  a  Turcoman,  and  to  judge  from 
the  appearance  of  his  house,  crammed  to  the  roof  inside 
with  tea-chests,  rolls  of  calico,  and  other  commodities,  he 
seemed  to  be  doing  a  thriving  business.  Somewhat  later 
the  denizens  of  the  camp  began  to  make  their  appearance, 
and  the  principal  house  of  entertainment,  a  great  rambling 
boarded  structure  with  high-pitched  roof,  kept  by  an  Italian 
sutler  and  known  as  the  Grand  Hotel,  was  opened.  It  was 
the  place  where  a  number  of  the  staff  officers  boarded,  and 
I  was  recognised  by  more  than  one  as  soon  as  I  made  my 
appearance  at  the  breakfast-table.  As  soon  as  I  could 
obtain  an  audience,  I  presented  myself  before  my  old  friend 
Colonel  Malama,  the  chief  of  staff,  who  still  occupied  the 
position  he  had  held  under  General  Lazareff.    He  looked 


A  DISCUSSION.— EXPELLED  AGAIN.  259 

much  aged  and  worn,  short  as  was  the  time  since  I  had 
last  seen  him,  and  I  was  not  surprised  at  it,  considering 
that  he  had  been  through  the  disastrous  affair  of  the  first 
attack  on  Geok  Tep6,  and  had  borne  his  fall  share  of  the 
responsibilities  which  the  precipitate  retreat  from  before 
that  stronghold  entailed.  I  asked  him  to  tell  General 
Mouravieff  that  I  had  come  to  make  application  to  be 
allowed  to  remain  at  Tchikislar,  and  to  follow  the  operations 
of  the  column,  and  he  promised  to  do  as  I  desired  as  soon 
as  the  General  was  visible.  I  spent  the  day  in  roving 
about  the  camp,  and  could  perceive  but  little  alteration  in 
its  general  appearance,  save  that  there  was  much  less 
animation  than  when  I  had  last  been  there,  owing  to  the 
withdrawal  of  a  large  portion  of  the  forces  to  the  western 
side  of  the  Caspian,  where  they  had  taken  up  quarters  for 
the  winter.  The  evening  was  enlivened  by  a  rather  hot 
discussion  between  myself  and  some  engineer  officers  on  the 
question  of  the  actual  boundary  between  Persia  and  the 
Russian  trans-Caspian  territory,  one  of  them  stoutly  main- 
taining that  the  Atterek  to  its  sources  was,  and  could  not 
but  be,  the  legitimate  boundary,  and  that  which  was  laid 
down  in  treaties.  It  was  scarce  day-break  on  the  following 
morning  when  I  was  aroused  by  a  loud  knocking  at  the 
door  of  the  little  alcove  in  which  I  slept.  The  major  of 
a  battalion,  with  whom  I  had  formerly  been  on  very  friendly 
terms,  accompanied  by  the  chief  of  the  camp  police,  a 
certain  Timour  Beg,  a  Mussulman  lieutenant  of  cavalry, 
made  their  appearance,  bearing  an  order  from  General 
Mouravieff  that  I  should  immediately  quit  the  camp  and 
return  to  Gumush  Tep6,  or  any  other  place  to  which  I 
might  choose  to  proceed,  provided  I  left  the  limits  of  the 
Russian  lines.  I  asked  permission  to  remain  until  I  had 
eaten  my  breakfast,  and  then,  accompanied  by  the  same 
officers,  I  departed  for  the  shore,  where  a  lodka,  specially 

■  2 


*6o  BACK  TO  THE  CI  URGE N. 

retained  for  my  transport  back  to  Gumush  Tep6,  was  lying. 
The  major  was  eager  in  his  expressions  of  regret  that  I 
should  be  thus  compelled  to  leave  Tchikislar,  and  said  how 
surprised  he  was  to  see  me  so  treated,  he  haying  known  me 
to  be  on  such  exceedingly  good  terms  with  the  late  General 
Lazareff  and  Generals  Borch  and  Wittgenstein.  It  was  not 
General  Mouravieff  s  fault,  he  said.  He  was  aware  that  a 
telegram  had  arrived  in  the  camp  on  the  previous  evening, 
whether  from  Tiflis  or  St.  Petersburg  he  did  not  know,  in 
reply  to  one  despatched  by  the  General  in  relation  to  my- 
self, and  which  contained  a  peremptory  order  to  see  that  I 
left  the  place  forthwith.  A  tdimuL  brought  me  alongside  of 
the  lugger,  and  I  found  a  sufficiently  numerous  body  of 
passengers  already  aboard,  some  fifteen  in  all.  We  set  sail 
about  eight  o'clock,  and  stowed  ourselves  away  upon  the 
rude  ribs  of  the  primitive  craft,  so  as  to  be  as  much  as 
possible  out  of  the  way  of  the  bilge  water  that  went  uneasily 
to  and  fro.  A  smoking  apparatus,  in  size  and  shape  very 
like  Highland  bagpipes,  was  produced,  and  the  general  cir- 
culation of  it  from  hand  to  hand  commenced.  We  stood 
out  for  a  couple  of  miles,  until  from  our  little  craft  we  could 
only  distinguish  long  streaks  of  low-lying  coast,  which,  apart 
from  occasional  sand-hills,  were  only  just  enough  to  indicate 
land.  Far  away  ahead  the  Persian  mountains,  like  a  blue 
dream,  loomed  to  the  southward.  Our  passage  was  favour- 
able enough  until  towards  evening,  when  the  wind  died  away 
almost  entirely,  and  sweeps  had  to  be  got  out,  by  the  aid 
of  which  we  crawled  along  slowly  enough.  A  couple  of 
hours  before  sunset  the  breeze  again  sprang  up,  and  we 
scudded  away  briskly  before  it.  The  company  were  very 
cheerful ;  most  of  them,  apparently,  to  judge  from  their 
conversation,  having  been  successful  in  their  commercial 
transactions  at  the  camp.  Many  of  them  indulged  in  such 
nn-Mussulman-like  refreshment  as  bottled  Kazan  beer,  pur- 


THE  TENKIS  AGAIN.  261 

chased  at  the  drink-shops  of  Tchikislar,  doubtless  not 
thinking  themselves  less  obedient  to  the  teachings  of  the 
Koran  on  that  account.  The  more  lax  Mussulmans  always 
excuse  themselves  for  excessive  indulgence  in  vodka,  arrack, 
and  brandy,  on  the  plea  that  wine  only  is  forbidden  by 
Mahomet.  We  had  a  moullah  on  board,  who  was  piously 
demonstrative,  saying  his  prayers  with  the  greatest  persist- 
ence during  the  greater  portion  of  the  voyage;  and  though 
we  were  sitting  crowded  together  in  a  narrow  space,  almost 
touching  each  other,  he  would  insist  upon  putting  his  open 
hands  behind  his  jaws  as  the  muezzims  do,  and  calling  the 
faithful  to  prayer,  as  if  all  who  had  it  in  their  power  to 
respond  had  not  been  at  his  elbow. 

I  did  not  like  the  appearance  of  the  sky  as  we  entered 
the  mouth  of  the  Giurgen.  There  were  meteoric-looking 
clouds  athwart  the  sun,  and  that  angry  glare  over  the 
waters  which  in  this  part  of  the  world  heralds  a  tempest. 
The  wind  again  fell,  and  a  dead  calm  ensued.  The  lugger 
had  to  be  rowed  and  poled  almost  the  entire  distance 
between  the  mouth  of  the  river  and  the  village.  A  fieree 
yellow  storm-light  was  on  the  lodka  masts,  and  angry  red 
streaks  shone  over  the  looming  snow-clad  Elburz.  The 
leaden  waters  of  the  Giurgen  slept  *  stilly  black,'  the  sun 
went  down,  and  the  call  of  the  muezzim,  like  that  of  some 
storm  demon,  arose  upon  the  ominous  silence  pervading 
land  and  sky.  I  had  not  been  more  than  a  few  minutes  on 
shore  when  the  scudding  mist-drift  made  its  appearance 
along  the  western  horizon,  and  before  long  the  tempest  was 
upon  us.  It  was  fortunate  for  us  that  we  got  on  shore  so 
soon.  The  storm  struck  the  village  with  greater  force  than  I 
had  yet  seen.  The  cattle  galloped  wildly  about,  the  camels 
straggling  here  and  there  with  their  awkward  run,  stiffly 
brandishing  their  tails.  The  evening  sky  forcibly  reminded 
me  of  a  tornado  scene  which  I  once  witnessed  in  St.  Louis, 


262  CONFUSION.— EFFECTS  OF  STORM. 

Missouri,  and  the  roaring  noise  of  the  wind  and  rain  that 
swept  over  the  village  brought  the  same  storm  still  more 
vividly  back  to  my  memory.  Ere  long  it  was  pitch  dark, 
and  general  confusion  reigned  throughout  Gumush  Tep6. 
The  naphtha  torches  flared  in  every  direction.  Ropes  and 
poles  were  hurriedly  brought  into  requisition,  and  the 
universal  hubbub,  mingled  with  the  noise  of  the  storm,  gave 
the  place  the  appearance  of  being  the  scene  of  some 
unearthly  combat.  These  sudden  storms  from  the  sea  are 
of  such  frequent  occurrence  that  I  wondered  why  perma- 
nent precautions  were  not  taken  against  their  ever-recur- 
ring violence.  When  I  asked  old  Dourdi  why  he  did  not 
always  keep  his  kibitka  tied  down  with  ropes,  and  plant 
poles  to  support  the  structure  against  the  fury  of  the 
wind,  instead  of  removing  all  the  fastenings  the  moment 
the  tempest  had  passed  by,  he  frankly  told  me  that  if  he 
were  to  leave  his  tackling  for  a  single  night  outside,  it  would 
disappear  before  morning— a  good  and  cogent  reason  for 
placing  it  in  security  within.  This  storm  was  one  of  the 
worst  that  had  happened  for  some  time,  and  I  could  not 
help  congratulating  myself  and  my  fellow-passengers  upon 
having  got  ashore  before  its  fury  burst  upon  us,  for  I  am 
certain  that  if  such  had  not  been  the  case  not  one  of  us 
would  have  reached  land.  Borne  miles  to  the  south,  at  the 
station  of  Kenar  Gez,  the  Persian  custom-house— not,  it  is 
true,  a  very  solid  building — was  unroofed  and  completely 
wrecked,  and  three  men  were  drowned.  The  wooden  pier 
was  broken  in  two,  and  several  small  vessels  were  driven 
ashore.  This  storm,  unhke  the  others  which  had  occurred 
during  my  stay  in  these  parts,  was  not  of  short  duration. 
It  continued  with  unceasing  violence  during  the  greater  part 
of  the  night.  Towards  midnight  it  was  accompanied  by 
hail  and  a  heavy  snowfall.  When  I  looked  out  in  the  morn- 
ing the  sun  was  shining  brightly  over  a  vast  gleaming 


SNOW.— OFF  TO  ASTERABAD.  263 

•  expanse  of  virgin  snow.  I  had  never  before  seen  the  plains 
thus  covered.  It  is  singular  that,  while  during  the  months 
of  January  and  February  the  weather  had  been  compara- 
tively mild  and  warm,  it  should  at  this  late  period  turn  so 
bitterly  cold,  and  that  we  should  ba  plunged,  as  it  were, 
into  the  depth  of  winter.  The  snow-fall  must  have  been 
excessively  heavy,  for  it  was  fully  six  inches  deep  out  in  the 
open.  It  was  drifted  in  great  banks  against  every  obstacle 
in  the  course  of  the  wind,  and  piled  high  against  the 
kibitkas.  Everyone  was  at  work  sweeping  the  snow  from 
the  felt  roofing,  and  clearing  pathways  from  door  to  door. 
The  dogs,  for  a  wonder,  were  undemonstrative,  and  cowered 
in  sheltered  corners  out  of  the  reach  of  the  cutting  blast 
that  whistled  and  moaned  through  the  village.  Never  have 
I  seen  so  sudden  and  striking  a  transformation,  in  so 
brief  a  period,  over  the  whole  face  of  the  country. 

Finding  that  my  last  chance  of  again  being  allowed 
to  take  up  my  quarters  in  the  Russian  camp  had  departed, 
I  decided  to  return  to  Asterabad,  there  to  consult  with  my 
friend  Mr.  Churchill  as  to  what  course  I  ought  to  pursue, 
and  I  took  advantage  of  the  setting  out  for  the  same  place 
of  a  Turcoman  who  had  been  acting  as  agent  for  the  British 
Consul  at  that  city,  and  who  was  going  in  with  his  usual 
fortnightly  report  of  the  movements  of  the  Russians.  For 
obvious  reasons  I  refrain  from  giving  the  name  of  this 
courier.  On  the  morning  following  the  storm,  accompanied 
by  this  man  and  my  servant,  I  took  the  usual  route 
towards  Kara  Suli  Tepe,  from  which  point  the  road  turned 
in  a  south-easterly  direction  towards  Oum  Shali,  one  of  the 
principal  points  at  which  Turcomans  going  and  coming 
between  Asterabad  and  Gumush  Tepe  cross  the  Giurgen 
river.  Far  away  out  on  the  plain,  with  not  a  bush  a  foot 
high  to  shelter  us  against  the  piercing  wind,  I  could  fully 
realise  the  value  of  a  Turcoman  sheepskin  kusgun,  and  of 


964  CATTLE  STORM-SHELTERS. 

the  extra  length  of  sleeve  which  I  could  snugly  double 
oyer  my  hand.  The  cold  was  not  so  excessive  that  one  need 
complain  of  it,  but  the  keen  wind,  sweeping  unimpeded  over 
these  vast  solitudes,  lent  to  it  a  bitterness  which  must  be 
felt  to  be  appreciated.  The  plain  stretching  between 
Oumush  Tep6  and  Kara  Suli  Tep6  is  mainly  uninhabited, 
being  near  enough  to  the  village  to  allow  of  the  camels  and 
herds  being  sent  to  pasture  early  in  the  morning,  and 
brought  home  at  night,  but  beyond  the  latter  place  a  scene 
truly  characteristic  of  the  Steppes  came  under  my  obser- 
vation. Here,  at  intervals  of  four  or  five  miles,  are  small 
groups  of  Mbitkas,  each  group  consisting  of  from  ten  to 
twenty  dwellings,  and  placed  with  a  view  to  the  grazing 
of  the  numerous  flocks  and  herds  ordinarily  scattered  over 
the  plain.  The  inhabitants  of  these  huts  were  now  to  be 
met  with  in  every  direction,  camped  in  small  groups  here 
and  there,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  When  the  snow 
tenkis  swept  over  them  they  had  bethought  themselves  of 
their  sheep  and  lambs,  distributed  for  miles  round  under 
the  guardianship  of  a  few  shepherds,  and  exposed  to  all  the 
fury  of  the  wintry  blast.  Knowing  from  experience  the 
fatal  results  of  these  visitations,  they  had  hurried  out  to 
parry,  as  best  they  might,  the  disastrous  effects  of  the  tenkis 
upon  their  flocks,  and  everywhere  were  to  be  seen  shelters, 
rapidly  constructed  out  of  the  first  material  that  came  to 
hand.  In  these  outlying  villages  one  sees,  at  all  seasons 
of  the  year,  a  number  of  objects  whose  destination  had 
more  than  once  sorely  puzzled  me.  These  were  fascines  of 
giant  reeds,  twenty  feet  long,  eighteen  inches  thick  at  one 
extremity,  where  the  butts  of  the  reeds  were  together, 
and  half  that  thickness  at  the  other  end,  where  the  plumy 
tops  were  bound  together  in  a  point.  I  now  saw  to  what 
use  they  were  put.  The  earth  had  been  cut  slopingly, 
deepening  gradually  from  the  surface  to  a  depth  of  about 


CATTLE  STORM-SHELTERS.  265 

three  feet,  and  then  abruptly  scarped.  The  excavated  earth 
was  thrown  up  in  the  form  of  a  parapet,  and  solidly  beaten. 
This  parapet  was  next  the  wind,  the  sloping  ditch  which 
led  down  to  it  being  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  the  entire 
line  at  right  angles  to  the  direction  of  the  storm.  The  reed 
fascines  were  laid  sloping,  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees, 
across  the  top  of  this  parapet,  their  thick  ends  being  buried 
in  the  earth,  and  firmly  secured  in  position  by  stakes,  so 
that  the  plumy  extremities  of  the  reeds  were  pointed  in  the 
direction  towards  which  the  wind  blew.  Under  cover  of  the 
parapet  and  the  sloping  roof  formed  by  the  fascines  the 
flocks  crowded  together,  and  were  thus  to  a  certain 
extent  secured  against  the  effects  of  the  blast,  and  the  more 
or  less  vertically  falling  snow  and  hail.  A  screen  of  this 
description  afforded  passable  shelter  from  the  extreme 
violence  of  the  storm,  sufficient  for  the  stronger  animals, 
such  as  camels,  cows,  and  full-grown  sheep,  to  a  distance  of 
thirty  or  forty  feet  from  the  parapet,  while  the  young  lambs 
and  kids  cowered  close  down  in  the  cutting.  In  some 
instances  there  had  not  been  time  to  erect  these  parapets, 
and  the  fascines  were  supported  in  the  necessary  position  by 
horizontal  poles,  reaching  from  top  to  top  of  stout  stakes 
driven  vertically  into  the  ground.  Where  these  fascines 
were  not  prepared  for  use,  the  villagers  had  brought  out  their 
quilts  and  felt  floor-cloths,  which,  attached  to  wooden  bars 
such  as  I  have  described,  and  held  in  a  vertical  position 
by  stakes  driven  through  their  lower  edges,  gave  a 
limited  shelter  to  the  portion  of  the  flocks  least  able  to  bear 
the  inclemency  of  the  weather.  These  precautions,  how- 
ever, had  apparently  come  too  late,  to  a  great  extent,  for 
on  every  side  were  strewn  dead  and  dying  lambs  and  sheep. 
Men  with  long  knives  were  going  from  one  prostrate 
animal  to  another,  cutting  their  throats  to  see  if  blood  would 
flow.     In  case  it  did,  however  slightly,  the  carcass  was 


*66   A  FEAST  FOR  JACKALS.— TURCOMAN  MARCH. 

taken  to  the  village  to  be  consumed  as  food ;  but,  if  no  blood 
came,  the  flesh  was  abandoned  to  the  village  dogB,  and  to 
the  wolves  and  jackals,  who  would  invariably  make  their 
appearance  as  the  sun  sank  below  the  horizon.  The 
number  of  animals  who  perished  in  this  snow  tenkis,  to 
judge  from  my  observations  of  the  limited  space  over  which 
I  rode,  must  have  been  enormous. 

As  we  moved  further  eastward,  the   snow  diminished 
very  perceptibly,  and  when  we  reached  the  usual  fording- 
place  on  the  Giurgen,  at  Oum  Shali,  it  had  almost  entirely 
disappeared.    Even  at  this  early  season  of  the  year  the 
mid-day  hours  were  exceedingly  warm.    We  tried  in  vain 
to  find  a  fording-place  at  this  point.    The  waters  were 
beginning  to  rise,  and  it  would  have  been  very  hazardous  to 
risk  the  attempt.    We  accordingly  pushed  on  five  or  six 
miles  further  to  the  east,  until  nearly  abreast  with  the  old 
Persian  fortress  of  Mehemet  Giurgen,  on  the  southern  bank 
of  the  river,  where  it  makes  a  sudden  bend  to  the  south- 
ward.   Here  we  found  II  Geldi  Khan,  the  Turcoman  chief 
of  whom  I  have  spoken  as  accompanying  me  overland  to 
Tchikislar.    He  was  engaged  in  shifting  one  of  his  villages 
to  a  more   favourable  pasture  ground.     A  considerable 
portion  of  the  kibitkas  and  household  materials  were  on  the 
ground,  and  the  remainder  were  gradually  arriving.    In 
this  part  of  the  world  there  are  no  wheeled  vehicles.    The 
nearest  approach  to  a  vehicle  of  any  kind  which  I  saw  was 
a  cylindrical  wicker  basket  like  a  gabion,  about  four  feet  in 
length  and  two  and  a  half  feet  in  diameter,  open  at  each 
extremity.     Through  the  centre  of  one  of  the  sides  had  been 
thrust  a  lance,  and  a  man,  mounted  upon  a  tall  Turcoman 
horse,  his  wife  seated  behind  him,  held  the  other  extremity 
of  the  weapon  in  his  hand,  thereby  drawing  the  basket  after 
him.     In  it  were  a  quantity  of  hay,  and  some  lesser  house- 
hold goods  and  chattels.    Baskets  of  the  same  kind  were  to 


A  DIFFICULT  CROSSING.  267 

be  seen  at  intervale,  placed  upright  upon  one  end.  These 
were  the  field  mangers  for  the  horses,  and  they  prevented 
the  hay  from  being  swept  away  by  the  wind,  as  would  have 
been  the  case  had  it  remained  unprotected.  The  household 
effects  were  carried  on  the  backs  of  camels,  the  men  and 
women  riding  on  horseback.  All  around  stood  the  wooden 
skeletons  of  kibitkas,  not  yet  covered  with  felt,  and  looking 
exactly  like  so  many  gigantic  parrot  cages.  Women  in 
their  bright  coloured  garments  were,  as  usual,  hard  at  work 
erecting  the  dwellings ;  the  men  sat  idly  about,  smoking 
their  water-pipes,  and  chatting,  their  rifles  and  muskets 
lying  in  symmetrical  rows  on  the  ground  near  them.  Even 
at  this  point,  which  is  considered  the  safest  of  all  at  which 
to  cross  the  river,  it  was  by  no  means  an  easy  task  to  get 
to  the  opposite  side.  A  guide,  sent  by  D  Geldi  Khan,  and 
mounted  on  a  very  tall  camel,  led  the  way,  the  animal  pro- 
ceeding obliquely  up  the  stream,  feeling  the  bottom  carefully 
with  its  great  cushioned  feet  to  make  sure  that  he  did  not 
slide  from  the  kind  of  ridge  which  at  that  point  rendered 
the  river  fordable.  It  is  very  dangerous  to  attempt  the 
ford  without  a  guide ;  and,  even  when  the  river  is  easily 
passable,  the  steep  and  slippery  banks  of  yellow  loam 
present  a  serious  obstacle.  I  succeeded  in  getting  over,  my 
horse  once  completely  losing  his  footing,  and  going  quite 
under  water,  to  the  no  small  detriment  of  the  contents  of 
my  saddle-bags.  Arrived  at  the  other  side,  he  managed  with 
great  difficulty  to  struggle  up  the  steep  bank,  but  when  near 
the  top,  which  was  about  twenty-five  feet  above  the  surface 
of  the  river,  he  again  lost  his  footing,  and  slid  back  into  the 
stream.  I  had  at  length  to  dismount  in  water  waist  deep, 
and  scramble  up  on  all  fours,  plastering  myself  all  over 
with  sticky  loam.  The  camel  which  carried  the  guide, 
thanks  to  its  long  legs,  got  well  across  the  stream,  but 
failed  utterly  to  climb  the  bank.    Several  times,  by  creep* 


368  DEAD  SHEEP.— MUSHROOMS. 

ing  on  its  knees,  it  mounted  ten  or  twelve  feet,  bat  then, 
becoming  tired,  lay  down  with  its  neck  stretched  out  like  an 
enormous  snail,  and  in  this  position  glided  backwards  inch 
by  inch  into  the  water,  where  it  stood  uttering  dissatisfied 
growls,  such  as  can  only  proceed  from  the  mouth  of  a  camel. 
The  guide  was  to  have  accompanied  us  in  the  direction  of 
Asterabad,  but  in  consequence  of  the  sheer  impossibility  of 
getting  his  camel  up  the  bank,  we  perforce  moved  on  with- 
out his  company. 

Though  no  snow  was  visible  on  the  southern  side  of  the 
river,  a  fact  which  was  doubtless  owing  to  its  having  dis- 
appeared before  the  rays  of  the  hot  afternoon  sun,  we  con- 
stantly met  with  the  dead  bodies  of  sheep,  lambs,  and  kids, 
many  of  them  in  a  very  mangled  condition  by  reason  of  the 
ravages  of  the  wolves,  jackals,  and  dogs.  Finding  myself 
unable  to  reach  Asterabad  the  same  night,  I  stayed  at  a 
gathering  of  kibitkas  situated  about  two  hours'  ride  from  the 
town,  and  at  the  northern  edge  of  the  jungle.  There  had 
been  heavy  rains  during  the  preceding  fortnight,  and  the 
rivers  and  streams  everywhere  were  gradually  beginning  to 
fill.  Even  the  Kara-Su,  which  is  usually  but  a  series  of 
swamps  united  by  insignificant  rivulets,  was  now  a  very 
respectable  river,  and  quite  unfordable.  At  the  village  it 
was  spanned  by  a  very  rickety  extempore  bridge  of  tree- 
trunks  and  branches.  In  the  proximity  of  this  stream, 
which  falls  into  the  sea  at  Eenar  Gez,  mushrooms  covered 
the  ground  in  every  direction,  some  being  as  large  as  a 
dinner  plate.  At  first  I  was  very  chary  about  making  use 
of  them,  but,  seeing  the  inhabitants  eat  them  freely,  I  tried 
them  also,  and  found  them  excellent.  They  are  precisely 
the  same  in  flavour  as  those  eaten  in  England.  I  had  often 
noticed  immense  quantities  of  them  along  the  Giurgen, 
near  Gumush  Tepe,  but,  owing  to  their  enormous  size,  had 
taken  it  for  granted  that  they  were  inedible.    For  half  a 


A  FERTILE  TRACT,  269 

bran  one  can  purchase  a  quantity  which  would  fill  up  and 
pile  an  ordinary  wash-hand  basin.  Large  numbers  of 
young  tortoises  crept  about  everywhere,  and  immense 
growths  of  dandelion  flourished  in  the  same  locality.  The 
grass  and  reed  growth  along  this  southerly  portion  of  the 
plain,  extending  between  the  Giurgen  and  the  Kara-Su,  is 
exceedingly  luxuriant,  owing  to  the  excellent  water  supply 
combined  with  the  heat  of  the  sun,  and  I  am  much  surprised 
that  the  nomads  do  not  frequent  the  district  more  than  they 
do.  Possibly  they  fear  to  be  in  too  close  proximity  to  the 
central  administration  at  Asterabad,  a  position  which  would 
greatly  facilitate  the  extracting  from  them  of  additional 
funds  by  the  local  authorities.  I  passed  the  night  in  a 
kibitka  placed  at  the  disposal  of  myself  and  my  servant,  as 
it  seemed  to  be  understood  that  we  would  not  trust  our- 
selves alone  with  any  of  the  village  people  during  the  night. 
They  belonged  to  the  Ata-bai  Turcomans,  and  were  a 
peculiar  subdivision  of  that  tribe  which  bore  a  very  bad 
character  indeed.  They  were  held  responsible  for  certain 
Persians  who  had  disappeared,  shortly  before  our  arrival, 
while  endeavouring  to  cross  this  portion  of  the  plain. 

Early  in  the  morning  I  took  my  departure,  riding  by  a 
narrow  path  through  the  pomegranate  and  thorn  jungle. 
The  snow,  which  had  here  lodged  in  great  quantities,  had 
melted,  and  the  loamy  mud  was  fully  eighteen  inches  deep, 
rendering  the  path  all  but  impassable.  Weary  hours  of 
wading  were  spent  in  getting  though  this  chaos.  We 
passed  several  fortified  Persian  villages,  situated  within 
clearings,  one  of  them  occupying  the  summit  of  one  of  the 
ancient  tepes,  or  hills.  It  probably  presented  an  exact 
picture  of  what  each  of  the  other  hills  dotting  the  plain  to  the 
northward  was  when  the  district  was  inhabited.  On  every 
side  were  wild-boar  tracks,  and  from  time  to  time,  as  we 
sought  to  avoid  the  muddy  ditch  along  which  we  were 


I 


370  THROUGH  THE  JUNGLE. 

riding,  by  turning  aside  into  the  field,  we  saw  parties  of 
from  five  to  six  boars,  with  their  broods,  go  crashing 
suddenly  before  us,  away  into  the  depths  of  the  thickets. 
It  was  nearly  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  as,  thoroughly 
tired  out,  I  drew  bridle  at  the  gate  of  the  British  Consulate 
in  Asterabad. 


A  HALT  AT  ASTERABAD.  Vji 


•   CHAPTER  XVI. 

BOUND  THE   PLAINS  BY  AK-KALA. 

A  troublesome  servant — Mehemedsbsd — Gamp  at  Nergis  Tepe — Afghan 
escort — Cattle  scenting  blood — Porcupines — Offending  a  moullah — Bridge 
oyer  Kara-Su — Old  town  of  Giurgen — Modern  fort — Seat  of  Kadjar 
family — Persian  artillerymen  and  sharpshooters—  Ak-Kala  bridge — 
Turcoman  medresUs — View  from  the  ramparts — Firing  at  a  Turcoman — 
Persian  military  prestige — A  humorous  moullah — Verses  on  a  mantel- 
piece— Paring  an  epistle — Banks  of  the  Giurgen — Camels  shedding  winter 
coats— Triple  chain  of  mounds — Oum  Shali — Pheasants  and  partridges — 
A  hungry  wolf — Lost  in  the  reed  brakes — Stranded  fish — Overflow  of 
Giurgen — Curing  fish — Wood  turners — A  Kurd  gallant — Matron's  indig- 
nation— Plans  for  the  future — Russian  threats — Saddling  for  Asterabad — 
Dangers  of  the  road — Goklan  *  no  tax'  movement — Putrescent  fish — A 
mutual  misunderstanding — Wild  boars  and  jackals— Passage  of  swollen 
Giurgen  by  cattle — Lunch  with  the  nomads — Victims  of  the  Unkia — 
Arrival  at  Asterabad — News  of  Skobeleff — Mr.  Zinovieff — Journey  to 
Teheran  decided  on. 

I  remained  some  days  at  Asterabad,  enjoying  the  kind 
hospitality  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Churchill  at  the  British  Con- 
sulate, and  endeavouring  to  recuperate  my  energies  after 
the  Turcoman  regime  to  which  I  had  so  long  been  subjected 
at  Gumush  Tepe,  and  I  then  undertook  an  expedition  to 
the  Persian  border  fort  of  Ak-Kala,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Giurgen.  This  is  the  only  point  at  which  the  stream  is 
spanned  by  a  bridge,  and  where,  consequently,  it  can  be 
crossed  at  all  seasons.  As  it  is  at  all  times  hazardous  for 
one  or  two  persons  to  trust  themselves  out  in  these  plains, 
and  especially  so  at  a  time  like  that  of  which  I  am  speak- 
ing, when  all  manner  of  miscreants  were  abroad,  I  decided 
to  proceed  first  to  the  Persian  camp  of  Nergis  Tep6  and  try 


27a  A  COWARDLY  SERVANT. 

to  procure  an  escort.  Accompanied  by  my  servant,  an 
Armenian  from  Erivan,  who  had  come  with  me  from 
Tchikislar  after  LazarefFs  death,  I  rode  northward  towards 
the  fortified  village  of  Mehemedabad,  situated  some  miles 
off,  in  the  midst  of  the  jungle.  During  this  journey  the 
misconduct  of  my  servant  greatly  annoyed  and  incon- 
venienced me.  He  was  exceedingly  cowardly  by  nature, 
and,  with  the  view  of  drowning  his  fears  of  the  dangers 
which  he  anticipated  meeting  with  in  the  jungle,  had  par- 
taken very  freely  of  the  deleterious  spirit  here  called  arrack, 
and  during  the  ride  he  continued  to  help  himself  from  the 
bottle  to  such  an  extent  that  he  became  quite  drunk,  or  at 
least  pretended  to  be  so.  He  was  cruelly  maltreating  the 
horse  which  he  rode,  beating  him  savagely  between  the  ears 
with  a  heavy  riding  whip,  all  the  time  scarcely  able  to  keep 
his  saddle.  I  several  times  ordered  him  to  desist,  but  he 
paid  no  attention  to  me,  and  finally  became  very  insolent. 
He  said  he  would  go  no  further,  and,  turning  his  horse's 
head  towards  Asterabad,  proceeded  to  ride  away  in  that 
direction,  carrying  with  him  all  my  baggage.  I  shouted 
to  him  to  come  back,  and,  drawing  my  revolver,  threatened 
to  fire  if  he  did  not  obey.  He  took  no  notice  of  my  threat, 
and  I  was  obliged  to  gallop  after  him.  Seizing  his  horse's 
bridle,  I  commanded  him  to  dismount.  He  tried  to  strike  me 
with  the  butt  of  his  whip,  but  I  avoided  the  blow,  and,  imme- 
diately dismounting,  seized  him  by  the  heel  of  one  boot,  and 
threw  him  from  the  saddle  into  the  mud,  where  I  left  him 
wallowing. 

Remounting,  I  took  the  second  horse  by  the  bridle, 
and  rode  on  alone  to  Mehemedabad,  which  was  close  by. 
Some  of  the  inhabitants,  mounted  upon  the  ramparts,  had 
been  witnesses  of  the  scene,  and  were  under  the  impression 
that  I  had  killed  my  servant.  However,  even  if  I  had  done 
ao  it  would  have  created  but  little  astonishment,  such  things 


AN  AFGHAN  ESCORT.  273 

being  quite  in  the  order  of  the  day  in  this  neighbourhood ; 
and  as  I  entered  the  gateway  of  their  fortalice  they  only 
crowded  curiously  about  me,  asking  what  the  man  had 
done.  I  told  them  that  he  was  drunk  and  insolent,  that 
he  refused  to  accompany  me,  and  that  he  tried  to  bolt  back 
to  Asterabad  with  my  effects  ;  that  I  had  thrown  him  from 
his  horse ;  and  that  they  would  doubtless  find  him  asleep 
where  I  left  him,  in  the  middle  of  the  muddy  roadway.  I 
then  inquired  if  there  were  anyone  present  who  would  be 
good  enough  to  guide  me  to  the  Persian  camp  at  Nergis 
Tepe,  promising  to  reward  him  handsomely.  There  seemed 
to  be  some  hesitation  at  first,  but  at  length  one  young 
fellow  stepped  forward  and  volunteered  to  go  with  me.  I 
made  bim  mount  the  second  horse,  and  we  plunged  into  a 
labyrinth  of  mingled  morass  and  jungle,  leading  up  to 
the  edge  of  the  Eara-Su,  which  we  forded  with  some  diffi- 
culty, and  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  further  ride  brought  us 
to  the  camp.  Here  I  dismissed  my  guide,  with  a  present 
of  some  pieces  of  money,  and  went  at  once  to  General 
Veli  Khan,  who  was  kind  enough  to  place  a  tent  at  my 
service.  I  passed  the  day  at  the  camp,  sleeping  there 
the  same  evening.  Next  morning,  General  Mustapha 
Khan,  commanding  the  entire  forces,  and  Governor  of 
Asterabad,  kindly  furnished  me  with  an  escort  of  eight 
horsemen,  who  were  to  conduct  me  to  Ak-Kala,  about  four 
hours'  ride  to  the  north-eastward.  These  horsemen  were 
descendants  of  members  of  the  Afghan  colony  founded 
around  Asterabad  by  Nadir  Shah  on  his  return  from  the 
conquest  of  India.  There  are,  I  believe,  six  or  seven  hun- 
dred of  them  in  all  attached  to  the  government  of  Astera- 
bad. They  are  for  the  most  part  Mahometans  of  the 
Sunnite  sect. 

We  struck  out  in  an  easterly  direction,  across  a  per- 
fectly level  plain,  covered  with  short  crisp  grass,  similar  to 

vol.  1.  T 


274  BOVINE  INSTINCT.— PORCUPINES. 

that  seen  upon  our  downs,   there  being  a  sprinkling  of 
tamarisk  and  camel-thorn  here  and  there.     Cattle  in  large 
numbers  were  browsing  over  the  plain,  and  a  singular  in- 
stance of  animal  instinct  came  under  my  observation.    One 
of  our  party  had  brought  down  a  partridge  which  had 
risen  just  in  front  of  him,  and,  the  bird  being  considerably 
mangled,  its  blood  fell  upon  the  turf.    One  of  the  party 
at  the  same  moment  dismounted  to  arrange  his  saddle- 
girths,   and  during    our    halt    a    herd    of    small,   dark- 
coloured  cows  were  driven  up  by  a  shepherd.    They  were 
walking  quietly,  but  when  the  foremost  arrived  at  the  spot 
where  the  blood  of  the  partridge  had  been  spilled,   she 
sniffed  its  odour  with  dilated  nostrils,  lowing  plaintively. 
Several  others  gathered  round  her,  acting  similarly,  and 
then  they  all  set  off  in  a  mad  gallop,  with  outstretched  and 
stiffened  tails,  circling  round  the  spot.     This  manoeuvre 
they  repeated  several  times,  lowing  as  before  when  they 
smelt  the  blood.    As  we  continued  our  way  I  noticed  a 
great  number  of  porcupine  quills  lying  about,  the  quills  of 
each  animal  being  all  on  one  spot,  just  where  the  body  had 
decomposed.     The  Mussulmans  consider  this  animal  un- 
clean, and  I  recollect  once  giving  great  offence  to  a  moullah 
by  indicating  a  place  upon  a  map  with  a  porcupine  quill. 

We  recrossed  the  Kara-Su  river  on  a  tall  bridge  of 
several  arches,  over  which  the  causeway  of  Shah  Abass  the 
Great  passed.  The  bridge  was  a  fairly  substantial  struc- 
ture, and  at  either  extremity  of  it  was  a  tall  brick  obelisk 
painted  white,  to  guide  approaching  travellers,  and  to  act 
as  beacons  in  the  midst  of  the  dangerous  morasses  which 
flanked  the  river  at  this  point.  After  this  we  turned 
directly  to  the  northward,  and  soon  came  in  view  of  Ak- 
Kala. 

Ak-KaJa  is  about  thirty  miles  from  the  seashore,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Giurgen,  and  about  three  hours'  ride  north  of 


RUINS  OF  GIURGEN.— AK-KALA.  275 

Asterabad.  It  is  a  Tersian  military  station  on  the  real 
frontier — for  the  Giurgen  is  the  practical  limit  of  the  king- 
dom on  this  side.  The  place  is  an  interesting  one  from  a 
historical  point  of  view.  It  was  formerly  named  Giurgen, 
and  up  to  a  century  ago  was  a  flourishing  and  populous 
town.  It  was  the  head-quarters  of  one  of  the  two  rival 
branches  of  the  great  Kadjar  family  to  which  the  reigning 
dynasty  belongs.  The  second  branch  had  its  centre  at 
Asterabad.  After  a  series  of  bloody  struggles  the  Asterabad 
family  succeeded  in  asserting  its  supremacy,  and  the  de- 
struction of  Giurgen  followed.  The  ruins  of  the  town 
consist  of  a  crumbling  wall  of  sun-baked  brick,  flanked  by 
numerous  towers,  enclosing  an  oblong  space  five  or  six 
hundred  yards  in  length  by  four  hundred  in  breadth. 
Within  are  confused  heaps  of  earth,  tile,  and  rubbish,  in- 
cheating  the  sites  of  the  former  dwellings.  Vultures  and 
buzzards  sit  all  day  long  on  these  melancholy  mounds ;  and 
the  snake  and  jackal  shelter  among  the  sparse  brambles. 
Outside  the  walls  are  traces  of  vast  encampments— probably 
those  of  besieging  armies ;  and  the  dry  bed  of  an  ancient 
canal,  which  brought  water  to  the  place  from  the  Eara-Su, 
still  remains.  This  means  of  supply  had  to  be  adopted, 
for  though  one  end  of  the  town  touches  the  banks  of  the 
Giurgen  river,  the  great  depth  to  which  the  stream  has 
excavated  its  bed,  and  the  vertical  nature  of  the  sides, 
rendered  it  difficult  and  tedious  to  furnish  a  whole  popula- 
tion by  the  process  of  hoisting  water  in  buckets.  The 
modern  fort  of  Ak-Kala  (the*  White  Fort)  occupies  the  site 
of  the  ancient  citadel  in  the  north-eastern  corner  of  the 
old  town.  It  is  about  150  yards  square.  At  each  corner 
is  a  brick  bastion.  The  curtain  walls  are  of  unbaked 
brick,  and  in  a  very  ruinous  condition.  In  some  places 
the  footbank  has  crumbled  away  to  such  an  extent  that 
only  a  few  inches  in  breadth  remain,  and  making  the 

T  2 


1 


276  FOR  TIFICA  TIONS.— GARRISON. 

circuit  of  the  enceinte  is  a  perilous  affair.  In  designing 
the  loopholes  great  regard  seems  to  have  been  had  for  the 
safety  of  the  defenders,  the  openings  being  in  size  and  shape 
what  would  be  formed  by  thrusting  an  ordinary  broomstick 
through  a  fresh  mud  wall.  On  each  bastion  is  mounted  an 
old-fashioned  bronze  12-pounder,  beside  which  stands  a 
wild-looking  artilleryman  in  a  tattered  blue  calico  tonic 
faced  with  red  cotton  braid,  and  wearing  a  huge  shaggy 
hat  of  brown  sheepskin  like  that  of  a  Turcoman.  A  colonel 
commanded  the  post.  He  had  under  his  orders  five  or  six 
hundred  nondescript  soldiers,  some  of  whom  carried  old 
smooth-bore  muskets.  A  select  company  was  armed  with 
enormously  long  rifles  of  Persian  manufacture,  having 
attached  a  fork  support  as  a  rest,  like  the  mediaeval  arque- 
buses. The  tall  brick  bridge  spanning  the  river  has  four 
arches,  and  its  northern  end  is  protected  by  a  ruined  bar- 
bican. On  the  north  side  of  the  river  are  extensive  remains 
of  the  old  town,  or  rather  its  suburbs,  all  of  unbaked  brick. 
In  their  midst  is  a  large  modern  brick  house,  built  by  a 
former  governor  of  the  fort.  From  the  ramparts  the  eye 
ranges  over  an  immense  expanse  of  plain,  unbroken  save 
by  an  occasional  group  of  Turcoman  huts,  and  the  colossal 
remains  of  the  entrenchments  along  the  so-called  Alexan- 
der's wall,  which  here  runs  parallel  to  the  Giurgen  at  a 
distance  of  from  two  to  three  miles  to  the  north.  Within 
sight  are  three  medressts,  or  collegiate  institutions,  for  the 
instruction  of  Turcoman  students  for  the  priesthood. 
These  are  some  of  the  few  permanent  structures  I  have 
ever  seen  among  the  nomads.  They  are  built  of  large  flat 
heavy  bricks  taken  from  the  Kizil  Alan  and  its  old  forts. 
They  are  generally  square  buildings,  forty  feet  on  either  side, 
two  stories  high,  with  a  sloping  broad-eaved  roof  of  red  tiles, 
the  latter  also  derived  from  the  ancient  turns.  All  these 
different  objects,  by  an  optical  illusion,  seem  of  enormous 


MUTUAL  HOSTILITY.  277 

size,  and  floating,  cut  off  from  earth  in  the  trembling  opal 
mirage. 

I  am  not  aware  whether  up  to  the  present  any  systema- 
tic excavations  have  been  made  in  these  old  entrenchments 
and  mounds ;  but  I  think  that  such  ought  to  well  repay 
the  trouble.  Even  the  chance  excavations  made  for  the 
purposes  of  interment  by  the  Turcomans,  for  they  always 
choose  elevated  sites  for  such  purposes,  bring  to  light  pieces 
of  silver  money  and  ancient  pottery  of  the  Alexandrian 
period.  Forty  or  fifty  miles  to  the  southward  rose,  tier 
over  tier,  the  huge  ridges  of  the  Elburz  chain  of  mountains, 
then  covered  with  snow  almost  to  their  base.  Nestling  at 
their  foot,  half  hidden  by  the  dense  forest  growth  around, 
the  towers  of  Asterabad  were  faintly  visible ;  and  here  and 
there  gigantic  columns  of  dense  black  smoke  rose  into  the 
still  air,  until  their  heads  appeared  like  clouds  in  the  sun- 
light. These  proceeded  from  the  vast  reed  and  cane  brakes 
burned  by  the  peasantry  in  order  to  dislodge  the  numerous 
wild  boars  who  work  such  havoc  in  the  rice-fields,  both 
when  the  crop  is  springing  and  when  it  is  at  maturity. 
After  sunset  the  gates  of  the  fort  are  carefully  barred,  and, 
unless  in  considerable  bodies,  none  of  the  garrison  ever 
venture  outside  the  walls.  A  kind  of  undeclared  war  is  the 
normal  state  of  things  here  between  the  Turcomans  and 
Persians,  deliberate  assassinations,  perpetrated  by  either 
party  as  it  happens  to  be  momentarily  stronger,  being  of 
frequent  occurrence.  As  an  instance  of  the  kind  of  feeling 
which  exists,  the  following  incident,  which  took  place  as  I 
was  on  my  way  to  Ak-Kala,  will  suffice. 

I  was  accompanied,  as  I  have  said,  from  the  Persian  camp 
on  the  Kara-Su  by  an  escort  of  eight  cavalry.  When  well 
out  in  the  plain  we  saw  approaching  a  Turcoman  cavalier, 
coming  along  at  the  easy  swinging  gallop  which  the  horses  of 
this  country  will  maintain  for  hours  without  fatigue.    When 


I 


/ 


278  EXCHANGING  FIRE.— THE  '  SERTIB* 

the  horseman  was  within  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  of  us 
on  our  left,  a  young  Persian  who  accompanied  me  drew  his 
revolver,  and,  cursing  the  Turcoman  as  a  Kaffir  and  a  son 
of  Shaitan,  deliberately  fired  four  shots  at  him.  The 
Turcoman,  apparently  without  heeding,  kept  on  his  way 
until,  passing  by  our  rear,  he  was  about  four  hundred  yards 
on  our  right,  close  to  his  village.  He  then  unslung  his 
long  gun,  and  sent  a  bullet  whistling  and  screeching  in  un- 
comfortable proximity  to  our  heads.  Whereupon  some  of 
the  escort  fired  at  him  repeatedly,  he  returning  the  compli- 
ment three  times,  each  time  with  bullets  which  came  quite 
close  to  us.  We  and  he  being  in  motion,  and  the  distance 
being  so  considerable,  the  danger  of  a  bullet  telling  was  of 
course  very  small,  but  the  whole  thing  shows  the  spirit 
of  the  mutual  relations  between  the  two  peoples.  This 
same  Persian  who  commenced  the  affair  with  his  re- 
volver, would  have  been  far  from  exhibiting  such  a  trucu- 
lent spirit  had  he  been  alone  or  accompanied  by  only  a 
couple  of  his  countrymen.  On  one  occasion  I  remarked  to 
him  that  I  thought  it  rather  risky  to  have  drawn  off  the 
entire  army  to  such  a  distance  from  Asterabad,  as  a  thou- 
sand or  so  of  Turcomans  might  easily  surprise  and  sack  the 
town  during  the  absence  of  its  defenders.  *  A  thousand ! ' 
f  he  exclaimed.  '  A  hundred  would  be  sufficient  to  do  that, 
and  to  put  the  whole  Persian  army  to  flight  as  well.  The 
Turcomans  never  turn  their  backs  ;  we  do.'  What  he  said 
was  not  far  from  the  truth,  and  it  shows  that  Persian 
military  prestige  is  not  high,  even  among  themselves. 

The  '  sertib '  (lieutenant-colonel)  Lutfveli  Khan,  com- 
manding the  place,  received  myself  and  my  young  Persian 
companion  very  kindly,  and  conducted  us  over  the  fort. 
It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  we  were  able  to  pass  some 
of  the  broken  portions  of  the  ramparts,  worn  down  by 
rainfalls  into  precipitous  gullies  and  inclined  planes.    The 


DRAM-DRINKING.— AN  AMUSING  PRIEST.       279 

Colonel  gravely  informed  us  that  His  Majesty  the  Shah 
had  given  orders  that  these  defects  should  be  repaired,  and 
that  doubtless  some  of  these  days  they  would  be.  I  was 
much  amused  by  seeing  this  officer  stalking  gravely  along, 
followed  by  two  mysterious  acolytes,  one  of  whom  concealed 
under  his  sizeable  mantle  a  bottle  of  arrack,  the  other 
carrying  a  set  of  those  hemispherical  brass  drinking-cups 
peculiar  to  Persia.  Whenever  we  got  into  some  convenient 
place  of  retirement,  such  as  the  interior  of  one  of  the  flank- 
ing bastion  towers,  the  bottle  and  cups  were  deftly  produced, 
and  the  forbidden  liquor  circulated  freely.  The  Colonel 
told  me  that  he  was  weary  of  his  lonesome  post  out  here  on 
the  edge  of  the  wilderness,  and  that  he  did  not  care  how 
soon  he  was  recalled.  I  asked  him  whether  the  Turcomans 
ever  menaced  him  in  his  position,  but  he  replied  that  the 
garrison  were  too  much  on  their  guard,  and  that,  besides 
the  fear  the  desert  horsemen  had  of  his  pieces  of  artillery, 
they  would  gain  but  little  even  if  they  succeeded  in  captur- 
ing the  place. 

The  northern  side  of  the  old  town  of  Giurgen,  one  angle 
of  the  site  of  which  is  occupied  by  the  fort  of  Ak-Kala, 
rested  directly  upon  the  river  itself  the  banks  of  which 
here  go  sheer  down  from  the  base  of  the  walls.  The 
ordinary  level  of  the  water  cannot  be  less  than  thirty-five 
feet  below  the  surface  of  the  plain,  and  is  entirely  inacces- 
sible, except  at  certain  points,  where  zigzag  paths  have 
been  cut  in  order  to  enable  cattle  to  descend.  At  the  time 
of  my  visit  the  Giurgen  was  gradually  rising,  and  the 
Colonel  informed  me  that  a  few  days  previously  two  of  his 
men  were  drowned  while  bathing  a  little  above  the  bridge. 
At  sundown  he  entertained  us  at  dinner,  and  we  had  the 
company  of  a  very  amusing  priest,  who,  after  chanting  the 
regulation  call  to  prayers,  in  the  cracked,  quavering  voice 
which  for  some  reason,  best  known  to  themselves,  the  Shiite 


a8o  AN  INSCRIPTION.    A  MIRZA. 

muezzinu  adopt  on  these  occasions,  and  which  contrasts  so 
unfavourably  with  the  full,  rich,  and  really  melodious  tones 
of  the  Turcoman  crier,  partook  very  liberally  of  arrack,  and 
entertained  the  company  with  Persian  comic  songs.     One 
of  these,  the  gist  of  which  I  could  not  make  out,  seemed  to 
the  Colonel  so  exquisitely  ludicrous,  that  he  was  compelled 
to  lie  back  upon  his  carpet  and  grasp  his  stomach  as  he 
shook  in  every  limb  with  convulsive  laughter.     The  dinner 
over,  and  a  few  more  brazen  cups  of  arrack  emptied,  we 
retired,  as  is  the  custom  in  Persia,  to  our  sleeping  apart- 
ments.    The  Colonel  occupied  a  large  and  spacious  kibitka 
on  a  wide  platform  above  one  of  the  northern  gates.     My 
chamber  was  in  a  permanent  brick  edifice  not  far  off.     I 
remarked  a  curious  verse  of  poetry  which  was  inscribed 
upon  the  mantelpiece  in  this  apartment.     It  was  written 
in  Persian,  in  a  very  neat  hand,  above  the  centre  of  the 
fireplace,  and  was  to  the  following  effect :  — '  We  are  here 
gathered  in  company  around  the  fire,  like  moths  around  a 
flame;  the  moths  sometimes  scorch  themselves;  this  fire 
is  the  flame,  we  are  the  moths.'     The  writer  did  not  state 
whether  or  not  he  had  scorched  himself  on  the  occasion  of 
his  writing. 

While  I  was  at  Ak-Kala  a  large  number  of  letters 
arrived  for  the  Colonel,  and  I  saw  repeated  a  process  which 
I  had  often  before  noticed  at  Asterabad — the  curious  way 
in  which  his  mirza,  or  secretary,  prepared  each  of  them  for 
perusal.  He  cut  off  the  extra  paper,  and  having  trimmed 
the  whole  neatly  round  with  a  pair  of  scissors,  handed  them 
to  the  Colonel  to  read.  This  appears  to  be  an  indis- 
pensable preliminary  ceremony  to  the  reading  of  a  letter  by 
any  person  pretending  to  a  certain  dignity. 

On  the  following  morning  my  young  Persian  acquaint 
ance  and  the  escort  returned  to  the  Persian  camp,  while  I, 
accompanied  by  a  new  servant  whom  I  had  hired  there, 


BANKS  OF  GIURGEN,— CAMEL  HERDS.  aSl 

crossed  the  bridge  over  the  Giurgen,  and,  following  the 
northern  bank,  directed  my  course  towards  Gumush  Tepe. 
On  all  sides,  and  reaching  away  to  the  horizon,  were  large 
groups  of  kibitkas,  the  Turcomans  taking  advantage  of  the 
advent  of  the  young  spring  grass  to  pasture  their  herds.  I 
was  not  wholly  free  from  apprehensions  as,  one  by  one,  we 
passed  these  groups  of  nomads,  and  I  cast  many  an 
anxious  glance  behind  me  as  I  left  the  precincts  of  each. 
I  may  here  say  that  my  object  in  returning  to  the  aoull  of 
Gumush  Tepe  by  this  particular  route  was  to  verify  the 
statements  that  had  been  made  to  me  about  large  numbers 
of  camels  being  brought  together  in  the  inter-fluvial  plain 
to  be  held  in  readiness  for  the  service  of  the  Russian  expe- 
ditionary column.  I  wished,  also,  to  examine  the  formation 
of  the  river  bank  between  Ak-Kala  and  the  sea,  for  pre- 
viously I  had  only  seen  that  portion  of  it  which  lay  between 
Nergis  Tepe  and  the  Caspian.  As  regards  the  river  banks, 
I  found  that  along  the  entire  distance  they  were  of  the  same 
steep  nature,  but  gradually  diminishing  in  height  towarde 
the  sea-coast ;  that  the  water  level  was  accessible  only  at 
certain  points,  and  at  these  only  with  difficulty.  That 
there  was  an  unusual  gathering  of  camels  north  of  the 
Giurgen  there  was  no  difficulty  in  perceiving ;  and,  more- 
over, I  could  verify  the  statement  made  by  the  Ata-bai 
Turcomans,  when  refusing  for  the  moment  to  supply  camels 
for  the  Russian  transport,  that  at  this  season  their  animals 
were  not  in  a  condition  to  work,  and  that  any  attempt  to 
force  them  to  do  so  would  cause  their  death  or  disablement. 
In  the  early  spring,  out  on  these  plains,  the  camel  sheds  its 
coat.  Those  which  composed  the  herds  which  I  met  at  short 
intervals  were  really  most  unsightly-looking  objects.  Their 
great  ragged  winter  coats  had  partially  fallen  from  their 
backs,  or  hung  in  tatters  upon  them,  leaving  the  skin 
beneath  bare,  black,  and  sodden-looking.     They  looked,  in 


282  OUM  SHALI.- GRAIN  CULTIVATION. 

fact,  as  if  they  had  been  half  boiled.  The  entire  plain  was 
covered  with  clots  of  camel  hair,  which  children  with 
baskets  were  engaged  in  collecting,  probably  with  the  view 
of  having  it  spun  into  threads  for  weaving  purposes. 

Between  Ak-Kala  and  the  sea  there  is  a  very  large 
number  of  ancient  mounds,  forming  a  complete  triple  chain ; 
and  in  many  instances  the  great  broad,  shallow  ditches 
which  sometimes  surround  their  bases  were  filled  with 
water  from  the  late  rain  and  snow  storm.  I  crossed  the 
Tchikislar-Asterabad  telegraph  line  opposite  the  Persian 
camp,  lying  south  of  the  river  at  Nergis  Tepe,  traversed 
unmolested  the  large  village  where,  on  journeying  the  first 
time  from  Tchikislar  to  Asterabad,  I  had  been  obliged  to 
have  recourse  to  my  revolver  to  drive  off  the  savage  dogs, 
and  drew  near  the  aoull  of  Oum  Shali  towards  mid-day. 
The  name  of  this  place  means,  literally,  the  *  corn  road,' 
oum,  in  the  Tartar  language,  signifying  '  a  road,'  and  shali 
a  poor  species  of  brownish  corn  used  chiefly  for  feeding 
horses.  A  considerable  extent  of  ground  was  under  cultiva- 
tion, this  fact  being  due,  I  believe,  to  the  ready  and  profit- 
able market  found  for  cereals  in  the  neighbouring  Russian 
camp.  I  have  no  doubt  that,  were  ready  transport  avail- 
able,  the  whole  of  these  vast  plains  would  speedily  be 
covered  by  the  Turcomans  with  similar  crops.  Up  to  that 
time  they  had  been  in  the  habit  of  producing  only  as 
much  grain  as  was  absolutely  necessary  for  themselves  and 
their  horses.  Beyond  Oum  Shali  are  extensive  fields  of 
giant  reeds,  which  are  generally  about  fifteen  feet  high. 
Almost  at  every  step  pheasants  (karagool),  partridges 
(kaklik),  and  a  singular  silvery  gray  bird  like  a  moorhen, 
called  by  the  Turcomans  birveltek,  sprang  up  before  us. 

Among  these  reed  growths  I  had  the  first  opportunity 
since  my  arrival  in  Persia  of  seeing  a  wolf.  He  was  feeding 
upon  the  carcass  of  a  sheep  which  had  either  been  killed  by 


A    WOLF.— LOST  IN  THE  REEDS.  283 

the  late  storms  or  which  he  had  himself  carried  off.  His 
head  was  buried  in  its  entrails,  but,  looking  up  as  I 
approached,  he  eyed  me  savagely,  his  muzzle  smeared 
with  blood.  I  fired,  and  apparently  touched  him,  for  I 
could  see  the  fur  fly  from  his  back,  whereupon  he  charged 
me  fiercely.  My  horse  trembled  with  fright,  rendering  it 
very  difficult  to  aim.  On  the  second  shot  the  enemy  turned 
tail,  and  ran  to  a  distance  of  about  a  hundred  yards,  where 
he  seated  himself,  and,  licking  his  bloody  jaws,  gazed  at  me 
as  though  he  would  say,  *  When  you  think  fit  to  go,  I  will 
resume  my  meal.' 

Noticing  that  half  a  dozen  pheasants  which  rose  close  to 
us  had  settled  in  the  reeds  some  little  distance  to  the  right,  we 
pushed  our  way  towards  them,  finding  the  utmost  difficulty 
in  forcing  a  passage  through  the  brake.  The  plumy  sum- 
mits of  these  reeds  far  overtopped*  our  heads,  even  as  we  sat 
on  horseback,  and  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  do  more  than 
guess  in  what  direction  we  were  going.  We  could  not  dis- 
cover the  pheasants,  and,  when  we  tried  to  return,  found 
that  we  had  lost  our  way.  For  fully  half  an  hour  we 
stumbled  about,  crashing  and  smashing  among  the  reeds, 
and  at  last  I  began  to  think  seriously  of  setting  fire  to  them, 
as  the  only  chance  of  getting  out  of  the  labyrinth  in  which 
we  were  involved.  Fortunately,  however,  we  struck  upon 
a  narrow  boar  path,  following  which  we  came  to  a  large 
clearing,  in  the  midst  of  which  was  a  shallow  pool,  evidently 
a  gathering  place  for  the  boars.  From  this  point  paths  led 
in  every  direction,  and,  choosing  one  of  them,  in  twenty 
minutes  we  emerged  into  a  comparatively  open  space, 
though  far  from  the  road  from  which  we  had  strayed. 

As  I  drew  near  Kara  Suli  Tepe,  the  last  mound  inter- 
vening.between  me  and  Gumush  Tep6,  I  noticed  at  least 
fifty  or  sixty  vultures  and  eagles  at  a  tremendous  altitude, 
soaring  and  wheeling  above  a  point  close  to  the  mound.    A 


384  STRANDED  FISH. 

great  number  of  sea-gulls  were  also  flying  to  and  fro. 
On  approaching,  the  ground  seemed  covered,  in  places, 
with  some  white  material,  which  at  a  distance  resembled 
oyster-shells.  Running  close  by  Kara  Suli  Tepe,  and 
emptying  itself  into  the  Giurgen,  is  a  second  Kara-Su — for 
the  Turcomans  seem  to  give  this  name  to  nearly  every 
small  stream.  Its  bed  and  the  banks  on  either  side  were 
completely  covered  with  fish  of  various  kinds,  some  of  them, 
still  alive,  floundering  and  splashing  in  the  little  water 
which  lay  in  pools  among  the  muddy  banks.  The  greater 
portion,  however,  were  dead,  and  putrefying  in  the  sun. 
Within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  bed  of  the  stream  these  fish 
were  lying  three  and  four  deep.  Their  numbers  must  have 
been  immense.  It  was  the  presence  of  this  food  that  had 
attracted  all  the  vultures,  eagles,  and  aquatic  birds.  It 
appears  that  during  my  absence  in  Asterabad  one  of  the 
usual  spring  overflows  of  the  Giurgen  had  taken  place.  The 
waters  had  extended  into  the  bed  of  the  Kara-Su,  flooding 
a  considerable  tract  of  country  on  either  side,  and  subsiding 
as  suddenly  as  they  had  risen.  Hence  the  stranding  of 
these  vast  quantities  of  fish.  Several  Turcomans,  with 
camels  and  horses,  were  carrying  away  basketfuls  of  them. 
They  are  split  open,  slightly  salted,  and  dried  in  the  sun. 

Old  Dourdi,  as  well  as  everyone  else,  was  surprised  to 
see  me  back  again  at  Gumush  Tep6  so  soon.  I  noticed 
considerable  uneasiness  on  the  part  of  my  old  host,  and  was 
quite  at  a  loss  to  account  for  it.  Several  times  he  seemed 
about  to  communicate  something  to  me,  but  on  each  occasion 
he  checked  himself,  so  that  I  did  not  press  him  to  tell  me 
what  was  on  his  mind.  My  stay  at  Gumush  Tep6  was  not 
protracted — principally  because  everything  seemed  stagnant 
at  Tchikislar  for  the  time  being,  and  also  because  I  had  no 
fresh  observations  to  make  in  the  village.  I  find  in  my 
note-book  only  a  few  jottings  relating  to  this,  my  last  visit 


A  KURD  LOTHARIO.  285 

to  Gumush  Tepe.    One  is  to  the  effect  that  the  wood-turners 
who  caused  the  article  in  process  of  manufacture  to  revolve 
by  drawing  backwards  and  forwards  a  bow  the  loose  string 
of  which  was  passed  once  round  a  wooden  cylinder  on  the 
axle,  directed  the  chisel  partly  by  grasping  it  with  the  great 
toes  of  both  feet,  and  partly  with  the  disengaged  hand. 
Another  note  refers  to  the  new  servant  whom  I  hired  at  the 
Persian  camp.    He  was  by  birth  a  Kurd  from  Budjnoord, 
on  the  Atterek,  and  a  Sunnite  Mussulman.     Contrary  to 
Mahomedan  usage,   he  wore  all  his  hair,   which    curled 
upwards  in  a  heavy  roll  all  round  from  under  the  edges  of 
his  orthodox  Persian  hat  of  black  Astrakan  wool,  and  was 
accurately  divided  down  the  centre,  for  he  affected  the  dress 
and  style  of  a  Teheran  dandy.    He  was  about  twenty-four 
years  of  age,  very  good  looking,  and  a  devoted  admirer  of 
the  fair  sex.    He  was  continually  getting  me  into  trouble, 
for,  instead  of  looking  after  my  horses,  he  was  ever  per- 
ambulating the  village,  and  thrusting  himself  unbidden  into 
the  Turcoman  houses  wherever  he  saw  a  pretty  maiden. 
Over  and  over  again  was  he  chased  from  the  Mbitkas  for 
misconducting  himself;  and   once  he  rushed  breathlessly 
into  old  Dourdi's  dwelling  pursued  by  an  enraged  elderly 
matron  who  brandished   a  lighted  stick,  which  she  had 
snatched  from  the  fire  for  want  of  a  better  weapon,  and  who 
came  to  me  to  make  dire  complaints  about  the  undue 
liberties  he  had  been  taking  with  her  daughter,  and  that, 
too,  in  the  face  of  everybody.    I  was  advised  to  keep  him 
at  home,  or  that  otherwise  he  would  some  fine  day  have  a 
knife  stuck  into  him. 

Despairing  of  obtaining  permission  to  accompany  the 
Russian  columns,  and  tired  of  the  inactive  and  unprofitable 
life  that  I  was  leading,  I  determined  to  stay  no  longer  at 
Gumush  Tepe,  but  to  return  to  Asterabad,  and  thence  try 
to  make  my  way  along  the  southern  bank  of  the  Giurgen 


286  A  RUSSIAN  THREAT. 

through   the  Goklan  country  as  far  as  the   Kopet   Dagh 
Mountains,  and  to  cross  them  to  the  Akhal  Tekke  country. 
I  knew  that  such  a  journey  would  be  fraught  with  the 
extremest  peril,   but  I  was  resolved  to  risk   everything 
rather  than  continue  to  spend  my  time  as  I  had  been, 
during  the  preceding  five  months.     I  only  waited  until 
one  of  my  horses,  which  had  become  slightly  sore-backed, 
could   get    quite    cured,  before  I  put  my  intention   into 
execution.    On  the  evening  previous  to  the  day  which  I 
had  fixed  for  my  departure  old  Dourdi  took  me  confiden- 
tially aside,  and  disburdened  himself  of  the  secret  which 
had  been  weighing  on  his  mind  since  my  last  arrival  at  the 
village.    He  said  that  the  military  authorities  at  Tchikislar 
had  repeatedly  made  enquiries  of  Turcomans  who   had 
visited  the  camp  as  to  whether  I  still  remained  at  Gumush 
Tep6,   and  that  that  same  evening  a  message  had  been 
brought  to  the  effect  that  if  I  did  not  at  once  withdraw 
from  the  aoull  Cossacks  would  be  sent  to  bring  me  a  prisoner 
to  Tchikislar.     Though  this  information  was  subsequently 
again  conveyed  to  me  from  another  and  a  very  reliable 
source,  I  had  difficulty  in  attaching  any  value  to  it.    Gumush 
Tep6  will,  doubtless,  sooner  or  later  pass  once  more  into 
Russian  hands,  but  it  would  have  been  a  mere  piece  of 
foolish  impertinence  for  the  Tchikislar  military  authorities 
to  have  sent  any  message,  such  as  that  which  I  was  told 
had  been  delivered,  to  the  subject  of  another  Power  who  was 
residing  within  the  frontier  of  a  third.     The  threat  may 
have  been  employed  with  an  idea  of  impressing  the  Turco- 
mans with  a  belief  in  the  great  power  of  Russia,  even  beyond 
her  own  borders ;  but  I  am  inclined  to  regard  the  whole 
thing  as  apocryphal,  or  at  most  as  the  outcome  of  idle 
vapouring  on  the  part  of  some  subordinate  within  the 
Muscovite  camp. 

On  the  morning  of  April  20,  1880,  at  earliest  dawn,  I 


DANGERS  OF  THE  ROAD.      .  287 

once  more  rode  out  into  the  plains  that  separated  me  from 
Asterabad.  Forty  miles  are  but  little  to  those  who  have 
locomotives  to  carry  them,  but  forty  miles  on  a  horse 
carrying  at  the  same  time  all  one's  worldly  goods,  constitute 
a  much  more  serious  distance,  especially  when,  owing  to 
spring  floods,  a  river  of  more  than  twenty  feet  in  depth 
intervenes.  Then  there  was  another  difficulty  that  people 
elsewhere  would  scarce  think  of.  Owing  to  the  frequent 
passage  of  Russian  and  Armenian  agents  over  the  plain  in 
search  of  cattle  and  grain  for  the  camp  at  Tchikislar,  there 
were  many  young  horsemen  fromadjacent  villages  who  thought 
it  worth  their  while  to  '  take  to  the  road,'  instead  of  looking 
after  their  more  legitimate  business.  Even  under  ordinary 
circumstances  an  inhabitant  of  these  parts  would  as  soon 
think  of  going  two  miles  without  his  sabre  and  gun  as  a 
Londoner  of  leaving  his  house  without  an  umbrella ;  and 
then,  not  only  would  a  man  not  start  on  a  journey,  however 
short,  unarmed,  but  he  would  not  go  unaccompanied  by  at 
least  a  couple  of  others. 

It  is  odd  enough  that  this  terrorism  is  not  wrought  by 
Tekke  or  Goklan  raiders,  such  as  usually  carry  off  the 
flocks  and  camels  of  the  villagers,  and  sometimes  themselves 
into  the  bargain,  but  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  Atterek 
delta,  who  have  earned  for  themselves  a  most  unenviable 
reputation  for  thievery  and  brigandage.  On  the  very  day 
I  left  Gumush  Tep6  an  unfortunate  Armenian  trader  was 
killed  by  these  people.  His  body  was  recovered  and  brought 
into  Tchikislar.  The  delta  villages  have  been  the  head- 
quarters of  the  man-stealers,  the  dealers  in  kidnapped 
Persians,  and  though  the  presence  of  the  Russian  war 
steamers  at  Ashurade  and  on  the  Caspian  generally  has  put 
a  stop  to  their  former  business,  the  spirit  of  evil  is  still 
strongly  rife  among  them.  That  their  own  countrymen, 
who  themselves  do    not  bear  an  immaculate  character. 


388  INSURGENT  TURCOMANS. 

should  be  afraid  of  them,  speaks  volumes.    I  shudder  when 
I  think  how  often  I  have  gone  alone  among  them,  and 
attribute  my  safety  to  the  unconscious  audacity  of  the  pro- 
ceeding.   I  had  not  quite  made  up  my  mind  whether  to 
proceed  direct  to  Asterabad,  or  to  push  on  for  a  couple  of 
days  in  an  easterly  direction,  to  Hadjilar,  the  point  to 
which  the  Persian  camp  had  been  moved  for  the  purpose  of 
collecting  the  annual  tribute  among  the  Goklan  Turcomans 
of  that  district.    Having  some  letters  to  post,  and  wishing 
to  get  them  off  as  soon  as  possible,  I  decided  on  making  for 
Asterabad  as  the  first  stage  in  my  journey.  It  was  fortunate 
I  did  so,  for  had  I  gone  eastward  I  should  either  have 
been  made  a  prisoner  or  killed.    During  the  preceding 
four  years  the  turbulent  Goklan  Turcomans  had  paid  no 
taxes  to  the  Persian  Government,  and,  without  being  in  a 
state  of  actual  insurrection,  simply  declined  to  pay  any. 
Mustapha  Khan,  the  energetic  Governor  of  Asterabad,  re- 
solved that  the  money  should  be  forthcoming — partly,  I  dare 
say,  owing  to  the  fact  that,  more  Persico,  a  tolerably  fair 
per-centage  of  it  would  remain  in  his  own  hands.     He 
marched  with  his  troops  to  the  spot,  and  encamped.    An 
interview  with  the  principal  Turcoman  chiefs  was  eminently 
unsatisfactory.     The  Turcomans  withdrew  their  flocks  to  a 
distance,  and  passed  their  nights  in  galloping  round  the 
entrenched  camp  discharging  their  long  muskets  at  the 
defenders.    In  the  course  of  one  evening  they  managed  to 
carry  off  five  horses.     Three  messengers  from  Asterabad 
were  intercepted  and  killed.    A  state  of  blockade  existed, 
and  only  the  lucky  chance  of  my  having  letters  to  post  saved 
me  from  the  risky  adventure  of  trying  to  cross  the  lines.     A 
compromise  was  afterwards  effected,  and  the  active  hostility 
of  the  nomads  ceased  for  the  moment. 

As  I  rode  out  of  Gumush  Tepe  my  way  lay  across  a  dead 
level  plain,  broken  only  by  the  long,  flat  mounds  of  the  line 


NASCENT  VERDURE,— PUTREFYING  FISH.     289 

of  ancient  entrenchments  known  as  Alexander's  Wall,  and 
the  occasional  sail  of  a  Turcoman  lugger  making  its  way 
slowly  up  the  turbid,  swollen  stream  of  the  Giurgen. 
The  plain  is  so  flat,  and  the  river  banks  are  so  sharp-cut 
and  nearly  vertical,  that  as  it  winds  through  the  Steppe  the 
sails  of  the  river  boats  seem  rising  from  the  Sahara  itself.  A 
hundred  yards  away  the  ground  appears  covered  with  a  carpet 
of  emerald  green,  but  beneath  one's  horse's  feet,  except  on 
very  close  inspection,  nothing  but  bare,  muddy  soil  is 
visible.  There  is,  however,  a  tender  springing  grass  like  a 
green  down,  which  in  places  is  almost  grown  enough  to  allow 
of  sheep  nibbling  at  it.  A  little  later  in  the  year  this 
nascent  verdure  is  scorched  to  death  by  the  fierce  sun, 
which  was  already  hotter  than  was  at  all  agreeable.  As 
we  drew  near  the  bed  of  the  little  river  running  by  Kara 
Suli  Tepe,  where  I  had  previously  seen  the  immense  shoals 
of  stranded  fish,  a  putrescent  odour  met  my  nostrils.  The 
stench  was  overpowering,  and  reminded  me  of  that  of  the 
bodies  of  decomposing  camels,  which  I  have  seen  sweltering 
in  the  summer  sun.  A  few  days  after  I  had  first  seen  them 
the  fish  had  probably  become  so  decomposed  as  to  be  con- 
sidered undesirable  even  by  sea-gulls  and  vultures,  and  the 
bulk  of  them  were  still  there,  rotting  in  the  mud,  exhaling  a 
pestilential  miasma  which  it  was  marvellous  did  not  create 
disease  in  its  immediate  neighbourhood.  A  little  co-opera- 
tion and  industry,  on  the  part  of  the  Turcomans  dwelling 
within  a  reasonable  distance  of  the  spot,  would  have  served 
to  convert  this  now  putrefying  mass  into  a  plentiful  store  of 
wholesome  food.  The  excess  not  consumed  by  themselves 
could  be  profitably  disposed  of  to  the  more  inland  Turco- 
mans and  to  the  population  of  Asterabad  and  its  vicinity. 

I  have  already  described  the  road  from  Gumush  Tep6 
to  Asterabad,  and  have  nothing  new  to  say  concerning  it. 
I  floundered  through  the  slimy  black  mud  of  the  stream 

vol.  i.  u 


290        A  MISTAKE.— THE  GIURGEN  SWOLLEN. 

which  flows  towards  the  mound  of  Kara  Soli  Tep6,  and  had 
an  odd  encounter  on  the  opposite  bank.  Two  Turcomans, 
one  a  moullah,  or  priest,  and  the  other  a  fisherman,  took 
me  and  my  servant  for  robbers,  and  brought  us  to  a  halt 
with  their  levelled  guns  until  we  managed  to  explain  who 
we  were.  I  must  frankly  say  that  if  I  were  taken  for  a 
robber,  I  took  my  adversary  for  the  same  ;  and  if  he  had 
the  smallest  idea  of  what  a  near  escape  he  had  of  being 
shot  by  me,  he  would  feel  very  thankful.  The  only  new 
feature  of  the  road  was  the  passage  of  the  river  Giurgen, 
now  very  much  flooded.  Until  at  the  very  brink  of  the 
stream  one  has  no  notion  of  its  presence ;  and  then  a 
swollen  angry  tide  of  seething  yellow  waters  comes  suddenly 
into  view,  flowing  between  vertical  banks  of  stiff  brownish 
clay.  It  is  not  more  than  fifty  yards  wide,  and  its  winding 
bed  is  as  regular  as  that  of  a  canal.  For  half  a  mile  on 
either  side,  the  rich  loamy  soil,  covered  by  a  sprinkling  of 
bushes,  was  as  thoroughly  torn  up  by  the  snouts  of  wild 
boars  as  if  a  steam  plough  had  been  at  work  on  it.  The 
number  of  boars  must  be  enormous.  Where  they  conceal 
themselves  in  the  daytime  is  to  me  a  profound  mystery,  for 
Car  and  near  there  is  not  enough  cover  to  conceal  a  rat. 
The  same  may  be  said  of  the  jackals.  One  may  traverse 
the  plains  for  hours  without  seeing  any  covers  within  which 
these  animals  could  hide  themselves  during  the  day ;  yet 
no  sooner  has  the  gloaming  arrived  than  they  seem  to 
spring  up,  as  if  by  magic,  from  the  ground ;  and  their 
yelping  wails  may  be  heard  not  fifty  yards  distant  from  a 
village  within  ten  miles  of  which  I  am  certain  not  one  could 
have  been  seen  an  hour  previously. 

I  found  half  a  dozen  Turcomans,  with  a  heterogeneous 
collection  of  sheep  and  cows,  halted  on  the  river  brink, 
making  preparations  to  cross.  On  the  opposite  side  were 
the  kibitkas  of  a  village,  the  immediate  surroundings  of  H 


SWIMMING  THE   G1URGEN.  291 

Geldi  Khan,  the  chief  of  the  district,  for  be  had  again 
changed  his  position  since  I  last  saw  it.  The  passage  of 
the  river  was  characteristic  of  nomad  life.  The  stream  was 
flowing  rapidly— at  the  rate  of  six  miles  an  hour,  at  least. 
Saddles  and  horsecloths  were  taken  off,  and  the  animal  was 
conducted  to  the  steep  edge  of  the  river,  which  flowed  about 
eight  feet  below,  and  tumbled  in.  He  turned  a  couple  of 
times,  breasting  the  current,  and  then  in  a  very  business- 
like manner  struck  out  for  the  opposite  shore.  It  was 
evident  that  all  the  animals  were  accustomed  to  this  method 
of  fording,  for  the  cows  and  sheep  exhibited  not  the  least 
alarm  on  being  brought  to  the  river's  edge.  All  went  over 
in  gallant  style.  The  choice  of  the  point  for  crossing 
showed  an  eminently  practical  spirit.  It  was  selected 
where  the  river  made  an  elbow  towards  us.  As  a  con- 
sequence the  shore  on  our  side,  owing  to  the  current 
impinging  against  it,  was  vertical— sometimes  almost  over- 
hanging. This  didn't  matter,  because  the  animals  were 
thrown  into  the  water.  On  the  opposite  shore,  on  account 
of  the  bend  of  the  river,  the  ground  shelved,  and  gave 
an  easy  access  for  landing.  One  of  my  horses,  a  large  grey 
Caucasian  animal,  seemed  to  understand  the  whole  pro- 
ceeding. He  went  into  the  river  of  his  own  accord,  and 
swam  across.  The  other,  bred  on  the  Ehirgese  steppes, 
had  probably  never  seen  so  much  water  before  in  his  life ; 
and  once  in  the  current  seemed  sadly  at  a  loss  what  to  do. 
Half  a  dozen  times  he  tried  to  clamber  up  the  steep  slope 
whence  he  had  been  thrown  in,  and  finding  this  vain,  went 
into  the  midst  of  the  river.  The  current  was  so  strong 
that  I  greatly  feared  he  would  be  swept  away ;  but  when  he 
at  last  espied  his  comrade  on  the  opposite  bank,  he  went 
across — swimming  as  quickly  as  a  man  could  walk.  For 
the  saddles,  baggage,  and  men  there  was  a  small  taxmul. 
It  was  only  large  enough  to  carry  the  boatman  and  another 

U2 


392  PROFUSE  HOSPITALITY. 

person.  The  craft  was  so  frail,  and  rocked  so  to  and  fro 
in  the  current,  that  before  embarking  I  took  the  precaution 
of  doffing  my  long  boots  and  sword-belt  for  fear  of  an 
accident  in  the  middle  of  the  passage.  The  horses  and 
other  animals  seemed  to  take  to  the  water  with  a  certain 
amount  of  avidity,  owing  to  this  .being  the  season  for 
shedding  their  coats — the  advent  of  summer.  My  Khirgese 
horse,  who  usually  looked  more  like  a  bear  than  any  other 
animal  I  know  of,  had  the  general  appearance  of  a  mangy 
goat,  for  his  hair  was  falling  off  in  patches. 

I  know  nothing  stranger  than  the  profuse  hospitality 
with  which  these  Turcoman  nomads  will  receive  in  their 
kibitka  the  traveller  whom  they  would  plunder  with  the 
greatest  pleasure  five  hundred  yards  away.    I  had  scarcely 
clambered  up  the  steep  bank  when  I  was  literally  seized 
upon,  brought  to  the  Khan's  house,  and  forced  to  swallow 
an  amount  of  rice,  boiled  with  olive  oil  from  Khiva,  which  I 
believe  remained  in  my  stomach   for  forty-eight   hours. 
When  I  succeeded  in  making  these  good  people  understand 
that  after  all  one's  stomach  has  limits,  the  enormous  dish 
was  taken  away ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  it  was  announced 
that  my  escort  was  waiting.     I  found  ten  horsemen  drawn 
up  before  the  door.     They  looked,  as  far  as  the  men,  and 
especially  their  hats,  were  concerned,  like  so  many  of  the 
Scots  Greys ;  only  their  horses  were  superior  to  those  of  that 
regiment.     These  men  were  supposed  to  see  me  safely  to 
Asterabad.     As  a  French  writer  says,  '  It  was  an  ingenious 
manner  of  avoiding  meeting  brigands  on  the  road  by  taking 
them  with  you.'     In  fact,  the  only  possible  danger  I  could 
run  in  my  twenty-five  miles'  ride  to  the  town  was  the  risk  of 
meeting  the  good  people  who  escorted  me.    Our  way  lay 
close  to  the  ruins  of  Mehemet  Giurgen  Kala.    Here  and 
there  amid  the  fresh  green  surface  were  dark  patches  where 
lay  the  bones  of  fifty  or  sixty  sheep  and  lambs,  the  victims 


VICTIMS  OF  THE  TENKIS.—A  NEW  DEPARTURE.  293 

of  the  storms.  The  scene  forcibly  recalled  to  my  mind 
battle-fields  I  had  seen  elsewhere  in  Asia,  when  jackal  and 
wolf  had  done  their  work.  Till  I  reached  the  banks  of  the 
Kara-Su  river  the  bones  formed  one  extensive  memento  mori 
over  the  plain.  Remarking  these  serious  effects  of  winter 
storms,  it  has  more  than  once  struck  me  that  it  is  odd 
these  Turcomans  seem  to  learn  but  little  from  experience. 
Year  after  year,  during  succeeding  ages,  the  snow-fraught 
tenkia  sweeps  over  the  Steppes,  bringing  death  in  its  train. 
Where  ancient  earthworks  exist  they  are  taken  advantage 
of  as  shelter ;  but  it  never  enters  into  the  heads  of  the 
shepherds  to  construct  anything  similar.  Their  general 
action  is  quite  in  consonance  with  their  wretched  little 
conical  heads,  in  which  firmness  and  ferocity  are  the 
dominating  organs. 

A  ride  entirely  devoid  of  any  incident  of  interest  brought 
me  to  the  northern  gate  of  Asterabad.  I  had  a  long  talk 
with  Mr.  Churchill  about  my  proposed  ride  into  the  Akhal 
Tekke  country ;  I  also  learned  that  General  Skobeleff  was 
on  his  way,  if  he  had  not  already  arrived,  to  take  command 
of  the  Trans-Caspian  expedition.  After  mature  deliberation 
I  resolved  to  proceed  to  Teheran,  and  there  solicit  the 
friendly  offices  of  Mr.  Zinovieff,  the  Russian  Minister  at 
that  capital,  believing  that  he  might  be  able  to  procure  for 
me  the  permission  to  accompany  the  Russian  columns  which 
had  been  denied  to  my  own  direct  application.  I  had  met 
this  gentleman  at  Krasnavodsk,  at  the  house  of  General 
Lomakin,  and  from  his  great  courtesy  on  that  occasion  I 
entertained  hopes  that  he  would  interest  himself  in  my  be- 
half. Mr.  Churchill  was  about  to  leave  for  Baku,  en  route 
for  Palermo,  to  which  Consulate  he  had  just  been  appointed, 
and  as  he  intended  journeying  vid  Resht,  through  which 
town  lay  my  easiest  and  most  expeditious  route  to  Teheran, 
I  resolved  to  accompany  him. 


a94  AROUND  ASTERAEAD. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

ASTERABAD    TO    ENZKLI. 

Environs  of  Asterabad — Green  corn  fodder — Pruning  corn  crop* — Earthquake 
shock — Flan  of  journey — My  travelling  companion* — Jungle  road — Den- 
golan — Sleeping  sheds — Forest  growth — Wild  animals — Karaoul  Hanes— 
A  lonely  grave— Gez — Stuck  in  a  quagmire— Kenar  Gez — Mercurius  and 
Cavcass  Company — Landing  accommodation — Ashurade — Russian  and 
Persian  policy  -Absurd  building  restrictions — M.  Yussuf — White  truffles 
— Cotton — Loups  and  box-wood — Gn  board  the  '  Cesarewitcb  * — Fog  off 
Tchikislar — Commissariat  swindling — Meshed-i-Ser — Cavalry  at  sea- 
Shah's  summer  palace  at  Enzeli — Persian  launches — Mr.  Churchill's 
departure — The  '  Cesarewitch '  mail  steamer — Astatki  ship  furnace. 

Abound  Asterabad  the  country  was  deliriously  green,  and 
the  woods  were  clothed  in  their  vernal  dress.  I  have 
seldom  looked  over  a  more  beautiful  and  luxuriant  prospect 
than  that  to  be  seen  from  the  ramparts  of  the  old  Persian 
city  at  this  season.  At  all  times,  indeed,  the  immediate 
environs  of  the  town  are  very  fertile  and  beautiful;  the 
never-failing  water  supply  and  the  generous  heat  of  the 
climate  would  scarcely  allow  them  to  be  otherwise.  Still, 
with  the  exception  of  the  woods,  the  surrounding  verdure 
is,  to  a  great  extent  at  least,  the  result  of  human  labour,  the 
ground  never  appearing  to  produce  grass  unless  it  be 
regularly  sown,  as  I  discovered  when  I  gave  directions  for 
my  horses  to  be  taken  outside  the  walls  of  Asterabad  in 
order  that  they  might  pick  up  whatever  fresh  spring  grass 
they  could  find  in  the  fosses  of  the  ramparts  and  in  shady 
jungle  patches.  My  servant  came  back  with  the  story 
that  he  had  been  all  round  the  walls  without  being  able  to 


GREEN  CORN  FODDER.  295 

find  any  grass  whatever.  At  this  I  became  very  vexed, 
thinking  that  he  was  telling  falsehoods  to  avoid  the  trouble 
of  watching  the  horses  while  they  grazed,  and  I  determined 
to  test  the  truth  of  his  statements  with  my  own  eyes.  In 
the  early  spring,  when  the  horses  are  changing  their  winter 
coats,  fresh  green  fodder  is  absolutely  necessary  in  order  to 
keep  them  from  getting  out  of  condition.  I  not  only  went 
round  the  walls,  but  far  and  near  on  every  side.  The  road- 
sides, banks,  and  hollows  looked  fresh  and  green  enough, 
but  it  was  with  dandelion,  crowsfoot,  and  a  thousand  other 
herbs — in  fact,  anything  but  grass,  of  which  I  could  not 
discover  a  single  blade  anywhere  except  in  the  enclosed 
meadows.  The  green  corn,  extending  in  vast  fields  for 
miles  round,  was  at  least  two  feet  high,  and  I  was  much 
surprised  to  see  men  busily  engaged  with  sickles  in  cutting 
it  down  in  this  state,  and  conveying  it  on  the  backs  of 
camels  and  horses  to  the  town.  I  was  informed  that  it 
was  used  as  fodder  for  horses,  in  the  same  way  as  was  the 
grass  in  other  countries  and  climes.  Some  people  at 
this  season  send  their  horses  down  to  the  plains  beyond 
the  Kara-Su,  leaving  them  during  the  spring  in  the  care  of 
the  Turcomans,  to  get  fat  upon  the  luxuriant  grass  of  the 
inter-fluvial  plain.  This,  however,  is  a  risky  proceeding, 
owing  to  the  thievish  and  predatory  habits  of  the  tribes  ;  I, 
at  least,  should  not  care  to  entrust  an  animal  of  any  value 
to  them.  As  there  are  many  such  at  Asterabad,  the  owners 
have  recourse  to  green  corn  while  still  in  the  blade.  I 
asked  whether  this  premature  cutting  down  of  the  stalk  did 
not  destroy  its  power  of  producing  grain  later,  and  learned 
that  quite  the  contrary  resulted,  and  that  after  this  kind 
of  pruning  it  grows  up  more  vigorously.  In  this  way  the 
agriculturists  manage  to  get  considerable  value  out  of  their 
land.  They  have  two  crops  of  grain  in  the  year,  the  fields 
also    doing    duty  in  the  spring  as    luxuriant  meadows. 


996  EXPERIMENTS  IN  CORN-GROWING. 

A  propos  of  this  reaping  of  corn-stalks  before  they  come 
into  ear,  Mr.  Churchill  told  me  that  when  on  a  visit  to  a 
convent  at  Spalatro,  on  the  Dalmatian  coast,  he  was  shown 
by  one  of  the  monks  some  corn-plants  which  he  was  in- 
formed  had  produced  six  thousand  grains  for  each  one  sown. 
This  was  the  result  of  an  agricultural  experiment.  The 
corn  was  sown  in  October,  and,  when  well  above  ground,  was 
kept  cut  down  until  spring.  It  was  then  allowed  to  grow 
up,  with  the  result  which  I  have  stated.  Whether  the 
grains  produced  in  this  manner  were  equal  in  size  and 
quality  to  those  which  would  have  resulted  had  the  plant 
been  allowed  to  pursue  its  natural  growth,  I  was  not  able 
to  ascertain. 

Just  before  quitting  Asterabad  we  had  a  slight  earth- 
quake shock.  Such  occurrences  are  very  common  in  these 
regions.  I  was  standing  in  the  court-yard  of  the  consulate, 
talking  with  one  of  Mr.  Churchill's  sons.  The  courtyard 
was  planted  with  orange  trees,  and  had  a  large  water-tank 
in  its  centre.  The  sun  was  shining  hotly,  and  not  a  breath 
disturbed  the  air.  The  heat  was  rather  oppressive.  All 
at  once  was  heard  a  sound  as  of  the  rushing  of  a  mighty 
blast.  The  branches  of  the  orange  trees  waved,  and  con- 
centric circles  spread  themselves  over  the  surface  of  the 
water  in  the  reservoir,  indicating  a  vibration  of  the  earth. 
At  the  same  time  we  felt  the  ground  creep,  as  it  were,  be- 
neath our  feet.  This  was  on  April  24.  Two  months  pre- 
viously, at  Gumush  Tep6,  I  had  experienced  a  similar 
shock.  I  was  sitting  upon  my  carpet,  within  the  kibitka ; 
a  heavy  murmuring  sound,  which  I  took  to  be  an  approach- 
ing tenkis,  reached  my  ears,  and  at  the  same  time  I  felt 
the  earth  below  my  carpet  vibrate.  Several  articles  in  the 
kibitka  fell  to  the  ground,  and  old  Dourdi's  wife,  who  was 
standing  at  the  entrance,  saved  herself  from  falling  by 
grasping  the  door-post.     The  vibration  was  not  strong 


PLANS  FOR   THE  FUTURE.  297 

enough  to  upset  her,  but  she  was  greatly  disconcerted 
by  the  phenomenon,  of  which  the  Turcomans .  seemed  to 
have  a  superstitious  dread.  When  these  shocks  occur,  the 
neighbouring  mountain  of  Ak-Batlaouk,  the  mud  volcano 
north  of  Tchikislar,  usually  exhibits  signs  of  increased 
activity. 

It  was  decided  that  we  should  leave  Asterabad,  en  route 
for  Gez,  on  the  following  day  but  one,  and  I  made  my  final 
preparations  for  departure.  My  plans  were  to  leave  my 
horses  and  principal  effects  at  Asterabad,  in  charge  of  my 
servant,  and  under  the  superintendence  of  Mr.  Churchill's 
mirza—  who,  pending  the  arrival  of  the  new  consul,  would 
remain  at  the  Consulate  and  act  ad  interim  as  British 
agent — and  then  proceed  to  Teheran,  there  to  try  once 
more  to  obtain  permission  to  accompany  the  Russian 
column.  If  this  permission  should  be  granted,  my  shortest 
way  back  to  Tchikislar  would  be  through  Asterabad. 
Should  I  fail,  my  mind  was  made  up,  be  the  danger  what 
it  might,  to  penetrate  to  the  Akhal  Tekke  country,  or, 
should  the  Russians  have  arrived  there  before  me,  to  Merv 
itself.  In  this  event  it  was  my  intention  to  take  post-horses 
to  Shahrood,  a  town  on  the  postal  road  to  Meshed,  and 
about  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  distant  from  Teheran. 
There  I  should  be  joined  by  my  horses  and  servant,  and 
go  on  by  whichever  route  circumstances  should  render  most 
expedient. 

It  was  mid-day  on  April  26,  1880,  as  Mr.  Churchill  and 
family  and  myself,  with  our  following,  sallied  from  the 
western  gate  of  Asterabad  en  route  for  Eenar  Gez,  the 
so-called  port  of  Asterabad.  Our  cavalcade  was  a  tolerably 
numerous  one.  There  were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Churchill,  seated 
in  kedjaves,  or  camel  baskets,  balanced  on  opposite  sides  of 
a  stout  mule,  accompanied  by  the  mirza  and  four  servants 
of  the  household,  two  of  whom  carried  the  children  seated 


998     LEA  VING  ASTERABAD.—AN  ANCIENT  ROAD. 

before  them  on  horseback.  Then  came  several  mules  laden 
with  baggage,  and  the  procession  was  wound  up  by  Mr. 
Harry  Churchill,  the  consul's  eldest  son,  myself,  and  my 
new  Turkish  servant  Mehemet,  for  I  had  been  obliged  to 
dispense  with  the  amorous  Kurd,  who  was  of  no  manner 
of  service  to  me.  In  this  guise  we  marched  out  of  Astera- 
bad,  and,  following  a  tolerably  perfect  portion  of  Shah 
Abass'  causeway,  approached  the  border  of  the  forest  which 
stretched  between  us  and  the  Caspian. 

Considering  that  Gez  is  the  port  of  Asterabad,  and  one 
of  the  only  three  seaports  possessed  by  Persia  on  the 
Caspian  littoral,  the  state  of  the  road  leading  to  it  from  the 
latter  town  is  surprisingly  bad,  even  for  this  country.  The 
first  mile  lay  through  a  pomegranate  jungle,  and  over 
broken,  stony  ground,  gashed  and  torn  by  torrents.  There 
is,  strictly  speaking,  no  road,  and  the  traveller  has  the 
choice  of  a  hundred  footpaths,  among  which  he  is  con- 
tinually losing  his  way.  Now  and  then  we  followed  the 
track  of  Shah  Abass'  causeway.  This  was  once  a  much 
frequented  highway,  but  for  the  last  hundred  years  has 
been  little  used.  It  consisted  of  a  roadway  of  about  ten 
feet  in  width,  paved  with  roughly  hewn  stones  of  from 
twelve  to  fifteen  inches  in  diameter.  These  stones  are  now 
tossed  about  in  the  wildest  confusion,  and  constitute  most 
disagreeable  obstacles  in  the  paths  of  horses.  At  intervals 
the  causeway  disappears  -in  the  midst  of  dense  growths  of 
brushwood  and  jungle,  and  the  traveller  is  forced  to  make 
a  detour  by  one  of  the  by-paths,  with  its  slimy  yellow  mud 
and  disagreeable  thorn  bushes  on  either  side,  which  tear 
his  clothes  to  tatters.  After  some  hours'  weary  creeping 
over  this  kind  of  ground,  now  and  then  coming  to  a  full  stop 
to  hold  a  consultation  as  to  the  best  way  of  crossing  some 
deep,  water-worn  gully,  with  precipitous,  boulder-strewn 
sides,  and  crossed  by  foot  passengers  by  means  of  a  shaky 


DENGOLAN.— THROUGH  THE  FOREST.  299 

construction  of  narrow  planks  upon  which  we  did  not  dare 
trust  our  horses,  we  arrived  at  the  village  of  Dengolan. 
It  is,  as  villages  generally  are  in  these  parts,  a  collec- 
tion of  a  few  dozens  of  houses  of  unbaked  brick,  and  with 
high-pitched  roofs  with  reed  thatching,  in  connection  with 
each  of  which  is  a  platform,  lifted  on  four  poles  to  a  height 
of  twenty  feet  or  thereabouts,  and  covered  with  a  pointed 
thatch  roof.  On  these  raised  stages  the  inhabitants  sleep 
during  the  sultry  weather.  The  entire  village,  inhabited 
solely  by  Persians,  is  surrounded  by  a  high  mud  wall, 
flanked  by  towers  as  a  defence  against  the  forays  of  the 
neighbouring  Turcomans.  We  were  received  by  the  head 
man  of  the  village,  who  placed  his  own  house  at  our  dis- 
posal, and  as  Mr.  Churchill's  delicate  state  of  health  did 
not  allow  of  his  making  long  journeys,  especially  under 
circumstances  involving  such  a  scarcity  of  travelling  con- 
veniences, we  resolved  to  pass  the  night  at  Dengolan.  At 
sunrise  we  were  again  in  the  saddle,  as  we  wished  to  reach 
Gez  in  time  for  the  mail  steamer  which  it  was  expected 
would  anchor  there  the  same  evening. 

Westward  of  Dengolan  the  road  approaches  the  slopes 
of  the  Elburz  mountains,  and  passes  through  a  magnificent 
forest  reaching  to  within  a  short  distance  of  the  Caspian 
shore.  The  road  through  this  forest  is  considerably  better 
than  that  across  the  stony  jungle  on  the  side  nearest 
Asterabad,  though  there  are  occasional  formidable  ravines 
to  be  scrambled  through,  and  deep  rapid  torrents  to  be 
passed  on  rickety  bridges  consisting  of  two  or  three  trunks 
covered  by  planks,  often  in  a  very  rotten  condition.  The 
forest  is  composed  of  sycamore,  plantain,  walnut,  and  box- 
wood trees,  the  three  former  often  of  gigantic  proportions, 
so  close  together,  and  with  interspaces  so  filled  up  with 
thorn  bushes  and  creepers,  as  to  render  it  impossible  to 
penetrate  even  a  few  yards  from  the  roadway.    Leopards, 


ao6  THE  KIZIL  ALAN. 

wall,  but  simply  a  narrow  causeway,  by  which  the  swampy 
grounds,  formerly  lying  to  the  east  of  the  mound,  were 
traversed.    In  fact,  old  men  told  me  that  less  than  half  a 
century  ago  the  mound  of  Gumush  Tep6  was  entirely  sur- 
rounded by  water,  and  my  host  at  the  aoull  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Giurgen  informed  me  that  thirty  years  previously 
the  site  of  the  village  was  submerged.     That  was  consider- 
ably within  his  own  memory,  as  he  was  between  sixty  and 
seventy  years  of  age.    This  Kizil  Alan  can  be  traced  in  an 
easterly  direction,  running  along,  in  a  zigzag  fashion,  the 
slightly  raised  and  almost  imperceptible  water-shed  which 
separates  the  Giurgen  and  Atterek  rivers,  and  connects  the 
numerous  earth-mounds  or  tepis  which,  occurring  at  in- 
tervals of  from  one  to  two  miles,  dot  the  interfluvial  plain 
and  reach  away  to  the  town  of  Budjnoord,  not  far  from 
Euchan.    These  mounds,  with  the  connecting  wall-founda- 
tions, or  whatever  they  are,  are  known  to  the  Persians  and 
Turcomans  by  the  name  of  Alexander's  Wall,  and  form  a 
triple  line  of  entrenchments,  the  mounds  of  one  line  alter- 
nating with  those   before   and   behind,   and  intervening 
between    the    wooded    mountain    elopes    of    the    North 
Persian  territory,   and  the  vast  plain  reaching  away  to 
Khiva.    One  can  place  but  little  reliance  upon  these  tradi- 
tions, for  the  Easterns  of  these  regions  almost  invariably 
attribute  to  Alexander  any  works  of  considerable  magnitude 
whose  origin  is  lost  in  the  night  of  time.     They  just  as 
probably  belong  to  periods  of  various  dynasties  of  early 
Persian  monarchs,  and  the  mounds  themselves  may  very 
likely  have  been  the  sites  of  villages  in  the  times  when  these 
plains  were  inhabited  and  cultivated ;  for  exactly  similar 
ones  are  to  be  seen  to-day  along  the  north  of  Persia, 
covered  with  inhabited  houses,  and  their  brows  surrounded 
by  entrenchments.     A  propos  of  the  ancient  cultivation  of 
this  plain,  it  seems  to  be  clearly  indicated  by  the  traces  of 


ANCIENT  MOUNDS.  207 

old  irrigation  trenches  of  considerable  dimensions.  The 
people  of  Asterabad  say  that  two  centuries  ago  the 
ground  between  the  mountains  and  the  Giurgen  was  one 
vast  grove  of  palm  trees.  Of  course  I  give  all  these  tradi- 
tions for  what  they  are  worth,  and  just  as  I  heard  them 
from  the  inhabitants.  The  names  of  the  principal  mounds, 
as  we  proceed  from  Gumush  Tep6  along  the  Giurgen  in  the 
direction  of  Asterabad,  are  the  two  Kara  Suli  Tep6s,  greater 
and  lesser,  Carga  Tep6  to  the  right,  Sigur  Tep6  to  the  left, 
the  Altoun-tokmok,  lying  a  long  way  due  east,  the  Aser 
Shyia  far  off  to  the  south-east,  and  the  Giurgen  Tep6  south 
of  the  usual  ford  across  the  river.  There  are  scores  of 
other  tepes  within  view  of  any  one  of  them,  but  I  do  not 
consider  their  names  of  any  philological  or  historical  im- 
portance, as  they  are  comparatively  modern  ones,  applied 
to  them  by  the  Turcomans,  and  merely  explanatory  of 
some  peculiarity  in  form,  or  having  reference  to  their 
relations  to  certain  water-courses.  In  view  of  the  large 
amount  of  brick  scattered  around  Gumush  Tep6  itself, 
along  the  course  of  the  Eizil  Alan,  and  on  the  flanks  of 
the  different  tepes,  one  is  led  to  the  irresistible  conclusion 
that  considerable  buildingB  formerly  existed  in  this  locality, 
and  that  these  buildings  have  been  destroyed,  partly  by 
domestic  influences,  partly  during  the  marches  of  Eastern 
conquerors  of  old,  and  doubtless  to  a  very  large  extent  to 
supply  building  materials  for  neighbouring  Persian  towns. 

Immediately  on  arriving  at  the  village  of  Gumush  Tep6 
the  chief  who  escorted  me  brought  me  to  the  house  of  his 
father,  Geldi  Khan,  who  seemed  to  be  patriarch  of  the 
entire  district.  He  was  over  sixty  years  of  age,  with  refined 
aquiline  features,  cold  grey  eye,  a  long  white  moustache 
and  chin  tuft,  there  being  no  sign  of  beard  upon  the  upper 
portion  of  his  jaws.  Seated  around  him,  in  different  parts 
of  the  aladjak,  were  the  female  members  of  his  family,  all 


ao3  GELD/  KHAN. 

occupied  in  domestic  work,  such  as  spinning,  weaving,  and 
cooking.  The  Khan  told  me  that  he  had  been  three  months 
in  Teheran  as  the  guest  of  the  Shah,  with  whom,  he  said, 
he  was  on  very  good  terms.  He  had  three  sons,  the  eldest 
of  whom,  II  Geldi,  had  escorted  me  across  from  the  Persian 
camp ;  the  second  was  known  by  the  name  of  Moullah 
Eillidge.  This  latter  was  a  student  of  theology,  and  by 
courtesy  had  the  title  of  Moullah  conceded  to  him ;  in  fact, 
the  same  dignity  is  accorded  to  anyone  in  these  parts  who 
is  able  to  read  and  write.  In  other  Turkish  countries  he 
would  be  simply  styled  Khodjah.  The  third  son,  a  youth 
of  fourteen  or  fifteen,  superintended  the  grazing  of  his 
father's  flocks  and  herds.  An  old  Turcoman  named  Dourdi 
was  told  off  to  provide  me  with  lodgings  in  his  kttritka.  He 
was  ihe  immediate  henchman  of  the  old  Khan,  from  whom 
he  rented  his  house.  In  villages  like  this  the  chief  generally 
owns  a  large  number  of  dwellings,  which  he  lets  for  small 
annual  rents  to  his  followers.  The  kibitka  which  I  was  to 
share  with  Dourdi  was  but  poorly  furnished,  even  for  a 
Turcoman  hut.  As  usual,  in  the  centre  of  the  floor  was  the 
fire,  the  smoke  from  which  escaped  by  the  circular  opening 
in  the  centre  of  the  roof,  or  by  the  door,  when  owing  to 
bad  weather  this  central  aperture  was  closed  with  its  hood 
of  felt.  A  small  and  battered  brass  samovar  stood  near  the 
fire  ;  beyond  it,  on  the  side  farthest  from  the  doorway,  the 
floor  was  carpeted  with  thick  felt,  upon  which  were  laid,  as 
seats  for  people  of  more  than  ordinary  rank,  smaller  sheets 
of  the  same  material,  and  of  brighter  colours.  Around  the 
room,  to  the  height  of  four  feet,  were  horizontally  piled  a 
large  number  of  stout  tree-branches,  sawn  into  convenient 
lengths,  and  intended  for  the  winter  supply  of  fuel.  This 
wood  was  kept  within  proper  limits  by  vertical  stakes,  stuck 
into  the  ground  outside  the  heap,  the  top  of  which  was 
used  as  a  kind  of  rude  shelf  or  counter  upon  which  bolsters, 


DOMESTIC  ARRANGEMENTS.— DRESS.  209 

quilts,  and  other  sleeping  appurtenances,  were  piled,  these 
being,  indeed,  with  the  exception  of  the  carpets,  large  and 
small,  and  a  rude  horizontal  stone  corn-mill,  the  only 
articles  of  furniture  which  the  house  contained.  An  old 
Russian  musket,  bearing  upon  the  lock-plate  the  date  1851, 
but  having  of  late  years  evidently  been  supplied  with  a 
percussion  lock,  hung,  together  with  a  sabre  and  a  large 
chaplet  of  brown  stone  beads,  against  the  lattice-work  of  the 
habitation.  This  combination  of  musket,  sword,  and  beads, 
seemed  at  the  time  to  be  no  inapt  embodiment  of  Turcoman 
ideas,  or,  for  that  matter,  of  Osmanli  ones  either.  Beside 
the  fire  crouched  an  elderly  crone,  who,  whatever  she  might 
have  been  in  her  youth,  was  now  the  very  incarnation  of 
female  ugliness.  She  was  engaged  in  preparing  the  evening 
meal,  and  seemed  not  in  the  least  disturbed  by  my  entry. 
I  may  here  add  that,  with  the  exception  of  very  recently 
married  ladies,  no  Turcoman  woman  makes  even  a  pretence 
of  veiling  her  features.  It  is  not  usual,  either,  for  a  Turco- 
man to  have  more  than  one  wife,  the  fact  being  that  most 
Turcomans  find  it  difficult  to  provide  what  they  consider  a 
sufficiency  of  food,  and  do  not  care  to  have  any  extra 
mouths  in  their  aladjaks.  The  majority  of  the  women  at 
Gumush  Tepe  wore  the  characteristic  female  attire  of  these 
countries — a  pair  of  trousers  fastening  closely  round  the 
ankle ;  over  these  a  long  shirt  of  some  dark  red  or  purple 
material,  the  breast  of  which,  in  many  cases,  was  ornamented 
with  coins  and  pieces  of  silver  hung  in  horizontal  rows.  At 
Gumush  Tep6  it  was  principally  the  young  girls  and  newly- 
married  women  who  affected  much  personal  adornment,  the 
near  contact  of  the  Jaffar  Bai  Turcomans  of  the  place 
with  the  Russians  at  Tchikislar,  and  with  the  Persians  at 
Asterabad,  having  made  the  elders  of  the  community  appre- 
ciate the  value  of  silver  and  gold  coins  as  a  medium  of 
exchange  as  too  great  for  them  to  be  allowed  to  lie  idle  for 
vol.  1.  P 


Sio  DRESS. 

purposes  of  mere  bodily  ornamentation.  The  farther  one 
advances  to  the  eastward  the  less  the  value  of  money  is 
understood,  and  the  more  plentifully  do  the  ladies  decorate 
themselves  with  it.  On  state  occasions,  however,  the  Yaxnud 
women  wear  ponderous  collars  of  hammered  silver,  em- 
bellished with  flat  cornelians  and  lozenge-shaped  panels  of 
embossed  gold,  and  on  their  heads  a  hideous-looking  hat  of 
the  size  and  shape  of  an  ordinary  bandbox,  the  front  of 
which  is  hung  over  with  festoons  of  small  coins.  Hung  over 
the  back  of  this  absurd  head-dress,  and  reaching  to  the  small 
of  the  back,  is  a  long-sleeved  coat  of  crimson,  blue,  or  green, 
a  smaller  one,  fitting  closely  to  the  waist,  being  worn  over  the 
red  shirt.  This  is  the  gala  costume  of  the  ordinary  classes. 
The  wives  of  chiefs  and  of  the  richer  villagers  wear  on  all 
occasions  the  full  quantity  of  clothing  and  ornaments,  with 
the  exception  of  the  hat.  This  is  then  replaced  by  a  large 
red  handkerchief,  tied  turban- wise  around  the  head,  one  end 
falling  along  the  back.  I  have  already  described  the 
costume  of  the  male  Yamuds,  when  speaking  of  Tchikislar 
and  Hassan  Eouli.  The  children,  even  in  the  severest 
weather,  are  very  scantily  clothed  indeed,  their  entire 
costume  consisting  of  a  short  red  shirt  which  scarcely 
reaches  to  the  knees.  The  head  is  covered  with  a  little 
skull-cap  of  the  same  colour,  around  which  are  generally 
hung  five  or  six  pieces  of  silver  money,  the  top  being  sur- 
mounted by  a  small  silver  tube,  rising  from  a  hemispherical 
base.  This  appendage  to  the  head-dress  of  children  is 
common  to  both  sexes  up  to  a  certain  age,  and  seems  to 
bear  some  resemblance  in  symbolism  to  the  Koman  bulla, 
just  as  donning  the  huge  black  sheepskin  hat  seems  equi- 
valent to  investment  with  the  toga  virilis.  It  is  a  remark- 
able fact  that  though  Turcomans  are  notoriously  given 
to  thieving,  these  children's  hats,  each  with  its  eight  or  ten 
shillings'  worth  of  appended  coins   and  ornaments,   are 


DAILY  LIFE.— A  RUDE  TOILET.  211 

hardly  ever  purloined,  though  the  wearers  fling  them  at 
each  other  in  the  most  careless  manner.  I  have  seen  half- 
a-dozen  of  them  lying  about  without  any  owners  being  in 
sight.  Sometimes,  however,  they  go  astray,  and  on  sudh 
occasions  the  individual  who  volunteers  to  act  as  village 
crier  walks  among  the  kibitkas,  proclaiming  in  a  loud  voice 
that  the  hat  of  So-and-so's  child  has  been  mislaid,  and 
requesting  the  finder  to  bring  it  to  a  certain  kibitka.  I 
enquired  of  my  host  whether  theft  of  this  kind  was  usual, 
but  he  said  that  it  was  rare  indeed  that  the  missing  article 
was  not  returned  intact. 

The  mode  of  life  of  the  Turcomans  along  the  Caspian  is 
sufficiently  active.  Fully  two  hours  before  sunrise  they 
were  awake  and  about,  and,  by  the  light  of  the  smoky  astatki 
lamps,  the  women  were  to  be  seen  grinding,  by  the  rude 
hand-mill,  the  corn  required  for  the  morning's  repast, 
while  the  men  got  ready  their  luggers  and  taimuU  to 
proceed  on  their  day's  fishing,  to  convey  loads  of  hay  and 
other  commodities  to  the  Russian  camp,  or  to  seek  firewood 
or  timber  for  building  purposes  at  Eenar  Gez.  A  Turco- 
man's toilet  is  simplicity  itself.  I  give  Dourdi's  as  an 
example.  Having  donned  the  kusgun  which  served  him 
during  the  night  as  a  coverlet,  he  swept  the  carpet  on 
which  he  had  been  sleeping  with  his  huge  sheepskin  hat, 
which  he  then  proceeded  to  dust  by  banging  it  lustily  with 
the  heavy  iron  tongues.  Then,  taking  a  piece  of  fat  from 
the  pot  upon  the  hearth,  he  greased  his  boots  with  it,  finish- 
ing up  by  washing  his  hands,  using  as  soap  the  wood  ashes 
from  the  fire.  At  the  time  of  which  I  speak,  the  middle  of 
December  1879,  the  Turcomans  of  Gumush  Tepe  supplied 
the  Russian  army  at  Tchikislar  with  a  very  large  amount 
indeed  of  corn,  rice,  and  fodder,  and  to  a  great  extent 
facilitated  the  first  stages  of  its  march  to  Geok  Tep6. 

The  dietary  of  an  ordinary  Turcoman  is  by  no  means 

p  2 


212  DIETARY. 

luxurious.  Before  the  sun  rises  he  partakes  of  some  hot 
half-baked  griddled  bread,  which  has  an  intensely  clayey 
taste  and  odour.  This  is  washed  down  by  weak  black  tea, 
and  he  thinks  himself  fortunate  if  he  can  now  and  then 
procure  a  piece  of  sugar  wherewith  to  sweeten  this  draught. 
When  he  happens  to  meet  with  such  a  luxury,  he  adopts, 
with  a  view  to  economy,  the  Russian  peasant's  method  of 
sweetening  his  tea.  A  small  lump  of  sugar  is  held  be- 
tween the  teeth,  the  tea  being  sucked  through  it.  Several 
glasses  are  thus  got  through  with  an  amount  of  sugar 
which  would  scarcely  suffice  for  one  glass  taken  by  a 
Western  European.  While  the  Turcomans  of  the  Caspian 
littoral  and  a  hundred  miles  inland  use  only  black  tea,  their 
more  Eastern  brethren  constantly  consume  green.  Should 
he  be  at  home,  his  mid-day  meal  consists  of  pilaff,  made  of 
rice  if  he  be  in  funds,  or  of  brownish  oatmeal  if  otherwise. 
The  only  usual  accompaniment  to  this  is  a  little  grease  or 
butter,  boiled  through  the  mass,  or,  as  is  more  generally  the 
case,  some  dried  salt  fish.  Sometimes  on  fete  days,  dried 
plums  and  raisins  are  mixed  with  the  pilaff.  The  evening 
meal,  partaken  of  a  little  after  sunset,  is  the  best  of  the 
day,  and  for  it  is  secured  a  small  portion  of  mutton  to 
accompany  the  pHajf \  or  a  couple  of  wild  ducks  caught  or 
shot  by  some  male  member  of  the  family.  While  at  Gumush 
Tep6  I  existed  almost  exclusively  upon  wild  fowl  of  one  kind 
or  another — pheasants,  partridges,  and  pin-tailed  grouse — 
several  of  which  I  got  boiled  at  once,  keeping  a  number 
over  to  be  eaten  cold.  Some  of  the  ducks  and  geese  are 
really  excellent,  but  others  are  so  fishy  and  rank  as  to 
render  entirely  inedible  half  a  dozen  good  ones  boiled  in  the 
same  pot.  The  pelican  and  solan  goose  are  greatly  admired 
as  food  by  the  Turcomans,  though  I  could  not  appreciate 
them.  There  was  one  thing  about  Turkestan  which  I  could 
never  understand,  viz.  the  absence  of  flesh  diet  to  an  extent 


FUEL  AND  LIGHTING.  213 

that  seemed  unreasonable,  considering  the  vast  flocks  and 
herds  possessed  by  the  inhabitants.  I  could  readily  under- 
stand their  unwillingness  to  slaughter  oxen  or  cows,  as  the 
former  were  employed  in  the  tilling  of  their  scanty  fields, 
and  from  the  latter  were  derived  the  milk,  butter,  and 
cheese,  which  they  either  consumed  themselves,  or  sold  to 
the  neighbouring  Persians.  It  is  true  that  from  the  sheep 
they  derive  the  material  for  some  portion  of  their  gar- 
ments, though  most  of  their  clothing  is  composed  of  cotton 
and  camel-hair,  but  even  so,  the  large  flocks  of  sheep  and 
goats  which  they  possess  would  supply  them  more  than 
twenty  times  over  with  abundance  of  textile  fabrics.  I 
know  that  during  the  progress  of  the  Russians,  sheep  were 
largely  bought  up  by  the  Commissariat  of  the  expedition ; 
but  I  have  been  ki  places  where  this  was  certainly  not  the 
case,  inasmuch  as  the  residents  were  hostile  to  the  Muscovite 
advance. 

The  fuel  used  by  these  maritime  Turcomans  is  generally 
wood  brought  from  the  neighbouring  Persian  coast,  supple- 
mented to  a  great  extent  by  the  dried  dung  of  camels  and 
other  animals.  The  kalioun,  or  water  pipe,  is  almost  always 
ignited  by  means  of  a  dried  ball  of  horse's  dung  as  large 
as  a  small-sized  apple.  This  is  carefully  prepared  before- 
hand, from  the  fresh  material,  piled  in  heaps  in  the  sun, 
outside  the  house,  and  brought  in  by  a  dozen  at  a  time. 
These  balls  catch  fire  like  so  much  tinder ;  one  is  placed 
on  the  bowl  containing  the  tobacco,  and  the  smoking  is 
commenced.  The  first  pulls  from  the  pipe,  as  can  be 
easily  imagined,  possess  a  very  peculiar  flavour,  owing  to  the 
mingled  smoke  of  the  fuel  and  the  twmbaki. 

At  night,  the  interiors  of  the  kibitkas  are  lighted  by 
means  of  rude  earth  lamps,  very  much  resembling  small 
tea-pots,  with  exceedingly  long  and  wide  spouts.  A  bundle 
of  cotton  rag  is  stuffed  into  the  spout,  and,  reaching  to  its 


214  YAGHOURT  AND  CHEESE. 

bottom,  serves  as  8  wick,  the  flame  being  fed  by  the  black 
residual  naphtha  called  by  the  Russians  astatki.  This,  as 
I  have  already  mentioned,  is  the  residuum  after  distillation 
of  the  Baku  petroleum.  It  produces  a  lurid  red,  smoky 
flame,  five  or  six  inches  in  height. 

The  salt,  of  which  the  Turcomans  make  large  use  both 
in  cookery  and  for  curing  fish,  is  brought  from  the  island 
of  Tcheliken,  in  large  blocks  of  two  feet  in  length  and 
eight  or  ten  inches  in  thickness,  quarried  by  the  Turco- 
mans of  that  island  from  the  great  striated  layers  which 
abound  there.  It  exactly  resembles,  in  colour  and  texture, 
the  rock  salt  known  in  Europe. 

One  rarely  sees  milk  used  in  its  crude  state  among  the 
Turcomans,  as  they  seem  to  deem  it  unhealthy  when  so 
consumed.  It  is  first  boiled,  and,  when  lukewarm,  fer- 
mented. The  resulting  product  is,  when  fresh,  slightly 
sour,  and  becomes  exceedingly  so  after  the  lapse  of  twenty- 
four  hours.  This  is  known  to  the  Yamuds  by  the  name  of 
yaghourt ;  it  is  called  by  the  Tekkes  gatthuk,  and  by  the 
Persians  mast.  It  enters  largely  into  the  dietary  of  all 
three,  and  in  hot  weather  is  exceedingly  refreshing  and 
wholesome.  The  panir,  or  cheese,  is  simply  yaghourt  from 
which  the  serum  has  been  drawn  off,  and  which  is  allowed 
to  strain  and  become  more  or  less  solidified  in  small  bags 
suspended  from  the  roof,  a  little  salt  being  added  to  pre- 
serve it. 

I  had  been  but  a  few  days  at  my  new  home  when  I 
learned  that  my  friend  H  Geldi  Khan,  who  had  escorted  me 
from  Ak  Imam,  was  about  to  proceed  over  land  to  Tchikis- 
lar,  and  I  resolved  to  go  with  him.  We  were  accompanied 
by  a  dozen  horsemen  of  his  tribe,  for  it  was  rumoured 
that  Tekkes  who  had  fled  from  Geok  Tepe  were  roving 
over  the  plain.  We  found  an  immense  number  of  kibitkas 
in  groups  of  from  fifteen  to  twenty,   scattered  over  the 


SALT  PLAINS.  215 

plain  some  miles  east  of  Gumush  Tep6.  They  were  those 
of  Eastern  Turcomans,  who,  terrified  by  the  events  occur- 
ring in  the  Akhal  Tekke,  had  decided  to  move  well  within 
Persian  territory.  Refugees  were  continually  arriving, 
bringing  with  them  great  numbers  of  camels,  and  we 
saw  a  cavalcade  of  Turcoman  women,  dressed  in  bright 
scarlet  robes,  and  riding  in  curtained  horse-litters,  making 
the  best  of  their  way  westwards,  in  the  midst  of  their  tribes- 
men and  friends.  Within  ten  miles  of  the  top  of  the 
Atterek  delta,  the  point  at  which  we  were  to  pass,  we  came 
upon  a  vast  salt  expanse.  It  was  as  white  and  even  as  a 
new  snowfall,  and  I  could  only  with  difficulty  bring  myself 
to  believe  that  it  was  not  covered  with  snow.  Long  black 
tracks,  produced  by  the  passage  of  camels  and  horses, 
stretched  away  in  every  direction.  Not  a  blade  of  any  kind 
of  herbage  varied  the  monotony  of  this  ghastly  waste. 
During  my  subsequent  wanderings  in  the  plain,  I  never  met 
with  anything  so  remarkable  as  this  salt  expanse,  for  the 
existence  of  which  I  can  only  account  by  supposing  that  the 
waters  of  the  Hassan  Eouli  lagoon,  pressed  forward  by 
winds  from  the  west,  sometimes  overflow  the  ground,  and 
that  the  shallow  waters,  rapidly  evaporated  by  the  great 
heat  of  the  sun,  leave  this  deposit  behind  them.  We 
stopped  for  the  night  at  the  Turcoman  village  of  Atterek,  to 
which  I  have  had  occasion  to  refer  in  describing  my  journey 
from  Tchikislar  to  Asterabad.  We  were  very  hospitably 
received,  a  sheep  being  killed  for  our  entertainment ;  and 
before  daybreak  next  morning,  after  a  breakfast  of  hot, 
greasy  bread,  and  an  immense  quantity  of  sugarless  tea,  we 
pushed  forward,  reaching  Tchikislar  about  eleven  o'clock  in 
the  forenoon.  My  friend  the  Khan  had  formerly  com- 
manded a  troop  of  irregular  cavalry  in  the  Russian  service, 
composed  of  his  own  countrymen,  but  in  consequence  of 
some  backsliding  on  his  part  in  the  matter  of  pay  given 


2i6  EXPELLED  FROM  TCHIKISLAR. 

to  him  for  distribution  among  his  command,  he  had  been 
banished,  and  forbidden  to  return.  Hence  he  was  rather 
chary  about  making  his  appearance  among  the  Bussian 
lines — a  hesitation  which  was  apparently  very  well  justified, 
for  we  had  no  sooner  entered  the  camp  than  the  chief  of 
police  marched  up  to  us,  and  told  my  companion  that  the 
sooner  he  departed  from  its  limits  the  better  it  would  be 
for  him.  I  fared  no  better,  being  warned  that  my  presence 
was  not  desired,  and  we  were  both  given  until  the  morrow 
to  retrace  our  steps.  Seeing  that  there  was  little  or  no  stir 
in  the  place,  and  that  all  military  movements  were  for  the 
moment  at  an  end,  I  again  took  my  way  back  by  the  road  I 
had  come,  in  company  with  II  Geldi  and  his  following.  We 
arrived  at  our  starting-point  without  any  new  incident. 

Finding  that  there  was  a  constant  intercourse  between 
Gumush  Tepe  and  Tchikislar,  owing  to  the  continued  pass- 
ing and  repassing  of  luggers  with  hay  and  other  supplies, 
and  that  Armenian  dealers  frequently  passed  through  our 
village  with  a  view  of  purchasing  food  at  that  place,  to  be 
sold  by  them  at  second  hand  to  the  encamped  Russians, 
and  that  through  their  medium  I  might  be  constantly 
informed  as  to  the  movements  of  the  troops,  I  resolved  to 
make  a  lengthened  stay  with  old  Dourdi.     Here,  during  a 
residence  of  some  months,  I  had  ample  leisure  for  ob- 
serving the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Yamud   Turco- 
mans, and  as  I  shared  the   same  one-chambered  kibitka 
with  my  host,  his  wife,  his  niece,  and  a  young  child,  and 
participated  in  their  daily  life,  I  had  excellent  opportunities 
for  judging  of  Turcoman  domestic  life.     There  were  certain 
inconveniences  attendant  upon  this   gregarious   mode  of 
existence,  for  the  circular  chamber  was  but  fifteen  feet  in 
diameter,  and  some  member  of  the  family  was  always 
present.     Consequently,  when  one  wished  to  perform  his 
ablutions,   or  to  change    his  clothes,   he    was  generally 


RAIN  SHELTER.  217 

obliged  to  do  bo  in  the  dark,  or  under  cover  of  his  quilt,  after 
the  family  had  retired  to  rest.  Our  sole  bed  consisted  of  a 
thick  felt  carpet,  spread  upon  the  bare  earth,  our  bolsters 
were  of  enormous  dimensions,  and  our  bed-covering  was 
composed  of  a  stuffed  cotton  quilt,  and  did  not,  I  regret  to  say, 
bear  the  appearance  of  having  often  been  washed.  This, 
on  very  cold  nights,  I  supplemented  by  my  great  sheepskin 
overcoat ;  but  as  a  fire  generally  smouldered  on  the  hearth, 
towards  which  our  feet  were  directed,  we  passed  the  nights 
snugly  enough.  Still,  as  I  have  said,  two  hours  before 
sunrise  all  further  sleep  became  impossible  by  reason  of  the 
grinding  of  corn,  the  splitting  of  wood  with  a  hatchet,  the 
various  goings  to  and  fro  of  the  household,  and  the  stream 
of  visitors  who  were  sure  to  arrive  at  that  hour. 

These  Turcoman  aladjaks  are,  ordinarily,  perfectly 
weather-proof,  and,  on  the  whole,  fairly  comfortable  to  live 
in,  but  that  of  my  host  was  a  rather  patched  and  mended 
affair,  and  the  light  of  day  could  be  seen  through  more  than 
one  hole  in  the  felt  covering  the  exterior  of  its  domed  roof. 
One  night,  as  we  lay  asleep,  a  tremendous  downpour  of 
rain  set  in,  and  after  the  first  half-hour  the  water  dripped 
into  the  hissing  fire,  and  pattered  around  us  on  the  quilts. 
Dourdi  was  equal  to  the  occasion.  It  was  clearly  not  the 
first  time  he  had  been  confronted  with  the  situation.  He 
rose  quickly,  took  a  long  iron-shod  pole,  which  I  presumed 
to  be  some  kind  of  a  boat-hook,  and  fixed  one  end  of  it  in  the 
side  of  the  cdadjak  some  five  feet  from  the  ground.  The 
other  end  was  supported  by  a  loop  of  camel-hair  rope, 
which  descended  from  the  centre  of  the  roof  to  within  the 
same  distance  from  the  ground.  Hastily  unfolding  a  carpet 
of  large  dimensions,  he  placed  •  it  over  this  horizontally 
rigged  pole,  the  ends  resting  on  the  ground,  and  forming  a 
kind  of  tent  which  contained  all  the  sleepers.  Often  during 
my  stay  at  Gumush  Tep6, 1  have  passed  the  night  in  this 


3ia  ENZELI.— TRADE.- FISH-DR  YING. 

mistaking  the  nature  of  the  cannon  shots  after  that.  They 
were  fired  in  warning ;  and  so,  at  the  third  and  shotted 
discharge,  the  Persian  flag  was  hurriedly  lowered.  This 
regulation,  which  forbids  the  hoisting  of  the  '  Lion  and  Sun ' 
standard  on  the  Caspian,  is  very  humiliating  to  Persia, 
and  unfair  to  the  last  degree,  for  she  possesses  three  ports 
along  its  southern  shores — Gez,  Meshed-i-Ser,  and  Enzeli. 

Enzeli  is  but  a  very  inconsiderable  place,  owing  what- 
ever importance  it  possesses  to  being  a  station  where  the 
productions  of  Mazanderan  are  shipped  for  other  Caspian 
ports.  The  traders  are  principally  Armenians,  who  reside 
together  in  a  large  square  termed  the  Irmeni  Caravemerai. 
Here,  at  all  hours  of  the  day,  hemp,  silk,  cotton,  tobacco, 
and  grebe  skins  are  to  be  seen.  The  traffic  in  this  latter 
article  is  very  considerable,  large  quantities  being  exported 
annually  to  Europe  for  the  manufacture  of  ladies'  muffs, 
head-dresses,  and  other  female  attire.  They  are  bought  at 
Enzeli  for  a  franc  apiece,  and  bring,  I  am  told,  from  three 
to  four  in  the  European  markets. 

Not  far  from  the  mouth  of  the  Moredab,  on  its  eastern 
shore,  is  an  extensive  fishing  establishment,  the  property  of 
a  rich  Armenian  merchant.  Scores  of  fishing  boats  were 
at  anchor  discharging  their  cargoes  of  sefid  mahee  (the 
Caspian  carp)  at  the  landing-stage.  Eleven  hundred 
men  were  engaged  in  fishing,  cleaning  the  fish,  and 
opening,  salting,  and  drying  them.  The  products  of  this 
fishery  are  exported  in  immense  quantities  to  Russia,  and 
also  despatched  to  the  interior  of  Persia,  where  they  form 
an  important  part  of  the  dietary  of  the  poorer  classes.  A 
little  farther  to  the  north  of  this  fishing  station  is  a  dis- 
mantled battery,  the  guns  which  formerly  armed  it  now 
lying  on  the  ground  a  little  way  to  the  rear. 

The  Shah's  palace,  situated  on  the  western  shore  of  the 
entrance  to  the  Moredab,  is  a  singular-looking  edifice.    It 


THE  SHAtTS  SUMMER  PALACE.  313 

consists  of  an  octagonal  tower,  apparently  over  sixty  feet  in 
height,  about  thirty  in  diameter,  and  crowned  by  a  flattened 
conical  roof  of  red  tiles.    Inclusive  of  the  ground  floor  there 
are  five  stories,  each  surrounded  by  an  exterior  verandah- 
covered  balcony.     The  upper  story,  which  is  the  loftiest 
and  most  elaborately  decorated  of  all,  is  that  used  by  the 
Shah,  and  commands  an  extensive  view  over  the  neigh- 
bourhood.   I  am  told  that  he  considers  this  view  equal,  if 
not  of  superior  beauty,  to  any  which  he  has  seen  in  Europe, 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  it  consists  solely  of  an  un- 
broken prospect  of  fen  and  marsh,  and  the  uninteresting 
shore  and  leaden  grey  of  the  Caspian  waters.     The  balcony 
and  verandah  of  the  royal  chamber  are  decorated  with 
white  plaster  pillars  and  arches,  gaudily  painted,  and  net 
with  glittering  surfaces  of  looking  glass.     The  next  story 
under  it,  intended  for  the  accommodation  of  the   Shah's 
immediate  suite,  is  also  gaudily  decorated,  but  with  less  of 
the  looking-glass,  the  use  of  this  latter  being  apparently  a 
royal  prerogative.    Each  succeeding  lower  story  is  less  and 
less  brilliantly  painted,  the  ground-floor  being  very  shabby 
indeed.    Its  verandah  has  rude  wooden  pillars  coarsely 
daubed  with  red  paint,  and  the  walls  are  painted  with 
exceedingly  primitive  attempts    at  representing  modern 
Persian  soldiers.    The  palace  stands  in  a  garden  of  about  an 
acre  in  extent.    It  is  simply  a  grass-grown  expanse  planted 
with  orange  trees,  and  here  and  there  a  rose-bush  running 
wild.    To  protect  the  decoration  against  the  deleterious 
effects  of  the  moist  winds  blowing  over  the  Caspian,  the 
building  is  almost  entirely  wrapped  up  in  bass  matting, 
portions  of  its  southern  side  only  being  visible.    A  short 
way  off  are  the  remains  of  an  extensive  convent  of  dervishes, 
now  in  ruins.    It  is  of  red  brick,  and  the  massive  tower 
which  served  as  a  minaret  is  now  utilised  as  a  lighthouse. 
It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when,  in  company 


314  ACROSS  THE  MOREDAB. 

with  two  others,  an  English  engineer  and  an  Arm60**0 
the   same  profession,   both  proceeding  to  Teheran  ^' 
Harry  Churchill,  the  gholam,  and  myself,  went  on  b0*1 
large  launch  which  was  to  convey  us  across  the   Moredab, 
and  up  the  Piri-Bazaar  river.    For  some  time  we  rowed 
between  the  extremities  of  wooded  land  spits  jutting  out 
into  the  channel  leading  to  the  open  water.     Then  we 
rowed  out  into  the  wide  expanse  of  the  Moredab  itself. 
The  name  signifies  4  dead  water,'  and  a  drearier  expanse 
of  slumbering  surface  it  would  be  hard  to  meet  with.    Its 
shores  are  thickly  grown  with  giant  reeds  which  reach  far 
out  into  the  shallow  waters.  Islands,  reed-grown  too,  are  met 
with,  the  ground  raised  but  a  few  inches  above  the  surround- 
ing surface.    It  is  only  at  this  point  and  at  a  few  places 
between  it  and  Gez  that  Moore's  epithet  of  '  the  Caspian's 
reedy  banks '  at  all  holds  good ;  for  the  northern,  western, 
and  eastern  shores  are  remarkably  bare.     The  Moredab  at 
the  point  where  we  crossed  it  must  be  nigh  twelve  miles 
wide.      Its    length    from   east   to   west    is    considerably 
greater.    It  is  very  shallow,  and,  even  at  the  deepest  por- 
tions, it  was  possible  to  reach  bottom  with  one  of  the  queer 
long  shovel-shaped  oars  with  which  our  launch  was  pro- 
pelled.    Some  way  out  from  shore  a  light  breeze  sprang 
up ;  a  mast  was  stepped,  and  a  sail  of  surprisingly  large 
proportions  hoisted.    It  seemed,  in  view  of  its  tattered  con- 
dition, to  have  been  through  a  severe  naval  engagement. 
There  was  scarce  a  square  foot  of  it  which  was  not  perfor- 
ated with  holes,  some  of  them  as  large  as  if  made  by  a 
twenty-four  pounder  shot.     It  seemed  wonderful  how  it 
held  together,  much  more  how  it  stood  the  pressure  of  the 
breeze. 

Approaching  the  southern  shores  of  the  lagoon,  the  reed 
brakes  became  more  extensive,  and  the  reedy  islands  larger 
and  more  numerous,  in  fact,  separated  from  each  other 


PIRI-BAZAAR  RIVER.  3*3 

only  by  narrow  winding  canals  or  breadths  of  half-inundated 
marshy  ground  forming  the  delta  of  the  Piri-Bazaar  river, 
which  we  were  now  entering.  Far  away  to  the  westward, 
immense  flocks  of  water-fowl  covered  the  waters  or  hung 
above  them,  wheeling  and  shifting  like  a  storm-driven  cloud. 
Our  boat  glided  on  amid  the  reedy  solitudes,  where  the  silence 
was  broken  only  by  the  plashing  of  the  oars,  the  shrill  cry 
of  some  startled  sea  bird,  or  the  scream  of  the  fish-hawk. 
Then  we  entered  the  narrow  channel  of  the  river,  varying  in 
breadth  from  fifteen  to  twenty  paces,  the  banks  thickly 
covered  with  jungle  and  forest  growth.  The  surface  of  the 
water  was  thickly  strewn  with  the  inflated  swimming  bladders 
of  fish,  coming  from  the  curing  establishment  higher  up  the 
river.  Large  numbers  of  water  snakes,  too,  were  to  be 
seen  gliding  by  our  boat.  Great  black  '  snaggs  '  stuck  out 
from  the  water  like  marine  monsters  watching  for  their 
prey,  and  water-logged  tree  trunks  clung  among  the  roots 
projecting  into  the  sluggish  stream.  Once  we  were  well 
within  the  regular  river  channel,  the  crew,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  one  who  remained  to  steer,  got  out  on  the  right  bank, 
where  a  narrow  pathway  ran  close  to  the  edge  of  the  water, 
just  inside  the  tall  bushes  fringing  it.  A  towing  rope  was 
fastened  to  the  top  of  the  mast,  and  the  boat  was  thus ' 
drawn  along,  the  five  men  in  Indian  file  proceeding  at  a 
run.  The  rope  was  made  fast  to  the  top  of  the  mast,  so  as 
to  carry  it  clear  of  the  bushes.  Occasionally  we  met  other 
boats  similarly  dragged  along  and  proceeding  in  an  opposite 
direction  to  ours,  the  towers  following  the  same  path.  The 
towing-rope  of  the  boat  next  the  bank  was  slackened,  and 
that  of  the  one  passing  outside  was  jerked  over  the  top  of 
the  mast  of  the  first  with  a  movement  like  that  of  a  child's 
skipping-rope. 

It  was  six  in  the  afternoon  when  we  reached  Piri-Bazaar 
(the  old  man's  bazaar),  the  farthest  point  southward  to  which 


316    STURGEONS  AND  CAVIARE.- ROAD  TO  RESHT. 

boats  can  go,  as  there  is  a  fishing  weir  drawn  across  the 
stream  at  this  point.  Piri-Bazaar  consists  of  a  caravan- 
serai, a  few  dozen  houses,  and  the  fishing  station.  All 
goods  in  transitu  from  the  Caspian  to  Teheran  pass' through 
this  place.  The  little  animation  it  possesses  is  due  to  this 
traffic. 

If  I  can  trust  the  accuracy  of  the  information  I  received, 
the  capture  of  fish  at  the  weir  is  enormous,  fifty  thousand 
of  one  kind  or  another  being  the  amount  taken  daily.  The 
principal  fish  captured  at  the  weir  are  the  sefid  mahee  (carp) ; 
the  8ooff  the  somme  (four  feet  long) ;  the  salmon  and 
salmon  trout,  besides  the  sturgeon,  are  caught  in  the 
brackish  water  lower  down.  The  flesh  of  the  sturgeon  is  but 
little  used  save  by  the  poorer  classes — the  sterlet,  a  smaller 
species,  being  the  only  kind  usually  served  at  table,  and 
generally  used  only  for  making  soup.  The  sturgeon  taken 
here  measures  from  seven  to  nine  feet  long,  the  isinglass 
and  caviare  being  the  only  portions  utilised.  This  caviare,  so 
largely  consumed  in  Bussia,  is  called  by  the  Greeks  argo- 
tarako,  and  by  the  Italians  boutargne. 

At  Piri-Bazaar  there  are  always  riding  horses  and  carts 
for  the  conveyance  of  travellers  and  their  luggage  to  Resht, 
which  can  be  reached  in  an  hour  by  trotting  pretty  briskly. 
The  road,  which  is  only  of  recent  construction,  is  very  fair 
for  Persia.  For  a  long  time  it  had  been  forbidden  to  con- 
struct any,  lest  it  might  facilitate  a  Russian  advance  on  the 
capital.  During  the  last  Russo-Persian  war,  a  Russian 
expedition  tried  to  penetrate  from  Enzeli  to  Resht,  but 
owing  to  the  impassable  nature  of  the  intervening  forest, 
then  traversed  only  by  a  narrow  swampy  track,  after  the 
most  herculean  efforts  to  cut  its  road  through,  and  having 
been  decimated  by  fever,  it  was  obliged  to  retire. 

Clearings  have  been  made  in  the  woods,  and  a  good 
deal  of  cultivation  at  present  exists.    At  frequent  intervals 


SILK.— TOBACCO.— RESHT.  3i7 

odd-looking  structures  with  high-pitched  roofs,  the  eaves  pro* 
jecting  and  supported  by  wooden  props,  appear.  The  thatch- 
ing is  of  reeds  and  brambles  of  a  brown  colour,  the  whole 
resembling  a  very  pointed  haystack  supported  on  low 
pillars.  These  were  the  tUimbars  or  sheds  for  rearing  silk- 
worms. Silk  has  been  for  a  long  time  one  of  the  staple 
products  of  this  province  (Ghilan) ;  but,  unfortunately,  the 
prevalence  of  the  pebrine  and  flacheric  diseases,  which  during 
the  previous  five  or  six  years  wrought  sad  havoc  among  the 
worms,  reduced  the  production  of  silk  to  such  a  degree 
that  the  cultivators  were  ruined.  In  consequence  of  this 
blight,  a  memorial  was  forwarded  to  the  Shah  praying  for 
a  remission  of  taxes.  This  remission,  I  understand,  was 
granted ;  but  the  local  authorities  kept  on  the  screw  for 
their  own  private  benefit.  Since  this  decline  in  silk  pro- 
duction many  of  the  tilimbars  have  been  idle ;  tobacco  seed 
from  Samsoun  on  the  southern  Black  Sea  coast  was  sown, 
and  the  flourishing  crops  which  resulted  have  done  much 
to  restore  prosperity  to  the  district. 

Besht  itself  is  a  scattered  kind  of  place,  largely  composed 
of  two-story  houses  built  of  unbaked  brick,  and  roofed  with 
red  tile's.  The  minarets  of  the  two  mosques  are  of  quite  an 
unusual  style.  They  are  stout  towers  of  red  brick  tapering 
slightly,  and  crowned  with  flattened  cones  of  tiles,  the 
cones  projecting  so  much  as  to  give  the  structure  the 
appearance  of  an  overgrown  mushroom. 

The  climate  of  Besht  is  exceedingly  unwholesome  in 
summer,  owing  to  the  low-lying  nature  of  the  surrounding 
ground  and  its  swampy  character.  The  neighbouring  woods 
are  full  of  game,  especially  pheasants  and  partridges,  and 
wolves,  jackals,  lynxes,  and  hyaenas  are  to  be  found  in  the 
immediate  vicinity.  I  have  been  informed  that  tigers  of 
considerable  size  have  from  time  to  time  been  killed  at  no 
great  distance  from  the  town.     Owing  to  the  combined  heat 


3i8      MISGO  VERNMENT.— EXTORTION.— TORTURE. 

and  moisture  the  vegetation  around  the  place  is   redun- 
dant, flowers  blooming  all  the  year  round. 

What  little  commercial  activity  there  is  at  Besht  is  due 
to  the  business  carried  on  by  Armenian  and  Greek  mer- 
chants, and  the  firm  of  Ziegler  and  Go.  At  one  of  the 
Armenian  caravanserais  I  saw  very  large  quantities  of  raw 
silk  being  put  up  in  bales  for  exportation  to  Marseilles,  over 
one  hundred  large  bales  at  least.  When,  during  the  great 
depression  in  this  particular  trade,  owing  to  the  malady 
prevailing  among  the  worms,  the  quantity  thus  sent  off  at 
one  shipment  by  a  single  house  was  so  very  considerable,  I 
could  well  imagine  what  the  aggregate  amount  in  favourable 
years  must  have  been. 

During  the  three  days  I  remained  at  Besht  I  heard  sad 
tales  of  misgovernment  and  extortion  on  the  part  of  the 
local  authorities.    There  seemed  to  be  no  regular  system 
of  taxation,  the  governor  paying  a  certain  amount  to  the 
Shah  annually,  and  having  delegated  to  him  apparently 
unlimited  power  to  squeeze  as  much  as  possible  from  the 
native  merchants  and  peasantry.    I  was  informed  on  un- 
questionable authority  that  a  very  short  time  previous  to  my 
arrival  a  trader  had  been  imprisoned  and  buried  up  to  his 
neck  in  the  floor  of  his  dungeon.    Ice  was  kept  constantly 
applied  to  his  head  to  torture  him,  with  a  view  of  forcing 
from  him  a  large  sum  of  money.    He   stood  this  cruel 
punishment  so  long  without  yielding,  that  the  stock  of  ice 
in  the  town  was  quite  expended,  and  the  governor  was  forced 
to  adopt  a  new  system  of  torture  through  sheer  incapacity 
to  continue  the  old  one.     The  evildoer  himself  was,  however, 
not  entirely  exempt  from  the  ills  of  life,  for  he  had  married 
a  princess  of  the  Shah's  family,  and  whenever  he  displeased 
his  spouse,  the  lady,  by  virtue  of  her  royal  descent,  had 
him  soundly  bastinadoed  by  his  own  servants. 


STARTING  FOR  TEHERAN.  319 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

m 

BESHT  TO    TEHERAN. 

Posting  in  Persia — Solid-Rood — Mountain  roads— Rustamabad — Olive  groves 
— Rood  Bar — Mengil — Travelling  in  the  dark — Stormy  glen— Mare  Antony 
and  the  snakes — Shah  Rood — Corpse  caravan— Starved  post-horses — Pood 
Chenar — A  deserted  post-house — Kurd  encampment — Pass  of  Kharzon — 
Kurds  on  the  march — Funeral  rites — Imam  ZadA — Masrah — The  garrib-gez 
— Miana — A  Persian  remedy — An  appeal  to  the  Shah — Fortified  villages 
— Kanots — Kazvin — Persian  tombstones — Hotel — Enamelled  tiles — A 
good  postmaster — A  contrast — A  breakdown — Good  ponies — Mounds  and 
villages— Count  de  Monteforte— Approaching  Teheran— Gates  and  forti- 
fications. 

As  yet  post-horses  are  the  only  means  of  rapid  travelling 
in  Persia.  When  a  postal  service  of  the  kind  is  well  con- 
ducted one  can  get  along  pretty  well,  but  when,  as  in  that 
country,  the  utmost  mismanagement  prevails,  travelling 
post  is  the  most  exquisite  torture  it  is  possible  to  conceive. 
It  was  close  on  mid-day  before  I  was  able  to  get  away  from 
Besht,  mounted  on  a  very  fair  horse.  I  was  accompanied 
by  Mr.  Harry  Churchill,  son  of  the  Asterabad  consul.  We 
had  with  us  a  gholam,  or  courier,  belonging  to  the  British 
Legation  at  Teheran,  and  the  usual  postman  to  take  back 
the  horses.  For  the  first  ten  miles  the  road  was  level  and 
good,  skirted  on  either  side  by  wooded  hills  of  inconsiderable 
elevation,  separated  from  us  by  level  tracts  of  well-cultivated 
ground  and  stretches  of  luxuriant  woodland*  Streams  of 
water  continually  crossed  the  road,  as  the  irrigation  canals 
were  led  from  one  field  to  another.  With  such  a  constant 
water  supply  from  the  Elburz  chain,  and  such  unfailing 


320  THE  SEFID-ROOD.—A  BAD  ROAD. 

sunshine,  the  province  of  Ghflan  should  be  one  of  the 
richest  in  the  world.  For  the  first  two  hours  one  might 
imagine  himself  riding  through  some  rural  lane  in  Western 
Europe.  Then  the  road  began  to  ascend  a  somewhat 
steep  hill,  parts  of  which  were  rugged  in  the  extreme,  and 
we  found  ourselves  proceeding  along  the  brink  of  an  awk- 
ward earth  cliff  overhanging  the  magnificent  Sefid-Bood 
river. 

At  this  point  the  stream  is  nearly  a  mile  wide — a  vast 
expanse  of  surging  yellow  waters,  broken  by  islets  and  sand 
banks,  and  bearing  along  tree  trunks  and  accumulations  of 
bushes  torn  from  its  banks.    To  the  eastward,  tall  scarped 
mountains  descend  to  the  water's  edge.    As  soon  as  the 
road  begins  to  ascend  it  becomes  simply  execrable.    Long 
stretches  of  pavement  occur,  which,  owing  to  the  springs 
which  trickle  across  them,  are  reduced  to  accumulations 
of  loose  stones  and  deep  muddy  gashes,  over  which  a  horse 
can  make  his  way  but  slowly.    For  twenty  miles  we  were 
in  constant  fear  that  our  horses  would  fall  upon  the  step- 
like strata,  which  at  some  points  resemble  more  a  steep 
flight  of  stairs  than  what  we  are  accustomed  to  consider  a 
post  road.    It  was  well  that  our  horses  were  pretty  strong 
and  well  fed,  or  we  should  never  have  got  over  some  of  the 
very  bad  places.    As  it  was,  the  animals  were  only  able 
to  make  ten  steps  at  a  time,  halting  for  half  a  minute  be- 
fore they  could  climb  as  much  more.    More  than  once  I 
dismounted  and  toiled  up  the  ascent  on  foot,  for  it  seemed 
little  short  of  barbarity  to  ride  a  horse  up  such  an  incline. 
What  the  engineers  of  the  road  were  thinking  of  when  they 
planned  it,  I  cannot  imagine.    It  ascends  and  descends  in 
the  most  capricious  manner,  when  with  less  labour  it  might 
just  as  well  have  been  constructed  at  a  regular  level  along 
the  hill  slopes  over  which  it  has  been  cut — principally  by 
blasting,  as  the  drill  holes  in  the  rocks  indicate.    At  one 


A  RIDE  IN  THE  DARK.— OLIVE  GROVES.         321 

very  difficult  spot  we  passed  three  European  carriages,  each 
being  dragged  by  a  dozen  men,  and  which,  to  judge  by  the 
rate  of  progress  they  were  making,  would  probably  take  at 
least  a  month  to  get  to  Teheran. 

After  a  weary  journey  of  twenty-four  miles  we  reached 
the  first  station  at  a  place  called  Koudoum,  where  we 
changed  horses,  receiving  animals  which  looked  just  as 
tired  and  worn  as  those  we  had  given  up.  With  these  we 
scrambled  along  for  another  twenty  miles  to  Eustamabad, 
a  dreary-looking  mud  caravanserai,  the  only  habitation 
within  sight  for  miles  around.  The  mountains,  which  had 
hitherto  been  densely  wooded  and  verdant,  now  became 
bare  and  arid,  the  bright  red  and  orange  tinting  of  the 
cliffs  and  slopes  indicating  the  presence  of  iron.  From 
Eustamabad  the  road  was,  if  possible,  worse  and  more 
precipitous  than  before ;  and  the  rapid  closing  in  of  night 
did  not  tend  to  smooth  our  difficulties.  It  was  pitch  dark 
as  we  ascended  and  descended  horrid  inclines  along  the 
edge  of  yawning  abysses,  which,  perhaps  luckily,  we  could 
but  indistinctly  discern,  and  to  which,  from  far  below,  came 
the  dull  plashing  roar  of  the  Sefid  Eood.  Then  the  road 
became  a  little  more  practicable,  and  we  descended  into  a 
valley  thickly  overgrown  with  very  large  olive  trees-in 
some  places  forming  dense  thickets.  Here  and  there 
glimmering  lights  were  visible,  and  we  could  just  distinguish 
the  outline  of  some  low  mud  houses.  We  had  arrived  at 
the  commencement  of  a  long  straggling  village,  Eood  Bar 
by  name,  which  stretches  along  the  banks  of  the  Sefid 
Eood  river  for  a  distance  of  at  least  three  miles.  It  .was 
half-past  nine  at  night  before  we  reached  the  further  end, 
where  some  dozen  buildings,  gathered  into  a  kind  of  street, 
constituted  the  bazaar.  Lights  were  still  burning  in  a  few 
of  the  houses,  and  we  at  length  found  lodgings  in  a  small 
shop  kept  by  an  Armenian.    The  rough  boarded  floor  was 

vol.  x.  Y 


3aa  DANGEROUS  RIDING.— A  CURIOUS  PHENOMENON. 

our  bed,  our  saddles  were  our  pillows,  our  overcoats  the 
only  covering  available ;  but  after  sixty-four  miles  of  hard 
riding  one  is  easily  contented  with  any  place  of  rest.  The 
regular  postal  station  was  two  or  three  hours  further  on, 
but  under  the  circumstances  it  was  impossible  to  go  any 
further  that  night.  We  started  at  three  o'clock  the  following 
morning.  The  road  was  again  very  bad,  especially  that 
portion  of  it  which  we  were  obliged  to  traverse  before  the  light 
of  dawn  appeared.  No  pains  whatever  seemed  to  have  been 
taken  to  improve  the  rough  track  worn  among  broken, 
shelving  strata  by  the  camel  and  horse  traffic  of  past  ages. 
Travelling  over  such  a  road  in  the  dark  is  most  trying  to 
the  nerves.  The  horses,  endeavouring  to  scramble  up  or 
down  the  steep  ascents,  many  of  them  having  an  incline  of 
forty-five  degrees,  slipped  and  stumbled  at  every  step.  The 
faintly-seen  rocks  seemed  swimming  around  in  the  gloom. 
The  horseman  suddenly  finds  himself  girth-deep  in  a  torrent 
of  whose  existence  he  only  becomes  aware  by  the  flash  and 
roar  of  the  waters.  Huge  spectral  cliff-faces  loomed  in  the 
faint  dawn-light,  and  the  white  expanse  of  the  surging  river 
gleamed  out,  far  down  the  precipice  on  the  verge  of  which 
the  road  wound.  No  barrier  of  any  kind  existed  to  prevent 
man  or  beast  from  going  over  the  edge.  Someone  has  re- 
marked that  the  roads  of  a  country  are  the  truest  indices 
of  its  civilisation.  If  this  be  true,  Persia  must  be  backward 
indeed. 

Just  as  the  sun  was  rising  we  arrived  at  a  long  stone 
bridge  spanning  the  Sefid  Rood,  and  had  an  opportunity  of 
witnessing  a  curious  phenomenon  peculiar  to  the  place. 
At  the  moment  the  sun  shows  above  the  horizon  a  violent 
wind  commences  to  blow,  continuing  without  interruption 
till  evening.  This  wind  blows  at  all  seasons,  and  is  some- 
times so  violent  as  to  render  crossing  the  bridge  dangerous, 
especially  for  laden  camels,  the  great  surface  exposed  to 


VIPERS.— A   GHASTLY  BURDEN.  323 

the  action  of  the  wind  sometimes  causing  the  animals  to 
be  blown  over  the  parapet  into  the  torrent.     This  portion 
of  the  valley  bears  the  name  of  Mengil,  and  is  remarkable 
for  the  great  number  of  venomous  serpents  by  which  it  is 
infested.    When  the  Eoman  army,  led  by  Marc  Antony, 
camq  here,  the  camp  had  to  be  moved  from  the  valley  on 
account  of  the  great  quantity  of  vipers.1    I  recollect  an 
occurrence  similar  to  this  during  the  late  campaign  in 
Armenia,  when  a  Bussian  detachment,  camped  among  the 
ruins  of  the  ancient  town  of  Ani,  were  obliged  to  strike 
their  tents  and  move  some  distance  off  because  of  the  large 
numbers  of  serpents.    A  short  distance  above  the  bridge  of 
Mengil  the  Shah  Rood  falls  into  the  Sefid  Bood,   which 
latter  stream,  above  the  point  of  junction,  is  called  by 
a  different  name.    A  short  distance  outside  the  town,  or 
rather  village,  of  Mengil,  I  came  up  with  a  small  caravan 
going  in  the  direction  of  Teheran.    For  some  time  I  had 
been  noticing  a  most  unpleasant  odour,  which  I  was  at  a 
loss  to  account  for.     So  strong  was  it  that  I  supposed  that 
a  number  of  camels  or  horses  must  be  lying  rotting  in  my 
vicinity ;  and  I  urged  my  horse  rapidly  forward  to  get  clear 
of  the  stench.     However,  the   further  I  pushed  on,   the 
stronger  became  the  smell,  and  I  was  quite  at  my  wit's  end 
to  account  for  its  persistency,  when  a  glance  at  one  of  the 
caravan  conductors  gave  me  an  inkling  as  to  whence  it 
proceeded.     The  man  was  trudging  along  behind  a  small 
grey  ass.     He  looked  deadly  pale,  and  his  mouth  and  the 
entire  lower  part  of  his  face  were  wrapped  in  a  large  cloth. 
On  the  ass's  back  was  an  oblong  white  case,  which  I  at  once 
recognised  as  a  coffin ;  especially  when,  on  nearing  it,  the 
stench  became  overpowering.    It  was  a  caravan  carrying 
dead  bodies  to  be  interred  at  Kerbella  in  holy  ground.     The 

1  I  give  this  on  the  authority  of  H.M.  the  Shah,  who  makes  the  statement 
in  his  published  diary  of  a  voyage  to  Europe. 

T  2 


324  POOD  CHENAR. 

driver  of  the  ass  had  swathed  his  mouth  and  nose  with 
cloths  to  avoid  the  pestilential  effluvia  emanating  from  the 
putrid  corpse  which  his  ass  was  carrying.  He  had  heen 
several  days  on  the  march,  and  I  am  not  surprised  that  he 
looked  sick  and  pale,  considering  the  atmosphere  which  he 
breathed.  I  understand  that  Government  orders  have 
been  issued  prohibiting  this  system  of  corpse  caravans ; 
but  though  the  traffic  is  much  diminished,  it  still  exists  to 
a  certain  extent.  I  galloped  briskly  on  to  get  out  of  the 
unwholesome  neighbourhood,  and  soon  reached  the  station 
of  Mengil.  Here  a  considerable  delay  occurred  in  procuring 
post  horses,  and,  when  they  were  forthcoming,  they  were 
of  the  most  miserable  description,  apart  from  which  they 
looked  as  if  they  had  been  starved  for  a  week. 

Pushing  forward  as  rapidly  as  possible,  we  followed  the 
right  bank  of  the  Shah  Rood,  the  road  sometimes  descend- 
ing into  the  swampy  river  marge.  After  seven  hours'  riding 
we  reached  the  station  of  Pood  Chenar  (the  foot  of  the 
plane-tree),  where  we  saw  a  choice  specimen  of  the  manner 
in  which  things  are  managed  on  this  postal  line.  Pood 
Chenar  consists  of  two  buildings,  one  a  kind  of  caravanserai, 
built  of  mud  and  unbaked  bricks ;  the  other,  a  posting 
station  built  in  the  same  manner.  The  country  across 
which  we  travelled  was  mountainous  and  barren.  Bleak, 
bare  rounded  hills  girded  our  path,  all  striped  orange  and 
green  with  metallic  deposits.  Not  a  human  being  was  to 
be  seen,  and  the  two  buildings,  so  far  as  their  loneliness 
was  concerned,  might  have  been  a  pair  of  enchanted  castles. 
We  toiled  up  a  steep  ascent,  and  arrived  before  a  high 
*  arched  doorway,  the  double  doors  of  which  lay  wide  open. 
No  groom  or  ostler  came  to  meet  us.  We  called  and 
shouted  ;  we  entered,  and  searched  every  nook  and  cranny 
of  the  building.  Neither  horses  nor  men  were  to  be  found. 
Our  horses,  after  seven  hours'  rapid  ride  over  difficult 


NO  HORSES.— A  KURD  ENCAMPMENT.  325 

ground,  were  falling  with  fatigue.  We  went  up  to  the 
caravanserai,  and  there  learned  that  the  postal  employes 
were  *  gone  away/  and  that  there  were  no  horses.  Here 
was  a  predicament,  inasmuch  as  I  was  in  a  desperate  hurry, 
and  had  already  lost  much  time.  Nothing  remained  but 
to  halt  for  a  couple  of  hours  to  let  our  poor  worn-out 
animals  repose,  and  to  give  them  some  food,  of  which  they 
were  evidently  much  in  need.  We  had  to  pay  for  this  food, 
as  there  were  no  Government  officials  to  be  found.  While 
waiting  for  our  tired  steeds  to  recover,  we  sat  in  the  scanty 
shade  of  a  thinly-leafed  plane-tree,  and  had  breakfast. 
Not  far  away  was  a  Kurd  encampment,  which  hitherto  had 
not  been  visible,  hidden,  as  it  was,  behind  a  hill  shoulder. 
The  Kurd  tents  were  peculiar.  I  had  previously  seen  them 
on  the  mountains  between  Ears  and  Erzeroum.  The  walls, 
about  four  and  a  half  feet  in  height,  are  composed  of  reed 
mats ;  the  reeds  are  placed  vertically,  close  together,  and 
connected  by  four  threads  of  camel  hair,  intertwined  hori- 
zontally with  the  reeds  at  regular  intervals.  The  roof 
consists  of  a  single  web  of  blackish  brown  camel-hair  tissue, 
supported  on  internal  poles  some  six  feet  high,  the  edges  not 
meeting  the  vertical  reed  matting,  but  leaving  a  space  of  six 
inches  in  width  intervening  for  light  and  air.  The  tents  look 
exceedingly  neat  and  comfortable,  much  more  so  than  the 
heavier  Turcoman  kibitkas,  among  which  I  had  been  so 
long  sojourning.  The  old  Kurd  elders  came  out  of  their 
Camp  to  see  the  Ferenghi,  and  were  most  kind  in  looking 
after  some  of  our  horses  which  had  run  away.  Had  the 
road  in  any  way  approximated  to  a  level  one  I  should  not 
have  been  so  much  troubled,  worn  though  the  poor  beasts 
were  after  their  long  and  quick  ride.  But,  unfortunately, 
we  had  to  face  the  worst  portion  of  the  entire  road,  the 
tremendous  pass  of  Eharzon,  across  the  steepest  part  of 
the  Elbruz  mountains  by  which  the  transit  is  possible. 


326        KURDS  MOVING.— THE  KHARZON  PASS. 

There  was  no  help  for  it,  so  we  rode  away  towards  the 
entrance.  In  the  valley  we  had  to  ford  a  rather  violent 
torrent,  fortunately  not  deep,  and  we  were  rewarded  for 
our  pains  by  a  curious  sight— the  moving  of  a  Kurd  en- 
campment. These  nomads  acknowledge  but  a  very  slight 
allegiance  to  the  central  Government,  and  pay  still  slighter 
taxes.  The  women  seemed  to  do  all  the  work.  The  men 
rode  on  tranquilly — that  is  to  say,  the  men  who  had  horses, 
for  I  noticed  that  horses  were  scarce  among  them.  The 
beasts  of  burden  were  small  black  cows,  upon  whose  backs 
were  strapped  all  the  paraphernalia  of  the  camp.  The  reed 
tent-walls  were  rolled  together  with  the  black  camel-hair 
roofs,  and  on  these,  packed  on  the  cows'  backs,  was  perched 
a  miscellaneous  collection  of  poultry,  evidently  well  accus- 
tomed to  such  proceedings.  An  occasional  cat  was  also  to  be 
seen,  seated  contentedly  among  the  fowls.  A  few  men  rode 
to  and  fro,  directing  the  cortege*  They  were,  as  a  rule,  of  low 
stature,  and  far  different  in  appearance  from  the  wild 
horsemen  whom  I  had  left  behind  me  on  the  Turcoman  plains. 
Each  step  brought  us  nearer  to  the  tremendous  Eharzon 
pass.  To  describe  its  passage  would  be  only  to  multiply 
tenfold  what  I  have  already  written  about  break-neck  roads 
and  dangerous  precipices.  We  passed  many  Ejird  camps, 
and  at  one  witnessed  funeral  rites  exactly  like  those  of  the 
Turcomans.  Towards  the  higher  portions  of  the  pass, 
which  I  believe  are  about  twelve  thousand  feet  above  the 
sea,  was  an  Imam  Zade,  or  burial-place  of  a  saint.  Each 
person  who  passed  felt  bound  to  place  one  stone  on  another 
in  token  of  reverence.  The  road  was  lined  with  pyramids 
of  stone  fragments  contributed  by  the  pious  during  past 
centuries.  After  having  been  forced  to  dismount  a  dozen 
times,  sometimes  beyond  our  knees  in  gravelly  mud,  we  at 
length,  after  twelve  hours'  riding  on  the  same  poor  horses, 
got  to  the  village  of  Masrah,  in  the  plain  which  reaches 


MASRAH.—THE  GARRIB-GEZ.  327 

away  by  Kasvin  to  Teheran.  This  village  is  not  without 
interest,  though  it  is  but  a  poor  place — consisting  of  little 
more  than  fifty  square-topped  huts  huddled  within  the 
limits  of  a  mud  loop-holed  wall  with  flanking  towers.  The 
interest  attaching  to  the  village  is  altogether  an  entomological 
one.  When  starting  from  Besht  I  had  received  many 
warnings  from  experts  to  look  out  for  an  exceedingly  venom- 
ous insect  which  infests  this  neighbourhood.  Strange  to 
say,  this  place  alone  of  all  the  entire  district  is  so  infested. 
I  enter  into  details  on  the  subject,  as  it  is  one  which  cannot 
fail  to  interest  naturalists.  I  had  been  warned,  on  the  peril 
of  my  life,  not  to  sleep  at  Masrah,  because  there  was  to  be 
found  the  garrib-gez  (literally,  '  bite  the  stranger ').  The 
effect  of  the  bite  was  described  to  me  as  being  on  the  whole 
much  worse  than  that  of  the  black  scorpion.  Our  horses 
could  carry  us  no  further,  and,  nathless  the  dread  which  I 
had  of  these  creatures,  I  was  obliged  to  make  a  halt  of  half 
an  hour  at  the  station. 

One  of  the  first  questions  which  I  asked  of  the  stable 
attendants  was  whether  they  could  show  me  a  specimen  of 
the  '  bite  the  stranger.'  After  a  few  minutes'  search,  the 
man  brought  me  out  half-a-dozen  in  the  palm  of  his  hand. 
The  largest  was  not  over  the  third  of  an  inch  in  length,  and 
resembled  in  form  what  is  vulgarly  known  in  England  as 
the  '  sheep-tick.'  It  was  of  a  silvery  grey  appearance,  and 
had,  as  I  carefully  remarked,  eight  legs,  four  on  each  side. 
I  should  at  once  have  set  it  down  as  one  of  the  arachnoid  or 
spider  family  were  it  not  for  the  entire  absence  of  the  dual 
division  of  cephalothorax  and  abdomen  which  distinguishes 
that  class.  Notwithstanding  this,  it  may,  and  probably 
does,  belong  to  the  family  in  question.  Its  sting  is  produc- 
tive of  the  worst  results.  A  small  red  point  like  that  pro- 
duced by  the  ordinary  flea  is  at  first  seen.  Then  follows  a 
large  black   spot,  which  subsequently  suppurates,  accom- 


328  GARRIB-GEZ. 

parried  by  a  high  fever,  identical,  as  far  as  external  symp- 
toms go,  with  intermittent  fever.  In  this  it  is  like  the  bite 
of  the  tarantula  or  phalange  of  the  Turcoman  plains.  The 
only  difference  is,  that  the  fever  produced  by  the  sting  of 
this  insect,  known  scientifically  as  the  arga  Persica,  and 
locally  as  the  garrib-gez  and  Genne,  if  neglected  for  any 
length  of  time,  is  fatal.  It  is  accompanied  by  lassitude, 
loss  of  appetite,  and  in  some  cases  delirium.  I  have  seen  it 
mentioned  in  an  old  French  book,  which  gives  an  account 
of  the  French  Embassy  to  Teheran  of  1806-7 ;  but  the 
writer  had  no  personal  experiences  to  relate.  He  called  it 
the  mouche  de  Miane.  Miana  is  a  village  on  the  same 
stream  as  Masrah,  and  is  well  known  as  one  of  the  habitats 
of  this  pestilential  insect.  It  is  styled  by  the  inhabitants,  as 
at  the  other  places  in  which  it  obtains,  the  '  bite  the  stranger,' 
for  the  people  of  the  locality  never  experience  any  inconve- 
nience from  its  sting.  There  is  a  general  belief  that,  when 
once  a  person  has  been  stung,  the  '  Persian  bug  *  is  harmless 
against  the  same  individual,  and  this  seems  to  be  borne  out 
by  fact;  for  the  people  living  in  the  village  of  Masrah 
laughed  at  my  fears  as  I  carefully  perched  myself  on  the 
top  of  a  rock  with  a  view  of  keeping  out  of  the  way  of  the 
local  bugs  while  they  held  them  with  impunity  within  the 
palms  of  their  hands.  Some  Austrian  officers  going  to 
Teheran  in  1879,  happening  to  stay  at  this  hamlet  of 
Masrah,  were  stung  by  the  garrib-gez.  All  of  them  fell  ill, 
and  one  narrowly  escaped  with  his  life.  Numerous  cases  of 
death  can  be  cited  as  the  result  of  the  sting  of  the  arga 
Persica.  A  Persian  medical  man  informed  me  that  it  was 
the  custom,  when  any  important  personage  was  travelling 
through  a  district  infested  by  these  insects,  for  his  attend- 
ants to  administer  to  him  without  his  knowledge  one  of 
the  '  bugs/  during  the  early  morning,  concealed  in  a  piece 
of  bread.     The  sting  acts  as  a  kind  of  inoculation,   and 


TREA  TMENT  OF  BITE.  329 

the  local  physicians  believe  that  the  poison,  taken 
through  the  stomach,  is  administered  with  equally  good 
effect  as  if  received  directly  into  the  circulation.  A 
leading  European  member  of  Teheran  society  told  me 
that  he  had  simultaneously  received  seventy-three  stings 
from  these  insects,  the  bites  having  been  counted  by 
his  servants.  The  result  was  an  extreme  amount  of  fever, 
winding  up  with  delirium  on  the  fifth  day.  Violent  emetics, 
followed  by  doses  of  quinine,  were  given  without  effect ; 
and  it  was  only  after  taking  large  quantities  of  tannin,  in 
the  form  of  a  decoction  of  the  rind  of  the  wild  pomegranate, 
that  the  patient  recovered.  For  a  great  part  of  my  informa- 
tion on  this  subject  I  have  to  thank  Mr.  Sydney  Churchill, 
of  Teheran,  a  young  and  rising  naturalist,  who  has  devoted 
much  of  his  time  and  talent  to  the  entomology  of  Persia.  I 
need  scarcely  say  that,  finding  myself  in  contact  with  this 
abominable  '  Persian  bug,'  I  was  in  a  feverish  hurry  to  get 
out  of  its  dominions ;  and  more  than  one  severe  objurgation 
rose  to  my  lips  before  the  half-hour's  chase  after  several 
stag-like  horses  on  the  hill-slope  was  completed. 

I  was  contemplating  in  a  melancholy  mood  the  skeletons 
of  seven  horses  lying  close  by,  without  doubt  the  victims  of 
overwork  and  little  food,  when  our  new  steeds  were  driven 
in  from  pasture  on  a  bleak  mountain  side,  to  commence  a 
run  of  twenty  miles  at  post  speed.  I  make  express  mention 
of  this,  in  order  that  it  may,  if  possible,  reach  the  Shah's 
ears  indirectly;  and  that,  if  he  have  not  pity  on  the 
travellers  who  come  to  visit  his  capital  from  the  Caspian,  he 
will  cherish  some  feeling  for  the  poor  half-starved  brutes 
that  are  ridden  over  the  hills  of  which  he  is  sovereign.  I 
write  this  advisedly,  for  I  have  reason  to  know  that  he  is 
most  anxious  that  the  affairs  of  his -kingdom  should  be 
properly  conducted ;  but,  unfortunately,  he  is  dependent  for 
information  on  those  whose  interest  it  is  not  to  tell  him  the 


33°  DOWN  TO  THE  PLAINS. 

truth.  I  hope  that,  should  these  lines  ever  meet  his  eyes,  he 
will  give  me  credit  for  the  intention  with  which  they  were 
written. 

Descending  from  the  mountains,  a  vast  plain  opens  out 
to  the  view.  Sparsely-sprinkled  gardens,  with  their  tall 
poplars  and  densely-leaved  chenars,  tremble  in  the  mirage 
like  wooded  islands  in  a  tranquil  sea.  The  proximity  to 
the  dangerous  Turcoman  frontier,  notwithstanding  the 
intervening  range  of  the  Elburz,  across  which  I  had  just 
ridden,  was  marked  by  fortified  villages  and  caravanserais. 
Each  was  a  fortress  in  itself — a  square  of  from  a  hundred 
to  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  on  each  side,  protected  by  high 
embattled  walls  of  unbaked  brick,  with  flanking  towers 
fifteen  feet  high  at  intervals  of  forty  yards.  The  gateway 
of  each  stronghold  was  a  little  fort  in  itself,  and  Biblical 
descriptions  came  forcibly  to  my  mind  as  we  saw  the  white- 
robed  elders  (smoking  their  water-pipes)  seated  on  either 
side  the  entry  with  a  more  than  patriarchal  solemnity,  the 
attendants  in  robes  of  Oriental  brilliancy,  raising  their  heads 
to  stare  at  the  unholy  Giaours  dashing  by  as  quickly  as 
their  poor  weary,  sore-backed  steeds  would  permit.  In 
riding  over  this  plain  I  discovered  the  solution  of  a  problem 
which  had  often  puzzled  me.  I  had  seen  small  earth 
mounds  ranged  in  a  symmetrical  row  reaching  for  miles  and 
miles.  I  now  discovered  that  they  were  composed  of  the 
earth  thrown  up  from  numerous  shafts  during  the  construc- 
tion of  what  are  called  kanots,  or  underground  watercourses, 
leading  from  the  mountains  to  the  plain  below.  From  the 
Elburz  range  to  Teheran  vegetable  life  is  artificially  sus- 
tained on  the  bleak  internal  Steppes  by  means  of  these 
subterranean  watercourses.  Putting  our  horses  to  a  gallop, 
we  were  soon  sweeping  by  the  scanty  vineyards  that  surround 
Kasvin,  and  the  yellow,  turreted  walls  of  that  town  came 
into  view. 


KASV1N.  33* 

Kasvin,  the  birthplace  of  the  Sage  Lockman,  and  for  a  brief 
space  the  capital  of  Persia,  is  a  very  considerable  town,  and 
destined,  when  the  projected  railroad  from  Besht  to  Teheran 
shall  have  been  completed,  to  play  an  important  rdle  in  the 
history  of  the  country.  '  Seen  from  the  midst  of  the  vineyards 
and  pistache  plantations  which  surround  it,  it  presents  an 
eminently  picturesque  appearance,  with  its  brightly  gleaming 
cupolas  and  towers  glinting  beyond  the  chenar  groves  which 
surround  its  walls.  The  gate  by  which  I  entered,  pierced 
in  its  western  fortifications,  is  guarded  by  the  usual  towers 
of  unbaked  brick,  plastered  over  with  yellowish  brown 
clay.  Just  outside  it,  and  reaching  up  to  the  edge  of  the 
now  dry  ditch,  is  an  extensive  cemetery,  remarkable  for 
its  tombstones,  which  lie  flat  upon  the  graves,  being  in  this 
totally  unlike  the  standing  '  turban  stones  '  of  the  Ottoman 
Turks.  In  the  midst  of  each  is  inserted  a  piece  of  white 
alabaster,  a  couple  of  feet  long,  in  the  form  of  a  heraldic 
shield,  bearing  a  raised  inscription  and  the  representation 
of  a  long  spouted  jug  like  a  coffee-pot  and  some  cups  and 
tumblers.  This  may  have  some  connection  with  the  custom 
of  the  Turcoman  nomads  of  placing  these  articles  on  the 
graves. 

The  afternoon  sun  was  intensely  hot  as  I  rode  along 
between  the  blank  staring  mud  walls  which  rose  on  either 
side  of  the  street,  almost  deserted  at  that  hour  of  the  day. 
A  few  people- were  lazily  lounging  in  some  barbers'  shops, 
or  stretched  out  at  full  length  asleep  upon  the  ground  in  the 
narrow  shade  of  the  houses.  Several  kanots  traverse  the  town, 
and  the  vertical  shafts  constructed  when  excavating  them 
lie  most  reprehensibly  open  in  the  midst  of  the  thorough- 
fares. A  horseman  or  pedestrian  traversing  the  streets 
after  dark  would  infallibly  come  to  grief.  Kasvin  affords 
on  every  side  evidences  of  its  past  greatness,  and  signs  of 
growing    importance    mingle    with    the    older    traces   of 


332  HOTEL.— ARCHITECTURE. 

prosperity.  Mosques  and  towers,  their  roofs  covered  with 
glazed  blue  tiles,  rose  on  every  side,  and  I  much  regretted 
not  having  sufficient  time  at  my  disposal  to  visit  them. 
The  postal  establishment  would  do  credit  to  a  first- 
class  European  town.  It  includes  a  large  hotel,  with 
arched  portico  supported  on  massive  pillars  of  whitewashed 
brick.  The  rooms  are  spacious  and  airy,  and  floored  with 
large,  square,  glazed  tiles.  This  hotel  cannot  fail  to  be  a 
paying  speculation  when  once  the  Resht-Teheran  Railway 
line  is  established.  The  principal  town  gates,  and  those  of 
some  of  the  chief  public  buildings,  are  really  very  pretty. 
They  are  of  the  Eastern  ogive  form,  ornamented  with  curious 
pinnacles,  with  bud-like  extremities,  forcibly  reminding 
one  of  asparagus  shoots.  They  are  profusely  ornamented  with 
designs  in  enamelled  brick  and  tiles  of  the  brightest  colours. 
The  brick  patterns  are  mostly  black,  blue,  white,  and 
orange,  producing,  in  the  blinding  glare  of  an  Eastern 
sun,  an  indescribably  brilliant  effect.  In  the  spaces  over 
the  arches,  and  in  the  side  panels,  are  large,  fairly  exe- 
cuted designs  in  enamelled  tiles,  representing  the  Lion  and 
Sun,  and  various  scenes  from  Persian  mythology  and 
history.  These  buildings,  with  their  brilliant  colouring,  re- 
minded me  forcibly  of  the  drawings  of  the  restored  palaces 
of  Nineveh. 

The  road  from  Easvin  to  Teheran  is  a  marvellous  im- 
provement on  that  between  the  former  town  and  Besht,  which 
is  so  exceedingly  bad  as  scarcely  to  merit  the  name  of  road. 
In  fact,  the  natural  surface  of  the  country,  left  as  it  origi- 
nally stood,  would  be  infinitely  preferable  to  the  present 
frightful  track — half  mud-hole,  half  quarry.  The  road 
leading  southward  from  Easvin  owes  a  good  deal  to  its 
course  lying  over  a  level  sandy  plain;  but  its  condition 
is  remarkably  good.  It  is  at  least  forty  feet  wide,  well 
drained,  and  kept  in  good  order.    The  postmaster  of  Easvin 


GOOD  ROAD.— DISHONEST  POSTMASTERS.       333 

is,  as  I  was  informed  there,  a  Pole ;  and  the  assistants  and 
grooms  are  either  Bussian  or  German.  We  were  provided 
with  capital  horses,  in  first-rate  condition,  and  the  rapid 
pace  at  which  we  cleared  the  first  stage  of  about  twenty- four 
miles  was  luxurious  compared  to  the  tediously  crawling  and 
aggravating  progress  over  the  more  northerly  track.  Owing 
to  the  good  condition  of  the  road  between  Easvin  and 
Teheran,  troikas  have  been  supplied,  and  are  available  for 
travellers  who  do  not  like  to  proceed  on  horseback,  while 
the  entire  road  reflects  the  greatest  credit  on  those  to  whose 

« 

charge  it  is  entrusted.  I  regret  not  to  be  able  to  say  the  same 
thing  of  the  condition  in  which  we  found  the  post  horses  at 
many  stations.  The  animals  were  excellent  in  their  way ; 
but  it  was  evident  before  one  had  made  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
on  their  backs  that  they  were  either  half-starved  or  overworked. 
The  infrequency  of  travellers  along  this  route,  especially 
those  travelling  by  post,  renders  it  impossible  that  the 
animals  could  be  overworked  by  legitimate  traffic.  I  was 
informed  on  good  authority  that  in  some  cases  postmasters 
either  use  the  horses,  which  they  are  supposed  to  hold  in 
readiness  for  the  public  service,  on  their  own  farms,  or  else 
let  them  out  to  others  for  a  similar  purpose.  So  it  happens 
that  the  traveller  on  arriving  at  the  station  finds  the  horses 
intended  for  his  use,  and  for  which  he  has  paid  at  a  high 
rate,  so  completely  broken  down  by  their  day's  labour  as  to 
be  incapable  of  proceeding  at  anything  like  the  required 
pace  over  the  sixteen  or  twenty  miles  which  separate  the 
post-houses.  For  instance,  the  horses  we  obtained  at 
Kishlak  station,  at  which  we  arrived  at  nine  o'clock  on 
the  evening  of  our  departure  from  Easvin,  and  which  we 
left  at  five  o'clock  on  the  following  morning,  were,  though 
very  fair  animals,  in  such  a  wretchedly  fatigued  condition 
that  we  were  obliged  to  dismount  within  two  miles  of  the 
next  station  and  send  on  a  messenger  to  obtain  help  to  get 


334  HISSAREK.— OLD  MOUNDS. 

our  saddles  and  baggage  tip  to  the  post-house.  On 
another  stage  our  postboy's  horse  broke  down  completely, 
and  we  had  to  wait  three  hours  for  him  at  Yengi  Imam. 
The  horses  we  obtained  there  were  in  the  same  deplorable 
condition ;  and  it  was  only  on  reaching  Hissarek  post-house 
that  we  were  furnished  with  proper  animals.  At  this  last 
station  we  were  supplied  with  spirited  little  grey  ponies,  who 
sometimes  carried  us  a  good  deal  quicker  than  we  wished  to 
go.  The  good  condition  of  the  horses  at  Hissarek,  and  the 
rapidity  with  which  they  carried  us,  showed  what  a  well- 
disposed,  honest  postmaster  could  do.  In  fact,  with  the 
exception  of  the  arrangements  at  Easvin  and  the  horses 
supplied  to  us  when  leaving  that  town,  as  well  as  those  from 
Hissarek  to  Teheran,  there  could  not  possibly  be  found  a 
worse  conducted  posting  system.  In  the  horses  we  found 
poor  overworked  beasts ;  in  the  men,  people  endowed  with 
all  the  provoking  slowness  and  insowciance  of  Spaniards, 
without  a  trace  of  the  honesty  and  manliness  which  are  the 
redeeming  qualities  of  the  latter. 

The  country  on  either  side  the  high  road  is  well  culti- 
vated, and  numerous  villages  occur  at  short  intervals. 
They  are  all,  without  exception,  surrounded  by  tall,  strong 
mud  walls  with  circular  flanking  towers.  It  is  curious  to 
note  that,  almost  invariably,  in  close  proximity  to  these 
villages  are  large  earthen  mounds,  somewhat  similar  to 
those  one  meets  with  on  the  Turcoman  plains,  but  greatly 
inferior  in  dimensions.  These  mounds  have  traces  of  exten- 
sive earthworks  about  their  bases,  indicating  that  the  sites  of 
the  modern  villages  are  almost  coincident  with  the  ancient 
ones,  dating  back  to  almost  prehistoric  times,  when  these 
earth  mounds  supported  the  citadels  which  served  as  places 
of  refuge  to  the  inhabitants  in  time  of  invasion.  To  the  left 
of  the  road  the  plain  is  dotted  by  the  long  lines  of  small 
earth  mounds  which  denote  the  tracks  of  the  kanots,  and 


NEARING   TEHERAN.— PERSIAN  GENDARMERIE.  335 

which  are  the  only  available  means  by  which  the  arid  plains 
are  kept  fruitful  during  the  withering  summer  heats. 
Owing  to  the  source  of  each  being  at  the  bottom  of  a  very 
deep  well  at  the  foot,  or  low  down  on  the  slope,  of  some 
neighbouring  hills,  these  streams  are  independent  of  the 
melting  snows  for  their  water  supply ;  and  the  fact  of  their 
channels  lying  deep  beneath  the  surface  of  the  earth  pre- 
vents the  great  evaporation  which  would  occur  did  they 
trickle  along  the  surface,  also  keeping  the  water  cool  and 
in  a  drinkable  condition.  These  streams  issue  to  the 
surface  at  the  level  portions  of  the  plain,  where  they  serve 
alike  for  the  irrigation  of  the  fields  and  the  water  supply  of 
the  villages. 

Between  Easvin  and  Teheran  one  comes  upon  traces  of 
genuine  European  civilisation — due,  if  I  be  not  mistaken, 
to  the  Count  de  Monteforte,  the  Police  Minister  of  his 
Majesty  the  Shah.  It  is  true  that  for  many  a  long  league 
the  police  stations,  situated  eight  miles  apart,  were  little 
more  than  half-completed  buildings ;  but  as  we  got  closer 
to  the  capital  we  came  upon  pleasant  little  lodges,  in  some 
cases  ornamented  with  incipient  creeping  plants,  and 
always  with  well-uniformed  gendarmerie  before  the  door. 
These  little  places,  with  their  public  functionaries,  are 
agreeable  interruptions  of  the  uncivilised  nakedness  of  the 
rest  of  the  road.  But  Persia  is  only  in  her  transition  state 
as  yet.  The  country  round  Teheran  is  by  no  means 
attractive.  It  looks  sadly  bare  and  sunburnt,  relieved  only 
by  the  strictly  limited  gardens,  the  result  of  laborious 
irrigation,  which  break  the  yellow-gray  expanse  of  plain. 
Half  the  verdure  one  sees  belongs  to  gardens  attaching  to 
the  many  residences  possessed  by  the  Shah  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  town.  The  deep  green  foliage  of  the  plane- 
trees  (chenar)  looked  painfully  prominent  against  the  dreary 
background  of  ashy-yellow  plain  which  sweeps  away  to  the 


336  ELBURZ  MOUNTAINS.— CITY  GATE. 

foot  of  the  Elburz  mountains,  then  deeply  covered  with 
enow.    It  is  one  of  the  most  tantalising  things  possible  to 
ride  a  last  stage  across  the  plain,  where  the  air  is  thick 
with  dun-brown  dust,  and  to  see  the  giant  peaks  towering, 
seemingly  within  hand's  reach,  all  white  with  snowy  cape 
— long  silvery  streaks  coming  down  claw-like  along  their 
sides.    It  makes  one  feel  doubly  hot  and  thirsty.     Even 
close  to  the  city  itself  gardens  and  villages  are  enclosed  by 
tall  mud  walls,  with  the  inevitable  flanking  towers.     The 
deplorable  traditions  of  scarce  a  century  ago  still  live  in 
this  system  of  gwm'-fortification.     On  approaching  Teheran 
the  town  presents  not  the  slightest  striking  feature.     Were 
not    one    advised   beforehand    of   his    approach    to    the 
place,  he  would  never  guess  that  he  was  in  the  proximity 
of  the  capital  of  Persia.     Some  narrow  yellow  streaks 
indicate  the  presence  of  ramparts— a  bad  imitation  of  the 
ramparts  of  Paris.    Not  a  single  cupola  or  spire  strikes  the 
eye.    The  fact  is,  there  are  none  at  Teheran.    The  gate 
by  which  one  enters  is,  like    those   of  Easvin,    neatly 
ornamented  with  enamelled  bricks  and  tile  pictures,    a 
feature    which    predominates    in    Persian    architecture. 
When   even  the  site    of  Teheran  shall  be  a  puzzle   to 
archaeologists,  its  painted  tiles,  with  their  quaint  representa- 
tions of  modern  soldiery,  and  even  of  coaches,  will  be  a 
solace  to  the  antiquary — even  more  so  than  the  sculptured 
walls  of  Nineveh — for  the  colours  will  remain.     Of  the 
fortifications  I  need  say  but  little.     They  are  apparently 
copied  from  the  old  ramparts  of  Paris,  and  strictly  adhere 
to  Vauban's  system — in  trace,  at  least.    In  profile  they  are 
subject  to  Persian  modifications.     The  scarp,  which,  as  my 
military  readers  will  know,  is  the  portion  of  the  wall  below 
the  level  of  the  plane  of  site,  is  of  raw  earth,  left  to  stand 
or  fall  at  a  steep  slope,  as  may  best  suit  itself.     The  exterior 
slope  of  the  parapet,  that  which  would  undergo  the  ordeal 


ENTERING   TEHERAN.  337 

of  battering  during  a  regular  siege,  while  being  at  the 
orthodox  slope  of  forty  five  degrees,  is  plastered  up  with 
yellow  mud  for  the  sake  of  appearances.  There  is  not  a 
trace  of  an  exterior  fort  to  cover  the  approaches  to  the 
town,  and  the  watercourses  on  which  it  so  entirely  depends. 
I  wondered  at  this  all  the  more  that  there  were  so  many 
highly  experienced  European  officers  in  the  town  engaged 
in  organising  the  Persian  military  system.  Of  this  I  shall 
have  more  to  say  later  on.  For  the  moment  I  leave  my 
readers  as  I  gallop  within  the  ramparts  into  a  wide,  barren, 
dusty  space,  where  one  sees  little  sign  of  a  metropolis. 


vol.  1.  a 


33*  FORTIFICATIONS. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

TEHERAN. 

Defences  of  Teheran — General  aspect  of  town — Groves  and  gardens — British 
Legation— Boulevards— Gas  lamps — Electric  light — Cannon  square — Gun 
from  Delhi — Shah's  palace — Newly  organized  regiments — Uniform — Arms 
— Austrian  officers — Captain  Stand ei sky — Gymnastics — Care  of  arms  — 
Captain  Wagner  and  the  artillery — Persian  Cossacks— Colonel  Demon- 
tovitch — Visit  to  cavalry  barracks — Old  soldiers  v.  new — Baron  Renter's 
contract — Shah's  red  umbrella— Royal  cavalcade — Shah's  carriage — Indies 
of  the  harem — '  Be  blind,  be  blind ! ' — Novel  military  salute — Departure  of 
Austrian  officers — Rumoured  advent  of  Russian  organisers. 

The  fortifications  of  Teheran  are,   strictly  speaking,   on 
Vauban's  system,  that  is  to  say,  on  the  system  of  those  of 
Paris — the  enceinte  up  to  the  date  of  the  Franco-German 
campaign.    It  seems  to  me  strange  that  his  Majesty  the 
Shah,  who  goes  to  so  much  trouble  and  expense  in  employ- 
ing foreign  officers  to  organise  his  army,  should  not  have 
thought  it  worth  his  while  to  engage  a  few  military  engineers 
to  supervise  the  modelling  of  the  defensive  works  of  his 
capital.    For  aught  I  know  he  may  have  secured  some  such 
assistance ;  but  perchance  they  are  like  those  of  whom 
Lord  Byron  tells  us  in  '  Don  Juan,'  who  were  employed  to 
construct  the  fortifications  of  Ismail,  and  who,  as  the  Turks 
found  to  their  cost,  did  more  for  the  assailants  than  for 
the  besieged.     The  defences  of  Teheran,  as  they  at  present 
stand,  are  much  more  harmful  than  otherwise.     Under  the 
hypothesis  that  the  works  are  good  for  something,  an 
assaulting  army  has  the  right  to  bombard  an  enclosed 
capital  or  other  town.    Even  Paris,  with  its  *  scientific  * 


ORNAMENTAL  GATES.  339 

enceinte  and  outlying  forts,  was  far  from  adequate  to  repel 
the  means  of  attack  available  to  the  Teuton  beleaguerers. 
What,  then,  shall  we  say  of  the  ill-constructed  ramparts  of 
Teheran,  without  a  single  outwork  ?  In  one  day  the  enemy 
would  erect  his  bombarding  batteries,  and  in  another, 
Teheran  would  be  in  ashes,  or  surrendered. 

Very  probably  the  existing  works  were  constructed  as  a 
capable  means  of  resisting  a  coup  d'etat  from  without,  for 
the  present  Eadjar  dynasty  has  been  too  short  a  time  on 
the  throne  to  forget  the  events  which  placed  it  there.  But 
to-day  the  rulers  of  Persia  ought  to  remember  that  the 
danger  is  not  of  Turcomans  or  rival  tribes,  but  that,  though 
coming  from  farther  off,  it  is  not  a  whit  less  serious. 

Though  the  ramparts  lack  military  strength,  the  artistic 
beauty  of  the  gates  of  Teheran  is  undeniable.  The  traveller 
from  colder  and  more  practical  climes,  on  coming  in  sight 
of  the  portals  of  the  Persian  capital,  is  at  once  carried  back 
to  the  days  when  he  re&d  the  '  Arabian  Nights '  and  gloated 
over  the  exploits  of  the  Caliph  Haroun  Alraschid.  It  is 
really  touching  to  find  this  sentiment  of  beauty  lingering 
amidst  the  wreck  of  the  once  mighty  power  of  Persia,  and 
it  would  be  but  ill  grace  on  the  part  of  the  passing  stranger 
to  withhold  his  appreciation  of  it.  Coming  in  from  the 
parched  plains,  where  at  long  intervals  only,  and  by  dint  of 
artificial  irrigation,  vegetation  is  to  be  met  with,  across  the 
quivering  mirage  there  rises  an  arched  and  pinnacled 
edifice,  all  aglow  with  tints  borrowed  from  the  setting  *  sun 
as  it  bids  its  adieu  to  the  surrounding  hills.  One  feels  that 
though  '  Iran's  sun  be  set  for  ever/  politically  at  any  rate, 
some  traces  of  its  old  glory  remain  in  the  arches  which  give 
access  to  its  present  capital.  The  graceful  outlines,  the 
mingled  colours  glowing  on  brick  and  tile  over  the  almost 
Alhambric  arches,  bring  one  back  to  his  early  dreams  of 
the  East,  even  though  a  sad  experience  has  taught  that 

12 


34<>  WITHIN  THE   WALLS.— KANOTS. 

beneath  this  gloss  lies  a  misery  almost  as  deep  as  that  of 
the  back  slums  of  civilisation. 

The  space  enclosed  by  the  walls  is  much  greater  than 
that  occupied  by  the  streets,  squares,  and  buildings,  very 
considerable  distances  intervening  between  the  exterior 
houses  and  the  fortifications.  The  general  aspect  of  the 
town  conveys  to  one's  mind  the  idea  of  a  strange  mixture 
of  mingled  desolation  and  suddenly  occurring,  exuberant 
foliage.  The  zone  immediately  within  the  ramparts  is 
mainly  an  expanse  of  arid  yellow  earth,  broken  by  gravel- 
pits  and  fragments  of  mud  walls.  Here  and  there  are 
portions  of  earthworks  and  batteries  erected  under  the 
supervision  of  the  European  training  officers  during  a 
course  of  military  instruction.  Between  Teheran  and  the 
bases  of  the  mountains  the  plain  slopes  upwards,  and  is 
copiously  sprinkled  with  gardens  and  plantations,  all  of 
them  supported  by  artificial  irrigation.  As  I  have  already 
explained,  this  irrigation  is  not  effected  by  natural  surface 
streams,  but  by  means  of  those  curious  underground  water- 
courses termed  kanots,  which,  commencing  at  the  bottom 
of  a  deep  boring  close  to  the  foot  of  the  lower  hills,  are 
ultimately  made  to  issue  to  the  surface  at  lower  levels,  the 
greater  portion  of  their  course  being  protected  from  the 
sun's  rays  by  the  overlying  earth.  As  far  as  one  can  judge, 
the  soil  round  Teheran  is  most  fertile,  needing  only  an 
adequate  water  supply  to  be  rendered  wonderfully  produc- 
tive. The  artificial  watercourses  which  exist  appear  to 
be  mainly  devoted  to  the  support  of  groves  of  plane-trees 
(clienar),  pomegranate,  and  poplar,  destined  as  pleasure- 
gardens,  and  to  the  furnishing  of  the  necessary  drinking 
water  to  the  city.  Little  seemed  to  have  been  done  as  re- 
gards the  irrigation  of  corn-fields,  though  the  ripening 
crops  looked  promising,  and  bade  fair  to  more  than  counter- 
balance the  effect  of  the  drought  of  the  preceding  year. 


BRITISH  LEGATION.— A  BOULEVARD.  341 

The  grounds  of  the  British  Legation  afford  a  good  example 
of  what  skilled  gardening  can  effect,  even  in  such  a  broiling 
climate  as  that  of  Persia.  They  are  situated  apart  from 
the  inhabited  portion  of  the  city,  but  within  the  walls,  and, 
I  venture  to  say,  are  altogether  unrivalled  by  any  similar 
native  attempts,  though  many  very  large  gardens  belonging 
both  to  the  Shah  and  his  nobles  occur  within  the  enceinte. 
Still,  even  with  its  water  basins  and  running  streams, 
and  their  shady  alleys  of  chenars,  weeping  willows,  and 
mulberry,  the  heat  becomes  so  intense  about  the  beginning 
of  June  that  it  is  found  necessary  to  remove  the  staff  of 
the  Legation  to  the  midsummer  residence  at  the  foot  of  the 
Elburz,  about  two  farsdkhs  (eight  miles)  from  Teheran,  and, 
I  believe,  nearly  a  thousand  feet  above  its  level.  Here, 
though  at  mid-day  hours  the  temperature  is  far  from 
agreeable,  it  is  much  more  bearable  than  in  the  city  below. 
Through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  B.  F.  Thomson,  the  British 
Minister,  whose  guest  I  was  for  the  moment,  I  was  able  to 
appreciate  the  difference  between  the  two. 

The  modern  portions  of  Teheran  display  a  strange 
mixture  of  eastern  and  western  styles.  Leading  from  the 
principal  gate  of  the  British  Legation  in  the  direction  of 
the  main  entrance  of  the  Shah's  palace  is  a  long  boulevard, 
arranged  as  nearly  as  possible  after  the  method  of  a 
Parisian  one.  It  will  be  a  very  pretty  avenue  indeed  when 
the  well-watered  trees  have  arrived  at  maturity.  These 
trees,  though  but  from  seven  to  nine  years  old,  have  already 
assumed  respectable  dimensions.  Mingled  with  them  at 
intervals  were  strange  objects  for  a  Persian  city— regular 
street  gas  lamps.  Unfortunately,  the  French  gentleman 
charged  with  the  production  of  the  necessary  gas  had  not 
been  able  to  carry  out  to  its  full  extent  the  contract  into 
which  he  had  entered  with  the  Government.  This,  I 
understood,  was  because  the  necessary  funds  were  not 


34>  ELECTRIC  LIGHT.— GAS. 

forthcoming  with  the  requisite  rapidity.  In  one  or  two 
places  the  electric  light  had  been  established,  but  it  was 
only  in  front  of  the  main  gate  of  the  palace  that  the  light 
was  ever  displayed,  unless  on  exceptionally  festive  occasions. 
The  lamp-posts  were  a  standing  source  of  wonder  to  the 
inhabitants,  who  could  not  well  understand  why  they  had 
been  placed  in  situ  without  producing  any  of  the  wonderful 
effects  which  they  had  been  led  to  believe  they  were  capable 
of.  When  passing  through  Teheran  on  my  way  back  to 
Europe,  I  found  that  an  attempt  had  been  made  to  inaugu- 
rate the  undertaking.  By  the  exercise  of  great  energy 
about  twenty  gas  jets  had  been  placed  round  the  cannon 
square.  The  Shah  had  been  expected  to  be  present,  but 
was  not.1  In  his  absence  the  ceremonials  were  presided 
over  by  his  two  sons.  After  the  lighting  of  these  few  lamps, 
things  subsided  into  their  old,  non-progressive  condition. 
I  am  afraid  that,  even  with  the  best  intentions  on  the  part 
of  the  municipal  authorities,  the  boulevard  of  Teheran  will 
not  present  any  attractive  appearance,  at  least  for  a  long 
time.  Luxuriant  foliage  and  street  lamps  may  be  present 
in  abundance,  but  the  shops  will  not  be  much  improved  by 
them.  These  shops  line  the  thoroughfare  like  a  series  of 
railway  arches.  In  the  East  a  man  stays  in  his  shop  until 
near  sundown,  and  then  retires  to  his  dwelling,  which  is 
generally  in  a  distant  part  of  the  town.  The  gas  lamps 
could  only  help  to  disclose  a  series  of  ground-floor  cells, 
barricaded  with  very  indifferent-looking  shutters.  Follow- 
ing the  main  boulevard  one  arrives  at  a  large,  picturesque 
entrance,  quite  like  the  city  gates,  and  as  prettily  decorated. 
Massive  iron-barred  portals,  when  necessary,  close  this 
opening.     It  gives  access  to  a  large,  bare,  paved  square, 

1  I  have  been  informed  that  his  absence  on  this  occasion  was  due  to  his 
dread  of  un  explosion,  which  persons  hostile  to  the  undertaking  had  persuaded 
him  was  not  only  possible,  but  probable. 


OLD  GUNS,— NEW  TROOPS.  343 

one  side  of  which  shows  a  number  of  arched  compartments, 
with  glazed  windows,  within  which  are  kept  sundry  seedy- 
looking  bronze  twelve-pounder  smooth-bore  guns.  On  the 
right-hand  side  are  half  a  dozen  huge  brass  guns,  twenty- 
four  and  thirty-two  pounders,  on  siege  carriages.  They 
are,  as  the  dates  show,  from  forty  to  sixty  years  old,  and 
their  scored  and  torn  bores  tell  tales  of  many  a  bag  of  nails 
and  many  a  dozen  paving-stones  discharged  from  them. 
They  are  probably  displayed  in  their  present  position, 
guarded  by  a  score  of  Oriental-looking  artillerymen;  with  a 
view  of  conveying  to  the  popular  mind  a  hint  of  what  the 
Government  could  do  if  truculently  disposed.  At  the 
side  opposite  to  that  by  which  one  enters  is  another  pictu- 
resque gateway,  just  within  which  stands  a  very  long  and 
highly-decorated  bronze  gun — a  sixty-four  pounder,  I  should 
say,  from  its  calibre.  The  popular  idea  in  Teheran  is  that 
this  is  the  largest  gun  in  the  world.  It  was  brought  from 
Delhi  by  Nadir  Shah,  after  his  capture  of  that  city. 

Continuing  our  route,  we  pass  along  another  street,  not 
yet  a  boulevard,  the  same  railway-arch-like  shops  pre- 
dominating. Then  we  are  in  front  of  the  main  palace  gate- 
way. It  is  of  enamelled  brick,  white  stucco,  and  sea-green 
paint.  Like  the  tower  palace  at  Enzeli,  fragments  of  look- 
ing-glass enter  largely  into  the  composition  of  the  very 
peculiar  composite  pilasters  of  its  upper  stories.  When  the 
sun's  rays  fall  obliquely,  the  effect  of  these  numerous 
mirrors  is  very  pretty ;  otherwise  the  less  said  about  it  the 
better.  It  was  in  front  of  this  palace  gate  that,  for  the  first 
time,  the  uniform  of  the  newly-organised  Persian  regiments 
came  under  my  notice.  It  is  very  serviceable,  and  quite 
smart-looking.  All  the  more  so,  to  European  eyes  at  least, 
that  it  differs  from  the  horridly  slovenly-looking  fall-hipped 
tunic  worn  under  the  old  regime,  notably  by  the  officers. 
It  consists  of  a  garment  half  tunic,  half  fatigue  blouse,  of 


344  ARMS.— CAPTAIN  STANDEISKY. 

coarse  blue  navy  serge,  very  short  in  the  skirt,  and  girt 
with  a  brown  leather  belt.  The  trousers  are  of  the  same 
material.  The  head-dress  is  a  small  shako  of  black  curled 
lambs'  wool,  with  a  brass  badge,  carried  in  front,  behind, 
or  at  the  side,  according  to  the  taste  of  each  soldier.  It  is 
a  remarkable  fact  that  while  the  majority  of  the  troops  at 
Teheran  are  armed  with  the  Austrian  Werndl  breech- 
loader, a  most  serviceable  weapon,  the  palace  guard  carry 
the  old-fashion  muzzle-loading  rifle  of  the  same  nation.  It 
is  a  deeply-grooved  rifle,  with  bright  barrel,  and  the  peculiar 
kind  of  stock  with  cheek  piece  formerly  carried  by  certain 
Austrian  corps.  The  Shah  thinks  too  well  of  his  subjects  in 
the  capital  to  consider  a  practical  guard  necessary,  and 
leaves  the  improved  weapons  in  the  hands  of  the  soldiers 
who  are  learning  to  defend  their  country,  '  if  necessary, 
against  England,'  as  a  Persian  officer  one  day  told  me  very 
frankly.  As  I  am  on  army  subjects  I  may  as  well  say  a 
word  about  the  foreign  officers  brought  from  Austria  to 
organise  the  battalions  of  the  Shah.  During  my  stay  at 
Teheran  I  paid  an  early  visit  to  the  barracks  organised 
under  the  surveillance  of  Captain  Standeisky,  of  the 
Austrian  service.  As  a  feature  of  European  training — a 
very  unusual  one  in  an  Eastern  army — I  noticed  the  great 
attention  paid  to  gymnastics  and  preliminary  drill.  The 
recruiting  system  in  Persia  leaves  much  to  be  desired ;  but 
nevertheless  it  brings  to  the  ranks  a  very  large  majority  of 
stalwart  young  men,  in  every  way  fitted  to  be  soldiers. 
Like  all  peasants,  they  are  more  or  less  uncouth  in  their 
manners  and  bearing,  and  require  a  little  preliminary 
schooling  before  they  can  be  placed  in  the  ranks  musket  in 
hand.  The  Austrian  officers  in  charge  knew,  and  none 
better  than  Captain  Standeisky,  that  however  good  the 
absolutely  fighting  element  may  be,  and  however  steadily 
the  men  may  stand  in  actual  combat,  there  is  something  else 


GYMNAST1CS.-CAPTAIN  WAGNER.  345 

required  in  a  soldier.  He  has  a  duty  to  perform  anent  the 
civilians  at  home,  as  well  as  in  front  of  an  enemy.  It 
would  never  do  to  have  a  lumbering  troop  of  fighting  clod- 
hoppers marching  down  a  thoroughfare  in  any  street  in  a 
European  capital,  much  less  a  Persian  one.  I  have  seen 
gymnastic  exercises  carried  out  in  most  European  armies, 
and  can  say  that  in  many  of  them  the  men  would  have  no 
occasion  to  be  ashamed  of  what  I  witnessed  in  one  of  the 
Teheran  barrack  squares.  I  saw  the  heavy-weight  exercise, 
the  trapeze,  the  bridge,  the  vaulting  exercise,  and  many 
others,  most  creditably  gone  through ;  and  I  saw  the  same 
men  go  through  company  and  battalion  drill  with  great 
accuracy.  My  visit  was  an  impromptu  one,  so  that  no 
special  preparations  could  have  been  made  beforehand,  even 
had  such  a  thing  been  possible.  As  the  companies  marched 
into  quarters  I  was  invited  to  examine  the  riflesf  The 
interiors  of  the  barrels  were  bright  as  silver,  the  locks  in 
perfect  order,  and  there  was  not  a  soil  except  what  was 
inevitable  after  an  hour's  exercise.  As  a  last  trial,  I  saw 
the  performance  of  a  company  crossing  a  dead  wall  twenty- 
five  feet  in  height,  forming  pyramid,  twelve  men  as  a  base, 
the  last  carrying  a  rope  over  with  him.  It  was  most 
creditably  done,  the  only  drawback  being  the  merriment  of 
the  men  at  being  put  through  the  extra  exercise  for  the 
benefit  of  a  stranger.  Captain  Wagner,  of  the  Artillery, 
had  brought  his  men  as  near  perfection  as  possible ;  and  it 
is  no  small  thing  to  be  said  in  favour  of  these  gentlemen 
that  they  have  had  to  form  their  officers  as  well  as  their 
men. 

The  cavalry  comes  under  the  control  of  a  different 
nationality.  In  this  particular  the  Bussians  in  Persia  bear 
away  the  palm.  Colonel  Demontovitch,  late  of  the  army 
corps  of  General  Tergukasoff  at  Bayazid  during  the  Turco- 
Bussian  campaign,  was  charged  with  the  formation  of  some 


346  PERSIAN  COSSACKS.— COLONEL  DEMONTOVITCH. 

regiments  of  Cossacks  on  the  Russian  model.     I  hare  to 
return  him  my  best  thanks  for  the  pains  which  he  took  to 
show  me  all  the  smallest  details  of  the  corps  entrusted  to 
his  charge.    He  told  me  that  while  the  Austrian  officers 
had  to  apply  to  the  Persian  Government  for  each  sum 
required,*  either  for  organisation  or  for  the  purpose  of 
building  quarters,  he  had  carte  blanche.    I  must  say  that 
no  man  ever  turned  his  discretionary  powers  to  greater 
advantage.    I  could  judge  of  this,  not  from  the  appearance 
of  his  embryonic  squadrons  when  they  were  paraded  to 
meet  the  Shah,  but  from  a  visit  to  the  quarters   of  his 
soldiers.     It  seems  that  the  Shah,  during  his  European 
tour,  took  a  great  fancy  to  the  Cossack  cavalry.   He  was  not 
carried  away  by  the  outward  show  and  glitter  of  more  pre- 
tentious horsemen,  such  as  we  have  at  home,  for  instance ; 
he  wished  to  have  some  regiments  of  the  long-coated  sober- 
looking  cavalry  he  had  seen  in  a  neighbouring  territory.    I 
have  seen  the  Cossacks  in  the  field— in  action  in  fact ;  and 
I  think  it  is  not  derogatory  to  them  to  say  that  Colonel 
Demontovich's  men  are  but  little  behind  them  in  general 
style.     It  is  true  that  the  favourable  contrast  which  they 
make  with  the  mass  of  the  Persian  troops  is  due  to  a  certain 
extent  to  the  kind  of  Draconic  discipline  to  which  they  are 
subjected ;  and  which,   after  all,   is  just  barely  what  is 
necessary  to  make  latter-day  Persians  understand  what  real 
soldiering  means.     I  saw  them  on  one  occasion  when  his 
Majesty  the  Shah  was  paying  one  of  his  annual  visits  to 
his  Prime  Minister.     The  newly  Austrian-driUed  infantry 
were  standing  at  ease,  but  keeping  their  ranks;  and  in 
front  of  them  I  saw  the  traditional  soldiers  of  Persia  in 
their  slovenly  garments,  their  attitudes  '  at  ease '  more  than 
any  military  code  would  have  permitted.     I  saw  the  '  old 
fogey1  officers  sitting  on  their  haunches  smoking  their 
water-pipes,  and  little  troubling  themselves  whether  it  was 


A    VISIT  TO   THE  CAVALRY  QUARTERS.        347 

the  Shah  or  anybody  else  who  was  coming  by.  And  a  little 
higher  up  I  saw  Demontovitch's  Cossacks,  on  foot,  drawn 
up  '  at  ease/  more  accurately  aligned  than  ever  the  '  old 
fogies  '  could  have  put  themselves  '  at  attention/  I  could 
perceive  too  that  when  his  Majesty  the  Shah  rode  by,  pre- 
ceded by  his  running  footmen  and  surrounded  by  his  great 
officers  of  State,  his  eyes  turned  lovingly  to  the  long  still 

■ 

ranks  of  the  dismounted  cavalry,  their  swords  blazing  in  the 
noontide  sun — just  as  they  had  been  for  five  hours  before. 
It  was  perhaps  a  little  wanton  exercise  of  despotic  power  to 
keep  these  poor  willing  men,  needlessly  incurring  the  risk 
of  sunstroke,  for  so  long ;  but  there  they  were,  motionless 
all  the  same.  I  subsequently  visited  their  quarters.  We 
came  suddenly  on  them.  The  men  were  in  their  white 
summer  tunics,  scrupulously  clean.  On  the  first  notice  of 
our  approach  they  were  at  once  drawn  up  in  the  stables. 
The  horses  were  glossy  with  frequent  combing ;  the  place 
was  carefully  swept  up.  I  only  make  this  statement  in 
fairness  to  what  I  have  seen  of  the  work  of  European  officers 
in  Persia.  But  let  me  add  another,  made  by  an  officer  of 
long  experience  in  that  country.  *  You  see  what  they  are 
now ;  when  we  are  gone,  in  six  months  all  will  be  the  same 
as  if  we  never  had  been  here.'  So  much  for  European 
military  training  and  its  prospects  in  Persia. 

The  Shah  is  no  doubt  influenced  by  the  best  of  motives. 
He  has  visited  Europe,  and  has  probably  gauged  the  ipeans 
by  which  Western  men  have  become  what  they  are.  He 
does  his  best  to  follow  in  their  track ;  but  he  is  impotent 
before  the  inertia  of  a  nation.  Everyone  is  familiar  with 
the  history  of  Baron  Beuter's  contract.  Its  fulfilment 
would  have  cost  the  Shah  his  throne.  He  dared  not  name 
as  Grand  Vizier  the  only  man  of  intellect  in  his  country 
whom  he  could  trust,  because  of  popular  prejudice,  Hussein 
Khan    having  been  a  strong  supporter  of  the  railway 


348  A  ROYAL  PROGRESS. 

project.  As  I  saw  the  monarch  ride  by  under  the  shade 
of  his  red  umbrella,  which  he  carries  as  an  emblem  of 
sovereignty,  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  he  was,  perhaps, 
the  man  most  to  be  pitied  in  all  Persia.  Speaking  of  his 
riding  past,  I  know  that  since  the  royal  visit  to  Europe 
people  are  apt  to  figure  to  themselves  the  Shah  of  Persia  as 
living  amid  a  perpetual  blaze  of  diamonds.  The  following 
was  my  experience  of  one  of  his  progresses.  Some 
mounted  policemen  (Austrian  style)  came  galloping  ahead. 
Then  came  some  two  hundred  people,  most  of  them  with 
double-barrelled  fowling-pieces  slung  at  their  backs.  After 
these  rode  fifty  men  with  silver  maces,  and  then  a  very 
plainly  clad  group,  in  the  midst  of  which  was  the  Shah, 
not  to  be  distinguished  from  the  rest  of  the  company,  for, 
as  the  sun  was  not  shining,  he  had  furled  his  red  umbrella. 
Behind  the  group  immediately  surrounding  the  Shah  came 
his  state  coach,  in  pattern  closely  resembling  that  of  the 
Lord  Mayor  of  London,  but  looking  very  much  the  worse 
for  wear,  some  of  the  battered  corners  being  badly  in  need  of 
repainting  and  gilding.  Along  the  by-streets  rolled  some 
lumbering  carriages,  preceded  by  a  dozen  men  bearing  long 
willow  wands.  They  were  the  keepers  of  the  harem,  and 
they  shouted  incessantly,  '  Be  blind,  be  blind ;  turn  your 
faces  to  the  wall.'  This  was  intended  to  prevent  any  of  the 
crowd  from  being  rash  enough  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  ladies 
of  the  harem  who  were  being  conveyed  to  await  his  Majesty's 
pleasure  at  his  next  halting-place.  The  European  officers 
in  the  Shah's  service  were  of  course  required  to  turn  their 
backs  when  these  ladies  appeared,  but  they  were  also 
supposed  to  salute  them  in  military  fashion.  The  result  of 
the  combined  movement  was  somewhat  absurd,  as  the 
officer  was  obliged  to  carry  his  hand  with  outstretched 
fingers  to  the  back  of  his  head  instead  of  to  his  brow. 
Nearly  two  years  subsequently,    the    whole    of    the 


RUMOURED  CHANGES.  349 

Austrian  officers  left  Teheran,  called  home  by  their  own 
sovereign.  During  my  homeward  voyage  up  the  Caspian 
I  was  accompanied  by  three  of  them — Captain  Standeisky, 
Baron  Kreuse,  and  an  elderly  major  who  had  acted  as 
principal  instructor  at  the  military  school  of  Teheran. 
Captain  Wagner  was  detained  until  a  few  days  later,  owing 
to  ill-health.  At  the  .time  of  the  withdrawal  of  these 
officers  it  was  currently  rumoured  that  their  places  would 
be  filled  by  others  like  Colonel  Demontovitch,  lent  to  Persia 
for  organising  purposes  by  the  Czar. 


1J0  OLD  TOWN. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
tehbbak  (continued). 

The  bazaar — Persian  yashmak — Constantinople  police  edict — The  town  as  it 
is — The  Shah  visiting  his  First  Minister — A  long  wait — Police — The 
oortige — Shah's  running  footmen — Apes  and  baboons — Scattering  flowers 
— Hopes  for  the  future — A  Persian  saying — Conceited  Persian  officer — An 
explanation — A  visit  to  the  Russian  Minister — SkobelefFs  telegram — '  An 
revoir  a  Merv ' — Interview  with  the  Sipah  Salar  Aazam — A  diplomatic 
conversation — Russo-Persian  frontier — Why  I  changed  sides — Dr.  Tholosan 
— The  military  situation — An  unpleasant  prospect. 

One  day  I  wended  my  way  towards  the  bazaar,  for  through 
it  lay  my  road  to  the  older  portions  of  the  town,  which 
I  wished  to  compare  with  the  more  Europeanised  boulevards 
described  in  the  last  chapter.  I  crossed  a  number  of 
large  squares,  and  traversed  long,  sunburnt  streets  flank- 
ing the  tall  Assyrian-looking  walls  of  unbaked  brick,  orna- 
mented with  blue,  black,  and  yellow  glazed  bricks,  which 
enclose  the  precincts  of  the  palace.  Some  of  the  quarters 
had  that  disagreeable  appearance  which  marks  an  English 
town  in  the  course  of  erection  or  demolition.  Every- 
thing was  dry  and  dusty ;  bricks,  plaster,  and  earth  heaps 
lay  all  around.  At  intervals  one  came  across  a  stream, 
looking  singularly  out  of  place — an  offshoot  of  one  of  the 
numerous  kanots  which  supply  the  town  with  water.  One 
plunges  suddenly  out  of  the  scorching,  glaring  sunlight, 
beneath  a  coloured  brick  archway,  where  for  a  moment, 
after  the  withering  blaze  outside,  the  darkness  of  night  seems 
to  prevail.     It  is  one  of  the  entrances  to  the  bazaar.     The 


BAZAAR.  351 

sensation  is  delightfully  fresh  and  cool  after  the  suffocating 
temperature  of  the  hot,  dusty  streets,  inundated  by  the 
deluge  of  fiery  light ;  and  the  currents  of  air  striking  the 
face  give  the  feeling  of  a  plunge  into  a  cold  bath.  Long 
ogive  vaulted  arcades,  thirty  feet  in  height,  and  lighted  by 
circular  openings  in  the  roof  at  intervals  of  twenty  feet, 
lead  away  in  half  a  dozen  different  directions.  On  either 
side  of  these  passages  are  tall  alcoves,  the  shops  of  the 
merchants.  They  are  simply  vaulted  openings,  the  floors 
of  which  are  raised  some  three  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
roadway,  the  various  articles  of  merchandise  being  exposed 
on  small  wooden  steps,  rising  towards  the  interior,  where 
sits  the  merchant.  The  arrangement  is  similar  to  that  seen 
in  most  Eastern  bazaars,  from  Stamboul  to  Hindostan. 
Each  trade  is  carried  on  in  its  separate  avenue,  though  in 
the  main  thoroughfares  grocers,  mercers,  general  mer- 
chants, and  iced  sherbet  sellers  congregate,  together  with 
an  occasional  kebabdji,  or  cook.  The  Armenian  traders  do 
not  usually  affect  the  bazaars.  They  either  form  caravan- 
serais apart,  or  have  their  shops— quite  on  the  European 
model,  with  glazed  windows,  counters,  and  all  the  other 
accessories  of  modern  civilisation— in  the  great  open  squares 
of  which  I  have  already  spoken. 

On  getting  well  into  the  main  bazaar  the  salient  feature 
of  the  place  is  the  confused  and  overwhelming  babel  of 
sounds  which  strike  the  ear.  In  one  avenue  there  arises 
the  din  of  a  hundred  coppersmiths,  sledging  away  at  their 
anvils  while  manufacturing  pots,  kettles,  and  other  uten- 
sils. In  the  next  perhaps  an  equal  number  of  persons  are 
yelling  out,  extolling  the  excellence  of  their  wares,  or 
trying  to  converse  with  one  another  from  their  shops  on 
opposite  sides  of  the  way,  pitching  their  voices  to  the 
utmost  to  dominate  the  hubbub  around  and  the  din  of 
the  passers-by.    We  are  generally  supposed  to  believe  that 


352  THE   YASHMAK, 

the  Eastern  is,  par  excellence,  a  silent,   sedate  kind  of 
person.     According  to  my  experience  he  is  the  noisiest 
individual  on  the  face  of  the  earth.    In  the  narrow  way 
between  the  shops  a  motley  multitude  hurries  by,  each 
one  jostling  the  other  without  the  least  regard  for  mutual 
convenience.    Any  one  having  a  brass  plate  on  his  hat,  or 
being  in  the  slightest  way  connected  with  an  official  person- 
age, seems  to  believe  it  his  privilege  to  run  a-muck  at  fall 
speed,  amidst  all  and  singular  the  ordinary  wayfarers.    The 
only  exception  to  this  seemed  to  be  the  police,  whom  in  all 
cases  I  found  exceedingly  civil  and  inoffensive,  and  affording 
a  shining  example  in  this  respect  to  other  Government 
employes,  not  only   in  Persia,  but  elsewhere.     There  are 
veiled  women,  and,  unlike  those  in  Constantinople,  they  are 
really  veiled.     In   Stamboul  the  yashmak  of  the  upper 
classes  is  used  but  to  enhance  natural  attractions — an 
extra  means  in  the  hands  of  coquetry.    In  Persia  the  veil 
is  a  sober  downright  thing  of  its  kind,  worn  in   sober 
earnest,  especially  when  husbands  or  acquaintances  are  by. 
The  Stamboul  yashmak  consists  of  two  pieces  of  the  light- 
est possible  gauze,  one  across  the  forehead,  the  other  across 
the  mouth  and  drooping  below  the  chin.    Here  it  is  one 
piece  of  serious  white  linen  bound  around  the  top  of  the 
forehead,  and  falling  to  below  the  breast,  tapering  as  it  falls. 
In  some  cases  there  is  a  kind  of  knitted  work  in  front  of 
the  eyes,  enabling  the  wearer  to  see  where  she  is  going,  but 
utterly  impermeable  to  external  eyes.     Sometimes  a  lady 
will  raise  her  substantial  face-covering  and  throw  it  back 
over  one  shoulder,  but  at  the  most  distant  sight  of  the  hos- 
tile sex  the  covering  is  replaced.    It  must  be  a  perfect 
martyrdom  to  these  poor  ladies,  in  this  atrociously  hot 
weather,  to  have  this  jealous  cloth  hanging  over  nose  and 
mouth.    I  know  that  of  an  evening,  when  I  threw  the 
lightest  of  muslin  across  my  face  to  keep  off  the  mosquitoes 


A  POLICE  EDICT.— IN  THE  BAZAAR.  353 

and  sand-flies,  in  half  a  minute  I  began  to  feel  symptoms 
of  apoplexy;  and,  as  a  rule,  I  preferred  the  persecution 
of  winged  tormentors  to  existence,  so  far  as  sensation  was 
concerned,  in  a  perpetual  hammam. 

I  recollect  a  Minister  of  Police  in  Constantinople  level- 
ling an  edict  against  the  bright-coloured  mantles  of  the 
Stamboul  ladies,  and  warning  them,  under  pain  of  a  heavy 
fine,  to  have  their  external  shroud-like  envelope  of  becom- 
ingly sober  tints.  In  Teheran  he  would  have  had  nothing 
but  applause  for  the  parallel  garments  of  the  Persian  ladies. 
Without  exception  they  are  dark-leaden  blue  in  colour.  He 
would  not  have  any  reason  to  express  disapprobation  of 
chaussure  a  la  Franqaise.  He  would  find,  in  the  Persian 
capital,  the  ugliest  of  Asiatic  shoes.  In  the  bazaar,  so  far  as 
outer  garments  are  concerned,  a  lady  of  quality  is  indistin- 
guishable from  the  humblest  of  the  three  or  four  hand- 
maidens who  walk  behind  her.  She  is  also  frequently  accom- 
panied by  a  couple  of  ugly-looking  black  or  white  men,  whose 
general  physiognomy  bespeaks  their  qualifications.  The 
women  of  the  humbler  classes  are  generally  quite  alone. 
Sometimes  one  meets  a  white  ass  as  big  as  an  ordinary 
horse,  mounted  by  a  man-servant  having  before  him  on  the 
saddle  some  child  of  a  person  of  position.  The  ass  is 
caparisoned  like  a  bull  dedicated  to  Jupiter  Capitolinus,  and 
everybody  is  expected  to  make  way  for  him.  All  through 
the  bazaar  there  is  a  general  rush.  Every  person  seems 
bent  on  getting  to  his  destination  in  the  shortest  possible 
time.  How  unlike  the  stately  long-robed  Oriental  of  our 
early  imaginings  !  Sometimes  a  whole  flight  of  diminutive 
grey  asses  comes  charging  through  the  narrow  thorough- 
fares, laden  with  bricks  and  tiles  scarcely  cold,  and  rushing 
on  as  if  the  man  who  screams  and  yells  incontinently 
behind  them  were  Shaitan  in  person.  Occasionally  the 
foot  passengers  are  obliged  to  take  refuge  within  the  pre- 

vol.  1.  A  A 


3S4  OLD  ASD  SEW  TEHERAN. 

cincts  of  the  lateral  shops,  as  a  mule  or  gigantic  ass, 
laden  on  each  side  with  enormous  bundles  of  hay,  comes 
trotting  through,  filling  up  the  passage ;  and  sometimes  a 
train  of  sardonically  smiling  camels  stalk  past,  appropriat- 
ing all  the  road  to  themselves. 

Teheran,  with  its  telegraphs  and  police,  its  M.  Schindler 
and  Count  de  Monteforte,  is  no  longer  the  remote  Eastern 
capital  that  Marco  Polo  might  have  hinted  at,  or  some  stray 
adventurous  traveller  have  mentioned  in  his  impression*  de 
voyage.  There  may  be  holes  two-  feet  square  in  the 
thoroughfares  which  flank  the  King's  palace,  and  at  the 
bottom  of  which,  at  unknown  depths,  run  hidden  water- 
courses ;  there  may  be  rumours  afloat  that  the  half-dozen 
thieves  who  stole  the  Shah's  regalia  from  the  old  man  who 
was  conveying  them  to  the  jeweller  are  to  be  blown  from 
the  mouths  of  the  guns  in  the  main  square  (for  which 
civilised  form  of  punishment  the  King  might  claim  a  well- 
known  precedent) ;  but,  practically  speaking,  Teheran,  with 
its  Italian  police,  its  Austrian-trained  soldiery,  its  Russian- 
taught  Cossacks,  its  macadamised  thoroughfares,  its  electric 
light,  and  its  two  cafes,  has  ceased  to  belong  to  the  realms 
of  romance. 

"While  staying  in  the  capital  I  had  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  the  Shah  proceed  in  state  to  visit  his  First  Minister. 
This  functionary  combines  in  himself  the  offices  of  Minister 
for  Foreign  Affairs  and  for  War ;  but  he  is,  in  reality,  Prime 
Minister.  Formerly,  indeed,  he  bore  that  designation.  As 
he  was,  however,  instrumental  in  causing  Baron  Reuter's 
contract  with  regard  to  the  Persian  railways  and  mines  to 
be  accepted,  a  powerful  coalition  of  the  Court  party  was 
formed  against  him,  and  the  Shah  was  compelled  to  dismiss 
him  from  authority.  Another  Minister  of  the  same  mental 
calibre,  and  equally  pleasing  to  the  chief  of  the  State, 
apparently  could  not  be  found,  and  Hussein  Khan  was 


SHAIPS   VISIT  TO  HIS  FIRST  MINISTER.  355 

accordingly  placed  in  his  old  position,  and  made  Premier 
in  all  but  name,  no  one,  even  nominally,  holding  that  title. 
Though  daily  in  contact  with  his  Minister,  the  Shah 
annually  pays  him  three  public  visits,  to  do  him  honour, 
the  entire  royal  household,  as  well  as  the  Sovereign,  being 
entertained  at  dinner. 

From  the  door  of  the  house  where  the  Shah  was  staying 
to  the  mansion  of  the  Minister,  a  distance  of  over  a  mile, 
the  thoroughfare  was  lined  with  troops.  Though  these 
soldiers  had  taken  up  their  position  at  six  in  the  morning, 
the  Shah  did  not  appear  until  nearly  twelve  o'clock.  About 
half-past  eleven,  sundry  old-fashioned  carriages,  drawn  by 
a  pair  of  horses  each,  and  driven  by  nondescript-looking 
coachmen,  who  to  all  appearance  might  have  been  royal 
scullions  in  undisguised  professional  costume,  were  seen 
moving  outside  the  ranks  of  the  troops,  in  the  direction  of 
the  Minister's  residence.  These  vehicles  contained  some 
of  the  principal  harem  favourites,  and  were  preceded  by 
a  crowd  of  men  in  ordinary  Persian  civilian  costume,  beat- 
ing the  air  and  the  ground  with  long  ozier  rods,  and 
vociferating  to  the  bystanders  to  '  be  blind '  and  to  turn 
their  faces  to  the  wall,  lest  by  any  ill-luck  they  might  catch 
sight  of  any  of  the  '  lights  of  the  harem.'  The  arrival  of 
the  monarch  was  heralded  by  a  number  of  mounted  police- 
men, who  dashed  along  the  ranks  in  an  altogether  unneces- 
sarily impetuous  manner.  These  police,  organised  by  the 
Count  de  Monteforte,  an  Italian  officer,  who  had  arrived  at 
Teheran  two  years  previously,  and  who,  I  understand,  had 
formerly  been  chief  of  police  in  the  service  of  the  ex-King 
of  Naples,  are  very  creditably  got  up,  and  seem  very  efficient 
in  maintaining  order  in  the  capital.  They  wear  black 
tunics,  with  violet  facings  on  collars  and  cuffs,  and  a  stripe 
of  the  same  colour  down  the  dark  trousers.  A  small  black 
cylindrical  shako  and  long  boots  complete  the  costume. 

Al2 


356  SHAHS  RUNNING  FOOTMEN. 

The  foot  police  carry  short  sabres  made  on  a  European 
model,  those  of  the  mounted  men  being  longer.  After  the 
police  came  thirty  horsemen  bearing  large  silver  maces ; 
and,  behind  these,  about  a  hundred  others  armed  with 
sabres  and  having  double-barrelled  fowling-pieces  and  old- 
fashioned  Persian  muskets  slung  at  their  backs.  All  these 
people  were  dressed  very  plainly  in  sombre-coloured  civilian 
costumes.  To  these  succeeded  some  fifty  oddly-costumed 
persons,  proceeding  at  a  trot  on  either  side  of  the  way. 
They  were  the  King's  running  footmen.  When  I  first  saw 
these  royal  acolytes,  I  took  them  to  be  street  mountebanks. 
Half-a-dozen  were  sitting  down  on  the  kerbstone  near  the 
royal  gate.  Knowing  that  in  the  East  such  people  always 
seek  out  Europeans  as  victims,  I  hastily  went  round  a 
corner,  lest  one  of  them  should  stand  on  his  head  for  my 
benefit.  Each  of  them  wore  a  rather  long-skirted  red 
tunic,  ornamented  with  a  few  scraps  of  gold  lace  sewn 
horizontally  on  the  breast ;  a  pair  of  dark  knee-breeches, 
white  cotton  stockings,  and  shoes  with  buckles  and  rosettes. 
The  oddest  part  of  the  costume  was  the  hat.  It  was  of 
black  glazed  leather,  and  something  like  a  fireman's  helmet 
developing  into  a  lancer's  casque,  or  the  head-dress  worn 
by  the  eccentric  pencil-merchant  in  Paris  some  years  ago, 
who  drove  about  the  streets  in  a  carriage  selling  his  wares. 
From  the  centre  and  forward  and  rear  ends  of  the  tall, 
straight  crest,  rise  three  bunches  of  red  artificial  flowers, 
made  to  resemble  sweet-william  blossoms.  These  are 
fixed  on  long  stems,  the  centre  one  being  the  tallest,  and 
all  three  nodding  comically  with  every  movement  of  the 
head  of  the  wearer.  When  the  Shah  appears  in  public,  he 
is  invariably  accompanied  by  these  attendants,  who  run  in 
front  of,  behind,  and  on  either  side  of  his  horse  or  carriage. 
In  the  midst  of  them  rode  a  group  of  forty  or  fifty  of  the 
highest  dignitaries  of  the  State,  including  the  First  Minister 


THE  SHAH  AND  HIS   UMBRELLA.  357 

and  the  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  army — the  Hessem  el 
Seltaneh,  or  '  Sword  of  the  Kingdom.'  All  these  function- 
aries were  dressed  very  plainly.  At  their  head  rode  the 
Shah  himself,  if  possible  more  plainly  attired  than  the  other 
members  of  the  group.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  crimson 
umbrella  which  he  carried  open  above  his  head,  I  should 
have  been  unable  to  distinguish  him.  As  I  saw  him,  he 
appeared  a  much  younger  and  handsomer  man  than  his 
photograph  would  lead  one  to  believe.  Perhaps  this  was 
the  result  of  the  glow  cast  by  the  red  umbrella.  Behind 
him  came  an  immense  concourse  of  horsemen,  presumably 
belonging  to  the  royal  household,  followed  by  the  closed 
carriage  which  I  have  already  described  as  resembling  the 
Lord  Mayor's  coach,  resplendent  with  plate-glass  and 
battered  gilding.  Next  came  some  led  horses,  splendidly 
caparisoned;  and  a  body  of  police  closed  the  procession, 
the  oddest  part  of  which  consisted  of  the  apes  and  baboons 
led  along  by  their  keepers,  and  intended  to  amuse  the 
ladies  of  the  harem.  A  new  feature — new  for  Persia,  that 
is — was  introduced  into  the  scene ;  viz.  the  scattering  of 
flowers  along  the  roadway  in  front  of  the  Shah.  One  would 
have  expected  that  children,  or  at  least  some  tolerably 
good-looking  persons,  would  have  performed  this  graceful 
act.  Instead,  there  were  two  ugly  old  men,  whose  ordinary 
avocation  was  to  throw  water  from  the  leather  bags  which 
they  carried  on  their  backs  in  order  to  allay  the  dust  when 
the  Shah  passed,  and  who,  having  first  performed  the  more 
useful  portions  of  their  duties,  were  now  hurrying  about 
with  articles  resembling  wooden  coal-scuttles  under  their 
arms,  scattering  in  a  very  business-like  and  unpoetical 
manner  what  looked  like  the  sweepings  of  a  nursery  garden. 
His  Majesty  certainly  enjoyed  whatever  physical  advantage 
might  accrue  from  walking  over  vegetable  matter.  The  alle- 
gorical element  of  the  ceremony  was  decidedly  in  abeyance. 


358  PERSIAN  CONCEIT. 

I  have  only  to  add  a  few  concluding  remarks  about 
Teheran.  The  attempt  to  engraft  European  modes  and 
procedures  in  the  heart  of  a  thoroughly  Asiatic  people 
promises  well.  The  Shah  has  certainly  done  his  best  in 
the  face  of  the  accumulated  inertia  of  centuries,  but  even 
his  nominally  unlimited  authority  has  occasionally  to  recoil 
before  the  prejudices  of  a  people.  Still,  it  is  to  be  hoped 
that,  surrounded  as  the  nation  is  by  nineteenth-century 
process,  something  will  in  the  end  be  done.  Every  nation 
has  its  own  self-conceit,  and  is  apt  to  consider  itself  as  at 
bottom  the  best.  It  is  only  an  embodiment  of  the  in- 
dividual. The  Persian  says:  'The  Arabic  is  the  best 
language '  (even  though  it  was  Omar  who  first  introduced  it 
at  the  point  of  the  sword) ;  '  it  is  a  science  to  know  the 
Turkish  language '  (this  is  an  indirect  tribute  to  the 
prowess  of  the  Turk  in  the  past) ;  '  the  Persian  tongue  is 
like  music ;  all  the  rest  are  as  the  bray  of  an  ass.'  A 
young  Persian  officer,  one  of  those  modelled  on  the  new 
Austrian  system,  and  who  spoke  English  and  French  very 
fairly,  was  complaining  to  me  that  the  Shah  had  given 
orders  relative  to  the  summer  encampment  of  the  troops, 
in  which  each  subaltern  was  limited  to  one  servant.  I 
ventured  to  remark  that  I  had  recently  been  in  the  Bussian 
camp  at  Tchikislar  and  along  the  line  of  the  Atterek,  and 
that  each  subaltern  officer  was  quite  content  with  one 
servant.  '  Oh,'  said  he,  '  that  is  a  different  matter ;  we, 
the  Persian  officers,  are  gentlemen ! ' 

I  have  already  explained  how  I  was  from  time  to  time 
foiled  in  all  my  efforts  to  accompany  the  march  of  the 
Russian  expeditionary  force.  When  Tergukasoff,  who 
succeeded  to  the  command  on  the  death  of  the  brave  old 
Lazareff,  arrived,  I  was  allowed  to  go  to  the  front  once  more, 
but  no  further  than  Ghatte.  There  I  met  the  retiring 
columns,  and  was  invited  to  accompany  them  to  Tchikislar. 


A  PRELIMINARY  EXPLANATION.  359 

I  need  scarcely  say  that  under  the  circumstances  an  '  invi- 
tation '  was  little  less  than  a  command.  I  accepted  it,  and 
was  on  my  arrival  at  the  Caspian  seaboard  '  invited  *  to  go 
further  west.  The  circumstances  of  my  refusal  to  proceed 
any  further  in  the  required  direction,  and  of  my  journey 
across  the  Atterek  delta  to  Asterabad,  will  be  in  the 
recollection  of  the  reader.  I  knew  that,  sooner  or  later,  an 
outward  movement  would  be  made  by  the  Bussian  troops  ; 
and,  while  always  cherishing  the  hope  that  I  should  be  re- 
admitted to  the  camp,  I  thought  well  to  take  precautions, 
in  order  to  be  in  a  position  to  see  the  fighting  from  another 
side,  if  still  refused  by  the  Czar's  generals.  On  arriving  at 
Teheran  I  was  courteously  invited  to  stay  at  the  British 
Legation.  I  ca'led  upon  Mr.  Zinovieff,  the  Bussian 
Minister,  whom  I  had  met  at  Erasnavodsk,  at  a  ball  given 
by  General  Lomakin,  then  the  governor  of  that  garrison, 
and  afterwards  commander  in  the  ill-starred  combat  of 
Geok  Tepe.  I  told  him  that  I  had  been  obliged  to  quit 
Tchikislar,  and  that  on  two  subsequent  occasions,  when  I 
ventured  to  return,  I  had  again  been  summarily  compelled 
to  leave.  I  enquired  whether  he  could  use  any  influence  in 
favour  of  my  being  allowed  to  rejoin  the  camp.  He  replied 
that  the  matter  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  new  com- 
mander-in-chief, General  Skobeleff,  and  advised  me  to  apply 
to  that  officer.  I  immediately  despatched  the  following 
telegram :  '  Son  Excellence  le  General  Skobeleff,  a  Baku. 
— Voulez-vous  me  permettre  accompagner  Texp6dition  de 
Tchikislar  comme  Correspondant  du  "  Daily  News "  de 
Londres  ? '  In  two  days  I  received  a  reply  :  *  O'Donovan, 
Teheran. — Ayant  les  ordres  lea  plus  positifs  de  ne  pas 
permettre  a  aucun  correspondant,  ni  Busse,  ni  etranger, 
d'accompagner  F expedition,  il  m'est  &  mon  grand  regret  im- 
possible d'obtemperer  a  votre  demande. — Skobeleff/  This 
reply,  dated  from  Erasnavodsk,  was  of  course  decisive,  and 


3&>  AN  INVITATION. 

led  me  to  believe  that  the  Kussian  Minister  was  mistaken 
when  he  said  that  the  matter  rested  entirely  in  the  hands 
of  the  general  commanding  the  expedition.  I  telegraphed 
to  Skobeleff  thanking  him  for  the  courteous  promptitude  of 
his  answer,  concluding  my  message  with  the  words  'Au 
revoir  a  Merv,'  as  I  was  resolved,  if  possible,  to  be  there 
before  the  Eussian  troops  could  reach  it.  I  then  took 
measures  to  facilitate  my  journey  to  some  point  on  the 
north-eastern  frontier  of  Persia,  from  whence  I  could  gain  the 
Akhal  Tekke  region  and  Merv.  I  applied  to  his  Highness 
Hussein  Khan  Sipah  Salar  Aazem,  the  acting  Grand  Vizier, 
for  permission  to  go  along  the  frontier,  and  if  necessary  to 
penetrate  into  the  country  of  the  Akhal  Tekke  Turcomans. 
I  received  a  most  courteous  reply,  to  the  effect  that  the 
minister  was  most  willing  to  give  me  the  necessary  pass, 
but  that  he  could  not  guarantee  my  personal  safety  outside 
the  Persian  dominions.  As  I  had  not  asked  him  to  do  this 
latter,  I  thought  that  his  courtesy  savoured  of  superfluity. 
He  wound  up  by  saying,  '  Although  you  have  been  for  a 
long  time  in  Persia,  and  several  days  at  Teheran,  I  have  not 
yet  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  a  visit  from  you.'  I  was 
satisfied  to  take  the  hint  as  an  invitation  to  visit  his  High- 
ness, and  went  accordingly. 

After  a  lengthened  progress  over  ill-set  pavements,  and 
between  high  scorching  walls  of  unbaked  brick  (i.e.  mud), 
I  arrived  at  an  enclosure,  amid  which,  high-reared,  stood 
an  unshapely  mass  of  buildings  with  high  gables.  Broad 
bands  of  blue  enamelled  tiles  stretched  across  the  front ; 
otherwise,  and  excepting  the  gates,  it  had  no  more  pretence 
to  architecture  than  any  other  building  in  Teheran.  There 
were  crowds  of  what  we  should  term  '  hangers-on '  within 
the  yard,  to  which  a  broken-down  arch  gave  admittance. 
They  seemed  annoyed  by  my  arrival,  and  evidently  thought 
me  a  needless  addition  to  their  number,  until  M.  le  Baron 


INTERVIEW  WITH  SIP  AH  SALAR  AAZEM.      361 

Norman,  the  most  courteous  and  courtier-like  of  secretaries, 
coming  to  meet  me,  ushered  me  into  a  vast  hall,  spread 
with  rich  Persian  carpets.  It  was  divided  into  two  parts  by 
a  couple  of  steps  reaching  along  its  whole  breadth.  In  the 
lower  half  was  a  large  tank  of  water  some  fifteen  feet  by 
twelve.  In  a  few  minutes  I  was  seated  at  a  small  table  vis- 
a-vis with  the  person  whom  ordinary  rumour,  native  as 
well  as  European,  indicated  as  the  ablest  man  in  Persia. 
Previously  to  his  accession  to  his  high  dignity,  he  had 
been  ambassador  at  Constantinople  and  other  Courts,  and 
had  accompanied  the  Shah  during  his  two  visits  to 
Europe.  He  received  me  most  affably.  He  merely  pointed 
out  the  great  difficulties  and  dangers  of  such  an  emprise 
as  I  proposed  to  take  upon  myself.  He  said  that  the 
Turcomans  of  the  Akhal  Tekk6  and  Merv  were  no  better 
than  they  should  be.  I  made  allusion  to  the  delegates  from 
Merv  still  resident  at  Teheran — delegates  who  had  come  to 
ask  the  Shah  to  admit  their  compatriots  as  Persian  subjects, 
so  that  they  might  thus  have  some  appeal  against  Bussian 
invasion.  He  said  there  was  but  little  hope  of  their  prayer 
being  heard.  *  The  Akhal  Tekke  and  Merv  Turcomans  have 
so  often  entered  into  arrangements  with  us,  and  have  so  often 
broken  them,  that  we  can  place  no  reliance  on  what  they 
say.'  '  Then/  I  remarked,  '  I  suppose  the  Tekk6s  are 
abandoned  to  Russia,  as  far  as  Persia  goes  ? '  '  Not  that 
exactly/  he  said ;  '  we  shall  of  course  always  try  to  do  some- 
thing.' He  then  spoke  about  my  private  affairs.  He  was 
willing  to  give  mo  the  necessary  safeguard  up  to  the  frontiers 
of  Persia.  Where  these  frontiers  were  he  could  not  exactly 
define;  and  he  referred  me  to  the  British  Minister  for 
details  on  the  subject.  This  was  rather  comical,  for  Persia 
had  always  laid  claim  to  Merv  as  one  of  its  dependencies. 
There  was  no  fixed  frontier  except  the  line  of  the  Atterek, 
from  its  mouth  up  to  Chatte,  and  for  a  short  distance  beyond 


36a  SUSPICIONS. 

that  post  along  the  Sumbar  river.  All  the  rest  was  matter 
for  speculation.  Now,  of  course,  there  is  a  definite  frontier 
along  the  ridges  of  the  Kopet  Dagh,  but  even  this  merges 
into  the  customary  vagueness  at  its  eastern  extremity.  I 
had  always  been  of  opinion  that  the  Atterek  frontier  required 
accurate  definition,  in  order  to  avoid  its  being  made  a 
source  of  endless  trouble.  My  general  impression,  when  I 
left  the  presence  of  the  Sipah  Salar,  apart  from  that  result- 
ing from  experience  gained  elsewhere,  was  that  Persia  was 
in  mo  wise  jealous  of  Bussian  intrusion  into  the  southern 
independent  Khanates,  even  if  she  were  not  quite  favourable 
to  such  a  movement. 

Being,  then,  on  the  point  of  undertaking  what  would 
seem  to  most  people  the  very  hare-brained  mission  of 
visiting  the  Tekkes  chez  eux,  the  perils  attendant  on  which 
seemed  altogether  out  of  proportion  to  the  avowed  object, 
and  as  many,  in  spite  of  my  assurance  to  the  contrary, 
insisted  on  attributing  to  it  a  political  significance,  I  was 
obliged,  repeatedly,  to  explain  at  length  the  circumstances 
which  had  led  up  to  my  determination.  Shortly  after  my 
interview  with  the  Bussian  Minister,  a  gentleman  whom  I  had 
formerly  known  in  connection  with  the  Bussian  expedition — 
a  Montenegrin,  who,  according  to  all  accounts,  had  conducted 
himself  most  bravely  in  the  affair  at  Geok  Tepe — called  on 
me  at  the  British  Legation,  and  told  me  that  the  Bussian 
Minister  had  stated  to  him  that  my  going  among  the  Merv 
Turcomans  as  the  correspondent  of  the  '  Daily  News '  was 
only  a  pretence,  and  that,  in  reality,  I  was  an  agent  of  the 
British  Government,  going  to  encourage  the  Turcomans,  if 
not  with  actual  assistance  in  the  shape  of  funds,  at  least  by 
my  presence.  Through  the  person  who  conveyed  to  me  this 
intelligence,  as  well  as  through  Colonel  Demontovitch  of 
the  Persian  Cossacks,  I  begged  to  assure  the  Bussian 
Minister  that  he  was  mistaken,  and  that  my  errand  was 


PERMISSION  TO  START.  363 

purely  and  simply  that  which  I  had  the  honour  to  announce 
to  him.  Occasionally,  when  it  is  convenient  to  believe  a 
certain  thing,  it  is  difficult  to  disabuse  the  minds  of  interested 
parties.  Should  these  lines  meet  the  eyes  of  any  Bussian 
Government  officials,  they  will  understand  that  the  reason  I 
threw  in  my  lot  with  the  Turcomans  was,  that  the  Czar's 
generals  had,  so  to  speak,  shut  the  door  in  my  face,  and  that 
I  proceeded  to  my  new  destination  only  as  a  newspaper  corre- 
spondent, and  as  neither  more  nor  less  of  a  combatant  than  I 
was  when  I  had  the  honour  to  be  the  recipient  of  Bussian 
hospitality.  While  regretting  that  I  could  not  be  present 
to  witness  the  achievements  of  the  Bussian  soldiers  during 
the  then  impending  campaign,  I  consoled  myself  with  the 
hope  that  I  should  witness  fighting  in  Central  Asia  from  an 
unaccustomed  standpoint.  I  hoped  that  these  explanations, 
which  I  gave  at  Teheran  to  all  parties  concerned,  would 
secure  me  in  the  future  from  the  inuendoes  and  hints  to 
which  my  ear  had  for  a  considerable  time  been  accustomed. 
I  duly  received  from  the  Sipah  Salar  the  written  per- 
mission for  which  I  had  applied,  and  which  purported  to 
enable  me  to  visit  the  extreme  north-eastern  limits  of  the 
Persian  dominions.  Dr.  Tholozan,  the  Shah's  physician, 
also  gave  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to  an  influential  border 

■ 

chieftain,  the  Emir  Hussein  Khan,  governor  of  Kuchan,  so 
that  I  was  quite  hopeful  of  successfully  carrying  out  my 
intentions. 

At  this  time  the  military  situation  was  as  follows : — 
Since  the  then  recent  death  of  Noor  Berdi  Khan,  the 
recognised  chief  of  the  Tekk6  Turcomans,  no  other  leader 
of  similar  influence  seemed  to  have  come  to  the  surface. 
One  of  his  sons  was  reported  to  have  assumed  the  leader- 
ship ;  but  we  had  yet  to  learn  his  capability  for  the  difficult 
position  the  duties  of  which  he  had  undertaken.  Some 
there  were  who  prophesied  a  general  breaking-up  of  the 


364  THE  MILITARY  SITUATION. 

entire  Tekk6  coalition,  and  a  speedy  submission  to  Russian 
rule,  now  that  the  man  who  had  been  the  life  and  soul  of 
the  movement  was  no  more.  This,  however,  was  open  to 
question.  The  Tekk6s  had  been  from  time  immemorial 
governed  by  a  medjlis,  or  council,  of  chiefs  and  elders  ;  never 
at  any  time  by  emirs  or  sovereigns,  like  those  of  Khiva, 
Bokhara,  &c.  The  governing  element,  at  the  moment,  it 
was  only  natural  to  believe,  was  quite  as  equal  to  its 
mission  as  formerly,  and  it  was  not  at  all  impossible,  or 
even  unlikely,  that  circumstances  would  push  to  the  front 
some  one  of  the  many  competent  leaders  who  of  a  necessity 
should  exist  in  the  ranks  of  such  a  universally  warlike 
people.  We  had  just  heard  that  a  general  retrograde 
movement  of  the  Turcomans  in  the  north-western  portion 
of  the  oasis  had  taken  place ;  those  occupying  Bami  and 
Beurma,  and  other  positions  of  the  same  kind,  having  re- 
treated further  eastward.  About  the  same  date  in  the 
previous  year  a  similar  movement  was  made,  which  proved 
to  be  one  of  concentration  on  Geok  Tepe,  or  Yengi  Sheher, 
as  it  is  more  properly  designated — a  piece  of  strategy  which 
ended  in  the  signal  defeat  of  the  Russian  attacking  column. 
The  movement  which  had  just  been  made  I  judged  to  be  in 
all  likelihood  of  a  similar  nature;  and  I  thought  at  the 
time  that  it  might  also  have  something  to  do  with  the 
rumoured  advent  of  a  Russian  column  from  the  direction  of 
Khiva. 

The  heat  was  beginning  to  be  intense,  and,  eager 
though  I  was  to  be  present  at  the  scene  of  conflict,  I  looked 
forward  with  but  little  pleasure  to  the  long  march  which 
awaited  me  before  I  could  reach  the  desired  ground. 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  ROAD.  3*5 


CHAPTEE  XXIL 

TEHERAN   TO  AGHIVAN. 

Preparing  for  a  journey — Mr.  Arnold's  servant — Posting  in  Persia — •  Towers 
of  Silence ' — Evan  Keif — Old  police-stations — Kishlak — Mud  architecture 
— Shab-gez — A  tough  fowl — Gratuities — Outlying  telegraph  station — 
Deep-cut  stream  beds — Irrigation — Fortified  mounds — An  old  palace — 
Persian  graves — Gathering  the  harvest — A  useful  custom — Benevolent 
lying — Deh  Memek — Towers  of  refuge — Terrace  irrigation — Castled 
mound  of  Lasgird — Lugubrious  quarters — Pursued  by  the  mail — An 
adventure  with  Afghans — A  precipitate  flight — Semnan — Extensive 
cemeteries — A  quick  ride  to  Aghivan. 

Provided  with  the  Sipah  Salar  Aazem's  pass,  and  Dr. 
Tholozan's  letter  of  introduction,  I  set  about  making  my 
final  preparations  for  journeying  eastward  towards  the  long 
looked-for  goal.  I  was  assured  on  every  side  that  the 
Russians  intended  to  move  as  early  as  possible,  and  it  was 
more  than  once  hinted  that  I  should  probably  be  too  late 
upon  the  ground  to  witness  the  closing  operations  of  the 
campaign.  I  was  further  informed  that,  in  view  of  the  death 
of  Noor  Berdi  Khan,  the  Tekkes  would  not  attempt  to  offer 
any  resistance  to  the  invading  force,  and  that  a  visit  to  the 
scene  of  action  would  involve  a  certain  amount  of  misspent 
energy  and  time.  Had  I  been  less  resolved  than  I  was 
upon  penetrating  into  the  Turcoman  region,  the  discourage- 
ment I  met  with  would  have  been  more  than  sufficient  to 
induce  me  to  abandon  the  enterprise  upon  which  I  had  set 
my  mind.  However,  I  said  to  myself,  '  I  will  do  my  best, 
and,  if  I  fail,  so  much  the  worse.'  I  telegraphed  to  my 
servant  at  Asterabad,  instructing  him  to  start  immediately 


366  POSTING  IN  PERSIA. 

for  Shahrood,  and  to  meet  me  at  that  place  with  my  horses 
and  baggage,  which  I  had  left  behind  me  on  starting  for 
Teheran.  I  next  hired,  at  Teheran,  a  Persian  servant, 
whose  credentials  included  some  strong  recommendations 
from  former  English  travellers,  among  them  being  one  from 
Mr.  Arnold,  who  has  written  a  detailed  account  of  his 
journey  from  Resht  to  the  Persian  Gulf.  The  sequel  will 
show  how  very  little  he  deserved  the  good  character  given 
to  him. 

Having  procured  the  necessary  order  for  post-horses,  in 
the  afternoon  of  June  6,  1880, 1  rode  out  of  Gulahec,  the 
summer  residence  of  the  Persian  Minister,  and  bent  my 
course  towards  Teheran,   some  eight  miles  distant,  and 
through  which  lay  my  road  eastward.    I  was   so  much 
delayed  in  the  bazaar  making  some  purchases  necessary  for 
my  journey  that  it  was  nearly  sunrise  on  the  following 
morning  before  I  was  able  to  start  on  my  road  to  the  borders 
of  the  Tekk6  country.     There  were  regular  relays  of  post- 
horses  along  the  entire  road  as  far  as  Meshed.     The  stations 
at  which  fresh  horses  are  procurable  are  from  six  to  eight 
farsakhs  (twenty-four  to  thirty-two  miles)  apart,  and  the 
amount  charged  is  one  kran  (franc)  per  farsakh  for  each 
horse.    One  is  also  obliged  to  pay  at  the  same  rate  for  the 
horse  of  the  post  courier  who  accompanies  him.     One  is 
allowed  to  travel  continuously ;  day  and"  night  if  he  be 
equal  to  it;  and  the  ground  could  be  got  over  rapidly 
enough  were  horses  always  forthcoming  at  the  stations,  and 
were  they  always  in  proper  condition  for  the  road.     There 
are  eleven  stations  between  Teheran  and   Shahrood,  the 
entire  distance  being  seventy  farsakhs,  or  two  hundred  and 
eighty-four  miles. 

Leaving  Teheran,  the  traveller  rides  in  a  south-easterly 
direction  across  an  arid,  stony  plain,  interspersed  here  and 
there  with  gardens  and  ruined  mud  buildings,  and  traversed 


TOWERS  OF  SILENCE.— EVAN  KEIF.  367 

by  numerous  tiny  irrigation  canals,  offshoots  of  the  various 
kanota  or  underground  passages  leading  from  the  girding 
hills.  Five  or  six  miles  from  the  town  the  road  ascends 
gently,  and  passes  through  a  bare,  rocky  gorge.  To  the 
right  arfe  the  '  towers  of  silence  '—the  burying-places  of  the 
Guebres  or  Fire  Worshippers,  very  many  of  whom  are  to 
be  found  at  Teheran.  All  the  gardeners  employed  in  the 
gardens  of  the  British  Legation  belong  to  this  sect.  The 
' towers  of  silence'  consist  of  some  low  circular  stone 
buildings,  having  at  the  top  an  iron  grating.  The  dead 
bodies  are  laid  on  this  grating,  where  they  either  decompose 
gradually  or  are  devoured  by  birds .  of  prey,  the  bones 
ultimately  dropping  through  the  grating  into  a  cavity  within 
the  tower.  The  road  next  enters  a  vast  plain,  studded  at 
long  intervals  with  small  wooded  gardens  enclosed  within 
tall  mud  walls  flanked  by  circular  towers.  Within  each  of 
these  series  of  walls  are  the  few  flat-topped  mud  houses  which 
constitute  a  Persian  village.  Between  these  little  blooming 
oases  the  ground  is  waste  and  barren,  all  the  more  re- 
pulsively so  in  contrast  with  such  tantalising  spots  of 
verdure.  With  an  adequate  water  supply  vast  districts, 
now  hopelessly  drear  and  desert,  might  be  covered  with 
wood  and  pasture.  Some  thirty  miles  from  Teheran  is  a 
large  caravanserai  of  brick  and  stone,  near  which  are  the 
extensive  ruins  of  old  buildings  of  unbaked  brick.  A  pretty 
considerable  stream  crosses  the  plain,  to  lose  itself,  like 
similar  watercourses  here,  in  the  burning  waste  of  the  vast 
salt  desert  beyond.  Scattered  along  its  banks  were  the 
black,  low  tents  of  a  small  encampment  of  nomads — 
probably  Kurds. 

We  changed  horses  at  a  place  called  Evan  Keif,  a 
miserable,  burnt-up  kind  of  village,  like  all  places,  great 
or  small,  along  this  route,  which  are  composed  of  square- 
topped  mud  houses.    A  little  farther  on  is  a  vast  expanse 


368     A  DANGEROUS  STREAM.— A  ROCKY  GORGE. 

of  water- tossed  boulders  and  rounded  pebbles — across  which 
the  floods  formed  by  the  melting  snows  of  the  Elburz  find 
their  way  to  the  salt  desert.  By  various  dams  and  embank- 
ments the  water  was  divided  into  at  least  forty  different 
channels,  some  filled  by  deep  and  rapid  torrents  by  no 
means  easy  to  cross.  The  postman  pointed  out  a  spot, 
near  which  we  forded  one  of  these  streams,  where  some 
travellers  had  been  swept  away  and  drowned  a  short  time 
previously.  To  this  many-branched  stream  succeeds  a 
high  stony  plateau  seamed  by  the  huge,  deep  beds  of  ancient 
streams,  and  then  the  road  begins  to  mount  the  slopes  of 
an  outlying  mountain  spur.  In  the  plain  the  heat  was 
excessive,  but  here,  on  the  rising  ground,  a  rather  cold  wind 
blew,  and  soon  we  got  into  the  midst  of  a  very  disagreeable 
fog,  while  smart  light  showers  fell  occasionally.  Another 
hour's  riding  brought  us  to  the  entrance  of  a  rocky  gorge 
running  between  tall  cliffs  of  gypsum  and  ferruginous  rock. 
The  entrance  had  formerly  been  guarded  by  a  stone  fort,  a 
Karaaul  hane,  or  police  post,  now  completely  in  ruins,  and 
further  on  were  the  remains  of  what  must  have  been  an 
important  stronghold,  evidently  of  very  ancient  date.  In 
fact,  from  this  point  forward,  at  every  two  or  three  miles, 
we  came  upon  the  remains  of  posts  formerly  established  to 
prevent  the  incursions  of  the  Turcomans  by  this  convenient 
mountain  pass,  which  is  about  twelve  miles  in  length, 
and  traversed  by  a  stream,  whose  waters  are,  how- 
ever, rather  unpalatable,  owing  to  the  amount  of  decom- 
posed gypsum  which  they  contain.  The  pass  suddenly 
widens  out  at  its  eastern  end,  and  debouches  on  a  vast 
plain,  the  hills  to  the  southward  retiring  so  much  as  shortly 
to  be  only  faintly  visible  on  the  horizon  in  that  direction. 
The  plain  is  very  well  watered,  and  the  villages  are  numerous 
and  large — all  of  them  well  defended  by  mud  ramparts  and 
towers.     So  numerous  were  the  irrigation   streams  that 


KISHLAK.—MUD  ARCHITECTURE.  369 

they  rendered  travelling  on  horseback  exceedingly  disagree- 
able, especially  as,  the  corn  being  then  ripe,  the  water  no 
longer  required  for  the  fields  is  turned  at  random  into  the 
plain,  forming  morasses  and  mud  holes,  which  extend  far 
and  wide,  and  often  render  considerable  detours  necessary. 
It  was  just  sunset  as  we  galloped  into  Eishlak,  our  resting 
place  for  the  night,  having  made  exactly  eighty  miles  since 
morning— not  a  bad  journey  considering  the  nature  and 
condition  of  the  road. 

Within  the  walls  of  this  considerable  village  the  eye  is 
struck  by  the  variety  and  fantastic  style  of  the  mud  edifices. 
The  villagers  seemed  to  be  of  an  architectural  turn  of  mind, 
and,  notwithstanding  the  unfavourable  nature  of  the  avail- 
able material,  had  taken  a  great  deal  of  trouble  in  designing 
and  executing  the  various  cupola  tombs,  the  arched  door- 
ways of  mosques,  and  the  odd-looking  covers  which  protected 
the  numerous  water  cisterns  from  the  sun's  rays.  These 
latter  were  pyramidal  structures,  twenty-five  feet  in  height, 
and  broken  on  the  outside  into  steps,  twenty  inches  wide 
and  high,  the  apex  surmounted  by  a  not  ungraceful  four- 
pillared  kiosk.  In  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  these 
structures  of  unbaked  brick,  plastered  over  with  fine, 
whitish  yellow  loam,  gave  one  the  idea  of  buildings  sculp- 
tured from  single  masses  of  amber-tinted  marble.  The 
chappar  hani,  or  post-house,  was  a  kind  of  citadel  in  itself; 
as  were,  indeed,  most  of  the  buildings.  It  was  surrounded 
by  a  wall  twenty  feet  high,  the  roofs  of  the  stables  within 
constituting  the  ramp  of  the  loopholed  parapet.  At  each 
corner  was  a  projecting  bartizan,  by  which  the  defenders 
would  be  enabled  to  flank  the  walls  and  fire  at  assailants 
close  to  its  foot.  Access  was  given  to  the  place  through 
an  arched  entrance,  closed  by  stout  doors  five  inches  thick, 
and  barred  with  iron.  Above  the  arch  was  a  square- topped 
room  known  as  the  bala  hane,  which  served  as  quarters  for 

VOL.  I.  B  B 


370  ARGA  PERSICA.—AN  AIRY  COUCH. 

the  better  class  of  travellers,  as  well  as  a  kind  of  watch- 
tower  and  look-out  station,  to  be  used  when  the  Turcomans 
were  abroad.  Here  every  man's  house  is  his  castle,  if 
not  in  the  metaphorical  sense,  at  least  thoroughly  so  in 
the  physical  sense,  in  times  of  danger. 

I  have  already  mentioned  the  garrib-gez,  or  shab-gez, 
as  it  is  indifferently  called  (arga  Persiea),  the  insect  which 
is  a  terror  and  often  a  real  danger  to  strangers  travelling 
in  this  part  of  Persia,  and  which  is  known  as  the  '  stranger 
biter,'  or  '  night  biter,'  for  it  does  not  attack  the  inhabitants 
of  the  places  infested  by  it,  and  only  leaves  its  hiding-place 
after  dark.  I  asked  the  postmaster  whether  any  of  these 
pests  were  to  be  found  in  his  establishment,  and  was  in- 
formed with  cheerful  alacrity  that  they  abounded  there.  I 
was  consequently  obliged  to  take  up  my  quarters  on  the 
flat  roof  of  the  bala  hani,  which  during  the  day-time  is  too 
hot  a  spot  for  the  '  stranger  biters,'  and  at  night  too  cold 
for  their  delicate  constitutions.  A  horse-cloth  spread  on 
the  roof  for  a  bed,  and  a  saddle  for  a  pillow,  was  the  only 
sleeping  accommodation  afforded.  I  had  hoped  to  be  able 
to  write  something  before  lying  down  to  sleep,  but  the  smart 
evening  breeze  precluded  the  possibility  of  keeping  a  candle 
lighted.  Accordingly,  having  jotted  down  some  very  brief 
notes  of  my  day's  journey,  I  ate  my  supper  of  fowl  and 
leathery  bread,  such  as  one  finds  throughout  the  East,  and 
mast,  or  coagulated  milk.  This  was  the  only  food  procur- 
able excepting  boiled  rice,  of  which  I  had  devoured  so  much 
during  the  preceding  twelve  months  as  to  be  quite  willing 
to  dispense  with  it  when  any  other  edibles  were  available. 
The  arga  Persiea  is,  it  seems,  a  parasite  on  all  kinds  of 
poultry  in  this  neighbourhood,  abounding  wherever  such 
are  kept,  and  reducing  them  to  a  miserable  state  of  leanness 
and  toughness,  as  I  discovered  to  my  cost  while  endeavour- 
ing to  sup  off  the  cartilaginous  hen  supplied  to  me,  and 


PRESENTS  AND  GRATUITIES.  371 

which  had  been  hunted  down  and  cooked  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment. 

An  hoar  before  sunrise  next  morning  I  was  up  and 
away,  after  having  paid  a  rather  considerable  bill  for  the 
very  slender  accommodation  and  limited  supper  of  the  pre- 
ceding night.  There  were  two  krans  for  being  allowed  to 
sleep  on  the  top  of  the  house ;  one-and-a-half  for  my  steel- 
thewed  rooster  and  bread ;  and  one  kran  as  a  gratification 
to  the  courier  who  accompanied  me  from  Teheran ;  in  all 
three  shillings  and  ninepence— a  very  considerable  sum  in 
such  a  country.  I  have  remarked  that  out  here  people 
seem  not  to  appreciate  the  value  of  money,  probably  because 
they  see  so  little  of  it.  They  expect  in  the  form  of  gratui- 
ties about  six  times  as  much  as  Europeans.  A  good  deal 
of  this  is  owing  to  the  fact  that  inferior  officials  are  but 
miserably  paid,  servants  occasionally  receiving  only  their 
food  from  their  employers,  and  being  supposed  to  indemnify 
themselves  by  extracting  fees  and  gratuities  on  every  pos- 
sible occasion.  A  local  governor  wishes  to  do  you  honour. 
He  sends  you  a  plate  of  fruit  or  sticky  sweetmeats,  value 
about  sixpence.  The  servants — for,  the  greater  the  number 
who  escort  the  'present,'  the  greater  the  honour — must 
receive  each  his  '  anam/  or  present,  in  the  shape  of  a 
couple  of  shillings  or  more,  according  to  the  rank  of  his 
master.  The  latter  thus  has  the  double  advantage  of  con- 
ferring honour  on  the  stranger,  and  at  the  same  time  having 
his  servants  paid.  This  kind  of  thing  obtains  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest  spheres,  and  is  at  the  bottom  of  a 
great  deal  of  the  demoralisation  of  Persian  society. 

The  horses  supplied  to  me  at  Kishlak  were,  for  a  wonder, 
strong,  well-conditioned  animals,  and  we  got  over  a  good 
deal  of  ground,  notwithstanding  the  continual  splashing 
through  irrigation  canals,  and  stumbling  and  floundering 
in  miry  holes.    An  hour's  galloping  brought  us  to  Aradan, 

BB  2 


372  MELON  IRRIGATION. 

an  extensive  village,  which  seems  to  enjoy  some  special 
importance,  as  there  is  here  a  telegraph  bureau,  the  first 
to  be  met  with  after  leaving  Teheran.  The  surrounding 
district  is  lavishly  supplied  with  water,  and  the  water-melon 
is  largely  cultivated.  The  ground  was  divided  into  patches 
of  about  six  feet  square,  around  each  of  which  was  an 
irrigation  trench.  The  melons  are  first  planted  in  a  small 
earth-bank  at  the  edge  of  this  trench,  the  plants  subse- 
quently spreading  over  the  square,  which  can  be  inundated 
at  will.  The  trenches  have  to  be  frequently  cleared  of  the 
fine  earth-deposit  which  speedily  collects  in  them  in  con- 
sequence of  the  rapidity  with  which  the  mountain  streams 
flow  in  their  own  channels,  carrying  with  them  an  enormous 
amount  of  earth  in  suspension,  which  is  deposited  as  soon 
as  the  velocity  of  the  flow  is  lessened  in  the  comparatively 
level  trenches.  So  great  is  the  force  of  the  streams  in 
these  districts,  and  so  soft  and  deep  the  loamy  soil,  that  in 
some  instances  they  have  excavated  their  vertically-sided 
channels  to  a  depth  of  from  twenty  to  twenty-five  feet, 
rendering  them,  when  they  are  allowed  to  follow  their  own 
beds,  quite  unavailable  for  irrigation.  To  correct  this,  em- 
bankments are  constructed  higher  up,  in  stony  ground, 
where  the  stream  has  not  cut  into  the  soil,  turning  the 
water  slightly,  and  allowing  it  to  flow  into  previously  pre- 
pared irrigation  canals.  The  current,  when  not  required  in 
these  canals,  is  allowed  to  follow  its  natural  course.  In  the 
north  of  Persia,  and  notably  on  the  plains  north  of  the 
Elburz  mountains,  vast  stretches  of  fertile  ground  are  now 
barren  deserts,  the  streams  which  should  irrigate  them 
naturally,  such  as  the  Atterek  and  Giurgen,  having  exca- 
vated their  channels  to  too  great  a  depth.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  a  little  engineering  skill  would  render  it  possible  to 
turn  these  larger  streams,  like  the  smaller  ones,  at  will,  and 
to  give  back  fertility  to  what  is  now  a  howling  wilderness. 


CASTLE  OF  ARADAN.  373 

In  the  midst  of  the  village  of  Aradan  stands  an  edifice 
which  at  once  gives  to  the  traveller  the  cue  to  the  original 
use  of  the  mounds  which  one  sees  all  over  this  part  of  the 
country,  and  which  at  intervals  occur  in  great  numbers  up  to 
the  banks  of  the  Atterek.  Out  in  these  plains,  where  there 
are  no  natural  elevations,  it  was  found  necessary  for  defen- 
sive purposes  to  erect  earth-heaps,  upon  which  to  rear 
castles  and  citadels,  especially  in  districts  which,  like  these, 
were  open  to  the  sudden  attacks  of  the  nomads  of  the 
desert.  The  castle  of  Aradan  was  the .  first  of  the  kind 
which  I  had  seen  in  a  perfect  condition  and  in  actual  use. 
The  mound  is  about  seventy  yards  in  length  by  fifty  in 
breadth.  Its  sides  are  very  nearly  vertical,  and  almost  in 
line  with  the  walls  of  the  fortalice  which  crowns  its  summit. 
The  height  of  the  entire  structure  cannot  be  less  than 
seventy  or  eighty  feet.  The  revetment  of  the  mound  and 
the  walls  of  the  castle  are  of  unbaked  brick,  plastered  over 
with  fine  loam,  almost  as  hard  as  Soman  cement,  and  of  a 
reddish  ochreous  hue.  The  whole  thing  is  a  composite 
structure  of  square  and  half-round  towers  clinging  together, 
and  having  two  irregular  tiers  of  windows  and  loopholes, 
seemingly  constructed  at  different  dates,  without  regard  to 
any  definite  plan  or  design,  and  closely  resembling  some 
of  those  mediaeval  feudal  strongholds  one  sees  crowning 
rock  summits  in  Western  Europe.  Battlements  and  barti- 
zans crowd  the  walls,  and  between  them  is  caught  a  view 
of  terraces,  arched  arcades,  and  stairs,  heaped  together  in 
ihe  most  incongruous  fashion ;  the  entire  combination  as 
romantically  picturesque  as  it  is  possible  to  imagine.  Ac- 
cess is  given  to  the  interior  by  steep  stairs  within  the  walls, 
the  entrance  being  small,  and  well  guarded  by  towers  and 
outworks.  In  the  base  of  the  mound  are  cave-like  openings, 
used  as  stables,  and  probably  also  as  places  of  refuge  for 
flocks  during  a  hostile  incursion.    Within  sight  of  Aradan 


374  NATURE  OF  EARTH  MOUNDS. 

are  several  similar  structures  scattered  over  the  plain,  some 
of  them  quite  perfect ;  others  half  ruined,  but  still  in- 
habited ;  and  others,  again,  fallen  into  complete  decay,  a 
few  crumbling  walls  only  remaining  to  show  that  a  fortifica- 
tion  once  crowned  the  Lund  whose  sides,  formerly  verti- 
cal,  had  assumed  a  slope  of  forty-five  degrees,  partly  from 
atmospheric  influences,  and  partly  through  the  accumulation 
of  the  wall  materials  along  their  base.  All  of  them,  how- 
ever, stand  in  the  midst  of  large  and  populous  villages,  and 
clearly  indicate  the  nature  of  the  grass-grown  earth  heaps 
that  one  constantly  meets  with,  standing  mournfully  alone 
in  the  silent,  uncultivated  wastes,  where  not  a  vestige  of 
wall  or  tower  remains  to  tell  either  of  fortalice  or  of  village. 
Those  mounds  which  remain  along  the  Atterek  and  Giurgen 
were  unquestionably  erected  with  the  same  object  as  those 
which  I  have  just  described ;  and  their  number  and  extent 
plainly  indicate  how  populous  the  now  vast,  grim  solitudes 
of  the  Turcoman  deserts  once  were.  That  every  vestige  of 
village  and  fort  should  have  disappeared  proves  that  in 
remote  times  both  were  constructed  of  mud  or  unbaked 
brick,  as  in  Persia  to-day.  It  is  only  on  those  of  very  large 
size,  and  occurring  in  the  irregular  line  which  reaches  from 
Gumush  Tep6  to  Budjnoord,  that  remnants  of  the  ancient 
works  known  as  *  Alexander's  Wall '  are  to  be  found,  in  the 
shape  of  the  large  heavy  burnt  bricks  which  strew  their 
bases  or  mark  the  track  of  the  ancient  ramparts.  I  stayed 
but  a  few  minutes  at  Aradan  to  observe  its  castellated 
mound,  and,  regretting  that  time  did  not  allow  me  to  make 
any  sketches,  rode  away  on  my  eastward  journey. 

Immediately  outside  the  ramparts  which  enclose  the 
village  are  a  large  number  of  cupola-covered  cisterns  and 
imam  zades,  or  domed  tombs,  all  of  yellow  earth,  the  tombs 
almost  indistinguishable  from  the  cisterns.  Bound  these 
monuments,  which  are  the  places  of  sepulture  of  very  holy 


EASTERN  GRAVES.  375 

persons,  are  whole  acres  of  graves  of  ordinary  believers, 
interred  in  as  close  propinquity  as  possible  to  the  hallowed 
precincts.  These  graves  consist  simply  of  a  brick-lined 
cavity,  measuring  six  feet  by  two,  and  some  three  feet  deep, 
in  which  the  body  is  laid,  apparently  without  any  coffin, 
the  whole  being  covered  over  by  a  very  slightly-arched 
covering  of  earth,  in  form  and  colour  closely  resembling 
pie  crust.  Within  this  closed  cell  the  body  moulders  away. 
When  rain  and  the  feet  of  passers-by  have  worn  these 
earth  crusts  thin,  it  is  exceedingly  dangerous  to  ride  over 
one  of  the  spaces  set  out  with  this  kind  of  ghastly  pastry. 
The  horse  continually  breaks  through,  plunging  his  hoofs 
into  the  space  below,  to  the  imminent  peril  of  his  own  legs 
and  his  rider's  neck.  During  an  hour's  ride  we  passed 
close  by  no  less  than  three  castle-crowned  mounds,  and 
across  numbers  of  irrigation  trenches.  The  harvest  was 
being  gathered  in ;  and  to  judge  from  the  large  crowd  of 
persons  of  both  sexes,  and  of  mules  and  asses  collected  in 
one  or  two  fields  at  a  time,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
as  each  person's  corn  became  fit  for  the  sickle  the  entire 
population  of  the  neighbourhood  assembled  to  lend  their  aid 
in  reaping  it  and  carrying  it  home. 

Soon  the  nature  of  the  ground  changed,  and  we  were 
tearing  along  over  a  most  disagreeable  track,  sharp  rock 
ledges  projecting  into  the  roadway,  which  was  also  thickly 
strewn  with  rounded  stones  varying  in  size  between  an  egg 
and  a  man's  head.  Amidst  this  occurred  miry  holes  and 
half-dry  watercourses.  I  fancied  that  at  eagh  bound  of 
my  horse  he  and  I  must  certainly  come  to  grief,  and  I  sat 
well  thrown  back  in  the  saddle,  prepared  for  the  apparently 
inevitable  catastrophe.  We  passed  small  groups  of  pilgrims, 
some  mounted  on  donkeys,  others  toiling  along  on  foot, 
returning  from  the  shrine  at  Meshed ;  and  I  discovered  the 
solution  of  a  matter  which  had  often  puzzled  me.    Along 


376         PIOUS  USAGES.— WELL-MEANT  LYING. 

these  routes  one  frequently  sees  large  heaps  of  stones 
collected  on  either  side  of  the  way,  there  being  no  imam  zade 
or  other  shrine  in  sight  out  of  respect  for  which  the  stones 
might  have  been  accumulated.  I  now  found  that  when  a 
troop  of  pilgrims,  going  to  or  returning  from  a  shrine,  came 
in  sight  of  their  halting-place  for  the  night,  each  one  was  by 
custom  obliged  to  pick  up  a  stone  or  two,  and  add  them  to 
the  heap  nearest  him.  I  do  not  know  how  this  custom 
originated.  If  every  pious  usage  of  the  kind  were  equally 
practical  in  its  results,  the  more  of  them  there  existed  the 
better.  This  to  which  I  now  allude  has  done  much  towards 
rendering  the  roads  tolerably  free  from  stones  at  the  favoured 
places.  For  this  reason  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  pilgrimages 
are  not  more  frequent  along  other  routes  in  Persia  which  I 
could  mention.  Once  off  the  abominably  rocky,  boulder- 
strewn  stretch  of  ground,  we  got  on  fast  enough.  In  a  few 
minutes  we  were  rushing  past  a  couple  of  stone-built  tower- 
flanked  caravanserais,  wrecked  by  the  Turcomans  years  ago, 
and,  true  to  Persian  custom,  never  repaired  since.  A  group 
of  weary-looking  old  men,  pilgrims  from  Meshed,  were  slaking 
their  thirst  at  a  ruined  tank  close  by.  With  their  long  blue 
calico  gowns,  so  long  that  they  could  scarce  avoid  treading 
on  them  as  they  walked,  they  had  the  appearance  of  people 
who  would  be  a  great  deal  the  better  for  following  scriptu- 
ral advice  anent  girding  up  loins  for  a  journey.  With 
faint  voice  one  inquired  how  many  farsakhs  it  was  to  the 
next  menzil,  and  was  informed  with  the  best-intentioned 
mendacity  in  the  world  by  our  courier  that  it  was  but  one 
farsakh  off,  though,  having  just  come  over  the  ground,  I 
knew  that  it  was  at  least  four  times  that  distance.  In 
twenty  minutes  more  we  had  reached  the  postal  station  of 
Deh  Memek,  having,  without  changing  horses,  done  twenty- 
eight  miles,  over  very  bad  ground,  in  a  little  less  than  three 
hours  and  a  half.    At  this  station  we  were  informed  that 


TOWERS  OF  REFUGE.— DEH  MEMEK.  377 

the  poet  from  Teheran  was  due  there  that  evening,  and  that 
we  had  better  lose  no  time,  as  if  overtaken,  we  should  find 
continually  ahead  of  us  the  fatigued  horses  of  the  couriers. 
There  was  another  danger,  too,  that  of  being  crossed  by  the 
up  mail  from  Meshed,  which  would  leave  us  in  an  equally 
awkward  predicament,  as  the  horses  at  each  station  are 
seldom  more  numerous  than  is  absolutely  necessary  for  the 
postal  service.  While  waiting  for  the  horses  to  be  saddled, 
I  jotted  down  my  notes  of  the  road. 

Scattered  over  the  surrounding  country  were  mud 
towers,  ten  to  twelve  feet  high  and  seven  or  eight  in 
diameter,  loopholed,  and  having  very  small  doorways.  These 
towers  were  from  one  hundred  to  three  hundred  yards  apart, 
and  were  intended  as  places  of  refuge  for  the  people  work- 
ing in  the  fields,  in  case  of  a  sudden  incursion  of  Turco- 
mans. Here,  every  one  goes  to  work  with  musket  at  back  ; 
and  three  or  four  men  in  one  of  these  towers  could  easily 
hold  out,  even  against  a  large  force,  until  aid  arrived  from 
the  neighbouring  villages  or  karaovl  hanes.  The  ground,  slop- 
ing gently  away  from  the  distant  hills,  was  broken  into 
hundreds  of  terraces,  their  greatest  length  being  parallel  to 
the  line  of  hills.  By  this  arrangement  a  single  stream  was 
made  to  irrigate  a  great  extent  of  ground,  the  water,  after 
flowing  over  the  upper  terrace,  descending  to  the  next,  and 
so  on  to  the  lowermost.  Deh  Memek  itself  is  a  wretched 
place,  with  colossal  mud  caravanserais  all  in  a  semi-ruinous 
condition.  We  were  again  fortunate  as  regards  horses,  the 
animals  being  quite  fresh,  having  had  an  entire  week's  re- 
pose. This  was  lucky,  for  the  next  stage  was  eight  farsakhs 
distant.  The  ground  was  much  the  same  as  before,  save 
that,  owing  to  the  streams  having  cut  their  beds  to  an 
excessive  depth,  and  to  their  canon-like  channels  being 
almost  subterranean,  the  country  was  entirely  barren. 
Four  hours'  quick  riding  brought  us  to  a  narrow  valley  in 


378  LASGIRD.— LUGUBRIOUS  LODGINGS. 

which  flowed  a  pretty  large  stream.  Traversing  this,  we 
crossed  a  chain  of  low,  bare  hills  composed  entirely  of 
gypsum,  and,  passing  through  a  narrow  cleft  which  allowed 
but  one  horseman  abreast,  reached  a  large,  circular,  well- 
cultivated  plain.  In  the  midst  of  this  stood  the  consider- 
able village  of  Lasgird.  In  its  centre  is  a  castled  mound 
of  large  dimensions,  such  as  I  have  already  described, 
but  the  village  itself  is  not  fortified.  On  the  western 
skirt  of  the  place  is  an  extensive  cemetery,  containing 
many  large  imam  zades  and  lesser  domed  tombs.  Passing 
by  one  of  these,  I  was  surprised  to  see  lying  around  it  a 
number  of  reposing  camels,  their  burdens  scattered  about 
on  the  ground,  and,  within  the  tomb  itself,  in  the  vaulted 
chamber  under  the  cupola,  a  couple  of  women,  evidently  of 
the  better  class,  accompanied  by  three  or  four  children. 
They  had  arranged  their  carpets  and  beds  there,  and  were 
making  themselves  apparently  as  much  at  home  in  their 
somewhat  lugubrious  quarters  as  the  most  select  party  of 
ghouls  or  vampires  could  have  done.  I  recollect  once,  in 
my  youthful  days,  reading  in  the  '  Arabian  Nights '  of  a 
traveller  who,  arriving  late  in  the  evening  at  some  unknown 
town,  and  finding  the  gates  closed,  took  up  his  quarters  for 
the  night  in  a  tomb  near  the  city  gate.  I  wondered  very 
much  what  kind  of  a  tomb  it  could  be  within  which  he  could 
find  lodging,  my  experience  of  such  monuments  up  to  that 
time  being  confined  to  flat  stone  slabs  or  tall  obelisks ;  and, 
moreover,  I  felt  surprised  that  the  traveller  did  not  feel  any 
of  the  apprehension  which  I  should  then  certainly  have  felt 
of  uncanny  nocturnal  visitors.  I  have  often  remarked  in  the 
East,  and  notably  in  Persia,  the  total  absence  of  dislike  to 
the  propinquity  of  a  cemetery  after  dark  which  is  so  com- 
mon in  Europe.  I  have  frequently  seen  shepherds  camp- 
ing at  night  with  their  flocks  among  tombs,  and  have  some- 
times been  almost  startled  into  my  early  belief  in  bogies 


A  STARTLING  RENCONTRE.  379 

by  seeing  a  tall  cloaked  figure  rise  suddenly  among  the 
graves,  as  some  tired  traveller  put  himself  on  the  alert,  lest 
I  might  be  what  he  dreaded  much  more  than  any  hobgoblin 
or  divf  viz.  a  prowling  Turcoman. 

Having  the  fear  of  the  pursuing  postman  before  my 
eyes,  I  stayed  but  a  few  minutes  at  Lasgird,  and  then  sped 
away  once  more,  this  time  amid  fields  of  ripe  corn,  where 
the  harvestmen  were  busy.  Half  a  dozen  miles  out,  while 
riding  along  a  narrow  winding  path  between  some  sand- 
hills, I  met  with  a  somewhat  startling  adventure.  Bound- 
ing the  shoulder  of  a  hill,  I  came  suddenly  face  to  face  with 
a  mounted  Afghan  trooper,  in  full  uniform,  and  armed  to 
the  teeth.  He  wore  a  dark-coloured  turban,  one  end  of  the 
cloth  pulled  up  in  front,  so  as  to  resemble  a  small  cockade. 
His  uniform  was  blue-black,  and  he  wore  long  boots.  A 
broad  black  leather  cross-belt,  with  two  very  large  brass 
buckles,  crossed  his  breast.  He  had  sabre,  pistols,  and 
carbine.  He  looked  sharply  at  me  as  he  passed,  and 
immediately  halted  and  entered  into  conversation  with  my 
servant,  who  rode  behind.  Next  moment  another  horse- 
man appeared,  also  an  Afghan,  thoroughly  armed,  and 
whose  dress  indicated  that  he  was  of  high  rank.  He,  too, 
took  a  good  look  at  me,  and,  like  the  trooper,  stopped  to 
talk  with  my  servant.  Twenty  yards  behind  him  rode  four 
more  troopers,  each  one  leading  a  laden  baggage  horse.  As 
I  passed  these  I  turned  round,  and  saw  the  entire  six  halted 
together  and  looking  after  me.  The  postman  was  terribly 
alarmed.  He  took  the  new  comers  for  Turcomans.  My 
servant  came  up,  and  I  learned  from  him  that  the  Afghans 
had  been  enquiring  who  I  was,  and  whither  I  was  going. 
He  had  informed  them  of  my  nationality,  and  that  I  was 
bound  for  Meshed — for  what  purpose  he  could  not  say. 
My  impression  was  that  they,  having  learned  what  country- 
man I  was,  were  deliberating  about  attacking  me,  and, 


3«o  NADIR  KHAN.—SEMNAN. 

being  now  hidden  from  their  view,  I  put  spurs  to  my  horse 
and  dashed  away  at  a  headlong  pace  over  the  plain  in  the 
direction  of  a  village  some  miles  off.  I  hoped  there  to  be 
able  to  get  some  aid,  or  at  least  to  be  able  to  use  my  revol- 
ver with  greater  effect  from  under  cover  of  the  loopholed 
wall.  The  ground  was  undulating,  so  that  I  could  not  see 
whether  or  not  I  was  pursued  until  I  reached  the  village. 
Arrived  there,  I  swept  the  plain  with  my  field-glass,  and,  to 
my  intense  relief,  found  that  my  apprehensions  had  been 
groundless.  My  servant  informed  me  that  the  chief  was 
named  Nadir  Khan,  and  that  one  of  the  troopers  told  him 
they  had  come  from  some  town,  whose  name  he  could  not 
recollect,  through  Herat,  and  that  they  were  now  on  their 
way  to  Teheran.  I  continued  my  way,  heartily  glad  of 
having  come  safely  out  of  what  might  have  been  a  very  ugly 
scrape. 

As  one  approaches  the  village,  or  rather  town,  of  Sem- 
nan,  the  country  is  very  fertile  and  cultivated,  villages 
occurring  all  around  at  short  intervals.  The  cupolas  and 
towers  of  Semnan  look  remarkably  beautiful,  their  bright 
yellow  tints  gleaming  amid  the  verdant  groves  of  pome- 
granate, willow,  fig,  and  plane-tree.  'A  wilderness  of 
graves  and  tombs '  stretches  around  the  city  walls,  and  fills 
every  available  space  within  them.  Each  garden  is  a 
fortress  in  itself,  the  doors  giving  admission  to  it  being 
barely  two  feet  square,  and  closed  by  thick  stone  slabs 
turning  on  pivots.  The  house  doors,  too,  were  scarcely 
four  feet  high,  very  solid,  and  the  locks  invariably  on  the 
inside.  There  was  no  exterior  keyhole ;  but  instead,  close 
by  the  jamb  and  level  with  the  lock,  a  hole  six  or  eight 
inches  in  diameter  was  pierced  in  the  earthen  wall,  which 
penetrated  to  half  the  thickness  of  the  latter,  then  turning 
at  right  angles  and  opening  in  the  midst  of  its  edge. 
Through  this  the  arm  can  be  introduced  and  the  key 


AGHIVAN.  381 

applied  to  the  lock.  This  arrangement  rendered  the  pick* 
ing  of  the  lock  impossible,  or  nearly  so ;  and  besides,  pre- 
vented its  being  removed  or  damaged  as  easily  as  if  it  were 
outside.  This  opening  in  the  wall  allows  of  a  person  within 
conversing  with  one  outside,  without  being  seen  or  fired  at. 
This  arrangement,  which  I  have  since  frequently  noticed  in 
other  parts  of  the  East,  would  serve  to  explain  the  Scriptural 
quotation  (Song  of  Sol.  v.  4),  'My  beloved  put  in  his 
hand  by  the  hole  of  the  door,  and  my  bowels  were  moved 
for  him.'  The  town  walls  are  in  some  places  beautifully 
decorated  with  blue  and  red  tiles  of  the  most  brilliant 
hues.  The  mosque,  with  its  tall,  slender  minaret,  is  the 
only  building  of  burned  brick  in  the  place.  There  is  a 
pretty  large  covered  bazaar,  and  the  remnant  of  a  large 
and  once  beautiful  palatial  residence,  built  on  the  top  of  a 
huge  artificial  mound  in  the  midst  of  the  town. 

At  Semnan  I  was  informed  that,  unless  I  consented  to 
go  on  at  once,  the  horses  would  be  retained  for  the  expected 
courier ;  so,  tired  as  I  was,  I  had  to  set  off  on  another  stage 
of  twenty-four  miles.  I  reached  Aghivan,  a  solitary  cara- 
vanserai in  the  midst  of  desolate  mountains,  just  as  the 
sun  was  setting,  and  iA  a  very  brief  space  of  time  was  sleep- 
ing soundly  after  my  rapid  journey  of  one  hundred  and 
eight  miles  since  four  o'clock  that  morning.  Four  stages — 
twenty-three  farsakhs—h&d  still  to  be  traversed  before  I 
could  gain  Shahrood. 


382  LOS  EL  Y  POST  STA  TIONS. 


CHAPTER  XXm. 

SHAHROOD. 

Caravanserais — Villages  and  their  fortifications — Kanots  and  tanks — Absence 
of  palm,  orange,  and  olive  trees — Minars — Deh  Mullah — Crossed  by  the 
post — Persian  postmaster — A  storm  on  the  plain — Shahrood— Derivation 
of  name — Armenian  traders — Bitten  by  the  garrib-gez — Various  cures — 
Disputes  about  sluices — Monthly  pilgrim  caravans — Dervishes — Military 
escort — Bokharan  pilgrims — Change  of  plans. 

Aghtvan  is  situated  amongst  stony  hills,  and  wears  a  most 
dreary  appearance.  It  is  not  a  village,  for  the  country 
around  affords  nothing  that  could  support  even  the  smallest 
hamlet,  but  merely  consists  of  a  caravanserai,  imam  zadi9 
and  a  post-house.  The  caravanserai  is  of  extremely  ancient 
architecture  and  of  great  extent,  with  a  sort  of  hospice 
for  pilgrims  attached.  The  post-house  is  a  comparatively 
modern  structure.  These  establishments  have  been  erected 
along  the  Teheran-Meshed  route  at  different  times  for  the 
use  of  pilgrims  and  other  travellers.  Large  caravans  of 
the  former  pass  the  place  monthly ;  but,  except  at  these 
periods,  there  is  little  or  no  sign  of  life  around  the  desolate 
station.  There  is  not  a  single  private  dwelling  near  it, 
and  the  place  usually  has  an  aspect  of  utter  desolation. 
Gosbek,  the  next  station,  is  similar  in  appearance  to  Aghivan, 
consisting  like  it  only  of  a  caravanserai  and  post-house,  but 
it  is  situated  on  a  plain.  The  distance  between  the  two 
stations  is  about  twenty-eight  English  miles.  The  first  half 
of  the  way  lies  in  the  hills,  and  is  intolerably  rough,  but  the 
last  fourteen  miles  are  tolerably  easy  travelling. 


EARTHWORKS.  383 

From  Gosbek  to  Damkhan,  a  fertile  and  well-cultivated 
plain  stretches  some  twenty-five  miles.  The  whole  face  of 
the  country  is  dotted  in  every  direction  with  towers  of 
refuge,  like  the  peel  towers  that  once  existed  so  numerously 
in  the  counties  on  the  Scottish  border.  The  whole  plain  is 
filled  with  fortified  villages,  situated  in  general  at  little  more 
than  half  a  mile  or  so  from  one  another.  Each  is  sur- 
rounded by  strong  walls,  in  some  places  extremely  well 
designed  for  purposes  of  resistance,  and  the  low  houses 
within  are  completely  hidden  from  view  by  these  fortifica- 
tions. In  some  cases  the  walls  are  triple,  the  outermost 
being  moreover  protected  by  a  deep  ditch  or  wet  moat.  All 
the  walls  are  furnished  with  flanking  towers,  and,  together 
with  the  central  buildings  and  gateways,  are  elaborately 
ornamented  with  mouldings,  made  in  the  plastic  clay  of  which 
the  whole  is  built.  In  fact,  the  ornamentation  is  stamped 
on  somewhat  in  the  same  way  that  a  pastrycook  manipulates 
pie-crust,  and  often  reminds  one  of  the  latter  in  its  appear- 
ance. 

These  earthworks,  though  strong  enough  against  an 
enemy's  attack,  are  from  the  nature  of  their  materials  of  a 
very  perishable  description.  Every  year's  rain  does  them 
serious  damage,  and  entails  the  necessity  of  immediate 
repairs.  If  from  any  cause  these  are  neglected,  a  few  years 
suffice  to  level  the  entire  work.  The  traveller  sees  on  every 
hand  shapeless  earth  mounds,  which  indicate  the  sites 
of  villages  that  have  once  existed.  From  time  immemorial 
such  fortifications  have  been  built  here,  and  these  mounds 
are  the  only  marks  left  to  tell  of  their  former  existence. 
Still,  clay  walls  are  quite  sufficient  protection  against  the 
Turcomans,  who  are  the  most  dreaded  enemies  of  their 
inhabitants.  These  marauders  never  attempt  the  siege  of 
a  fortified  place.  Their  system  is  to  raid  on  the  inhabitants 
unexpectedly  while  they  are  at  work  in  the  fields,  and  to 


384  DAM  KHAN.— VILLAGES  IN  THE  PLAIN. 

drive  off  the  camels  and  flocks  before  their  owners  have 
time  to  secure  them  in  their  fortifications. 

Internally,  the  villages  resemble  thickets  or  orchards,  so 
dense  are  the  trees  among  which  the  houses  are  placed. 
The  fig  and  pomegranate  are  the  most  common  fruit-trees ; 
the  willow  and  plane  tree  are  also  abundant.  Water  is 
everywhere  in  abundance.  Subterranean  canals,  or  kanoU, 
convey  it  to  every  village,  and  ridges  of  earth  mark  the 
course  of  these  canals  across  the  plain,  like  gigantic  mole- 
tracks.  Of  course  it  would  be  easy  for  an  enemy  to  cut 
these  watercourses  in  case  of  a  siege,  and  to  guard  against 
such  an  eventuality,  numerous  large  tanks  are  provided  in 
each  village,  and  kept  constantly  filled  from  the  kanots. 
Each  hamlet  has  its  local  chief,  who  occupies  one  end  ;  his 
fortified  dwelling  usually  taking  up  nearly  a  third  of  the 
space  enclosed,  and  forming  a  perfect  castle,  such  as  they 
are  in  Persia.  These  villages  in  the  plain  of  Damkhan 
are  not  built  on  artificial  mounds  as  in  other  districts  of 
Persia,  but  they  are  amply  protected  by  the  number  and 
strength  of  their  fortifications  against  any  foray  the  Tur- 
comans can  attempt.  Indeed,  were  their  defenders  armed 
with  modern  rifles,  and  skilled  in  their  use,  they  could  offer 
a  formidable  opposition  to  a  regular  invading  army.  Their 
earthworks  are  quite  strong  enough  to  defy  the  common 
field  artillery,  and  the  villages  stand  so  close  together, 
and  are  so  connected  by  the  isolated  refuge  towers,  that 
without  regular  siege  guns  an  invader  would  find  it  hard 
work  to  force  his  way  through  them. 

The  Turcoman  forays  to  which  I  have  alluded  have 
grown  much  rarer  than  formerly  since  the  advance  of  the 
Russians  on  the  Atterek.  Only  further  east,  and  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Tekk6  headquarters,  are  raids  now  attempted, 
and  those  but  rarely.  To  the  Damkhan  villagers,  conse- 
quently, the  advent  of  the  Muscovites  is  by  no  means  dis- 


FRUIT-TREES.  385 

tasteful.  They  are  delighted  to  be  freed  from  the  incursions 
of  their  marauding  neighbours,  and,  with  Eastern  fatalism, 
they  never  trouble  themselves  about  ulterior  dangers  from 
the  approach  of  the  European  forces.  Accordingly  they  were 
eager  to  supply  the  Bussians  with  all  the  provisions  they 
needed,  the  Shah's  orders  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding. 
The  high  prices  paid  by  the  Bussian  commissaries  is  an 
additional  attraction  to  the  needy  villagers,  and  Bussian 
gold  is  an  effective  agent  in  reconciling  them  to  the  advance 
of  the  strangers.  The  Turcomans  themselves  are  not 
insensible  to  the  charms  of  foreign  pay.  The  tribes  of 
Jaffar  Bai,  and  Ata  Bai,  of  Hassan  Kouli  and  the  Giurgen, 
were  among  the  most  active  partisans  of  the  army  on  the 
Atterek,  though  they  are  akin  to  the  Tekk6  themselves. 

A  strange  fact  in  connection  with  the  botany  of  this 
portion  of  Persia  is  the  absence  of  several  almost  typical 
Eastern  trees.  Though  figs,  pomegranates,  and  the  mul- 
berry, both  black  and  white,  grow  luxuriantly  on  all  sides, 
the  palm,  olive,  and  orange,  which  one  would  expect  to  be 
equally  common,  are  totally  absent.  The  latter  grows  and 
ripens  well  in  much  more  northern  districts,  and  the  olive 
certainly  would  be  a  most  desirable  addition  to  the  agricul- 
tural resources  of  a  people  so  fond  of  oily  pilaffs  as  the 
Persians.  The  palm,  too,  would  flourish  here.  In  the 
gardens  of  a  deserted  palace  on  the  shores  of  the  Caspian 
there  is  a  fine  one  growing,  which  the  local  traditions  say 
has  been  there  since  the  time  of  Shah  Abase  the  Great. 
The  -same  tradition  states  that  the  whole  country  between 
Asterabad  and  the  Atterek  was  once  an  unbroken  forest 
of  palm  trees.  Now,  at  least,  none  are  to  be  seen,  and 
their  absence  leaves  a  sense  of  void  in  an  Oriental  land- 
scape where  camels  and  palms  would  seem  to  be  naturally 
associated. 

Few  sights  are  more  charming  to  the  eye  than  the  view 

vol.  1.  00 


386  ORSAMENTED  RAAfPARTS.—MLVARS. 

of  one  of  these  fortified  villages,  with  its  walls  topped  by  a 
crown  of  foliage,  especially  when  the  traveller  approaches 
it  after  a  long  journey  across  the  stony  deserts.  The 
hues  which  they  put  on  in  the  evening  sun  are  indescrib- 
ably gorgeous.  The  clay  walls  glisten  like  gold  in  the 
slanting  rays,  and  the  flowers  among  the  leaves  of  the  trees 
above  glow  with  gem-like  tints  till  each  village  rampart  with 
its  battlements  and  towers,  and  the  patches  of  deep  blue 
sky  beyond  and  between,  looks  like  a  mural  crown  set 
with  rubies  and  turquoises.  The  bright  colours  of  the 
landscape,  so  different  from  the  cold  neutral  tints  of  more 
northern  climates,  seem  to  have  an  effect  on  the  native  eye, 
and  the  Persians  delight  in  bright  colours  as  a  means  of 
ornament.  Even  such  matter-of-fact  buildings  as  towers 
and  ramparts  are  often  thus  decorated.  At  Teheran  and 
Semnan  the  towers  and  walls  were  adorned  with  bands  of 
bright  blue  tiles,  almost  rivalling  the  depth  of  the  sky  tints 
themselves. 

About  ten  miles  after  leaving  Damkhan  the  level  of  the 
plain  was  broken  by  two  objects  resembling  spires  in  the 
far  distance.  I  was  almost  wearied  of  guessing  at  what 
they  might  be  before  I  approached  near  enough  to  make 
out  their  character.  They  proved  to  be  two  Jofty  minar$9  or 
minarets,  as  they  are  more  commonly  styled  in  the  West. 
One  of  them  was  close  by  my  road,  so  that  I  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  examining  it  with  a  little  attention  as  I  passed. 
It  was  plain,  and  more  than  twice  the  height  of  the  minar 
at  Semnan,  though  the  latter  is  much  richer  in  design  and 
more  elaborately  finished.  At  base  its  diameter  was  about 
sixteen  feet,  and  it  tapered  gradually  to  the  top,  which  was 
finished  by  a  small  projecting  cornice.  On  this  a  wooden 
platform  had  been  laid,  from  which  the  Imam  could  call 
the  faithful  to  prayer  ;  but  this  was  a  good  deal  dilapidated 
when  I  saw  it.    A  winding  stair,  lit  by  openings  in  the 


MINARS  AND  'ROUND   TOWERS:  3*7 

sides  of  the  tower  itself,  gave  access  to  the  top.  The 
material  throughout,  from  foundations  to  top,  was  baked 
brick,  and  about  midway  up  the  height  was  a  band  inscribed 
with  Kufic  characters,  moulded  rudely  in  the  bricks,  and 
proving  the  Mahomedan  character  of  the  building.  I 
mention  this  fact  chiefly  because  my  servant  told  me  that 
in  the  more  southerly  provinces,  as  Tezd,  there  were  exactly 
similar  buildings  of  a  date  long  antecedent  to  the  rise  of 
Mahomedanism.  What  truth  may  be  in  his  statement  I 
had  no  means  of  ascertaining,  but  the  Damkhan  minar 
is  unquestionably  Mahomfedan.  During  the  archroological 
discussions  on  the  Irish  '  Bound  Towers,'  which  excited 
such  attention  some  forty  years  ago,  much  stress  was  laid 
on  the  reported  existence  of  *  fire  towers  '  in  Persia  similar 
to  the  Irish  buildings.  General  Vallancey,  in  the  last 
century,  first  called  attention  to  the  matter,  and  argued  that 
the  Irish  towers  were  erected  by  sun  worshippers  with  the 
same  purpose  as  the  Persian  towers  had  been  by  the 
Guebres  before  the  advent  of  Mahomed.  The  Persian 
tower  which  I  saw  was  most  certainly  a  Mahomedan  minar, 
though  the  mosque  attached,  being  built  of  sun-dried 
bricks,  might  easily  be  destroyed,  and  thus  leave  the  tower 
standing  alone,  perhaps  to  puzzle  future  generations  of 
archffiologists. 

Damkhan  was  the  first  town  arrived  at  after  leaving 
Semnan,  and  in  fact  these  two  were  the  only  places  approach- 
ing to  the  rank  of  towns  along  the  line  I  had  been  follow- 
ing. Like  the  villages  around  it,  it  is  girdled  with  earth  walls 
and  towers,  within  which  huge  fortified  dwellings,  often  in 
ruins,  and  arched  bazaars,  were  flanked  by  groves  of  pome- 
granate and  mulberry.  I  remained  there  barely  half  an 
hour.  Dreading  that  the  postal  authorities  might  interfere 
with  my  horses,  I  hurried  out  of  the  town,  and  pushed  on 

at  full  speed  for  Deh  Mullah,  the  last  station  between  me 

0  02 


388    DEH  MULLAH.— OVERTAKEN  BY  THE  POST. 

and  my  destination  for  the  time  being,   Shahrood.     Deh 
Mullah  is  twenty-four  miles  from  Damkhan  across  a  dead 
level    plain,   dotted    with  the    mounds    I    have    already 
mentioned  as  marking  the  former  sites  of  villages.     The 
day  was  far  advanced  and  the  weather  threatening,  so  I 
sped  across  the  plain  at  a  rate  which  made  the  peasants 
whom  I  passed  eye  me  suspiciously.     Along  the  road  men 
were  everywhere  looking  after  the  corn-fields  with  muskets  in 
their  hands  ;  but  this  combination  of  military  and  agricul- 
tural externals  is  too  common  here  to  attract  the  traveller's 
notice.     Whatever  they  thought  of  my  pace,  they  kept  their 
suspicions  to  themselves,  and  I  arrived  in  good  time  at  Deh 
Mullah,  but  only  to  find  all  my  hopes  of  further  journey 
thence  frustrated  for  the  time.     As  I  dashed  up  to  the  post- 
house  which  lies  just  outside  the  village  gate,  what  was  my 
disgust  to  see  the  gentlemen  of  the  up  post  from  Meshed 
already  mounted  on  the  very  animals  which  1  had  fondly 
hoped  would  carry  me  straight  to  Shahrood.    It  was  all  to 
no  purpose  that  I  had  outstripped  the  couriers  behind  me. 
I  could  not  outrun  those  who  had  thus  come  down  on  my 
track  from  the  opposite  direction.     There  was  no  escape 
from  fate.     The  post  horses  which  had  just  made  their  six- 
teen miles  from  Meshed  at  full  speed  were  in  absolute  need 
of  a  rest  before  they  could  start  back  with  me,  and  my  own, 
which  had  just  come  the  twenty-four  miles  from  Damkhan 
at  a  full  gallop,  were  equally  exhausted.     I  had  to  make  the 
best  of  my  case,  and,  while  waiting  three  hours  for  my  steeds, 
I  strolled  around  the  village  of  Deh  Mullah. 

Whatever  might  be  my  eagerness  to  get  on  to  my 
destination,  it  was  evident  that  the  town  itself  was  little 
concerned  about  rapidity  of  progression.  All  was  silent  as 
the  grave.  The  postmaster  was  seated  on  an  earthen  bank 
under  the  archway  of  his  establishment,  smoking  peace- 
fully.   He  was  an  old  man,  tall  in  stature,  and  with  an 


PERSIAN  K ALIO  UN.— SOLITUDE.  389 

utterly  woebegone  expression  on  his  face.  His  beard 
ought  to  have  been  white,  but  on  some  peculiar  principle, 
only  known  to  Persian  esthetes,  he  had  dyed  it  orange  red. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  loose  flowing  robe,  wore  a  tall  lambskin 
cap  on  his  shaven  head,  and  his  feet  were  guiltless  of 
stockings.  The  old  gentleman  with  orange  tawny  beard 
seemed  to  be  the  only  as  well  as  the  oldest  inhabitant  of 
Deh  Mullah,  as  on  looking  through  the  gateway  not  a 
person  was  to  be  seen.  Even  bad  company  is  here  better 
than  none,  so  I  seated  myself  on  a  bank  vis-a-vis  with  the 
melancholy  smoker,  and  commenced  to  light  a  kalioun. 
The  kalioun,  or  water-pipe,  is  in  shape  somewhat  like  a  huge 
earthen  ink  jar,  in  the  neck  of  which  a  wooden  stem  is  stuck. 
The  stem,  which  is  turned  and  carved,  is  about  two  and  a 
half  feet  high,  surmounted  by  a  brass  cone  of  considerable 
size.  This  is  filled  partially  by  the  tobacco  known  here  as 
tumbaki,  and  on  top  of  the  tobacco  pieces  of  lighted  charcoal 
are  placed.  A  hollow  cane  runs  from  the  brass  cone  or 
grate  to  the  bottom  of  the  jar,  and  another  is  attached  to 
its  neck,  through  which  the  smoker  inhales  the  washed 
smoke.  I  pulled  away  at  this  apparatus  for  a  while  in 
silence,  and  then  strolled  into  the  bazaar.  Not  a  human 
being  was  to  be  seen  anywhere,  and  the  dull  grey  light 
made  the  place  look  like  a  city  of  the  dead,  such  as  are 
told  of  in  Arabian  fairy  tales.  I  walked  through  several 
streets  with  the  same  experience,  and  finally,  getting 
oppressed  and  half  scared  by  the  utter  stillness,  I  returned 
hastily  to  the  post-house  beyond  the  gate,  where  at  least  the 
tawny-bearded  smoker  remained  to  enliven  the  scene.  He 
was  still  smoking  impassively,  but  he  was  the  only  living 
thing  in  sight,  except  the  lizards  that  popped  their  heads  up 
from  their  holes  or  scurried  across  the  ground  in  fright  at 
my  tread.  The  mud  fortifications  and  the  flat-roofed  houses 
beyond  them  were  alike  '  silent  still  and  silent  all.'    Even 


390  A   STORM  IN  THE  PLAIN. 

the  appearance  of  a  cat  or  dog  would  have  been  welcome 
as  a  break  to  the  dead  silence,  but  none  appeared.  It  was 
with  a  sense  of  deep  relief  that  after  three  hours  I  saw  the 
post  horses  at  last  appear,  after  their  needed  rest.  I  wasted 
no  time  in  resuming  my  journey  towards  Shahrood,  and 
left  Deh  Mullah  to  its  death-like  repose. 

My  journey  lay  across  a  plain  bounded  on  the  left  by 
gloomy  mountains,  but  stretching  away  in  other  directions 
as  limitless  as  an  Illinois  prairie.  The  mountains  were 
overhung  by  ominous-looking  dark  clouds,  through  which 
an  occasional  rift  let  a  gleam  of  shifting  sunlight  on  particu- 
lar spots.  When  I  had  travelled  a  few  miles  the  thunder 
began  to  roll,  and,  turning,  I  saw  the  storm  taking  definite 
shape  on  the  mountains.  In  the  vast  expanse  of  the 
horizon,  its  extent,  and  I  may  even  say  its  form,  was  visible 
at  once,  as  it  moved  down  in  masses  of  dark  cloud,  like 
giant  genii  from  the  mountains,  and  took  its  course  across 
the  plain.  Whirling  columns  of  dust  preceded  the  storm- 
clouds  like  the  vanguard  of  an  army  on  the  march,  and 
at  intervals  lightnings  shot  out  from  the  sides  of  the 
dark  mass  like  flashes  of  artillery.  I  was  luckily  out  of  its 
path,  and  only  felt  a  few  rain-drops,  but  never  had  I  seen  a 
storm  in  all  its  extent  so  fully  before.  By  the  time  it  had 
passed  away,  the  walls  and  gates  of  Shahrood  came  in  view. 
I  had  made  the  journey  of  two  hundred  and  eighty-four 
miles  from  Teheran  in  two  days  and  three  quarters,  includ- 
ing the  quarter  day  I  had  lost  in  Deh  Mullah. 

Shahrood  is  one  of  the  prettiest  places  along  the  entire 
postal  route.  It  is  shut  in  from  the  north  by  a  semicircle 
of  low  hills.  To  the  south  it  is  surrounded  by  luxuriant 
gardens — woods,  I  would  say,  were  they  not  all  the  result 
of  human  labour  and  continued  care.  To  the  north-west 
tower  the  Elburz  mountains,  separating  the  town  from 
Asterabad  and  the  plains  of  the  Eara-Su  and  Giurgen. 


SHAHROOD.  391 

North-west  of  the  present  town  stands  what  is  known  as 
the  Castle  of  Shahrood,  and  which,  up  to  some  forty  or  fifty 
years  ago,  constituted  all  that  there  was  of  tho  place.  It 
is  simply  an  enclosure  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
square,  with  very  tall  walls  of  unbaked  brick  and  numerous 
flanking  towers,  within  which  the  houses  are  huddled  for 
protection.  Now,  however,  Shahrood  has  increased  fifty- 
fold,  owing  to  the  great  concourse  of  pilgrims  who  flock 
every  month  to  the  shrine  of  Imam  Biza  at  Meshed,  the 
high  road  to  the  latter  town  lying  through  it. 

There  are  several  hundred  gardens  planted  with  apricot, 
fig,  mulberry,  and  vine,  the  latter  topping  the  earth  walls, 
and  hanging  over  them  in  graceful  festoons.  To  keep  them 
in  this  position  one  often  sees  the  skull  of  a  horse  or  camel 
tied  to  the  branch,  and  depending  on  the  outside  of  the 
wall.  Water  abounds  at  all  times  of  the  year,  and  the 
river  from  which  the  place  takes  its  name,  the  Shah  Bood, 
or  Royal  River,  flowing  down  the  middle  of  the  principal 
thoroughfare,  is,  at  the  hottest  part  of  the  year,  well  filled. 
To  my  mind,  however,  it  is  scarce  worthy  of  the  sounding 
appellation  given  it,  as  it  is  but  ten  or  twelve  feet  across, 
and  hardly  one  foot  in  depth.  A  priest  here  told  me  that 
in  his  opinion  the  true  name  of  the  place  was  Sheher  Rood ; 
that  is,  the  town  of  the  prophet.  There  is  a  very  consider- 
able bazaar,  which  is,  like  all  those  to  be  met  with  in  these 
countries,  composed  of  narrow  streets  lined  with  the  booths 
and  stalls  of  the  dealers  and  artisans ;  and  off  which  open 
large  courtyards  surrounded  by  brick  buildings,  where  the 
principal  merchants  have  their  counting-houses.  One  of 
the  best  is  known  as  the  Armenian  caravanserai,  where 
half-a-dozen  Armenians  carry  on  an  export  trade  in 
cotton  and  raw  silk,  also  importing,  chiefly  from  Russia, 
bar  iron  and  steel,  tea,  sugar,  &c.  Owing  to  its  vicinity  to 
the  Turcoman  frontier,  the  bazaar  is  carefully  closed  a 


392  CAR  A  VA  NSERAIS. 

little  after  sunset,  and  should  one  happen  to  stay  too  long 
within  its  walls  it  is  with  no  small  difficulty  that  the 
dervazeh  bashi  can  be  got  to  undo  the  many  fastenings  of 
the  massive  door. 

In  and  about  the  town  are  many  caravanserais  erected 
for  the  accommodation  of  the  Meshed  pilgrims.  A  cara- 
vanserai is  simply  a  large  enclosed  yard,  always  with  flank 
towers  and  guarded  gate,  lined  inside  with  arched  recesses, 
the  floors  being  raised  three  feet  above  the  ground.  These 
serve  as  accommodation  for  travellers.  Behind  each  one 
is  a  small  covered  chamber  for  use  during  winter.  There 
are  large  vaulted  stables  for  horses  and  mules,  the  camels 
always  herding  in  a  compact  body  in  the  midst  of  the 
courtyard.  Over  the  gate  are  half-a-dozen  chambers  for 
the  better  class  of  travellers.  There  are  two  kinds  of 
caravanserais— those  built  by  Government  or  by  bequests 
of  charitable  individuals,  and  those  erected  by  private 
persons  who  make  a  living  by  supplying  forage,  &c.  In  a 
public  caravanserai  everyone  has  free  lodging  for  himself 
and  stabling  for  his  horses.  His  food  and  forage  he  of 
course  purchases,  and  from  the  sale  of  these  arise  the  only 
profits  of  the  guardian  of  the  establishment.  It  is  very 
much  the  same  way  with  the  private  establishments  ;  only 
that  well-to-do  people  are  expected  to  give  a  trifling  sum 
per  day  for  their  rooms.  These  latter  are  small  low  square 
chambers  with  floors  of  beaten  earth,  a  diminutive  fireplace, 
and  usually  three  unglazed  windows,  or  rather  doors,  oppo- 
site the  entry.  There  is  not  the  smallest  article  of  furni- 
ture of  any  kind.  There  are  a  number  of  square  recesses 
which  do  duty  for  presses  and  shelves.  The  traveller  is 
supposed  to  bring  everything  with  him ;  his  carpet,  which 
serves  to  sit  on  by  day  and  as  a  bed  by  night ;  his  cooking 
apparatus,  light,  and  food.  Firewood  he  can  purchase  in 
the  place ;  and  he  or  his  servant  does  the  cooking.    Before 


BITTEN  BY  THE  SHAB-GEZ.— REMEDIES.       393 

occupying  one  of  these  chambers  it  is  necessary  to  have  it 
carefully  swept  out,  as  the  last  occupant  has  generally  left 
behind  a  selection  of  animal  life,  acquaintance  with  which 
is  by  no  means  desirable.  It  is  best  not  to  have  lights  in 
the  evening,  for  they  attract  a  miscellaneous  crowd  of  noxious 
creeping  things — scorpions,  centipedes,  and  Persian  bugs. 

Since  my  arrival  at  this  town  I  had  been  suffering  from 
the  effects  of  a  bite  of  one  of  these  last-mentioned  pests, 
received  somewhere  on  the  road  from  Teheran,  notwith- 
standing all  the  precautions  which  I  took  to  avoid  such  a 
contingency.  On  the  day  on  which  I  arrived  at  Shahrood, 
I  felt  a  slight  soreness  on  the  inside  of  the  calf  of  my  leg, 
and  on  examining  the  place  found  a  small  purple  patch, 
surrounded  by  a  dun-coloured  circle.  This  gradually  swelled 
until  a  very  painful  tumour  was  formed.  Simultaneously 
I  was  attacked  by  strong  fever,  accompanied  by  head- 
ache and  severe  sickness.  As  I  had  been  previously 
recommended  to  do,  in  case  I  should  be  bitten,  I  took 
purgative  medicine  and  quinine,  and  soon  almost  recovered, 
with  the  exception  of  feeling  queer  pains  in  the  joints 
like  those  resulting  from  rheumatism.  Some  people  of 
the  town,  hearing  of  my  illness,  called  to  see  me,  and  I 
was  overwhelmed  with  advice  as  to  the  best  treatment  for 
my  malady.  By  one  I  was  advised  to  eat  some  clay  of  the 
place.  Another  recommended  making  up  a  few  of  the 
insects  themselves  in  bread  and  swallowing  them ;  and  a 
third  counselled  standing  on  my  head  frequently  and  then 
rolling  rapidly  on  the  floor.  But  the  oddest  remedy  of  all 
was  that  proposed  by  a  moullah,  or  priest,  who  also  prac- 
tised the  healing  art.  He  brought  with  him  a  large  net 
like  a  hammock,  in  which  he  proposed  to  envelop  me.  My 
head  was  to  be  allowed  to  protrude,  and  I  was  then  to  be 
hung  up  from  tl^e  branch  of  a  tree  in  the  garden.  When 
I  had  swallowed"  a  large  quantity  of  new  milk  I  was  to  be 


394  DISCIPLINE  FOR  BAKERS. 

turned  round  until  the  suspending  cords  were  well  twisted, 
and  then,  being  let  go,  to  be  allowed  to  spin  rapidly  round. 
This  operation  was  to  be  repeated  indefinitely  until  sickness 
was  produced,  when  other  measures  were  to  follow.  I 
declined,  however,  to  allow  myself  to  be  bagged  in  the 
proposed  manner,  especially  as  I  had  previously  heard  from 
my  friend  General  Schindler,  at  Teheran,  that  he  once  saw 
this  method  of  cure  tried  on  an  old  woman,  who,  when 
taken  down  for  supplementary  treatment,  was  found  to  be 
dead.  The  bite  of  this  villanous  insect  has  often  proved 
fatal. 

The  necessaries  of  life  here,  though  far  from  cheap,  had 
become  much  diminished  in  price  during  the  past  few 
months,  owing  to  the  plentiful  harvest  which  had  been 
gathered  in.  Bread  was  little  more  than  half  the  price  it 
was  at  Teheran,  and  it  had  not  been  found  necessary  to 
make  use  of  the  somewhat  violent,  if  effective,  repressive 
measures  adopted  at  the  capital  with  regard  to  the  bakers. 
There,  for  overcharging  for  bread,  their  noses  were  sum- 
marily cut  off,  or  their  ears  nailed  to  their  own  shop  doors. 
Several  instances  of  this  occurred  during  my  stay  there. 
At  Shahrood,  as  may  be  imagined,  life  is  not  very  gay  at 
ordinary  times.  My  only  distractions  were  watching  the 
mules  and  horses  quarrelling  in  the  yard  of  the  caravanserai, 
and  the  inhabitants  disputing  about  watercourses  in  the 
street.  I  have  already  mentioned  that  a  small  stream  runs 
down  the  main  thoroughfare.  Just  opposite  my  window  a 
dam  had  been  constructed,  furnished  with  two  rude  sluices 
of  turf  and  stones,  from  one  or  the  other  of  which  the  water 
was  made  to  flow  into  trenches  leading  to  garden  at 
different  levels.  There  seemed  to  be  no  rule  by  which  the 
supply  in  different  directions  was  regulated  ;  the  parties  who 
made  the  greatest  row  generally  succeeding  in  securing  the 
largest  amount.  At  all  hours  of  the  day  violent  disputes  were 


STRIFE  ABOUT  WATER—PILGRIM  CARAVANS.  395 

in  progress.  A  group  of  men  would  stand  barefooted  in  the 
water,  shouting  at,  dragging,  and  mauling  each  other,  and 
making,  if  possible,  more  noise  than  the  quarrelsome  horses 
in  the  yard  close  by.  They  snatch  off  each  other's  hats 
and  skull-caps,  brandish  primitive-looking  spades  in  each 
other's  faces,  call  upon  Allah  and  the  twelve  holy  Imams, 
and  mutual  massacre  seems  on  the  point  of  ensuing.  Then 
one  party  goes  away  suddenly,  as  if  convinced  of  the  moral 
impossibility  of  the  other  daring  to  meddle  with  the  sluices. 
Immediately  on  their  departure  the  others  set  to  work  and 
arrange  things  to  their  own  liking,  going  away  in  their 
turn.  In  two  minutes  the  first  set,  finding  their  water 
supply  diminishing,  return  furiously  and  demolish  the  work 
of  their  rivals.  A  repetition  of  this  kind  of  thing  seems  to 
be  the  normal  state  of  affairs  with  regard  to  this  unfortunate 
dam. 

Once  a  month  Shahrood  is  enlivened  by  the  arrival  of 
a  caravan  of  pilgrims  from  every  part  of  Persia,  on  their 
way  to  the  shrine  of  Imam  Eiza  at  Meshed.  During  my 
stay  great  throngs  of  hadjis  poured  into  the  town,  arriving 
by  the  Teheran  road.  Shahrood  is,  it  seems,  the  rallying 
point  of  the  various  parties.  Eastward  of  this  they  all  keep 
together,  moving  under  protection  of  a  military  force; 
for,  after  leaving  Shahrood,  raiding  parties  of  Turcomans 
are  to  be  met  with.  The  new  comers  were  some  on  foot, 
some  on  horseback,  and  a  very  large  number,  too,  on  asses. 
There  were  very  many  women,  who,  when  not  mounted  on 
asses  or  mules,  were  carried  in  kedjavis,  hamper-like  litters, 
slung  one  on  each  side  of  a.  camel  or  mule,  and  usually 
covered  by  a  sunshade.  Fully  half  the  pilgrims — and  I 
was  informed  that  three  thousand  had  arrived  already — 
were  Arabs  from  Baghdad,  Basra,  and  other  points  in  Turkish 
territory  adjoining  Persia.  It  is  curious  to  see  so  many 
of  a  people  like  the  Arabs,  who,  as  a  rule,  are  strictly 


396  PILGRIMS  AND  DERVISHES. 

Sunnite,  like  the  Osmanli  Turks,  under  whose  dominion 
they  live,  joining  in  a  pilgrimage  with  the  Shiites  to  a  com- 
mon shrine.  These  Arabs  wore  the  national  costume — a 
flowing  garment  reaching  to  the  heels,  and  on  the  head  a 
bright-coloured  handkerchief,  falling  to  the  shoulders,  and 
kept  in  place  by  a  thick  ring  of  twisted  camel  hair,  placed 
over  it  like  a  diadem.  The  women  wear  very  dark-coloured 
mantles,  which  envelop  them  from  head  to  foot,  but  they 
do  not  carry  the  yashmak  or  veil  like  the  Turks  and  Persians. 
People  from  almost  every  part  of  Persia  and  the  trans- 
Caucasus  were  to  be  found  mingled  with  these  Arabs.  They 
filled  all  the  caravanserais,  and  crowded  every  nook  where 
refuge  could  be  obtained  from  the  intensely  hot  sun.  The 
Arabs  mostly  camped  along  the  edge  of  the  watercourse, 
under  the  shade  of  jujube  and  chenar  trees;  and  those 
that  had  women  and  children  with  them  erected  rough 
screens  by  means  of  quilts  and  mantles  supported  on  sticks. 
To  swell  the  throng  already  in  the  town,  the  Governor  of 
Meshed  and  the  Hakim  of  Dawkban,  with  their  retinues, 
had  come  in ;  pavilion  tents  were  planted  in  the  streets,  and 
hundreds  of  horses  were  tethered  in  every  direction.  Amidst 
all  this  moved  a  number  of  dervishes,  those  inseparable 
adjuncts  of  all  gatherings  of  people  in  the  East.  Some  were 
instructing  groups  of  pilgrims  in  the  formula  to  be  repeated 
at  the  shrine  of  Meshed  for  the  thorough  accomplishment 
of  the  duties  of  a  hadji ;  others  related  wonderful  tales  to 
an  eager  gathering  of  listeners;  and  others,  the  more 
numerous,  simply  went  about  pestering  everyone  for  alms. 
These  dervishes  all  wear  their  hair  flowing  on  their  shoulders 
like  Russian  priests,  and  a  curious  dome-shaped  tiara  of 
coloured  stuff.  Each  carries  some  kind  of  an  offensive 
weapon — a  hatchet,  lance,  iron-headed  mace,  or  heavy 
knotted  stick,  as  the  case  may  be.  As  yet  only  three 
thousand  pilgrims  had  arrived ;  two  thousand  more  were 


PILGRIMS  AND   THEIR  ESCORT.  397 

expected  on  the  morrow  or  the  day  after.  With  such  a 
monthly  influx  of  pilgrims  and  their  beasts  of  burden, 
often,  I  was  informed,  much  more  numerous,  not  to  speak 
of  the  returning  hadjis,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  that  Shah- 
rood,  where  they  generally  stay  for  a  couple  of  days,  should 
thrive  tolerably. 

Immediately  after  the  last  batches  of  the  pilgrims  came 
the  military  escort,  the  like  of  which  it  would  be  difficult  to 
match  elsewhere.  First  came  a  herd  of  nearly  one  hundred 
diminutive  asses,  bearing  an  equal  number  of  nondescript- 
looking  men,  dressed  in  garments  of  various  fashions  and 
colours.  Each  carried  an  old-fashioned  musket.  This 
first  detachment  was  one  of  mounted  infantry.  Next 
came  a  body  of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  persons  on 
horseback,  each  carrying  a  very  lengthy  Persian-made 
rifle,  having  attached  to  it  a  wooden  fork,  the  prongs 
tipped  with  iron.  This  fork  is  stuck  in  the  ground  when 
the  soldier  wishes  to  fire.  These  appendages  fold  upwards, 
the  two  points  projecting  ten  inches  beyond  the  muzzle  of 
the  gun,  and  giving  it  at  a  distance  the  appearance  of  a 
hayfork.  Whether  when  in  this  position  it  is  used  in  lieu  of 
a  bayonet  or  not,  I  was  unable  to  ascertain.  These  cavaliers 
were,  I  suppose,  dragoons  of  some  kind,  who  dismount 
going  into  action,  otherwise  they  could  not  make  use  of 
their  forks.  They  were  dressed  with  still  less  uniformity 
than  their  predecessors  on  the  asses.  In  fact,  in  the  entire 
cavalcade  there  was  not  even  an  attempt  at  uniform. 
Some  wore  long  boots  of  brown  leather,  others  had  slippers 
turned  up  at  the  toes ;  and  a  considerable  number  had  no 
pantaloons  worth  mentioning.  Close  behind  these  latter 
horsemen  came  the  great  element  of  the  cavalcade,  the 
artillery,  represented  by  one  brass  smooth-bore  four-pounder 
on  a  field  carriage,  and  drawn  by  six  horses ;  and  at  the 
immediate  rear  of  this  rode  a  man  in  a  tattered  blue  and 


39*  THE  ARTILLERY, 

red  calico  tunic,  blowing  furiously  on  a  battered  bugle, 
painted  red  inside  like  a  child's  halfpenny  trumpet.  This 
four-pounder  was  evidently  the  piece  de  resistance,  and  as  it 
passed  the  bystanders  gazed  on  it  with  awe-struck  imagina- 
tions. Behind  the  gun  came  a  takderavan,  or  large  wooden 
box  with  glazed  windows  borne  on  two  horses,  one  before 
and  one  behind.  Then  came  mules,  each  bearing  two 
kedjaves  covered  with  crimson  cloth.  These  contained  the 
more  opulent  of  the  pilgrims  with  their  wives  and  families. 
About  one  hundred  mounted  men  followed,  a  few  of  whom 
had,  strange  to  say,  Martini-Henry  rifles  slung  at  their 
backs,  but  to  each  of  which  the  pair  of  prongs  had  been 
appended.  Another  hundred  horsemen  came  dropping  in 
at  intervals,  some  escorting  tents,  others  in  charge  of 
cooking  utensils.  This  mingled  and  motley  throng  of 
hadjis,  troops,  camels,  mules,  asses,  and  dervishes  went 
streaming  by  for  hours,  each  section  of  the  column  so 
completely  resembling  another  that  one  fancied  they  must, 
like  a  stage  procession,  be  only  '  making  believe,'  and  that 
they  were  simply  wheeling  round  the  corner  to  return 
again. 

The  town  was  as  full  as  it  could  hold ;  I  could  not 
imagine  where  the  extra  two  thousand  who  would  arrive  on 
the  morrow  could  be  accommodated.  There  was  not  an  inch 
of  room  to  spare  in  any  caravanserai,  and  the  bakers  were 
forced  to  work  with  a  diligence  which,  as  Persians,  must 
have  been  very  distasteful  to  them.  By  an  odd  coincidence 
this  caravan  of  hadjis  going  to  the  shrine  of  Imam  Eiza 
at  Meshed,  arrived  almost  simultaneously  with  a  score  or 
so  of  natives  of  Bokhara,  on  their  way  to  the  Prophet's 
tomb  at  Mecca.  These  latter  stayed  in  the  same  caravan- 
serai with  me.  They  came  by  way  of  BaJkh,  Maimana, 
Herat,  and  Meshed,  to  avoid  passing  through  the  Tekke 
country.     They  informed  me  that   considerable  numbers 


CHANGE  OF  PLANS.  399 

of  Tekk6s  were  taking  refuge  in  Persia,  to  avoid  the 
impending  Russian  attack.  It  will  be  an  ill  day  for  the 
people  among  whom  these  voluntary  exiles  take  refuge, 
unless  there  be  close  by  some  military  power  capable  of 
restraining  their  marauding  tendencies.  It  has  been 
found  impossible  to  reduce  to  order  such  of  their  nation 
even  as  habitually  live  on  Persian  soil  and  acknowledge 
the  Shah  as  their  Sovereign.  They  are  somewhat  like 
the  Circassians  established  on  the  shores  of  the  Sea  of 
Marmora  and  the  Greek  frontier,  who  seemed  to  believe 
that  they  had  a  prescriptive  right  to  harry  and  rob  the 
people  of  the  neighbourhood  which  they  honoured  with  their 
presence.  In  view  of  their  doings  from  time  immemorial, 
it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  Persians  of  this  line  of 
country  looked  forward  with  intense  delight  to  the  prospect 
of  the  Tekk6s  receiving  a  condign  punishment  during  the 
ensuing  campaign  in  the  Akhal  Tekke  country. 

For  two  days  I  tried  in  vain  to  find  a  man  with  an  ass  or 
a  mule  to  carry  my  tent,  and  accompany  me  along  the  road 
to  Budjnoord.  Twice  I  had  men  engaged ;  and  twice  the 
bargain  was  broken  off,  on  the  score  that  the  road  was  too 
dangerous,  and  that  Tekk6s  were  to  be  found  along  it.  I 
consequently  changed  my  plans,  and  determined  to  reach 
Budjnoord  by  a  circuitous  route,  vid  the  town  of  Sabzavar 
on  the  Meshed  road.  From  Sabzavar  I  could  easily  reach 
either  Euchan  or  Budjnoord  across  the  mountains. 
Following  this  route  would  also  give  me  an  opportunity  of 
witnessing  the  march  of  a  hadji  caravan.  We  started  at  a 
little  before  sunset,  that  being  the  usual  time  for  setting  out 
on  a  journey  in  Persia,  so  as  to  avoid  the  extreme  mid-day 
heats. 


4»  STARTING  WITH  THE  PILGRIMS. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A  PILGRIM  CARAVAN. 

Leaving  Shahrood — Beset  by  mendicants — '  Where  is  the  tkob  ? ' — Starlight 
march — Novel  mode  of  sleeping — Warlike  appearance  of  caravan — Maiamid 
— Itinerant  butchers — Religions  drama — Persian  dervishes — Waiting  for 
the  escort — An  Eastern  row — Besieged  in  a  ehappar  hatU — '  By  your  beard, 
Emir' — A  present  from  the  governor — Religions  buffoonery — Moullahs 
and  dervishes — A  weird  procession — Mule  bells — Our  piece  of  artillery — 
A  dangerous  pass — A  panic — Returning  pilgrims — A  halt. 

It  was  near  six  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  I  started  from 
Shahrood  by  the  Meshed  road,  on  my  way  to  the  Akhal 
Tekk6  border.  I  had  resolved  to  go  as  far  as  possible  with 
the  great  monthly  caravan  of  pilgrims,  both  because  the 
road  is  better  than  the  mountain  one,  and  with  a  view  of 
being  able  to  describe  a  pilgrim-caravan  on  its  way  to  one 
of  the  most  celebrated  shrines  of  the  East — that  of  Imam 
Eiza.  Another  great  advantage  was  that  the  post  from 
Meshed  passed  regularly  along  this  route  every  week,  so 
that  I  was  in  direct  communication  with  Teheran,  and 
through  that  place  with  Europe. 

An  hour  before  my  departure,  my  quarters  in  the 
caravanserai  were  regularly  besieged  by  dervishes  of  every 
description,  not  to  mention  beggars  of  the  ordinary  kind, 
and  it  was  only  by  a  liberal  distribution  of  small  copper 
coins  called  pools  and  shahis  that  I  succeeded  in  buying 
myself  off.  For  three  or  four  miles  eastward  of  Shahrood 
the  plain  is  exceedingly  well  cultivated,  as,  indeed,  it  must 
need  be,  in  order  to  support  not  only  the  indigenous  popula- 


MENDICANTS.  401 

tion  of  the  place,  but  also  to  supply  food  and  forage  for  the 
enormous  number  of  pilgrims,  with  their  camels,  horses, 
and  asses,  which  pass  annually  through  the  place.  To  the 
left  of  the  road,  a  mile  away,  are  low  hills,  the  watershed  of 
the  Giurgen,  each  available  summit  being  crowned  with  a 
watch-tower,  and  in  some  cases  by  a  good-sized  fortalice. 
The  military  precautions  deemed  necessary  to  ensure  the 
safe  passage  of  the  caravans  speak  eloquently  of  what  must 
have  been  the  state  of  things  previously  to  the  present  com- 
paratively safe  period.  An  endless  succession  of  mud  walls 
line  the  road  eastward  from  Shahrood,  and  occasionally  the 
way  becomes  practically  the  same  as  a  watercourse.  On 
leaving  my  caravanserai  I  thought  I  was  rid  of  the  mendicant 
and  dervish  nuisance,  but  I  soon  discovered  my  mistake. 
Taking  short  cuts  across  the  fields,  they  had  posted  them- 
selves at  different  points  of  vantage  along  the  narrow  path, 
from  which  they  not  only  recommenced  their  importunities, 
but  almost  made  use  of  physical  force  to  arrest  my  horse. 
There  were  dervishes  with  beards  stained  of  a  fiery-red 
colour,  and  wearing  queer  conical  hats,  who,  if  they  did  not 
regularly  belong  to  the  howling  sect  of  Constantinople,  most 
decidedly  showed  themselves  qualified  for  admission  to  it  by 
the  fashion  in  which  they  yelled,  screamed,  and  groaned, 
exhorting  me  in  the  name  of  the  blessed  Ali,  and  the  Imams 
Hassan  and  Hussein,  not  forgetting  Haziret  Abass,  and 
many  other  holy  people,  to  give  them  charity.  Then  there 
were  the  old,  the  blind,  and  the  lame — men,  women,  and 
children—hanging  on  to  my  stirrup  and  seizing  my  bridle. 
Some  were  horribly  deformed,  and  it  seemed  marvellous 
that  they  should  have  undergone  such  apparently  frightful 
disasters  as  were  necessary  to  reduce  them  to  their  then 
present  mutilated  condition,  and  yet  continue  to  exist. 
They  seemed  to  consider  that  in  my  supposed  quality  of 
hadji  on  my  way  to  Meshed  I  must  be  bursting  with  the 
vol.  1.  dd 


402  ON  THE  MARCH. 

desire  to  distribute  all  my  worldly  property  to  the  first 
comers  who  might  think  fit  to  ask  me  for  it.  As  I  slowly 
forced  my  way  through  this  very  disagreeable  throng,  I 
could  not  help  comparing  myself  to  the  youth  depicted  in 
allegorical  frontispieces  of  books  of  high  moral  tone  of  the 
last  century,  and  who  is  represented  as  endeavouring  to 
make  his  way,  book  under  arm,  to  the  temple  of  fame, 
seen  at  a  distance  on  the  top  of  a  hill,  a  collection  of 
ill-looking  distorted  fiends  on  either  side  the  road  grinning 
and  grabbing  at  him  and  otherwise  trying  to  impede  his 
progress. 

As  I  cleared  the  walls  and  gardens  the  sun  was  setting, 
and,  as  is  usual  here,  a  violent  wind  from  the  north-east 
commenced  blowing,  driving  the  sand  and  small  gravel  in 
one's  face  in  a  very  unpleasant  manner.  I  overtook  half-a- 
dozen  persons  on  horseback,  the  great  bulk  of  the  first  de- 
tachment of  pilgrims  having  started  about  an  hour  before  I 
set  out.  Later,  I  found  them  assembled  amid  the  ruins  of 
a  village  some  ten  miles  further  on.  Here  there  was  a  stream 
of  good  water,  and  hadjis  were  watering  their  animals  and 
making  ready  for  a  dreary  tramp  of  thirty  miles  across  an 
arid  plain,  where  not  a  drop  of  water  would  be  found.  The 
party  with  which  I  came  up  consistechof  about  two  thousand 
persons,  partly  on  foot,  and  partly  mounted  on  various 
animals.  Many  of  the  former  were  mere  children,  and 
carried  great  packs  on  their  backs.  The  utmost  confusion 
prevailed  as  the  mass  of  camels  and  mules  tried  to  get  into 
motion.  Most  of  them  carried  litters  full  of  women  and 
children,  and  every  one  seemed  to  have  some  companion  or 
friend  from  whom  he  or  she  had  become  separated  in  the 
dark.  Each  individual  in  the  crowd  was  calling  out  *  Hadji ! ' 
or  '  Meshedi !'  as  if  he  supposed  his  friend  must  recognise 
that  he  alone  out  of  the  couple  of  thousand  present,  all  of 
whom  were  entitled  to  the  name,  was  addressed.    One  Arab, 


WANTON  DESTRUCTION  403 

in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  came  np  to  me,  and  asked, 
'  Hadji)  can  you  tell  me  where  the  thob  (cannon)  is  ? '  He 
seemed  most  anxious  to  be  as  near  this,  to  his  mind,  omni- 
potent engine  as  possible.  After  a  good  deal  of  delay  we 
got  started,  and  from  that  point  forward  kept  as  much 
together  as  possible,  for  mutual  protection ;  the  gun  and 
military  force  having  remained  behind  waiting  for  the  three 
thousand  pilgrims  expected  on  the  next  day,  and  who  were 
to  join  us  at  Maiamai,  our  first  halting-place  after  Shahrood, 
and  beyond  which  the  serious  danger  from  Turcomans  and 
professional  robbers  is  supposed  to  begin.  It  was  a  long, 
weary  march  across  a  dry,  stony,  trackless  plain,  the  dim 
starlight  only  just  enabling  us  to  keep  along  the  telegraph 
posts,  our  only  guide.  How  strange  seemed  these  vestiges 
of  advanced  civilisation  in  the  midst  of  such  surroundings  ! 
I  wonder  how  many  of  the  motley  throng  that  watched 
beneath  those  murmuring  wires  had  even  the  faintest 
notion  of  the  manner  in  which  they  worked.  The  condition 
of  the  line  was  such  that  it  puzzled  me  to  guess  how 
messages  could  be  transmitted  along  the  wires.  The  insu- 
lators were  dilapidated  in  a  manner  incomprehensible  to 
me  at  first,  but  which  was  accounted  for  when  I  learned  that 
they  were  regarded  by  the  natives  as  excellent  objects  on 
which  to  test  their  skill  as  marksmen.  A  similar  practice, 
I  am  told,  once  prevailed  among  the  roughs  of  the  western 
plains  in  the  United  States.  The  Shah's  Government  do 
their  best  to  repress  such  amusements,  and  shortly  before 
my  arrival  two  natives  had  been  sentenced  to  imprisonment 
for  life  for  thus  tampering  with  the  mysterious  modern 
improvements.  The  poles,  too,  are  often  half  rotten,  and 
in  one  place  for  a  foil  half  mile  the  wire  was  supported 
on  iron  hooks  absolutely  without  insulators. 

During  our  weary  slow  march  of  forty  miles  we  had 
but  one  halt — that  at  the  ruined  village ;  and  the  only  thing 

D  D  2 


404  PIPE  LIGHTING— SLEEP  Y  RIDERS. 

in  the  shape  of  refreshment,  if  I  can  give  it  that  name, 
partaken  of  by  the  hadjis  was  an  occasional  smoke  of  the 
water-pipe.  L  manner  of  lighting  this  pipe  on  horseback 
is  curious,  and  I  don't  recollect  ever  having  seen  it  described. 
Some  pieces  of  charcoal  are  placed  in  a  small  wire  basket 
as  big  as  a  hen's  egg,  and  attached  to  the  end  of  a  string  a 
yard  long.  Some  tinder  is  lighted  with  a  flint  and  steel, 
and  placed  among  the  charcoal.  The  basket  is  then  whirled 
rapidly  round  by  means  of  the  string  until  the  charcoal  is 
thoroughly  ignited,  and  the  pipe  is  then  kindled.  On  a 
very  dark  night,  when  the  road  is  very  bad,  the  horseman 
lights  his  way  by  placing  tow  or  cotton  in  the  little  basket, 
which,  when  whirled,  gives  light  enough  to  enable  one  to 
keep  out  of  holes  and  ruts,  or  from  falling  over  precipices. 
All  night  long,  as  we  wound  slowly  across  the  desert,  the 
kaliouns  might  be  seen  gleaming  at  intervals  in  the  dark 
column,  sending  meteor-like  trains  of  sparks  behind  it  on 
every  gust  of  the  evening  breeze.  As  the  moon  rose  I  was 
able  to  take  a  look  at  my  companions.  Very  many, 
mounted  on  the  most  diminutive  of  asses,  were  fast  asleep, 
their  arms  clasping  the  necks  of  the  animals,  and  more 
than  once  we  heard  the  '  thud '  of  some  somnolent  rider 
falling  to  the  ground.  Some  laid  themselves  like  sacks 
across  the  asses'  backs,  and  thus  managed  to  sleep  comfort- 
ably. The  march  was  a  tiresome  one,  even  to  one  mounted 
on  horseback,  and  I  dismounted  more  than  once  to  stretch 
my  legs.  I  could  not  help  envying  the  people  who  were 
snugly  stowed  away  in  their  kedjaves,  sleeping  comfortably ; 
though  of  course  the  cramped  position  of  the  legs  necessary 
in  such  a  conveyance  would  be  rather  inconvenient  for  a 
European,  especially  if  he  were  forced  to  adopt  it  for  twelve 
hours  at  a  time.  The  pilgrims  on  foot  kept  up  bravely, 
and  generally  led  the  van,  though  each  carried  ail  his 
travelling  necessaries  on  his  back.     Just  as  the  sun  rose  we 


MAI  AMID- COMMISSARIAT.  405 

came  in  sight  of  our  menzil,  or  halting-place,  the  village  or 
town  of  Maiamai.  In  its  neighbourhood  on  all  sides  were 
fields  of  corn,  and  running  water  abounded.  We  passed 
some  large  camel  trains  laden  with  cotton,  on  their  way  to 
Shahrood  and  Asterabad.  As  we  rode  along  in 'the  pale 
morning  light,  each  member  of  the  caravan  bristling  with 
arms,  we  had  much  more  the  air  of  a  hostile  expedition 
marching  against  the  village  than  a  troop  of  pious  hadjis 
on  our  way  to  a  shrine. 

Maiamai,  or  Maiamid,  is  not  quite  so  large  as  Shahrood, 
but  is  still  a  considerable  place.  It  is  strongly  fortified 
after  the  fashion  of  the  country,  and  contains  a  caravan- 
serai of  baked  brick,  exceedingly  well  built,  and  quite  a 
fortress  in  its  way.  It  has  embrasures  for  cannon,  and  the 
bricks  around  them  are  well  dotted  with  Turcoman  bullet- 
marks.  Within  it  is  the  telegraph  station.  This  cara- 
vanserai was  speedily  crowded  to  overflowing  by  the 
pilgrims,  those  who  could  not  find  accommodation  there 
camping  under  the  shade  of  a  row  of  large  chenar  trees 
close  by.  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  secure  the  little  room 
over  the  entrance-gate  of  the  post-house.  It  was  but  ten 
feet  square,  and  apart  from  the  door  were  two  windows  of 
equal  size,  at  opposite  sides  of  the  room,  none  of  the  three 
openings  having  any  means  of  being  closed.  The  Arab 
contingent  of  our  party  was  camped  close  by.  Owing  to  the 
great  influx  of  pilgrims,  food  was  very  dear— that  is,  for 
the  country — a  very  poor  fowl  costing  over  a  shilling. 
Some  butchers  had  found  it  worth  their  while  to  accom- 
pany the  pilgrims  for  the  sake  of  the  amount  of  meat  they 
could  sell  them ;  and  shortly  after  our  arrival  half-a-dozen 
sheep  were  ready  skinned  and  cleaned.  Without  this  supply 
fresh  meat  would  be  unattainable,  as  the  inhabitants  of  the 
place  scarcely  ever  eat  flesh.  When  the  party  had  reposed 
a  little  after  the  long  night's  march,  and  had  eaten  their 


406  RELIGIOUS  DRAMA 

morning  meal,  the  rolling  of  a  drum  was  heard  under  the 
chenar  trees,  and  a  crowd  began  to  assemble.  A  scene  in 
the  religions  drama  founded  on  the  massacre  of  the  Imams 
Hassan  and  Hussein  was  about  to  be  acted.  This  play, 
which  seems  to  enter  into  the  programme  of  all  Persian 
religious  festivities  whatever,  and  which  is  an  exact  Mussul- 
man counterpart  of  the  mediaeval  mystery  plays,  is  exceed- 
ingly long,  the  proper  representation  of  the  piece  requiring 
a  daily  performance  of  a  couple  of  hours  for  weeks  at  a 
time.  As  the  pilgrims  march  they  are  treated  to  one  act 
at  each  halting-place  throughout  the  journey.  At  the  third 
roll  of  the  drum  the  actors  make  their  appearance.  First 
came  a  black-bearded  fellow,  dressed  in  the  ancient  Sara- 
cenic fashion  in  a  coat  of  chain  mail  over  a  long  green 
gown,  long  brown  leather  boots,  and  a  spiked  hemispherical 
helmet,  round  which  was  a  crimson  handkerchief,  rolled 
turbanwise.  He  was  armed  with  a  formidable-looking 
curved  scimitar,  and  was  followed  by  a  man  who  seemed 
to  have  picked  up  somewhere  a  British  soldier's  scarlet 
uniform  with  dark  blue  facings.  There  was  a  tall  man  who 
seemed  to  represent  a  king.  Two  boys  were  dressed  as 
women,  for  their  religion  does  not  allow  persons  of  the 
female  sex  to  take  part  in  such  proceedings.  Another  man 
mounted  on  a  white  horse  wore  a  huge  blue  turban,  and 
held  a  child  in  his  arms.  There  was  a  good  deal  of 
monotonous  chanting  and  declamatory  singing,  coupled 
with  a  stage  compact  between  the  man  in  armour  and  the 
other  in  the  red  coat,  a  good  deal  of  going  to  and  fro  of  the 
white  horse  and  its  rider,  and,  after  an  hour  or  so,  the 
acting  wound  up  by  a  collection  of  money  from  the  on- 
lookers. The  singing  was  to  my  mind  most  monotonous 
and  dirge-like,  or  else  ridiculously  pompous,  and  with  a 
vast  interlarding  of  '  Allah  Mahomet '  in  a  disagreeable 
nasal  tone.     There  was,  however,  a  kind  of  sword  song  by 


DERVISHES— AN  ALARM.  407 

the  man  in  the  helmet,  which  he  accentuated  by  touching 
the  blade  of  his  sword  with  a  roll  of  paper,  and  which  in 
air  resembled  one  of  the  old  French  romaunts  de  gestes. 
When  the  actors  had  departed,  several  dervishes  divided 
the  attention  of  the  crowd.  Some  gave  religious  instruc- 
tions ;  others  narrated  funny  stories  to  any  who  would 
listen  to  and  pay  them ;  others,  again,  played  juggling 
tricks,  and  vended  small  articles,  such  as  plated  ear- 
rings, combs,  and  medical  nostrums.  The  Persian 
dervish  is  a  jack-of-all-trades.  He  acts  as  priest,  mounte- 
bank at  a  fair,  story-teller,  pedlar,  ox  doctor,  as  occasion 
may  require.  At  bottom  he  is  generally  a  sharp  fellow, 
living  comfortably  by  his  wits,  despite  the  external  squalor 
which  some  of  the  confraternity  affect. 

Evening  was  now  close  at  hand,  and,  it  having  been 
announced  that  we  were  to  start  at  sunset,  I  had  everything 
got  ready.  Then  a  council  of  the  principal  hadjis  was  held, 
and  it  was  decided  to  wait  for  the  remainder  of  the  pilgrims, 
the  cannon,  and  the  troops,  previous  to  venturing  through 
a  mountain  pass  about  six  miles  further  on,  where  caravans 
had  been  repeatedly  assailed  and  plundered  by  Turcomans. 
Our  escort  was  to  arrive  shortly,  and  to  take  post  in  the 
dangerous  ravines.  Then,  when  the  moon  had  risen,  the 
hadjis  and  the  cannon  were  to  come  on.  At  midnight,  just 
as  I  thought  the  starting  time  had  certainly  come,  in 
marched  the  soldiers  back  from  their  strategic  position. 
Some  one  had  brought  word  that  twenty-five  mounted 
Turcomans  had  been  seen  hovering  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
dangerous  ground  !  Though  we  were  two  thousand  strong, 
and  had  a  company  of  soldiers  with  us,  it  was  resolved  to 
wait  for  the  cannon  and  the  remainder  of  the  pilgrims, 
which  would  swell  our  numbers  to  over  five  thousand. 
This  incident  will  help  to  convey  a  notion  of  the  intense 
dread  of  Turcomans  with  which  Persians  are  inspired.    We 


408  HADJIS  QUARRELLING. 

accordingly  made  up  our  minds  to  go  to  bed,  and  wait  for 
the  following  evening,  marching  during  the  day  seemingly 
being  a  thing  not  to  be  dreamed  of  for  a  moment.  Besides, 
the  second  detachment  of  pilgrims  would  not  arrive  until 
daybreak,  and  would  need  a  day's  rest  before  proceeding 
any  further.  The  next  day  passed  very  much  like  the  pre- 
ceding one,  save  that  the  morning  was  enlivened  by  an 
incident  which  at  one  moment  threatened  to  put  an  end  to 
my  further  pilgrimage.  About  eight  o'clock,  as  I  was 
sitting  cross-legged  on  my  carpet,  writing  some  notes,  I 
heard  a  sudden  and  violent  hubbub  in  the  open  space  in 
front  of  my  window,  under  the  trees.  The  Arab  contingent 
and  a  number  of  Persians  were  charging  about,  furiously 
belabouring  each  other  with  sticks.  It  appeared  that  some 
dispute  had  arisen  between  the  Baghdad  Arabs  and  the 
Teheran  pilgrims,  and  that  hot  words  had  been  spoken 
as  to  the  relative  merits  of  their  respective  countries. 
Each,  in  his  quality  of  hadji,  carried  a  staff  five  feet  long 
and  about  two  and  a  half  inches  thick  at  the  stouter  end, 
and  the  hadjis,  having  got  excited,  were  banging  each  other 
with  their  pilgrims'  staves.  At  first  I  thought  it  was  some 
rude  play,  a  kind  of  *  baiting  the  bear,'  such  as  I  had  seen 
practised  among  the  Turcomans,  and  in  which  rather  severe 
knocks  are  given  and  received  with  the  utmost  good  humour. 
However,  I  soon  discovered  by  the  number  of  holy  persons 
stretched  on  the  ground  that  'bateing'  in  a  Hibernian 
sense  was  going  on.  Gradually  the  Arabs  became  very 
much  excited,  and  behaved  like  mad  people,  jumping, 
dancing,  and  shouting  the  tecbir,  or  Arab  war-cry.  Matters 
were  getting  bad  for  the  Teheranis,  when  the  latter  drew 
their  swords  and  handjars.  Notwithstanding  this  unfair 
advantage,  however,  they  were  scattered  and  beaten  off  the 
field,  and  forced  to  take  refuge  in  every  direction,  some 
rushing  into  the  chappar  hane  in  which  I  was  staying. 


BESIEGED  IN  A  POST-HOUSE.  409 

The  Arabs  now  assembled  together,  showing  each  other  the 
stabs  and  cuts  which  they  had  received  from  the  Persians ; 
and  they  seemed  to  come  to  the  resolution  to  pay  them 
back  in  their  own  coin.  They  rushed  off  in  search  of 
weapons,  and  speedily  reassembled.  At  this  juncture  my 
servant  unluckily  happened  to  go  out  in  search  of  corn  for 
the  horses.  He  wore  at  his  belt  a  large  broad-bladed 
handjar,  upon  spying  which  an  Arab  woman  cried  out  that 
he  was  one  of  the  people  who  had  used  deadly  weapons, 
and  immediately  hurled  a  large  paving-stone  at  him.  Then 
the  whole  crowd  set  upon  him.  He  retreated  hurriedly  to 
the  chpppar  hane,  the  doors  of  which  were  closed  before  the 
Arabs  could  get  in.  These  latter  then  tried  to  smash  in 
the  door,  shrieking  out  that  they  would  massacre  every  one 
within  the  place.  The  Teheran  pilgrims  within  now  showed 
themselves  on  the  ramparts,  and  commenced  abusing  the 
assailants  in  unmeasured  terms.  The  Arabs  thereupon 
renewed  their  efforts  to  break  the  door,  and  showered  bricks 
and  stones  on  the  ramparts,  and  also  into  my  room.  In  a 
twinkling  the  floor  was  covered  with  missiles,  and  mud  fell 
in  heaps  with  each  concussion  ;  my  servant  rushed  into  the 
chamber,  his  face  all  bloody  and  disfigured  from  a  blow  of 
a  great  stone.  I  showed  myself,  thinking  that  my  European 
costume  would  induce  the  Arabs  to  desist.  I  called  on 
them  to  go  away ;  but  all  to  no  purpose.  I  was  made  the 
target  for  over  a  hundred  stone-throwers.  The  attack 
redoubled,  and  the  assailants  showed  signs  of  being  about  to 
attempt  an  escalade.  I  felt  certain  that  if  they  got  in  we 
should  be  all  lost,  so  I  sprang  for  my  revolver  and  sword, 
and,  posting  myself  at  a  loophole  of  a  flanking  tower,  pre- 
pared to  fire  at  the  first  who  attempted  to  climb.  Meantime, 
I  cried  out  to  some  neutral  spectators  to  run  and  fetch  the 
Governor,  and  to  tell  him  that  our  lives  were  in  danger. 
This  functionary  arrived  in  a  few  minutes,  bringing  with 


410    RECRIMINATIONS— AN  ODD  ASSEVERATION. 

him  a  force  of  armed  men,  who  put  a  stop  to  the  attack. 
Then  the  Governor,  together  with  the  Arab  chiefs  and  about 
twenty  of  their  men,  came  up  to  my  room.  I  produced  my 
pass  from  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  at  Teheran  and 
complained  that  I  had  been  attacked  in  my  room  without 
provocation.  The  Arabs  responded  by  exhibiting  their 
wounds,  and  horrid  gashes  some  of  them  were.  Notwith- 
standing the  thick  rolls  of  camel-hair,  handkerchiefs  and 
skull-caps,  some  of  the  scalp  wounds  were  very  deep.  One 
man's  thumb  was  nearly  severed  from  his  hand.  '  And/ 
said  one  of  the  chiefs,  '  the  cowards  drew  weapons  on  us, 
who  had  only  sticks  in  our  hands;  pretty  Mussulmans 
these ! '  The  Arabs  now  formally  apologised  to  me  for 
having  thrown  stones  at  me,  stating  that  they  did  not  know 
I  was  a  stranger,  but  at  the  same  time  charged  my  servant 
with  being  one  of  the  persons  who  wounded  them.  They 
swore  that  they  recognised  him,  and  one  went  so  far  as  to 
swear  by  my  beard,  which  he  laid  hold  of  in  an  alarming 
manner.  '  By  your  beard,  Emir/  he  said,  *  it  is  true.'  How- 
ever, we  settled  the  matter  peacefully,  the  Arabs  promising 
not  to  bear  any  spite  against  the  Teheranis.  So  ended  a 
matter  which  at  one  moment  threatened  to  conclude  dis- 
agreeably enough.  The  Governor,  Mahomet  Khan,  a  little 
old  man,  requested  me  to  give  him  a  paper  bearing  my  seal, 
stating  that  he  had  promptly  and  effectually  suppressed  the 
riot.  This  I  did  with  pleasure.  Shortly  after  his  with- 
drawal he  sent  me,  in  true  Eastern  fashion,  a  present  of 
fruit  and  bread,  on  a  large  silver  tray,  covered  over  with  an 
embroidered  cloth,  and  escorted  by  three  servants. 

Apart  from  this  little  episode,  the  day  passed  off  as  that 
preceding  it.  The  second  contingent  of  pilgrims  had 
arrived,  among  them  being  many  women,  evidently  of  the 
better  classes,  to  judge  from  the  size  and  magnificence  of 
their  tents  and  the  numbers  of  their  attendants.      The 


AN  AGGRA  VA TING  DERVISH.  41 1 

entire  open  space  east  of  the  town  was  converted  into  a 
camp — thousands  of  horses  tethered  everywhere.  As  usual 
at  midday  the  drum  rolled,  the  people  collected,  and  again, 
under  the  shade  of  the  great  chenar  trees,  the  wrongs  of 
Ali  and  the  woes  of  Hassan  and  Hussein  were  rehearsed. 
Again  the  dervishes*  practised  their  different  metiers ;  and 
again,  as  the  sun  went  down,  came  the  muezzim's  call, 
echoing,  long-drawn,  over  the  stilly  plain.  As  darkness 
set  in,  lights  twinkled  everywhere,  and  camp  fires  blazed 
all  over  the  bivouac.  I  marvel  where  the  fuel  came  from, 
for  here  trees  are  too  precious  to  be  cut  down  for  the  pur- 
pose. Ten  o'clock  was  the  hour  fixed  for  our  departure. 
Meantime  we  amused  ourselves  as  we  best  could.  I  was 
dreadfully  annoyed  by  the  vile  religious  buffoonery  of  a 
dervish  under  my  window,  who  was  narrating  to  a  crowd 
of  listeners  some  episode  in  the  deaths  of  the  two  ever- 
lasting Imams  one  never  hears  the  end  of  here— Hussein 
and  Hassan.  I  could  not  see  the  fellow,  but  I  guessed 
from  his  voice  that  he  was  a  young  man  with  long  black 
hair,  who  during  the  day  generally  acted  as  story-teller 
and  pedlar.  He  told  his  story,  blubbering  with  simulated 
grief,  his  voice  almost  inarticulate  with  apparently  hyste- 
rical sobs  and  groans.  If  I  had  not  been  too  vexed  I 
could  have  been  amused  at  the  lachrymose  tone  of  inter- 
rupted voice,  like  that  of  a  child  who  has  been  whipped, 
which  he  knew  how  to  assume.  As  it  was,  I  should  have 
been  tempted  to  throw  something  out  of  the  window  at  him 
had  I  not  been  afraid  of  evoking  a  storm  like  that  of  the 
morning.  The  women  present  occasionally  struck  up  a 
wail  in  chorus,  clapping  their  hands  in  token  of  extreme 
grief  and  emotion.  These  dervishes  are  a  set  of  thorough- 
going, shameless  impostors.  He  who  can  groan  and  sob 
and  blubber  the  most  extravagantly  is  accounted  the  best 
and  holiest.      I  am  not  surprised  that  the  moullahs,  or 


412  A    WEIRD  CAVALCADE. 

regular  clergy,  dislike  intensely  these  itinerant  religion- 
mongers. 

At  ten  o'clock  we  were  all  in  motion,  bat  it  was  a  good 
hour  before  we  got  clear  of  the  camping  ground.  The 
artillery  bugle  sounded  three  times,  to  give  us  warning  of 
the  departure  of  the  escort.  Everyone  wanted  to  be  as 
near  as  possible  to  the  cannon,  so  that  nobody  was  willing 
to  go  forward  or  to  hold  back.  As  a  result  I  found  my- 
self and  my  horse  standing  in  a  stream  of  water,  jammed 
in  between  kedjaves  full  of  women,  mule-litters,  and  camels. 
Close  in  front  of  me  was  a  collection  of  coffins,  containing 
putrefying  human  bodies,  fastened  across  the  backs  of  asses, 
and  smelling  horribly.  They  were  the  remains  of  people 
who  had  left  money  enough  to  secure  their  being  interred 
close  to  the  sacred  precincts  at  Meshed,  and  were  being 
brought  from  heaven  knows  what  far-off  corner  of  Persia. 
Slowly  and  with  difficulty  I  forced  my  way  through  the 
throng;  for  the  ground  was  very  irregular,  and,  though 
torches,  lanterns,  and  fires  blazed  on  every  side,  the  press 
was  too  close  to  let  one  catch  a  glimpse  of  them.  Outside 
the  radius  of  the  firelight  all  was  nearly  pitch  dark,  for  the 
moon  had  not  yet  risen,  and  the  stars  shed  but  a  dim  light 
in  the  flare  of  the  fires.  My  horse  had  got  out  of  the  stream 
on  to  what  seemed  a  narrow  footpath.  After  a  few  minutes 
I  felt  myself  getting  strangely  elevated  above  the  people  on 
each  side  of  me.  I  halted  until  a  light  was  brought,  and 
then  discovered  that  I  was  on  the  top  of  a  mud  wall  four 
feet  high.  In  a  few  minutes  more  I  should  have  been 
twelve  feet  from  the  ground,  on  the  top  of  a  wall  but  two 
feet  thick,  a  rather  awkward  place  for  an  equestrian  in  the 
dark.  I  mention  this  by  way  of  indicating  how  difficult, 
under  the  circumstances,  the  movement  of  five  thousand 
men,  women,  and  children,  with  their  beasts  of  burden,  must 
have  been,  especially  when  there  was  not  a  trace  of  a  road, 


A    WEIRD  CAVALCADE.  413 

or  any  central  directing  command.  One  would  have  sup- 
posed that  as  Government  went  to  the  trouble  of  provid- 
ing a  military  escort,  it  would  also  have  appointed  some 
director  or  caravan  bashi  to  marshal  the  proceedings. 
Notwithstanding  the  eager  desire  to  be  near  the  all-power- 
ful and  all-protecting  piece  of  artillery,  the  force  of  circum- 
stances at  last  compelled  the  seething  mass  of  human  beings 
and  beasts  to  defile  in  the  required  direction.  Close  by  on 
our  right  were  the  two  main  peaks  of  the  Maiamai  range  of 
hills  overhanging  the  town,  and  looming  darkly  against  the 
star-sprinkled  sky.  The  track  we  followed  lay  along  their 
northern  flank  and  rose  gradually  to  the  dreaded  defile 
some  ten  miles  away.  The  road  was  rough  and  disagree- 
able in  the  extreme.  Long  sharp  ribs  of  rock  running 
parallel  to  each  other  protruded  like  chisel  edges.  Boulders, 
holes,  and  trenches  abounded.  As  the  eye  became  accus- 
tomed to  the  dim  starlight,  one  could  make  out,  little  by 
little,  the  details  of  the  struggling,  stumbling  column.  One 
was  nigh  suffocated  by  the  dust  thrown  up  by  so  many 
thousand  trampling  feet.  The  entire  caravan  could  not 
have  covered  less  than  a  couple  of  miles  of  road,  and  a 
strange  sight  it  presented  as  I  rode  as  quickly  as  possible 
along  its  flank,  trying  to  reach  the  head,  in  order  to  be  out 
of  the  way  of  the  dust  and  the  pestilential  smell  from  the 
coffins,  which,  instead  of  being  kept  together  and  in  the 
rear,  were  mixed  up  and  down  the  column  with  the  mules 
and  camels,  the  dead  in  their  coffins  each  moment  jostling 
and  elbowing  the  living  in  their  litters  and  kedjaves.  How 
those  who  were  forced  to  jog  along  in  company  with  these 
ghastly  neighbours,  and  to  bear  the  general  din  around 
them,  stood  the  combined  noise  and  smell,  not  to  speak  of 
the  dust,  I  cannot  conceive.  The  uproar  was  outrageous. 
Each  mule,  besides  carrying  a  pair  of  litters,  one  contain- 
ing some  stout  old  hadji,  and  the  other  his  wife  and  a 


414  A  STRAXGE  NIGHT  MARCH. 

couple  of  children,  was  farther  handicapped  by  an  enor- 
mous pair  of  cylindrical  bronze  bells,  hung  from  the 
bottoms  of  the  litters ;  many  had  half  a  dozen  smaller  ones 
each.  At  one  time  I  got  blocked  among  the  Utters  close 
in  the  rear  of  the  gun,  where  the  noise  was  simply  hideous. 
The  big  bronze  bells  crashed  and  boomed ;  the  smaller  ones 
'  jangled,  ever  so  many  thousand  all  at  once;  the  gun 
jolted  noisily  over  the  rough  path ;  hadjis  shouted,  asses 
brayed,  and  mules  vocalised  in  their  own  particular  fashion. 
It  was  like  being  shut  up  in  the  belfry  of  some  cathedral 
in  which  the  ringers  are  at  work,  in  company  with  the 
concentrated  noonday  noises  of  the  busiest  street  of  the 
metropolis.  Almost  every  mounted  pilgrim  was  whirling 
the  little  fire-cup  by  which  he  ignited  charcoal  for  his 
kalioun,  this  time  not  with  a  view  of  smoking,  but  of  illu- 
minating the  ground  beneath  his  horse's  feet,  and  so 
keeping  out  of  the  pitfalls  which  occurred  at  every  step. 
The  whole  dark  line  resembled  some  gigantic  train  of 
waggons  with  blazing  fiery  wheels.  The  impalpable  white 
dust  boiled  upwards  in  swaying  columns  like  the  steam  of 
twenty  locomotive  engines.  The  hollow  clang  of  the  camel 
bells,  and  the  fiendish  tearing  groans  of  the  camels,  as  they 
stalked  swingingly  along,  laden  with  tents,  boxes,  and  Utters, 
joined  in  happy  unison.  Behind  and  in  front  of  the  gun, 
with  its  six  horses,  were  two  score  of  infantry,  mounted  on 
small  asses.  The  men  were  rather  big,  and  the  asses  the 
most  diminutive  that  I  ever  saw.  In  the  faint  star- 
Ught  their  general  effect  was  that  of  a  number  of  four- 
legged  men  scrambling  over  the  stones,  and  bearing  long 
hayforks  over  their  shoulders.  A  superstitious  stranger 
coming  suddenly  upon  this  weird-looking  procession,  might 
easily  take  it,  with  its  unearthly  sounds,  flaming  circles, 
and  foully  smelling  coffins,  for  some  infernal  troupe  issuing 
from  the  bowels  of  the  sable  hill  hard  by,  to  indulge  in 


A  DREADED  PASS.  415 

a  Satanic  promenade  during  the  witching  hours  of  the 
night. 

As  we  drew  near  the  dreaded  ravines  the  greatest 
anxiety  began  to  prevail ;  and  the  caravan  drew  into  still 
closer  order.  Those  who  at  first  pushed  forward  valiantly, 
now  fell  back  upon  the  gun  and  its  escort;  the  bugle 
sounded,  and  we  came  to  a  standstill.  Just  in  front  of  us, 
at  the  entrance  of  the  pass,  was  an  old  fort  with  tall  curtain 
walls  and  crenelated  towers.  The  half-waned  moon  was 
just  rising  beyond  its  crumbling  battlements,  shedding  an 
uncertain  light  over  the  vast  dim  plain  reaching  away  to 
the  north.  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  what  would  be  the 
result  if  the  merest  handful  of  Turcoman  horsemen  swept 
down  upon  the  straggling,  unwieldy  column.  The  gun, 
absolutely  the  most  useless  weapon  among  us,  could  do 
nothing,  even  if  the  gunners  did  not  bolt  at  the  first  sight 
of  the  enemy.  Besides,  even  with  the  steadiest  artillery- 
men in  the  world,  this  gun,  shut  in  by  crowds  of  terrified, 
unreasoning  pilgrims,  would  not  be  able  to  fire  a  single 
shot;  and  to  fire  with  a  small  cannon  in  the  dark  at 
Turcoman  cavalry  whirling  down  in  their  usual  loose  order 
would  be  little  short  of  absurd.  It  would  be  its  first  and 
last  discharge.  The  few  infantrymen,  with  their  cumbrous 
old  muzzle-loading  rifles,  which  it  would  take  five  minutes 
to  load,  might  also  be  set  aside  as  practically  useless,  even 
if  they  had  had  bayonets,  which,  for  some  unaccountable 
reason,  they  had  not.  Anything  like  rallying  the  more 
bellicosely  inclined  of  the  pilgrims  would,  under  the  circum- 
stances, be  out  of  the  question.  It  would  be  a  thorough 
sauve  qui  peut,  and  the  best  thing  that  could  be  done  under 
the  circumstances ;  for  to  stay  would  be  but  to  c6urt  certain 
death  or  capture.  Why  the  Turcomans  should  give  them- 
selves the  trouble  to  attack  one  of  these  hadji  caravans 
passes  my  comprehension.    It  seems,  however,  that  they 


416  WILD  CONFUSION. 

m 

have  frequently  waylaid  them,  and  still  do  occasionally. 
This  must  be  when  they  have  got  news  that  rich  people 
are  among  the  pilgrims  who  can  afford  to  pay  handsome 
ransoms,  or  who  are  sure  to  have  valuable  effects  with 
them.  As  a  rule,  very  little  plunder  indeed  is  to  be  ob- 
tained from  the  members  of  an  ordinary  caravan,  such  as 
ours  was,  and  in  which  a  large  proportion  of  the  pilgrims 
are  little  better  than  mendicants.  After  a  short  pause  we 
screwed  up  our  courage  and  entered  the  defile,  each  man 
shouting  and  yelling  as  if  possessed,  in  order,  as  I  under- 
stood, to  terrify  the  robbers.  If  noise  alone  could  do  that,  we 
had  already  been  making  quite  enough  to  frighten  the  entire 
population  of  the  Akhal  Tekke.  We  went  through  the 
pass  as  quickly  as  the  men  on  foot  could  possibly  proceed. 
The  confusion  and  din  which  prevailed  during  the  hour 
which  our  passage  of  the  ravine  occupied  cannot  be  easily 
imagined.  I  had  seen  the  evacuation  of  Tolosa  by  the 
Liberal  population  during  the  Carlist  investment ;  I  had 
been  in  the  midst  of  the  precipitate  flight  of  the  remnant 
of  the  Turkish  army  from  the  field  of  the  Aladja  Dagh  to 
Kara,  and  in  many  other  strange  positions  of  the  kind; 
but  this  rush  of  hadjis  through  the  Maiamai  pass  bore  away 
the  palm  for  confusion  and  uproar.  The  entire  cavalcade 
became  nearly  invisible  in  the  dust-cloud  raised  by  its  rapid 
progress.  At  ten  yards  one  couH  barely  distinguish  the  out- 
line of  a  camel,  like  that  of  some  shadowy,  mis-shapen 
phantom  gliding  along  in  the  moonlight ;  and  one  gasped 
for  breath  in  the  stifling  atmosphere.  The  defile  occasion- 
ally widened  out,  so  as  to  allow  easy  passage  for  twenty 
abreast ;  but  there  were  places  where  one  camel  only  could 
pass  at  a  time  between  the  steeply-scarped  rocks  on  either 
side.  It  was  just  at  these  places  that  the  hadjis  made 
desperate  rushes,  each  one  trying  to  be  the  first  through. 
The  result,  of  course,  was  a  block  and  a  dead  stand-still. 


CAMEL   TRAINS  FROM  MESHED.  417 

Sometimes  we  heard  loud  cheering  in  front.  This  was 
when  the  leading  files  of  the  caravan  met  with  a  party  of 
returning  pilgrims.  Usually  the  direst  apprehension  existed 
on  both  sides  lest  the  new-comers  should  be  robbers,  and 
the  cheering  was  the  expression  of  mutual  relief  at  discover- 
ing the  fact  that  both  parties  were  friends.  The  selam  aleik 
salutation,  which  has  passed  into  a  mere  polite  formality  in 
towns,  becomes  on  occasions  like  this  the  challenge  of  the 
desert.  '  Peace  be  with  you/  is  shouted  from  afar  when 
strangers  are  discerned  approaching.  The  answer,  '  Ou  el 
selam  alikoum,'  comes  back  as  a  welcome  message  of  peace. 
But  should  the  reply  be  not  given,  each  one  gets  ready  his 
weapons.  I  have  met  with  robbers  who  refused  to  return 
the  salutation,  and  who  went  sullenly  by,  hindered  from 
attacking  only  by  the  strength  of  the  party  with  whom  I  was. 
As  we  neared  the  eastern  end  of  the  Maiamai  Pass  we  began 
to  encounter  long  trains  of  camels  from  Meshed,  laden  with 
cotton.  These  trains  were  a  welcome  sight,  for  they  showed 
us,  as  did  the  returning  pilgrims,  that  the  road  was  clear. 
The  pass  itself  is  a  kind  of  long,  winding  gully,  girt  on 
either  side  by  low,  rounded  hills,  occasionally  forming  long 
parapet-like  ridges  oblique  to  the  defile.  No  better  place 
than  this  pass  could  possibly  be  devised  for  an  ambuscade. 
Still,  a  single  military  or  police  post  on  a  commanding 
point,  and  furnished  with  a  solitary  piece  of  artillery  for 
signalling  and  offensive  purposes,  would  effectually  prevent 
the  possibility  of  a  caravan  being  waylaid  here.  Yet  this 
is  not  established,  and  week  after  week  an  unfortunate  gun 
is  trailed  along  the  entire  route,  and  a  handful  of  useless 
soldiers  put  to  no  end  of  trouble,  and  made  to  suffer  useless 
fatigue  in  accompanying  caravans  which  they  are  entirely 
impotent  to  protect. 

Dawn  was  fast  brightening  as  we  caught  sight  of  the 
halting-place  for  the  day.    It  was  an  extensive  caravanserai, 

vol.  1.  be 


418  MIANDASHT. 

the  largest  I  had  hitherto  seen,  and  rose  amid  the  solitude 
of  the  plain  like  some  enchanted  castle.  It  was  named  Mian- 
dasht,  and  was  but  twenty-eight  miles  from  our  last  start- 
ing point,  though  on  account  of  our  numerous  halts  and  the 
nature  of  the  road  we  had  been  over  eight  hours  in  tra- 
versing it.  The  first  rays  of  the  rising  sun  were  glinting 
on  the  cupola  of  the  main  building  as  our  celebrated  cannon 
rumbled  into  the  great  square,  and  we  all  commenced  pre- 
paring our  quarters  for  the  day.  The  pilgrims  on  foot  had 
kept  up  bravely.  Indeed,  they  were  among  the  first  to 
arrive.  Poor  fellows,  it  was  indeed  a  pilgrimage  for  them. 
I  scarcely  believed  that  in  these  latter  degenerate  days 
religious  zeal  could  carry  people  so  far. 


A  CARAVANSERAI.  419 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

MIANDAflHT — 8ABZAVAB. 

Caravanserai  scenes — Travellers'  lodgings— Persian  architecture—The  midday 
siesta — Departure  of  a  caravan— The  road  to  Sabzavar — Strategical  po- 
sitions— Abaaabad — Persian  coinage — Sadrabad — A  rained  country — 
Abandoned  irrigation  works — The  Kal  Mora  river — An  ancient  bridge — 
Mftginan — Miliars  and  mosques — A  decayed  town — Sabzavar — Commercial 
relations  with  France — Ice  manufacture — Travellers'  annoyances — Flies 
and  scorpions — Parting  from  the  pilgrims — Begging  on  the  road — Per- 
sians and  Turcomans — An  official  reception  in  Persia — Oriental  diplo- 
macy— News  and  newspapers — The  wardens  of  the  Turcoman  border — 
Timorous  guides — A  travelled  Persian's  impressions  of  London — Patti  as 
a  cancan  dancer — Start  for  Kuchan.  , 

Miandasht  is  merely  a  station  on  the  route  like  many  of 
those  already  passed,  and  has  no  pretensions  to  rank  even 
as  a  village.  The  caravanserai  is  of  unusual  size  and 
solidity,  but  there  is  no  other  building  in  the  place. 
Nothing  can  be  more  striking  to  a  European's  eye  than 
one  of  these  typically  Eastern  buildings,  standing  alone 
and  desolate  in  the  trackless  and  arid  plain.  The  work  of 
man  is  there,  but  of  human  life  there  is  no  sign.  The 
soil,  of  yellow  marl  strewn  thick  with  pebbles,  is  devoid  of 
a  blade  of  grass  or  other  vegetation,  and  reflects  the  burn- 
ing rays  of  the  sun  like  a  brazen  shield.  From  such  a 
plain  rises  a  huge  embattled  structure,  like  one  of  the 
great  mediaeval  castles  of  Europe  in  size,  and  somewhat 
in  appearance.  The  circuit  of  the  walls  of  this  one  is  fully 
an  English  mile,  and  is  broken  by  numerous  projecting 
towers,  and  relieved  by  huge  gate-ways,  arched  in  the 

Ii2 


420  A  REFUGE  FROM  THE  SUN. 

peculiar  ogival  forms  of  Persian  and  Saracenic  architecture. 
The  gates  of  massive  oak  are  double,  and  thickly  studded 
and  barred  with  iron.  The  whole  is  built  of  an  extremely 
hard  burned  yellow  brick.  The  nucleus  of  this  Miandasht 
structure  was  the  caravanserai  of  Shah  Abass  the  Great, 
whose  name  is  duly  recorded  in  the  inscription  over  the 
great  portal.  Above  the  latter  rises  a  large  flat  cupola  of 
the  Eastern  type.  Another  and  much  larger  building  has 
since  been  added,  but  at  what  date  I  could  not  ascertain. 
Its  first  courtyard  forms  an  immense  square  in  front  of 
the  older  caravanserai,  and  is  divided  from  a  second  of 
similar  dimensions  by  a  row  of  buildings  which  joins  the 
ramparts  at  both  ends.  The  inner  side  of  the  rampart  is 
lined  with  a  row  of  vaulted  rooms,  each  having  a  shallow 
arched  vestibule  in  front.  The  latter,  from  the  free  circu- 
lation of  air  through  it,  and  its  consequent  coolness,  is  the 
place  preferred  by  summer  travellers  for  lodgings.  The 
row  of  central  buildings  has  a  second  story,  closely  resem- 
bling the  casemates  in  European  fortresses,  with  long  dim 
corridors ;  and  throughout,  the  walls,  floors,  and  roof  are 
of  solid  brickwork,  impervious  alike  to  rain  and  sun. 
Nothing  can  be  more  delightful  on  a  sultry  day  than  to 
pass  from  the  burning  heat  and  glare  of  the  stony  plain 
into  the  cave-like  coolness  and  dim  light  of  these  long 
arcades  and  vaults.  Indeed,  the  architect  who  designed 
this  Miandasht  caravanserai  seems  to  have  thoroughly 
grasped  the  requirements  of  his  building,  and  to  have 
admirably  adapted  it  for  the  purposes  of  shelter  against 
the  burning  heat.  In  winter,  no  doubt,  such  a  dark  abode 
must  be  chilling,  but  few  travellers  ever  cross  these  plains 
in  winter.  The  only  fault  I  found  with  the  builders  was 
in  the  construction  of  their  stairs,  which  it  seems  to  be  an 
object  to  make  as  nearly  vertical  as  possible.  The  maximum 
of  rise  with  the  minimum  of  foot  tread  seems  to  be  the 


PERSIAN  STAIRCASES— WATER.  421 

aspiration  of  the  Persian  stair-builder,  and  even  in  the 
heights  of  his  steps  in  the  same  flight  he  sees  no  need  of 
uniformity.  The  first  step  in  the  stairs  leading  to  the 
room,  or  end  of  the  corridor  which  I  occupied,  was  two 
and  a  half  feet  high,  or  about  four  times  that  of  an  ordinary 
European  stair.  The  second  was  two  feet  in  height,  and 
the  rest  eighteen  inches  each,  with  a  tread  of  not  more  than 
six  inches  wide.  Climbing  such  an  ascent  is  no  easy  task 
to  a  traveller  whose  legs  are  stiff  with  riding,  and  it  is  no 
wonder  that  the  people  of  the  country  have  a  general  dislike 
to  going  up-stairs.  Indeed,  in  some  of  the  earth-built 
caravanserais,  where  steps  originally  designed  like  those  of 
Miandasht  have  fallen  into  dilapidation,  one  would  almost 
need  an  alpenstock  to  ascend  them.  Accordingly,  the  bala 
hane  over  the  gate  is  seldom  occupied  by  the  natives. 

Water  is  abundantly  provided  in  this  caravanserai. 
Within  the  courtyards,  and  also  outside  the  walls,  are  some 
half-dozen  large  underground  tanks,  with  brick  domes  built 
over  them  to  prevent  evaporation  and  keep  the  water  fresh 
and  cool.  A  flight  of  forty  wide  steps  gives  access  to  the 
cisterns,  which  are  closely  guarded  by  the  care-takers  of 
the  establishment.  It  is  true  each  traveller  is  allowed  all 
he  needs  for  his  personal  use,  but  the  fluid  cannot  be 
wasted,  nor  is  it  allowed  to  be  given  to  the  animals.  The 
latter  are  supplied  with  water  of  poorer  quality  from  a 
tank  some  distance  off,  and  a  small  sum  is  exacted  for 
each  animal.  The  drying  up  in  summer  of  the  under- 
ground canals  which  feed  the  tanks  necessitates  this 
economy.  In  winter  the  water  flows  in  abundantly,  but 
during  the  rest  of  the  year  it  has  to  be  stored  for  the  use 
of  the  caravans.  Thus,  were  it  not  for  the  tanks  at 
Miandasht,  it  would  be  necessary  to  carry  water  in  skins. 

The  sun  was  just  rising  as  we  entered  the  station,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  hundreds  of  fires  were  smoking  as  the 


422  PILGRIMS'  DIET. 

pilgrims  prepared  their  morning  meal.    Dealers  in  various 
articles  of  food,  some  of  whom  had  accompanied  the  caravan 
for  purposes  of  trade,  displayed  their  wares,  and  advertised 
them  with  all  their  ingenuity.    One  man,  seated  in  the 
archway  of  one  of  the  lower  vaults,  drew  attention  to  the 
sour  curds  which  formed  his  stock-in-trade  by  uttering  a 
sort  of  gurgling  sound  something  like  the  hoarse  gasps 
of  a  vulture.    Another,  whom  I  for  some  time  thought  was 
engaged  in  calling  a  drove  of  cows  to  their  stable,  proved 
to  be  a  vendor  of  firewood.    This  fuel  consists  of  the  roots 
of  a  small  scraggy  thorn-bush  that  grows  here  and  there 
throughout  the  desert,  and  which  have  to  be  torn  up  with 
enormous  labour.    In  fact,  nearly  all  the  poorer  members 
of  the  caravan  had  something  to    sell.    Whenever    we 
reached  a  patch  of  coarse  grass  some  mendicant  pilgrim 
would  dismount  from  his  little  donkey,  cut  a  load  for  the 
animal,  and  trudge  on  foot  through  the  burning  sands  to 
the  next  station  for  the  sake  of  the  couple  of  pence  to  be 
realised  from  the  sale  of  his  fodder.    Firewood  such  as  I 
have  described  was  provided  in  general  in  the  same  way, 
for  the  local  resources  of  the  caravanserais  are  entirely 
inadequate  to  meet  the  requirements  of  a  large  caravan. 
It  is  surprising  on  how  little  these  people  can  live,  even 
when  undergoing  the  fatigues  of  travelling  through  the 
desert  on  foot.    A  piece  of  bread  and  a  morsel  of  goat's 
cheese,  with  a  handful  of  apricots,  constitute  their  meal. 
The    richer    pilgrims    only  can    indulge   in  the    luxury 
of  an  occasional  piece  of  chicken  or  spitted  meat.    All, 
however,  drink  tea,  and  everyone,  no  matter  how  poor, 
manages  to  prepare  a  little,  which  is  usually  drunk  without 
sugar,  the  latter  being  a  delicacy  reserved  for  the  rich  only. 
When  breakfast  is  over,  and  the  horses,  camels,  and  asses 
fed  and  watered,  everyone  retires  to  rest.    During    the 
burning  hours  of  midday  a  stillness  like  that  of  death 


EXCESSIVE  HEAT— SLOW  PROGRESS.  423 

settles  over  the  place.  Throughout  the  East  midday  is 
essentially  the  hour  of  repose.  In  Persia  a  man  would  as 
soon  think  of  leaving  the  house  or  travelling  half  a  mile 
at  that  time  as  we  would  of  selecting  midnight  during  a 
downpour  of  rain  for  a  promenade.  In  Spain,  I  believe,  it 
is  said  that  only  dogs  and  Englishmen  are  abroad  during 
the  siesta  hours.  In  Persia,  even  those  exceptions  need 
not  be  made.  I  felt  too  much  worried  by  the  night's 
journey  to  be  able  to  sleep  during  the  first  part  of  the  day, 
and  I  availed  myself  of  the  interval  to  proceed  with  my 
writing ;  but  about  noon  the  hot  wind  made  its  influence 
felt  so  overpoweringly  even  in  these  cool  vaults,  that  I 
fell  asleep  almost  with  the  pen  in  my  hand,  and  remained 
unconscious,  with  my  head  propped  against  the  wall  by 
way  of  pillow,  until  a  general  movement  in  the  courts 
below  and  the  tinkle  of  the  camel  bells  awoke  me  as  the 
hour  of  our  departure  approached.  This  travelling  by 
night  exclusively  is  a  terrible  hindrance  to  rapid  progress. 
Moving  over  uneven  ground  in  the  dark  is  necessarily  slow 
work.  Though  it  would  be  impossible  to  travel  on  these 
plains  in  the  full  heat  of  the  day,  I  must  say  I  think  our 
halts  were  unnecessarily  prolonged.  A  rest  from  eight  in 
the  morning  till  five  in  the  afternoon,  with  a  stop  of  a 
couple  of  hours  at  midnight,  would  meet  all  the  needs  of 
the  case,  and  allow  a  much  faster  rate  of  advance.  But 
Orientals  cannot  appreciate  a  European's  eagerness  to 
get  to  his  journey's  end. 

The  scene,  as  the  caravan  was  making  ready  to  start, 
was  a  most  picturesque  one.  The  sun  was  going  down 
with  almost  noontide  splendour  behind  the  amethyst  tinted 
hills  that  showed  indistinctly  on  the  western  horizon — 

Not  as  in  northern  lands,  obscurely  bright, 
But  one  unclouded  blaze  of  living  light 

A  few  taper  clouds  like  golden  fishes  poised  motionless  in  the 


424  AN  EVENING  SCENE. 

opal  depths,  alone  broke  the  continuity  of  the  vast  silent 
arch  above  the  desert.  Around  us,  the  boundless  plain 
was  one  sheet  of  aerial  purple.  Far  away  to  the  south 
gleamed  whitely  the  lonely  tomb  of  some  forgotten  warrior 
or  saint ;  and,  further  still,  a  solitary  well,  with  its  single 
straggling  chenar  tree— emblems  of  life  in  the  wilderness. 
A  tall  dust  column  was  waltzing  solemnly  eastward  in  the 
rising  evening  breeze,  now  breaking  into  viewless  sand 
mist,  now  reforming,  bowing  and  caracolling  like  some 
sportive  living  creature,  the  very  prototype  of  the  gin  of 
Eastern  story,  the  enraged  genius  who  came  to  slay  the 
merchant  that  had  thrown  a  date-stone  into  his  son's  eye. 
In  the  courtyard  below  the  window  of  my  lodging,  people 
in  every  costume  of  the  East  were  sitting  or  lying  on  the 
ground,  under  the  horse-shoe  arches  of  the  arcades  or  on 
the  terraced  tank  covers,  smoking  their  water-pipes  or 
drinking  tea  from  their  samovars,  a  Russian  utensil  now 
found  everywhere  in  the  East.  Others  were  performing 
their  evening  ablutions,  a  companion  or  attendant  pouring 
water  from  a  metal  jug  over  their  hands.  These  ablutions 
are  little  more  than  a  matter  of  form,  especially  before 
prayers.  For  the  feet,  a  damp  hand  is  passed  lightly  over 
the  instep  ;  that  is  all.  Other  pilgrims  were  standing  on 
their  little  carpets  with  their  faces  towards  the  keblah  and 
their  hands  held  before  them  like  an  open  book,  com- 
mencing their  evening  devotions.  Some  similarly  engaged, 
rose  and  sank  during  their  orisons  like  the  piston-rod  of  a 
steam  engine  in  slow  motion  as  they  prostrated  themselves. 
From  tower  and  terrace  a  dozen  self-appointed  muezzims 
chanted  their  prayer-call,  which  echoed  mournfully  along 
the  neighbouring  plain.  Camels  and  mules  laden  for  the 
road,  with  their  bells  tinkling  at  every  motion,  stood 
around  everywhere.  The  cupola  and  turrets  of  Shah 
Abass's  caravanserai  stood  out  boldly  against  the  evening 


ELECTRICAL  PHENOMENA- ABASABAD.        425 

sky,  and  below,  in  the  middle  of  the  square,  our  cannon 
was  conspicuous.  As  the  sun  disappeared  slowly  behind 
the  horizon,  and  dim  twilight  settled  over  *  the  level  waste, 
the  rounding  gray '  across  which  our  path  lay,  the  artillery 
bugles  gave  the  signal  for  departure,  and  I  had  to  scramble 
down  the  steep  caravanserai  steps  and  once  more  start  on 
my  journey. 

Our  road  from  Miandasht  to  Sabzavar  lay  across  a 
stony  plain,  below  the  level  of  which  it  sometimes  sank 
like  a  shallow  railroad  cutting,  and  at  other  times  it  was 
crossed  by  sharp  rocky  mounds,  over  which,  in  the  dark, 
there  was  many  a  stumble  and  fall.  A  strong  sultry  wind 
blew  from  the  east,  as  it  usually  does  here  just  after  sunset, 
and  filled  our  mouths,  eyes,  and  noses  with  clouds  of  sand 
and  dust.  At  night,  during  the  prevalence  of  this  wind, 
my  horse's  coat  became  most  remarkably  electrical,  streams 
of  sparks  flying  from  his  neck  and  mane  wherever  the  reins 
touched  them.  I  could  draw  sparks  from  the  animal's  ears 
with  my  metal-ringed  riding-whip.  About  two  in  the 
morning  we  entered  a  series  of  deep  sandy  ravines,  domi- 
nated on  all  sides  by  steep  craggy  ridges.  An  adequate 
military  force  posted  on  these  ridges  would  have  complete 
control  of  the  communications  between  Teheran  and 
Meshed,  and  it  would  be  almost  impossible  to  dislodge  it 
from  the  position.  Emerging  from  these  defiles  we  reached 
Abasabad,  a  wretched  little  place  containing  a  couple  of 
hundred  houses  and  a  ruined  citadel.  Some  of  the  houses 
were  enclosed  by  a  dilapidated  mud  wall,  but  the  most  im- 
portant part  of  the  town  was  the  caravanserai,  which  was 
toomy,  and  solidly  built  of  burned  brick.  Large  as  it  was, 
it  was  overcrowded  by  the  multitude  of  pilgrims,  and  I  had 
to  take  refuge  in  the  post-house  outside,  where,  between 
the  heat  and  the  flies,  I  was  unable  either  to  sleep  or  to 
work,  and  passed  a  dismal  day  enough.     The  inhabitants 


426  COINAGE  DIFFICULTIES. 

are  all  agriculturists  and  silk  manufacturers.  When  the 
bugles  sounded  the  signal  for  departure  I  proceeded  to 
settle  my  account ;  but  owing  to  the  peculiar  notions  pre- 
valent respecting  the  coinage,  it  was  a  full  quarter  of  an 
hour  before  I  could  find  some  silver  money  that  would  be 
accepted  in  payment.  All  the  money  I  had  was  perfectly 
good  in  the  capital  and  the  surrounding  districts,  but  for 
some  not  very  easily  understood  reason,  the  people  in  this 
place  objected  to  a  very  large  proportion.  The  lengths 
to  which  people  here  will  go  for  the  sake  of  a  few  pence 
must  be  seen  to  be  appreciated  fully.  They  do  not  under- 
stand gold.  On  the  other  hand,  a  large  sum  in  silver  is  a 
source  of  both  anxiety  and  danger.  Its  bulk  and  weight 
make  it  conspicuous,  and  it  must  be  carried  on  one's  own 
horse,  and  never  trusted  beyond  arm's  length,  night  or  day. 
Every  eye  is  on  it,  and  every  brain  plotting  how  to  make 
away  with  it — in  all  likelihood  your  own  servants  most  of 
all.  A  party  of  wild  horsemen  may  happen  to  draw  up  at 
the  hut  where  one  is  staying,  and  they  immediately  learn 
that  a  stranger  is  there  who  carries  a  large  sum  of  money. 
From  that  moment,  unless  one  keeps  constantly  on  his 
guard,  he  is  liable  to  be  attacked  from  an  ambuscade,  or 
by  open  force.  After  all  this,  it  is  hard  to  find  that  the 
silver  so  jealously  watched  will  not  pay  your  way  without 
endless  disputes.  The  Government  should  call  in  its  coin 
if  light,  or  take  measures  to  enforce  its  circulation.  It  is 
not  impossible  that  the  whole  objection  to  the  Hamadan 
coins  is  a  mere  popular  whim  based  on  idle  rumours, 
perhaps  set  afloat  by  some  crafty  speculators,  Jews  or 
Armenians,  who  think  thus  to  buy  in  the  objectionable 
coins  at  a  low  rate.  One  can  hardly  credit  how  easily 
similar  stories  are  set  afloat  in  Persia. 

From  Abasabad  to  Mazinan,  the  next  station,  the  road 
crosses  a  dreary  flat,  entirely  uncultivated,  though  plenti- 


KAL  MURA— ABANDONED  FIELDS.  427 

folly  supplied  with  water  from  the  Kal  Mura  river,  which 
has  left  marks  of  extensive  inundations  in  numerous  white 
deposits  of  salt.  This  plain  would  undoubtedly  produce 
abundant  crops  of  rice  if  properly  cultivated.  About  ten 
miles  from  our  starting  place  were  several  ponds,  evidently 
supplied  by  springs,  and  surrounded  by  extensive  reed- 
covered  marshes.  An  old  fort  stands  near  the  ponds,  and 
some  ten  miles  further  is  the  large  fortress  of  Sadrabad, 
about  five  hundred  yards  square,  with  high  brick  walls 
furnished  with  large  semicircular  bastions.  Sadrabad  was 
built  by  Shah  Abass  the  Great,  and  was  once  very  impor- 
tant. It  is  now  comparatively  neglected.  Extensive  re- 
servoirs and  covered  tanks  in  great  numbers  are  close  to 
the  fortifications,  and  there  is  a  well-built  caravanserai  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  road.  A  couple  of  miles  eastward 
we  crossed  the  Kal  Mura,  a  river  about  forty  yards  wide 
here,  and  tolerably  deep,  though  in  the  maps  it  is  usually 
marked  as  dry  in  summer.  It  rises  about  thirty  or  forty 
miles  to  the  north,  among  the  hills,  and  flows  about  as  far 
south,  when  it  disappears  in  the  salt  desert.  The  country 
around  was  once  extensively  cultivated,  as  the  traces  of  the 
irrigating  ditches  show — in  all  likelihood  at  the  time  when 
the  conquest  of  Merv  by  Nadir  Shah  had  put  a  stop  to 
border  feuds.  Nowadays,  cultivation  is  only  attempted 
immediately  around  the  towns,  and  even  there,  probably 
from  lack  of  manuring,  the  crops  are  miserably  poor,  the 
soil  being  apparently  exhausted,  though  naturally  well 
adapted  for  grain  growing.  We  crossed  the  Kal  Mura  on 
a  high  bridge  of  several  arches,  twenty-five  feet  above  the 
water  in  the  centre,  and  well  built  of  brick.  The  ascent 
on  each  side  has  a  gradient  of  at  least  twenty-five 
degrees,  and,  being  paved  with  smooth  pebbles,  is  by  no 
means  an  easy  climb  for  the  mules.  The  height  of  the 
bridge  indicates  the  passage  of  a  large  body  of  water  in  the 


428  MAZINAN—A  REMARKABLE  MINAR. 

winter,  during  which  season  the  road  mast  be  all  but  im- 
passable. 

It  was  early  dawn  when  we  reached  Mazinan,  which  is 
the  collective  name  of  a  group  of  villages,  each  fortified 
separately  and  bearing  a  distinct  name.    The  extent  of  the 
ruins  around  shows  that  it  has  once  been  a  more  important 
place,  but  now  it  contains  altogether  about  eight  hundred 
houses,  and  some  four  thousand  inhabitants,  spread  over 
a  space  of  about  four  miles  long  and  three  wide.    There  is 
a  wretched  little  bazaar,  where  a  few  artisans  eke  out  a 
living,  but  otherwise  the  community  is  entirely  agricultural, 
raising  corn  and  making  silk.      A  night's  travel  from 
Mazinan,  during  which  we  passed  a  place  called  Sulkar, 
brought  us  to  Mehr,  a  village  with  a  very  small  caravan- 
serai, consisting  solely  of  a  few  arched  niches  in  a  mud 
wall.    From  this  place  to  Sabzavar  is  only  twenty-eight 
miles,  the  road  being  level,  and  passing  through  the  large 
village  of  Biwad  between  the  two  places.    Around  Sabza- 
var, the  Green  City,  the  plain  is  highly  cultivated,  and 
mulberry  trees,  the  only  ones  to  be  found  here,  are  abun- 
dant, whole  acres  being  planted  with  them.    Numerous 
villages  and  fortified  residences  are  scattered  over   the 
plain,  which   appears  from  numerous  evidences  to  have 
been  formerly  still  more  densely  populated.    A  very  re- 
markable minaret,  the  mosque  to  which  it  was  once  at- 
tached having  completely  disappeared,  stands  about  two 
miles  from  the  town.     It  is  built  of  flat  reddish-brown 
brick  on  a  concrete  foundation,  not  over  eleven  feet  in 
diameter  at  the  base,  but  it  rises  to  the  height  of  a  hundred 
and  twenty  feet,  being  as  slender  in  appearance  as  a  factory 
chimney  in  Europe.     The  shaft  has  the  entasis  which  the 
ancient  Greeks  deemed  essential  to  the  beauty  of  their 
columns,  and  is  ornamented  at  intervals  by  bands  of  rose- 
pattern  tiles,  disposed  among  rows  of  obliquely  set  bricks* 


SABZA  VAR.  429 

The  style  of  decoration  is  peculiar  to  this  tower,  and  there 
is  an  absence  of  the  coloured  enamels  so  common  in  Persian 
buildings,  and  an  air  of  originality  about  the  whole  work, 
that  stamp  it  as  the  production  of  no  ordinary  architect. 
Indeed,  the  minaret,  at  least  as  it  occurs  in  Turkish 
architecture,  is  rarely  met  with  in  Persia.  The  muezzim 
calls  the  faithful  to  prayer  in  the  latter  country  from  the 
summit  of  a  dome,  or  from  a  cage-like  structure  on  some 
prominent  part  of  the  mosque — not  from  the  gallery  of  a 
prayer  tower.  Only  at  Semnan,  Damkhan,  and  Sabzavar, 
have  I  met  with  the  true  slender  minaret,  and  all  three 
were  of  very  considerable  antiquity.  The  foundations  of 
this  tower  have  been  exposed  by  the  removal  of  the  earth 
from  around  them,  and  the  steps  inside  have  been  almost 
all  taken  away,  apparently  for  use  elsewhere,  only  their 
spiral  supports  being  left  in  place.  I  scrambled  up  the 
latter  to  the  top  with  considerable  trouble,  and  found  the 
marks  of  a  wooden  platform,  now  gone.  Around  the  town 
were  numerous  ruins  of  brick  buildings,  pointing  to  the 
former  existence  of  a  large  town.  Some  of  the  older  tombs 
were  embellished  with  coloured  bricks  and  tiles,  and  the 
dome  of  one  was  covered  with  copper. 

The  present  town  of  Sabzavar  is  rectangular,  and  about 
three  quarters  of  a  mile  by  half  a  mile  in  dimensions.  It 
is  enclosed  by  a  wall  and  towers,  the  latter  partly  and  the 
former  wholly  built  of  sun-dried  bricks,  or  adobes,  as  they 
are  styled  in  Spanish  America.  The  bazaar  consists  of  two 
streets,  running  parallel,  and  roofed  with  horizontal  rafters 
laid  across  on  the  tops  of  the  stalls,  and  covered  with  felt, 
matting,  or  in  places  with  branches.  There  is  also  an 
Armenian  commercial  caravanserai,  where  some  Russian 
Armenians  from  Tiflis  and  Erivan  carry  on  a  considerable 
trade  in  silk.  Most  of  the  articles  offered  for  sale  in  the 
bazaars  were  either  Russian  or  French.     The  loaves  of 


4J0  ICE—INSECT  PESTS. 

sugar  that  I  saw  bore  on  the  wrappers  the  name  of  a 
Marseilles  firm,  and,  what  was  strange,  a  stamp  or  trade- 
mark with  the  arms  of  England.  Apricots,  plums,  and 
grapes,  with  other  varieties  of  fruit,  were  offered  in  large 
quantities,  and,  what  could  hardly  be  expected  here,  ice  can 
be  bought  in  any  quantity  at  a  very  reasonable  price. 
During  the  winter  the  cold  is  severe,  and  the  inhabitants 
pour  water,  during  the  frosts,  into  large  shallow  tanks, 
afterwards  rejnoving  the  ice  and  storing  it  in  deep  cellars 
for  summer  use.  This  display  of  foresight  is  entirely  out 
of  keeping  with  the  usual  character  of  the  Persians,  but  the 
luxury  of  ice  in  such  a  climate  can  only  be  appreciated  by 
one  who  has  felt  its  excessive  summer  heat.  From  noon 
till  four  in  the  afternoon  outdoor  movement  was  quite  im- 
possible, and,  only  for  the  furious  west  winds  which  set  in 
at  about  the  former  hour,  even  life  within  doors  would  be 
hardly  endurable.  The  swarms  of  flies  add  to  the  travel- 
ler's discomfort,  and  very  large  whitish  green  scorpions 
abound,  stowing  themselves  in  one's  valise  or  in  any  gar- 
ment laid  carelessly  aside  for  a  few  hours.  Fortunately, 
mosquitoes  are  absent,  but  the  flies  and  scorpions  are  quite 
enough.  Taking  it  altogether,  Sabzavar  offers  few  induce- 
ments for  a  prolonged  residence.  It  is  dusty  and  burnt  up 
in  appearance,  looking  very  like  an  immense  brickyard. 
The  houses,  with  their  flat  cupolas,  from  the  top  of  each  of 
which  the  smoke  issues  through  a  round  hole,  resemble 
so  many  brick-kilns,  and  the  few  trees  that  peep  above  the 
garden  walls  only  intensify  the  dried-up  appearance  of  the 
whole  place.  The  sun  beats  in  summer  on  the  roofs  and 
exposed  parts  of  the  streets  with  terrific  strength,  and  on 
one  occasion  when  I  incautiously  rushed  out  in  my  bare 
feet  on  the  pavement  at  midday  to  recover  some  papers 
which  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  had  swept  off,  I  thought 
literally  that  my  soles  would  be  burned  before  I  could  get 


A  BATTERED  GATE— BEGGING  HADJIS.         431 

back  to  shelter.  The  town  has  evidently  suffered  a  good 
deal  from  recent  wars.  The  eastern  gate  has  been  battered 
with  artillery,  and  the  massive  oaken  valves  are  literally 
riddled  with  cannon  shot.  Though  the  people  said  that 
this  damage  had  been  caused  by  the  Turcomans,  I  do  not 
believe  it  was,  as  the  Tekk6  nomads  in  their  forays  could 
hardly  drag  twelve-pounder  field  guns  with  them,  and  least 
of  all  over  such  a  range  of  hills  as  I  since  crossed.  Most 
likely  the  town  rebelled  and  was  attacked  by  the  Shah's 
troops,  or  some  local  chieftains  may  have  been  the  as- 
sailants. 

At  Sabzavar  I  parted  company  with  the  pilgrims,  as  the 
road  which  I  had  decided  on  taking  to  Euchan  left  the 
Meshed  road  there.  I  separated  from  the  pilgrims  without 
regret.  The  greater  portion  of  them  having  started  on 
their  expedition  without  any  funds,  had  to  depend  on 
begging  for  the  means  of  living,  and  so  persistently  did  they 
ply  their  trade  as  to  be  a  perfect  nuisance  on  the  road. 
Everyone  who  seemed  to  possess  anything  was  remorselessly 
dunned  for  alms.  A  favourite  practice  was  to  assail  me  for 
money  to  replace  the  road-tattered  sandals,  which  footsore 
pilgrims  offered  for  my  inspection  so  frequently  that  at  last 
I  was  compelled  to  explain  to  them  that  I  had  not  got  a 
contract  to  provide  the  caravan  with  shoe  leather. 

It  proved  easier  to  separate  from  my  travelling  com- 
panions than  to  pursue  my  journey  to  Euchan.  It  was 
needful  in  the  first  place  to  call  on  the  Governor,  and  discuss 
my  projected  journey,  and  the  precautions  necessary  to  make 
it  safely.  The  people  of  this  part  of  Persia  are  terribly  in 
awe  of  their  marauding  neighbours,  and  a  journey  to  a  place 
bo  near  the  Turcoman  frontier  as  Euchan  was  looked  upon 
as  a  most  perilous  if  not  wholly  insane  undertaking.  Half 
a  dozen  Turcomans  are  enough  to  cause  a  panic  in  a 
Persian  community,  and  a  Turcoman  venturing  alone  into 


432  A    VISIT  TO   THE  GOVERNOR. 

a  Persian  town  would  be  killed  at  once  as  remorselessly  as 
a  venomous  snake.    To  make  my  call  on  the  Governor 
with  due  formality,  I  sent  a  messenger  to  announce  my 
intended  visit — an  indispensable  ceremony  here,  when  the 
person  to  be  visited  is  of  any  considerable  rank.     This  pre- 
liminary over,  I  proceeded  to   that  dignitary's  residence, 
which,  though  fortified  with  flanking  towers  and  bastions, 
was  only  built  of  earth.    The  guards  at  the  gate  seemed 
utterly  astonished  at  my  appearance,   and  I  heard  them 
speculating  on  my  nationality.    One  decided  that  I  was 
either  a  Russian  or  a  Frenchman.    The  latter  nationality 
he  spoke  of  by  the  word  Franks,  not  Ferenghi,  the  common 
Oriental  word  for  all  Europeans  except  Russians,  who  go 
by  the  title  of  Uroos.     I  know  not  how  the  speaker  got 
his  knowledge  of  the  French  in  particular,  as  Persians  in 
general  are  not  much  acquainted  with  geography.    Perhaps 
the  trade  of  Marseilles  with  Sabzavar  has  familiarised  the 
people  of  the  latter  place  with  the  name  at  least  of  the 
Gallic  nation.     Passing  the  gateway  and  its  guardians,  I 
found  myself  in  a  bare  courtyard  with  some  dusty  buildings 
on  the  far  side.    About  a  dozen  persons  belonging  to  the 
household  were  saying  the  evening  prayer  on  a  slightly 
raised  platform  in  one  corner.    On  the  left  was  a  one- 
story  building  with  folding  windows,  paper  instead  of  glass 
being  inserted  in  the  openings  in  the  sash.    In  front  was 
a  large  tank  of  water  full  of  weeds.    A  small  side  door  gave 
access  to  a  large  court,  containing  some  trees  of  mulberry, 
jujube,  and  willow,  and  partially  paved.    A  number  of  the 
hangers-on,  who  are  always  to  be  found  around  the  dwelling 
of  a  Persian  grandee,  loitered  about  the  gateway.    Imme- 
diately on  my  entry  a  carpet  was  brought  and  spread 
beside  the  tank,  and  two  arm-chairs  were  placed  on  it,  in 
one  of  which  I  was  invited  to  take  a  seat. 

The  Governor,  or  Neyer  el  Dowlet,  soon  made  his 


CONVERSATION   WITH  GOVERNOR.  433 

appearance.  He  was  a  handsome,  sly-looking  man  of  about 
forty,  with  large  eyes,  a  slender  aquiline  nose,  and  a 
long  drooping  moustache  of  a  heavy  leaden  black  colour. 
His  dress  consisted  of  a  long  loose  robe  of  lilac-coloured  silk, 
and  he  wore  the  usual  Kadjar  hat  of  Astrakan.  Like  most 
Persians  of  the  upper  class,  he  was  extremely  courteous  in 
his  manners.  I  presented  my  letters  irom  his  Highness 
the  Sipah  Salar  Aazem,  and  from  the  Shah's  physician,  Dr. 
Tholozan.  Our  conversation  at  first  turned  on  the  Europeans 
who  had  been  in  those  parts  during  recent  times,  and  I 
quickly  found  that  I  was  the  first  newspaper  correspondent 
who  had  come  to  the  country.  The  Governor  could  not 
comprehend  my  mission  very  clearly,  and  still  less  could  he 
understand  why  I  should  wish  to  risk  my  life  and  liberty 
among  the  Turcomans.  The  letters  I  had  shown  evidently 
convinced  him  that  I  was  not  in  the  Government  service, 
and  he  clearly  set  the  whole  undertaking  down  as  a  mere 
freak  of  Western  eccentricity.  He  spoke  of  Colonel 
Valentine  Baker  and  Captain  Napier,  but  he  had  seen 
neither  of  them,  as  the  former,  when  in  Sabzavar,  had  not 
called  on  him,  and  the  Governor  himself  was  absent  at  the 
time  of  Captain  Napier's  visit.  I  then  drew  the  conversa- 
tion to  the  Akhal  Tekkes,  and  inquired  what  reception  I  was 
likely  to  meet  among  them.  The  Governor  shook  his  head. 
The  road  across  the  mountains,  he  said,  was  pretty  safe  for 
armed  persons  travelling  in  company,  as  the  governors 
along  the  Atterek  kept  strict  watch  against  marauding 
parties  from  beyond  the  frontier  and  took  heavy  reprisals 
in  case  of  damage  to  persons  or  property  within  the  Persian 
territory,  but  the  Tekkes  were  a  bad  lot.  The  Governor  of 
Euchan  and  Yar  Mehemet  Khan  of  Budjnoord  would  be 
able  to  give  me  more  accurate  information  about  them  than 
he  could.  This  Tar  Mehemet  Khan  has  been  quite  a 
prominent  personage  since  the  commencement  of  the  Bussian 
vol.  1.  f  » 


434  POLITICS. 

campaign  on  the  Atterek,  and  occupies  a  position  similar 
to  that  of  one  of  the  Lords  Warden  of  the  old  Scottish 
marches  in  the  days  of  the  Tudors.  It  was  while  returning 
from  a  mission  to  him,  with  the  object  of  obtaining 
supplies  of  forage  to  be  delivered  at  Chatte  and  different 
points  along  the  line  of  march,  that  General  LazarefFs 
envoy,  Zeinel  Beg,  and  the  Russian  soldiers  were  waylaid 
and  massacred  by  the  Turcomans.  There  had  always  been 
marauders  along  the  road  to  Euchan,  the  Governor  told  me, 
but  at  that  time  they  were  not  very  much  to  be  feared.  He 
offered  me  an  escort,  but  as  I  knew  that  this  involved  a 
heavy  payment  to  the  guard,  I  politely  declined  to  accept 
it,  trusting  rather  to  my  own  revolver  and  sword  and  to 
the  formidable  appearance  of  my  servant,  who  was  fully 
accoutred  with  sabre,  handjar,  and  pistols.  He  next 
questioned  me  on  the  possibilities  of  a  war  between  Bussia 
and  China  on  the  Euldja  question,  and  was  delighted  when 
I  gave  him  the  contents  of  a  leading  article  from  a  copy  of 
the  '  Pall  Mall  Budget,'  which  I  had  brought  from  Teheran. 
He  was  surprised  to  learn  that  the  British  were  to  evacuate 
Candahar  and  Afghanistan  as  soon  as  possible,  neither 
could  he  clearly  understand  why  the  Persian  expedition  to 
Herat  had  been  abandoned.  He  was  a  little  disappointed 
that  my  news  should  be  some  months  old,  for  the  people 
in  these  out-of-the-way  regions  apparently  think  that  a 
travelling  European  carries  a  portable  telegraph  in  his 
portmanteau,  and  thus  keeps  himself  fully  acquainted  with 
everything  going  on  throughout  the  world.  Some  words 
which  the  Governor  let  drop  during  the  conversation  were 
suggestive  of  the  Turcomans  getting  drawn  into  the  war  in 
Afghanistan,  as  Abdul  Rahman  Khan  had  a  very  large  force 
of  Tekke  refugees  with  him. 

Two  glasses  of  very  strong  tea,  sweetened  excessively,  were 
brought  in  at  the  commencement  of  our  conversation,  and 


EASTERN  FINESSE.  435 

immediately  afterwards  two  highly  ornamented  water-pipes, 
which  we  smoked  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes.  Two  more 
glasses  of  tea  were  subsequently  brought.  This  tea  and 
smoking  interlude,  apart  from  the  question  of  hospitality, 
has  an  important  role  in  serious  conversations  in  Persia. 
The  Orientals  are  born  diplomatists,  and  the  smoking  of  a 
pipe  or  sipping  of  a  glass  of  tea  is  often  employed  to  gain 
time  for  deliberation  when  questions  of  possible  importance 
are  unexpectedly  started.  Little  things  of  this  kind,  like 
palace  influence  and  harem  intrigues,  play  a  much  more 
important  part  in  the  East  than  the  less  subtle  minds  of 
Europe  can  well  imagine.  I  recollect  once  when  calling  on 
Ghazi  Achmet  Mukhtar  Pasha,  the  well-known  Turkish 
General  of  the  Armenian  campaigns,  at  Constantinople, 
after  a  few  minutes'  conversation  he  rose,  and,  pleading 
weakness  of  the  eyes  as  an  excuse,  changed  his  seat  so  as  to 
sit  with  his  back  to  the  light.  This  is  a  common  manoeuvre 
to  hide  the  expression  of  one's  face,  and  at  the  same  time 
have  a  clear  view  of  the  countenance  of  the  other  party  to 
the  conversation.  After  some  time  I  took  leave  of  the 
Governor,  promising  to  call  on  him  again  before  my 
departure.  Our  parting  was  marked  with  all  due  formality. 
We  rose  and  bowed  profoundly  to  each  other,  and  I  then 
retired  backwards,  keeping  an  eye  on  the  tank,  and  at  ten 
paces  from  the  carpet  I  bowed  again  and  departed. 

After  my  interview  with  the  Governor,  I  intended  start- 
ing as  soon  as  possible  for  Euchan,  but  was  delayed  by  the 
difficulty  of  finding  a  guide.  The  first  whom  I  engaged  in 
that  capacity  lost  his  courage  when  it  came  to  the  moment 
of  setting  out,  and  declined  to  go  unless  I  would  ask  for  an 
escort.  It  cost  me  a  couple  of  days  to  find  another  guide, 
and  thus  my  stay  in  Sabzavar  was  prolonged  until 
July  18,  eight  days  in  all.  On  the  evening  before 
starting  I  paid  my  visit  of  adieu  to  the  Governor,  and  before 

ff2 


436  REMINISCENCES  OF  LONDON. 

sunrise  rode  through  the  bazaar  as  the  people  were  un- 
barring their  booths,  on  my  way  to  the  gate  of  the  town. 
The  tenants  of  the  booths  gazed  after  me  with  an  air  of 
astonishment,  and  evidently  looked  on  my  project  of  pene- 
trating among  the  Tekk6  savages,  which  had  got  well 
published  everywhere  during  my  stay,  as  little  less  than 
lunacy.  The  last  person  to  whom  I  spoke  in  Sabzavar, 
oddly  enough,  happened  to  be  a  man  who  had  spent  nine 
years  in  London  as  a  servant  of  the  Persian  Envoy.  His 
impressions,  and  the  tastes  he  had  acquired  during  his 
travels,  were  peculiar.  He  would  like,  he  said,  to  return 
once  more  for  the  sake  of  eating  corned  beef  and  drinking 
bitter  ale.  He  also  had  been  highly  pleased  by  the  manner 
in  which  Madame  Patti  had  danced  the  cancan  at  the 
Alhambra  in  Leicester  Square ! 


LEAVING  SABZAVAR.  437 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

FROM   SABZAVAR  TO  KUOHAN. 

Exhausted  lands — Grapes  and  wine — Aliak — Beformed  thieves — Writing 
under  difficulties  —  Sultanabad — Antiquated  farm  implements — Saman 
fodder — Water-melons — Mineral  resources — Karagul  —  Sympathy  with 
Russia — Persian  highwaymen — Abdullah  Gau — Kuchan — The  Upper  At- 
terek — Weighing  the  chances — Russians  and  Turcomans — Anxieties — 
Railroad — Earthquakes — Dinner  with  a  Persian  Emir — A  frontier  court — 
Dinner-table  on  the  frontier — Social  fencing — Persian  sakouska— Family 
etiquette— A  renegade— Western  luxuries — A  Kurdish  orgie — A  young 
captive— Eastern  immorality — Going  home— Bitten  by  the  thab-ges — 
Fever  and  delirium — A  friend  in  need — A  desperate  remedy — Opium 
dreams — Recovery — Kuchan  medical  astrologers. 

The  sun  was  rising  as  I  rode  out  of  Sabzavar,  for,  being 
now  travelling  independently,  I  was  no  longer  under  the 
necessity  of  spending  the  morning  hours  in  the  inaction  to 
which  they  had  been  doomed  during  the  time  that  I 
accompanied  the  pilgrims.  The  road  to  Kuchan  runs  in 
a  north-easterly  direction,  winding  in  conformity  with  the 
outline  of  the  neighbouring  chain  of  hills,  but  level  itself. 
The  valley  through  which  it  runs  is  wide  and  extensively 
cultivated,  but,  owing  to  the  defective  system  of  agriculture 
employed,  the  crops  were  very  poor,  the  corn  stalks  being 
hardly  a  foot  high  and  the  ears  thin.  Water  is  plentiful, 
both  in  running  streams  and  artificial  ponds,  and  the 
dried-up  watercourses  indicate  that  in  winter  there  must 
be  a  still  more  abundant  supply.  A  village,  A  liar,  about 
seven  miles  from  Sabzavar,  is  surrounded  by  mulberry 
plantations,  which  furnish  food  for  the  silkworms.    Im- 


43*  PRODUCTS  OF  COUNTRY. 

mediately  beyond  Aliar  the  road  enters  a  district  of  dry 
and  barren  hills,  principally  formed  of  schistose  and  other 
metamorphic  rocks,  crossed  occasionally  by  vast  intrusive 
trap  dykes  which  stand  out  from  the  slopes  and  summits 
black  and  glistening  in  the  sun  with  an  almost  metallic 
lustre.  In  a  few  secluded  gullies  and  nooks  there  are 
streaks  and  patches  of  verdure  in  the  shape  of  tall  rank 
grass,  amid  which  apricot  and  mulberry  trees  with  extra* 
ordinarily  large  leaves  rise  here  and  there.  A  half-wild 
vine,  with  dense  clusters  of  very  small  grapes  red  in  colour, 
grows  among  the  rocks.  The  inhabitants  make  a  very 
poor  kind  of  wine,  in  colour  somewhat  like  tea,  and  of 
a  disagreeable  burned  flavour,  from  these  grapes.  They 
also  make  a  liquor,  which  they  call  arrack,  from  the 
plums  growing  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  this  they  consume 
extensively,  though  they  are  very  rigid  Mahomedans — Shiites 
of  course. 

The  road  wound  in  and  out  among  the  hills  for  about 
fifteen  miles,  after  which  the  valleys  began  to  open  out  into 
plains  dotted  with  hills  a  few  hundred  feet  high.  The  road 
was  entirely  deserted.  I  did  not  meet  half  a  dozen  persons 
during  the  whole  ride  from  Aliar.  Three  of  these  were 
men  driving  asses  laden  with  raw  cotton,  still  uncleaned. 
Silk  and  cotton  seem  to  be  the  chief  products  of  the  country. 
About  eight  miles  further  I  came  to  Aliak,  a  little  hamlet  of 
thirty  houses  huddled  together  on  a  small  hill  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  mountains.  The  people  of  this  place  had 
formerly  the  name  of  being  great  highway  robbers,  but 
when  I  passed  they  seemed  peaceable  enough,  and  received 
me  very  hospitably,  evidently  taking  me  for  a  Russian  from 
the  expeditionary  force  beyond  the  Atterek  (Monah  is  the 
name  it  bears  in  this  neighbourhood).  About  half  the 
male  population  were  sitting  under  a  great  plane-tree  in 
the  centre  of  the  village.    When  I  spoke  of  the  Turcomans 


RUDE  ACCOMMODATION.— REAPING.  439 

they  cursed  them  heartily,  and  expressed  the  hope  that 
they  might  be  thoroughly  dealt  with  this  time.  Fifteen 
miles  beyond  Aliak  I  reached  my  stopping-place  for  the 
night,  Sultanabad — a  small  but  strongly  fortified  village, 
the  surrounding  hills  being  also  furnished  with  watch- 
towers,  from  which  beacon  fires  could  readily  announce  the 
approach  of  an  enemy.  There  was  a  caravanserai,  but 
entirely  deserted,  as  the  track  is  little  travelled  over.  I 
established  my  quarters  in  a  large  dilapidated  room  on  the 
ground-floor,  and,  having  stuck  my  sword  in  the  wall,  and 
hung  the  linen  Chinese  lantern  I  carried  with  me  to  give 
light  at  night  on  the  hilt,  I  spread  a  horsecloth  on  the  floor, 
and,  lying  on  my  face  thereon,  proceeded  to  write  my 
correspondence.  Every  now  and  then  I  had  to  cast  a  look 
around  to  guard  against  the  advance  of  the  various  insect 
tribes — beetles,  spiders,  ants,  and  others — which  came  in 
columns  towards  my  light,  and  constantly  sought  to  climb 
on  my  carpet  and  investigate  the  contents  of  the  ink- 
bottle. 

At  daybreak  I  started  from  Sultanabad,  and  crossed  a 
valley,  some  eight  miles  wide  and  sixteen  long,  where  the 
inhabitants  were  busily  engaged  in  reaping  and  gathering 
the  grain  from  their  corn-fields.  The  processes  they  used 
were  decidedly  Homeric.  They  often  first  cut  off  the  ears 
and  then  reaped  the  straw  with  small,  old-fashioned  sickles, 
such  as  are  represented  on  antique  vases.  The  corn  was 
chiefly  barley,  which  in  some  places  was  being  threshed  out 
by  the  primitive  process  of  treading  with  oxen.  The  straw 
is  collected  as  carefully  as  the  grain,  as  it  forms  the  staple 
fodder  of  the  country.  The  peasants  spread  it  out  on  a 
beaten  earthen  floor,  and  a  kind  of  car,  resting  on  two  trunks 
of  trees,  armed  with  projecting  spikes  of  wood  about  three 
inches  long,  is  dragged  repeatedly  over  it  by  bullocks.  The 
straw  is  thus  chopped  into  short  pieces  a  couple  of  inches 


44©  SAMAN.— KHEIRABAD. 

long,  in  which  state,  under  the  name  of  saman,  it  is  given 
to  horses  instead  of  hay.  In  the  neighbourhood  of 
Erzeroum  a  heavy  plank,  the  under-side  studded  with 
sharp  fragments  of  flint  or  obsidian,  is  used  instead  of  the 
car  with  a  similar  result.  Fifteen  or  twenty  pounds  of 
this  saman  is  a  day's  ration  for  a  horse.  The  animals  seem 
to  thrive  on  it,  and  will  quit  the  freshest  hay  for  a  nose-bag 
of  it. 

Water-melon  patches  occur  frequently  in  this  vicinity, 
being  irrigated  from  the  kanots  or  covered  ditches  brought 
a  long  distance  from  the  hills.    The  melon  attains  great  1 

perfection  here,  and,  indeed,  with  proper  appliances  for 
irrigation,  the  entire  valley,  though  now  for  the  greater  part 
desert  or  merely  dotted  at  best  with  clumps  of  rough  grass  or 
beds  of  wild  thyme,  would  be  capable  of  the  highest  cultiva- 
tion. 'The  same  may  be  said  of  the  greatest  part  of 
Northern  Persia,  but  the  constant  inroads  of  the  Turco- 
mans have  hitherto  effectually  prevented  the  development  of 
the  natural  resources  of  the  country.  Near  the  eastern 
edge  of  the  plain  are  the  ruins  of  a  considerable  town, 
among  the  dismantled  towers  and  houses  of  which  a  shepherd 
was  leading  his  sheep  to  graze.  The  large  village  of 
Eheirabad  stands  about  a  mile  further  north,  and  there  I 
had  purposed  halting  for  breakfast,  but  as  the  people  could 
not  furnish  me  with  forage  for  my  horses,  I  had  to  con* 
tinue  my  route  fasting,  and  soon  got  among  arid  hills  from 
which  the  glare  of  the  sun  was  reflected  oppressively. 
The  rocks  of  which  these  hills  are  formed  are  chiefly  lime- 
stone and  gypsum  mixed  with  rotten  black  shale  in  highly 
distorted  beds.  At  a  distance  this  shale  closely  resembles 
coal,  and  the  shining  greasy-looking  grey  stone  which  occurs 
in  connection  with  it  is  so  like  the  roofs  and  floors  of  the 
coal  beds  that  it  heightens  the  delusion.  Though  I  was 
too  tired  and  hungry  to  make  more  than  a  superficial 


MINERALS.— KARAGUL.  441 

examination,  I  saw  enough  during  my  three  hours'  ride 
through  these  hills  to  convince  me  that  proper  exploration 
would  discover  numerous  mineral  veins  in  this  locality.  I 
picked  up  several  specimens  of  copper  ore,  haematite,  and 
brown  oxide  of  iron.  Beyond  the  hills  came  a  narrow 
winding  valley,  well  watered  and  cultivated,  where  the 
inhabitants  were  busy  getting  in  their  harvest.  The  yield 
seemed  to  be  very  large  in  proportion  to  the  population. 
A  good  deal  of  it,  probably,  would  find  its  way  across  the 
Atterek  to  the  Bussian  army.  There  was  abundant 
promise  that  a  good  crop  of  cereals  would  be  forthcoming 
in  this  part  of  Persia.  I  passed  numerous  fortified  villages 
perched  on  low  hills  flanking  the  valley ;  but,  the  inhabit- 
ants being  away  in  the  fields,  or  under  tents  with  their 
herds  on  the  mountains,  I  could  find  no  one  to  whom  to 
address  myself.  At  length,  after  a  weary  ride,  I  reached 
the  village  of  Karagul,  where  I  succeeded  in  unearthing 
three  witch-like  old  women,  who  were  down  in  a  cellar, 
engaged  in  boiling  something  in  a  pot.  They  must  have 
taken  me  for  a  Turcoman,  for  on  my  appearance  "they  fled 
away  into  inner  recesses,  from  which  they  were  only  with 
difficulty  induced  to  come  forth.  Through  their  agency  some 
men  were  discovered,  and  I  was  able  to  get  some  breakfast 
— eggs,  milk,  and  a  fowl,  as  usual.  I  had  had  such  a  sur- 
feit of  these  articles  during  a  long  period,  that  for  this 
reason  alone  I  looked  forward  with  pleasure  to  getting  into 
other  regions.  As  soon  as  my  arrival  was  made  known, 
the  entire  population  of  the  district  left  their  work,  and 
flocked  in  to  '  interview  *  me.  They  spoke  a  curious  mixture 
of  Persian  and  Turcoman,  a  jargon  with  which  I  was  tole- 
rably well  acquainted,  in  consequence  of  my  sojourn  on  the 
frontier.  They  all  took  me  to  be  a  Bussian,  owing  to  my 
wearing  a  white  tunic  and  cap,  and  were  loud  in  their  ex- 
pressions of  hope  that  ere  long  my  friends  would  overcome 


442  FRONTIER  IDEAS  ABOUT  RUSSIANS. 

the  common  adversary.     I  took  particular  care  to  register 
these  expressions  of  opinion  of  the  border  inhabitants,  as 
there  would  possibly  be  no  other  means  by  which  their  ideas 
could  reach  Europe.    Up  to  that  time,  so  far  as  I  had  been 
able  to  observe,  they  had  looked  upon  the  Russians  as  their 
friends,  inasmuch  as  the  latter  had  given  them  considerable 
respite  from  the  persecution  which,  during  centuries,  they 
had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  border  raiders.    Of  course 
these  frontier  Persians  are  as  a  rule  too  ignorant  to  be  able 
to  judge  of  the  future  possibilities  awaiting  them,  and  their 
sources  of  information  are  also  too  limited    to  allow   of 
their  doing  so.     They  know  the  Russians  as  folk  who, 
whether  intentionally  or  otherwise,  have  wrought  them  a 
great  deal  of  good,  and  shielded  them  from   evils  which 
their  own  Government  had  shown  itself  impotent  to  pre- 
vent.   A  Russian  army  marching  through  these  districts 
would  be  received  with  open  arms,  and,  as  the  Russians 
generally  pay  well  for  what  they  get  or  take,  would  be  wel- 
comed a  second  time.    I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that, 
among  the  masses  on  the  North  Persian  frontier,  Russian 
influence  is  predominant.     Perhaps  I  might  add,  deservedly 
so,  as  far  as  the  people  are  concerned.    With  regard  to  the 
political  aspect  of  the  matter,  so  far  as  my  observations 
have  gone,  the  Persian  Government  is  delighted  to  have 
some  one  to  rid  it  of  a  very  disagreeable  neighbour,  by 
whose  interference  its  frontier  populations  are  allowed  to 
follow  their  avocations  in  peace,  and  who,  sooner  or  later, 
may  bring  about  a  situation  in  which,  during  a  dispute,  a 
peaceable  neighbour  like  Persia  may  receive  a  good  portion 
of  the  fruits  of  a  possible  strife.      Persia  approximates 
singularly  to  Austria,  not  only  in  employing  the  officers  of 
that  Power  to  organise  her  army,  but  also  in  adopting  the 
peculiar  waiting  policy  bo  characteristic  of  Vienna  states- 
men.   I  am  afraid  that  the  only  result  of  this  doubtless  long- 


ROBBER  POPULATION.— ABDULLA   GAU        443 

sighted  policy  will  be  a  further  lease  of  beggarly  independ- 
ence, based  on  the  mutual  disagreements  of  surrounding 
peoples  too  strong  to  be  in  accord. 

The  valleys  in  the  mountain  chain  through  which  I 
passed  are  inhabited  by  a  race  which  until  lately  was  little 
less  given  to  marauding  than  the  Tekk6s  themselves,  who 
habitually  swept  through  the  passes  on  their  forays.  The 
villagers  regarded  lonely  parties  of  travellers  or  even  an 
inadequately  guarded  caravan  as  natural  prey.  During  the 
last  few  years,  however,  the  wise  and  energetic  measures  of 
the  Persian  Minister  Sipah  Salar  Aazem  have  secured  life 
and  property  comparatively  well  within  the  frontiers.  The 
head  man  of  Karagul,  a  tall  old  man  whose  long  beard  was 
dyed  with  henna  to  the  colour  of  a  fox's  back,  became  very 
friendly  with  me,  after  examining  in  succession  my  field 
glass,  revolver,  sketch-book,  &c.  He  advised  me  not  to  go 
through  the  Abdulla  Gau  Pass,  as  all  the  people  there  were 
'  shumsheer  adamlar,9  fond  of  the  sword.  He  then  pointed 
out  a  very  high  mountain,  the  top  of  which  was  shaped  like 
a  bishop's  mitre,  and  recommended  me  to  pass  through  the 
cleft  between  the  twin  peaks.  ,  However,  I  had  had  enough 
of  mountain  climbing  already,  and  so  preferred  to  risk  the 
dangers  of  the  road  as  it  lay  before  me.  Still,  I  was  so 
impressed  by  the  warnings  he  gave  me  that  I  determined 
not  to  pass  through  the  village  of  Abdulla  Gau  by  night, 
and  accordingly  I  and  my  servant  and  guide  camped  out 
on  a  steep  rock  near  that  place  and  kept  watch  by  turns  all 
night.  In  the  morning  we  boldly  entered  the  suspected 
village,  and  found  the  people  a  sober-looking  lot  enough. 
One  of  them  offered  me  some  fine  turquoises,  from  the 
mines  of  that  gem  on  the  mountains  of  Madane,  at  a  very 
low  price.  Though  much  tempted  to  buy,  I  feared  the  offer 
might  be  a  ruse  to  find  out  how  much  money  I  had,  and  I 
declined  traffic.    Beyond  Abdulla  Gau  the  valley  narrowed 


444  ENTERING  KUCHAN. 

considerably,  bat  was  highly  cultivated  throughout  its  whole 
extent.  After  a  couple  of  miles  this  valley  widened  out  into 
a  plain,  also  well  cultivated.  The  road  then  led  over  a 
steep  and  stony  mountain,  on  the  north-easterly  side  of 
which  we  descended  into  the  wide  tract  where  the  Keshef 
Rood  has  its  source.  Villages  were  numerous,  sometimes 
half  a  dozen  being  grouped  together  with  only  a  couple  of 
hundred  yards  between  them.  Before  us,  inclosed  in  far 
extending  groves  of  chenar  and  mulberry,  was  Kuchan,  and 
beyond  rose  the  blue  chain  of  the  Akhal  Tekk6  mountains, 
whither  my  course  was  directed.  After  seeing  the  Atterek 
at  its  mouth  and  following  its  course  many  a  mile  through 
the  Steppes,  I  had  now  reached  the  proximity  of  its 
source.  At  first  I  thought  Kuchan  was  a  place  of  some 
size,  from  the  extent  of  the  gardens  around  it,  but  a  near 
approach  undeceived  me.  Except  the  bazaar  and  a  ruined 
mosque,  all  the  buildings  and  walls  were  of  earth.  As  I 
rode  through  the  former  the  tradesmen  looked  up  from 
their  work  to  stare  at  the  unwonted  sight  of  a  European, 
and  even  the  women  forgot  to  draw  their  veils  in  their 
curiosity  to  see  a  Perenghi.  There  were  many  strangers 
in  the  place,  and  among  them  several  from  Gandahar  and 
Cabul,  including  three  chiefs,  one  of  whom  told  me  he  had 
been  present  when  the  Residency  was  stormed.  The 
caravanserai  was  about  sixty  yards  square,  the  stables 
being  on  the  ground-floor  and  the  lodging  for  travellers 
above,  with  a  balcony  about  ten  feet  above  the  soil  to  give 
access.  I  stowed  myself  and  luggage  in  the  den  allotted 
to  me,  and  attempted  some  writing,  but  was  disturbed  by 
a  sudden  invasion  of  winged  cockroaches,  evidently  drawn 
by  my  candlelight.  These  intruders  resemble  the  common 
'black  clocks'  of  our  coal-cellars  at  home,  but  fly  quite 
actively.  Small  carnivorous  beetles  came  in  thousands 
during  the  night  and  effectually  prevented  sleep.    During 


THE  ATTEREK.  445 

the  day  the  beetles  disappear,  but  only  to  be  replaced  by 
clouds  of  flies,  scarcely  less  annoying  in  their  way. 

Kuchan  being  an  important  point  on  the  frontier,  I  had 
to  spend  some  days  there  to  prepare  for  the  most  perilous 
part  of  my  journey,  the  expedition  among  the  Turcomans. 
I  wanted  some  information  from  the  Governor,  who  rejoiced 
in  the  high-sounding  title  of  the  Shudja-ed-Dowlet  Emir 
Hussein  Khan,  but  that  dignitary  at  the  date  of  my  arrival 
was  absent  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Meshed,  though  expected 
home  at  any  hour.  I  utilised  the  delay  to  explore  the  sur- 
roundings of  Kuchan.  The  Atterek  river  flows  nearly  a 
mile  to  the  north  of  the  town,  and  the  slopes  leading  down 
to  its  banks  are  covered  with  vineyards,  the  grapes  being 
extensively  used  for  the  production  of  wine  and  arrack. 
The  river  is  here  about  twenty-five  feet  wide  and  only  a 
few  inches  deep,  with  very  gently  sloping  banks  and  an  all 
but  imperceptible  current.  The  water  has  no  trace  of  the 
saline  matter  which  is  found  in  the  river  lower  down  at 
Ghatte.  A  rude  bridge  of  brick  crosses  it,  the  marks  on 
the  piers  of  which  indicate  a  rise  of  three  or  four  feet  at 
least  during  the  winter  floods.  Sitting  on  the  ruined 
parapet  of  this  bridge,  I  mused  on  the  chances  of  my  ever 
recrossing  it,  once  I  should  make  my  final  start  for  the 
Akhal  Tekk6,  and  I  remained  so  long  absorbed  in  my 
thoughts  that  my  servant  at  last  touched  my  elbow,  think- 
ing I  was  asleep,  and  reminded  me  of  the  approach  of 
evening. 

My  purpose  was  to  push  on  to  Askabad  in  the  heart  of 
the  Akhal  Tekk6  country,  and  about  eighty  miles  or  more 
from  Kuchan,  beyond  the  mountain  range  which  rose  some 
nine  or  ten  thousand  feet  straight  before  me.  I  was  sub- 
sequently compelled  by  circumstances  to  change  this  plan, 
but  at  the  time  I  am  writing  of  I  expected  to  find  myself  in 
a  few  days  amongst  the  dreaded  nomads.    I  hardly  knew 


446  REFLECTIONS. 

how  I  could  keep  up  my  communications  with  the  civilised 
world  across  these  savage  mountains,  as  there  seemed  to  be 
no  intercourse  at  this  place  between  the  Persians  and  any 
tribe  of  Turcomans.  I  had  not  seen  one  of  the  colossal  hats 
of  the  latter  anywhere  in  the  bazaar,  though  at  Asterabad 
they  could  be  reckoned  by  dozens.  Besides,  I  was  quite 
uncertain  what  reception  I  should  meet  among  the  Tekkta 
in  their  own  country.  Should  I  fall  into  the  hands  of  any 
of  the  roving  bands  of  marauders  usually  to  be  met  with  I 
was  pretty  sure  to  be  carried  off  nolens  volens  either  to 
Merv  or  somewhere  else,  and  there  kept  until  I  could 
procure  a  respectable  ransom.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  I 
should  run  across  the  advancing  Russians,  I  was  certain  of 
being  sent  under  escort  to  my  old  quarters  at  Tchikislar 
and  thence  shipped  across  the  Caspian  to  Baku.  Between 
the  Turcoman  Scylla  and  the  Russian  Gharybdis  my 
course  promised  to  be  a  difficult  one,  and  I  might  well 
ponder  its  chances  as  I  sat  on  the  Euchan  bridge  wall. 

With  better  government  and  well-directed  energy  the 
country  around  Euchan  might  be  made  one  of  the  richest 
parts  of  Persia.  The  roads  to  Meshed,  Sabzavar,  and  the 
main  road  to  Teheran  could  be  made  excellent  ones  at  a 
trifling  cost.  There  is  also  a  pass  near  Abasabad  by 
which  a  railroad  could  easily  be  built  from  Sabzavar  to  the 
capital,  and  the  traffic  would  be  large  even  from  the  outset  if 
one  may  judge  by  the  numerous  camel  trains  and  troops  of 
horses  and  donkeys  which  are  constantly  passing  backwards 
and  forwards  laden  with  silk,  cotton,  iron,  and  other  goods. 
The  very  large  number  of  pilgrims,  too,  would  swell  the 
traffic,  and  even  tax  to  the  utmost  the  carrying  capacities  of 
a  Meshed-Teheran  railroad.  At  present  the  means  of 
communication  with  the  outside  world  are  wretched.  The 
postal  service  does  not  extend  north  of  the  high  road  from 
Teheran  to  Meshed,   and  to  send  a  letter  or  telegram 


A  STRANGE  CHARACTER —EARTHQUAKE.       447 

from  Kuchan  one  has  to  ride  nearly  a  hundred  miles  over 
very  unsafe  roads  or  else  send  a  special  courier  the  same 
distance.  Still,  the  investment  of  European  capital  in 
Persian  railroads  could  not  be  recommended  as  long  as  the 
present  state  of  insecurity  continues  along  the  frontier, 
however  great  the  resources  of  the  country.  I  met  one 
European  during  my  stay  in  Kuchan,  He  was  a  curious 
character,  some  twenty-five  years  of  age,  with  blue  eyes 
and  long  yellow  hair.  He  spoke  Russian  and  German,  but 
no  other  European  language,  though  he  said  he  was  half 
French  and  half  German.  He  had  recently  embraced 
Mahomedanism,  and  moreover  he  told  me  he  was  a  Nihilist, 
but  he  would  not  tell  the  motives  which  had  brought  him 
to  Kuchan.  The  people  there  set  him  down  as  a  lunatic, 
and  I  have  little  doubt  that  they  included  me  in  the  same 
category.  A  sharp  shock  of  earthquake  occurred  the 
evening  after  my  arrival,  and  I  learned  that  such  are  quite 
common  and  sometimes  very  violent.  The  town  was 
completely  ruined  by  one  about  twenty-five  years  ago. 

The  Governor  returned  on  the  third  day  kfter  my  arrival. 
He  despatched  his  chamberlain,  an  elderly  and  dignified 
personage,  bearing  a  silver  mace  as  the  badge  of  his  office, 
to  notify  me  of  the  fact,  and  to  invite  me  to  dinner. 
Evening  was  falling  as,  accompanied  by  my  two  servants,  I 
proceeded  to  the  Emir's  palace.  The  straggling  booths  of 
the  bazaar  were  closed,  and  we  stumbled  through  its  narrow 
alleys  in  the  dark  as  best  we  could,  for  the  branch  roofs 
overhead  completely  excluded  even  the  twilight  that 
remained  in  the  sky.  Dogs  and  huge  rats  scurried  away 
at  the  sound  of  our  approach,  and  more  than  once  my 
guide  had  to  lead  me  like  a  blind  man  through  the  labyrinth 
of  holes  and  ditches  of  dirty  water,  a  common  feature  of 
Eastern  towns.  The  Emir's  palace  has  a  large  open  space 
in  front.    The  main  entrance  was  in  the  form  of  a  horse- 


448  DINNER   WITH  AN  EMIR. 

shoe  arch  built  of  red  brick,  while  the  walls  around  were 
only  mud  structures.  Squatting  on  the  ground  around 
were  nearly  a  hundred  people,  many  of  them  Turcomans. 
They  were  persons  who  had  requests  to  make  of,  or 
petitions  to  present  to,  the  Governor  of  Kuchan.  Within 
the  groined  arch  inside  the  horseshoe  gate  was  a  guard 
of  men-at-arms.  As  I  stepped  into  the  guard-room  I  was 
met  by  the  chamberlain,  who,  dismissing  the  crowd  of 
unfortunate  applicants,  immediately  ushered  me  into  a 
courtyard  measuring  some  fifty  feet  square.  Passing  by 
a  doorway  at  the  further  side,  I  entered  a  still  larger  court, 
paved  with  square  tiles,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  a 
large  rectangular  reservoir  of  water,  in  the  centre  of  which 
played  a  fountain.  Arranged  in  the  middle  of  the  pave- 
ment were  flower-beds,  planted  entirely  with  the  '  marvel 
of  Peru/  that  sweet-scented  flower  which  opens  its  blossom 
to  the  sunset,  and  fills  the  night  air  with  its  perfume.  It 
is  a  favourite  with  the  Persians,  whose  banquets  always  take 
place  after  sundown.  The  scene  which  met  my  eyes  was 
extraordinary.  Banged  round  the  large  courtyard  were  at 
least  a  hundred  candles,  burning  in  the  peculiar  candlesticks 
which  Bussia  has  made  familiar  to  this  part  of  the  fron- 
tier. The  candle,  buried  in  the  body  of  the  candlestick, 
was  forced  gradually  upwards  by  a  helical  spring,  as  in 
ordinary  carriage  lamps,  the  flame  being  protected  from 
the  wind  by  a  tulip-shaped  bell-glass.  Shaded  candles  of 
the  same  description  were  placed  around  the  border  of  the 
tank,  between  which  and  the  main  entrance  of  the  Emir's 
residence  a  long  table,  draped  in  white  linen,  was  laid  out 
h  la  Franca.  On  the  table  burned  half  a  dozen  candle- 
lamps. 

At  some  distance  from  and  at  right  angles  to  the 
table  was  a  long-backed  wooden  bench.  Sitting  upon  this, 
and  attired  in  sober  broadcloth  robes,  reaching  to  their 


A  KURD  HOST.  449 

heels,  were  a  dozen  individuals — brothers  and  cousins  of  the 
Emir,  Hussein  Khan,  and  who  had  been  invited  to  do 
honour  to  his  guest.  A  silver-mounted  water-pipe,  the 
head  set  with  turquoises  and  emeralds,  was  passed  from 
hand  to  hand.  I  took  my  place,  as  invited,  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  Governor,  and  we  entered  into  the  usual 
pointless  conversation  so  characteristic  of  Eastern  inter- 
course. We  spoke  of  anything  and  everything  except 
that  which  was  nearest  to  our  hearts  or  had  reference  to 
the  situation.  It  was  a  kind  of  social  fencing,  for  the  Emir 
was  not  at  all  sure  that  I  was  what  I  represented  myself  to 
be,  only  a  traveller,  trying  to  gather  information  about 
these  far-off  lands,  and  not  an  envoy  who  had  been  de- 
spatched to  enquire  deftly  into  the  particular  policy  which 
he  might  have  adopted  in  view  of  the  then  critical  situation. 
A  servant  brought  in  a  silver  tray,  upon  which  were  large 
glasses  of  the  abominable  spirit  called  arrack,  each  of 
which  was  supposed  to  be  emptied  at  a  draught.  This  tray 
was  handed  round  with  a  frequency  which  led  me  strongly 
to  doubt  the  orthodoxy  of  my  Kurd  host.  The  whole  pro- 
ceeding was  consistent  with  what  I  had  hitherto  seen  of 
before-dinner  practices  in  the  East. 

We  were  all  slightly  stimulated  before  a  move  was  made 
towards  the  dinner  table.  When  the  Emir  stood  up,  his 
kinsmen  rose  to  their  feet,  and  drew  themselves  up  in  line, 
each  looking  the  very  personification  of  humility — their 
feet  close  together,  their  toes  turned  in,  each  hand  thrust 
up  the  opposite  sleeve,  and  each  head  slightly  reclining 
upon  thg  right  shoulder.  The  Emir  walked  up  and  down 
the  paved  enclosure,  talking  rather  wildly.  He  spoke  of 
his  friend  Dr.  Tholozan,  the  Shah's  physician,  who  had 
kindly  given  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to  him.  He  stated 
that  that  gentleman  had  marvellously  cured  him  of  a 
malady  of  long  standing,  and  went  so  far  as  to  say  that 

vol.  i.  a  a 


45©  KURD  MANNERS. 

even  Persian  medical  men  could  not  pretend  to  the  amount 
of  science  which  the  Frankish  doctor  commanded. 

The  Kurd  governors  of  the  frontier,  military  commandants 
of  the  colonies  founded  by  Shah  Abass  the  Great,  and  by 
his  still  greater  successor  the  usurper  Nadir  Shah,  have 
never  been  considered  as  thoroughly  identified  with  the 
Persian  kingdom.  The  manners  and  customs  of  these 
communities  differ  exceedingly  from  those  of  their  more 
southern  brethren,  and  on  the  whole,  wild  though  they  are 
in  some  respects,  are  in  many  ways  immensely  superior  to 
those  of  the  latter.  Among  the  peculiarities  borrowed  from 
the  Persians  which  I  noted,  was  the  intense  reverence  paid 
by  the  younger  scions  to  the  chief  of  the  family,  altogether 
apart  from  his  political  position.  While  the  relatives 
Stood  in  a  row,  the  Emir  marched  up  to  the  table.  Taking 
a  handful  of  sweetmeats  from  a  dish,  he  distributed  them 
to  his  submissive-looking  kinsfolk,  each  of  whom  held  both 
hands  extended  at  arms'  length,  and  close  together,  as 
though  he  expected  to  receive  a  donation  of  small-shot  or 
quicksilver,  and  bowed  low  in  acknowledgment  of  the  high 
compliment  paid-  to  him.  Then  we  made  a  move  to  the 
dinner  table,  which  was  spread  in  the  middle  of  the  court- 
yard. For  a  wonder,  there  were  chairs  and  benches,  with 
which  the  immediate  relations  of  the  Emir  and  myself  were 
accommodated.  The  remainder  of  the  party,  some  thirty 
in  number,  sat  upon  long  wooden  forms.  The  table,  a  long 
one,  was  draped  in  faultlessly  white  cloth.  In  its  midst 
was  a  great  silver  centre-piece,  loaded  with  roses,  and 
flanked  on  either  side  by  a  complete  set  of  ornaments,  in- 
cluding vases  of  opaline  glass,  decorated  on  the  outside  with 
gilt  and  ruby  beads.  These  were  Russian  presents.  The 
Emir  supposed  that  the  vases  were  goblets,  and  more  than 
once  in  the  course  of  the  dinner  they  were  filled  with  wine 
on  the  occasion  of  the  different  toasts  which  were  drunk. 


THE  MASTER  OF  THE  CEREMONIES.  45 1 

The  ceremonies  were  marshalled  by  a  person  to  whom  I 
have  already  had  occasion  to  allude.  He  was  of  mixed  race ; 
his  father  being  French,  his  mother  German.  From  his 
earliest  years  he  had  lived  in  Russia,  and  his  education, 
such  as  it  was,  he  told  me  had  been  received  at  the  Univer- 
sity of  Moscow.  According  to  his  own  statement,  he  had 
been  banished  from  Baku,  on  the  western  shores  of  the 
Caspian  Sea,  for  political  reasons.  He  had  thrown  in  his 
lot  with  the  Mussulman  populations  of  Central  Asia,  and  had 
embraced  Islam  at  the  shrine  of  Imam  Riza.  He  had  been 
in  dire  want,  and  found  the  pilaff,  which  was  distributed 
gratuitously  at  the  tomb  of  the  saint,  acceptable.  He 
subsequently  became  a  tutor  in  the  family  of  the  Prince 
Governor  of  Meshed,  and  afterwards  a  kind  of  hanger-on  at 
the  court  of  the  Emir  of  Euchan.  His  nominal  position 
was  that  of  a  teacher  of  French ;  his  actual  one  I  was  not 
able  to  fathom  at  the  moment,  though  it  was  sufficiently 
made  known  to  me  later  on.  He  was  called,  in  the  French 
tongue,  Charles  Dufour;  in  the  language  of  his  newly- 
adopted  country,  Ali  Islam.  During  the  dinner  he  con- 
stantly went  to  and  fro  between  the  kitchen  and  the  table, 
ordering  up  soups  and  dishes  as  occasion  required. 

The  table  d'hote  was  an  unusual  one.  The  candles 
flared  around  the  courtyard,  their  lights  glancing  in  the 
great  reservoir.  The  air  was  heavy  with  the  scent  of  the 
flowers.  Around  us  were  the  ruins  of  the  old  palace, 
destroyed  by  an  earthquake  twenty  years  previously.  The 
Kurdish  Governor  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table.  I 
sat  opposite  to  him.  On  either  side  were  the  colossal 
forms,  gleaming  eyes,  and  sombre  robes  of  his  relations. 
Before  we  commenced  to  dine,  arrack  was  again  served 
round.  After  each  glass  one  took  from  a  dish  a  kind  of 
acid  paste,  the  Kurdish  name  for  which  I  have  forgotten, 
and  then  very  fair  Bordeaux  wine  was  served.    This  I  took 

o  o  2 


453  BACCHANAUAN  SCENE. 

to  be  an  imitation  of  the  Russian  zakouska,  which  the 
frontier  Kurds  have  probably  borrowed  from  the  soldiers  of 
the  expedition.  Then  there  were  roasted  almonds  and 
pistaches.  While  we  were  disposing  of  this  pre-prandial 
repast,  I  remarked  to  the  Emir  that  in  Turkey  we  alwayB 
drank  mastic  on  such  occasions.  '  I  know  it  well/  ex- 
claimed he ;  '  did  you  bring  any  with  you  ? '  And  he 
leaned  eagerly  across  the  table.  *  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I 
did  not,'  I  replied ;  '  but  if  your  Excellency  wishes  I  shall 
take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  forwarding  you  some  from 
Constantinople  when  I  get  back  there/  We  had  soup,  and 
dishes  ab  libitum ;  and  I  could  never  have  believed  that  the 
human  frame  was  capable  of  absorbing  such  an  amount  of 
nutrition  if  I  had  not  seen  these  Kurds  eat.  We  were  sup- 
plied with  the  excellent  dry  white  wine  of  the  country,  and 
Chateau  Margaux.  The  latter  must  have  been  brought  at  an 
enormous  expense  from  Europe.  It  was  probably  a  present 
from  the  expeditionary  generals  beyond  the  frontier. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  banquet,  my  host  and  his 
guests  became  rather  excited  by  the  alcoholic  beverages 
which  they  were  consuming  with  a  will.  They  talked  at 
random,  and  spoke  of  their  exploits  in  the  field  against 
the  Tekk6  Turcomans.  Later  they  fell  to  embracing  each 
other  in  a  more  than  brotherly  fashion.  I  was  sitting 
opposite  the  Emir's  brother,  and  had  got  so  far  as  making 
a  pun,  in  the  Kurdish  language,  about  mushrooms,  of 
which  we  were  partaking  at  the  moment,  when  the  opposite 
form  was  suddenly  upset,  and  Emir,  chiefs,  and  generals 
rolled  upon  the  pavement,  locked  in  each  others*  embraces. 
They  kissed  each  other  with  fervour,  swore  undying  devotion, 
and  seemed  in  no  wise  inclined  to  resume  their  positions  at 
table.  At  this  juncture  a  side  door  opened,  and  a  boy  of 
nine  or  ten  years  was  brought  in  by  some  attendants.  He 
was  a  Turcoman  child,  and  had  been  captured  six  months 


A    YOUNG  CAPTIVE.— FINALE.  453 

previously  during  one  of  the  razzias  which  were  of  every-day 
occurrence  on  this  frontier.  His  long,  light-brown  hair 
hung  upon  his  shoulders,  and  his  light  grey  eye  showed  that 
he  was  not  of  Persian  birth.  The  Emir,  who  by  this  time 
had  picked  himself  up,  explained  to  me  that  this  was  his 
favourite  captive.  He  took  him  on  his  knee  and  kissed  him, 
and  he  was  then  passed  round  to  all  of  us.  When  he  came 
to  me  he  shrank  away,  muttering  the  word  *  Kaffir  ! '  In 
the  East  two  epithets  are  applied  to  non-Mussulmans, 
Kaffir  and  Giaour.  *  Giaour '  means  simply  a  Christian,  or, 
speaking  generally,  a  non-Mussulman  deist  of  some  kind. 
*  Kaffir '  is  the  more  objectionable  epithet,  and  signifies  an 
unbeliever,  or  pagan.  The  poor  little  Turcoman  child  who 
shrank  from  me  as  *  Kaffir '  was  retained  by  the  Emir  for 
purposes  which  it  would  not  beseem  me  to  mention  in 
detail. 

Towards  midnight  wild  confusion  ensued.  The  greater 
number  of  the  party  were  sprawling  over  the  tiled  courtyard, 
the  cousins  swearing  eternal  love  and  fidelity  to  each  other, 
and  indulging  in  unseemly  embraces.  The  Emir  himself 
pretended  to  have  need  of  exercise,  and  was  promenaded 
from  one  end  of  the  space  to  the  other,  a  servant  holding 
him  under  each  arm — his  feet  in  front,  his  whole  body 
making  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  with  the  horizon. 
Suddenly  he  recollected  himself,  and,  sitting  upon  a  chair, 
asked,  solemnly,  '  Has  the  Ingleez  gone  home  yet  ? '  He 
evidently  believed  that,  before  proceeding  further  with  his 
orgies,  objectionable  witnesses  should  be  got  rid  of.  I  took 
the  hint,  rose,  and,  exchanging  salutes  as  well  as  I  could 
with  the  prostrate  company,  made  for  the  door.  The  mace- 
bearer  marched  before  me,  accompanied  by  four  men 
bearing  lanterns,  such  as  can  only  be  seen  in  this  part  of 
the  world.  They  were  nearly  as  large  as  the  bass  drum  of 
a  military  band,  and  were  made  of  waxed  linen,  closing  up 


4$4  ILLNESS. 

like  a  concertina  when  not  in  use.  The  bigger  the  lanterns, 
the  greater  is  supposed  to  be  the  dignity  of  the  individual 
whom  they  precede. 

We  stumbled  through  the  narrow,  dark  passages  of  the 
bazaar,  and  when  I  had  thrown  myself  upon  the  leopard- 
skin  stretched  upon  the  floor  of  the  caravanserai,  I  jotted 
down  the  notes  from  which  I  have  written  this  description. 

An  illness  of  three  weeks'  duration  followed  the  Emir's 
banquet.  After  returning  to  my  earth-walled  chamber, 
and  trying  to  sleep  as  best  I  could,  for  I  was  very  tired,  I 
took  none  of  the  usual  precautions  against  the  shab-gez.  At 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning  my  arms  and  legs  were  covered 
with  the  tumid  bodies  of  these  pests.  Two  days  later, 
virulent-looking  pustules  marked  the  bitten  spots.  I  had 
felt  inclined  to  doubt  what  had  been  told  me  in  regard  to 
the  sting  of  these  ferocious  insects,  but  later  experience 
proved  how  mistaken  I  had  been.  A  high  fever  resulted. 
It  had  typhoid  symptoms,  all  of  which  were  aggravated  by 
the  foul  air  of  the  caravanserai,  the  bad  food  and  water, 
and  the  anxiety  of  mind  about  my  coming  journey.  For 
two  days  and  nights  I  was  delirious.  In  a  lucid  moment 
I  discovered  that  I  was  suffering  from  one  of  the  most 
dangerous  complications  of  typhoid  enteric  disease.  No  one 
who  has  not  been  similarly  circumstanced  can  imagine  my 
critical  position.  Here  I  was,  in  a  semi-barbarous  town, 
with  no  one  near  who  had  the  slightest  idea  of  the  nature 
of  my  malady,  no  medicine,  no  doctor.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  intelligent  devotion  of  a  friend,  a  Tekk6  sheep- 
skin merchant,  I  do  not  believe  that  I  should  now  be  alive. 
He  sat  by  me  during  my  delirium,  applied  ice  to  my  head, 
and  was  the  only  one  who  understood  me  when  I  asked  for 
camphor,  the  sole  available  drug.  There  was  a  moment 
when  the  enteric  irritation  was  so  severe  that  I  felt  con- 
vinced my  last  hour  had  arrived.    I  made  up  my  mind  to  try 


EFFECTS  OF  OPIUM.  455 

a  desperate  remedy,  and  sent  for  opium.  I  took  what  for 
me,  who  had  never  tasted  the  drug  before,  was  an  enormous 
dose— a  piece  as  large  as  the  first  joint  of  one's  little  finger. 
The  effect  was  magical  so  far  as  the  pain  was  concerned, 
and  I  then  lost  consciousness  for  nearly  forty-eight  hours. 
For  once  I  can  write  the  '  Confessions  of  an  Opium- 
eater/  and  I  must  say  that  my  experiences  of  the  visions 
conjured  up  would  scarcely  tempt  me  into  a  De  Quincey's 
career.  First  I  became  chairman  of  a  Russian  Nihilistic 
society ;  then  I  was  transformed  into  a  black  goat  pursued 
by  panthers  on  the  mountains;  then  I  was  a  raging 
torrent,  dashing  away  to  some  terrible  end ;  and  then  I 
remember  no  more.  I  woke  with  an  intense  feeling  of 
dread  and  horror,  and  half  a  day  passed  before  I  could 
recognise  the  faces  around  me.  When  my  senses  were  a 
little  collected,  I  asked  for  some  arrack,  the  odious,  poison- 
ous stuff  to  be  had  at  Euchan ;  but  it  was  the  only  stimu- 
lant available.  Diluting  this  with  much  water,  I  took  it 
from  time  to  time  to  combat  the  terrific  opiatic  reaction, 
and  gradually  I  came  back  to  my  normal  state.  The  pain 
was  wonderfully  relieved,  but  I  was  crushed  and  shattered 
like  a  broken  bulrush.  Then  I  gradually  mended,  little  by 
little. 

These  personal  details  may  not  be  very  interesting  to 
general  readers,  but  they  may  perchance  be  of  practical  use 
to  some  one  who  may  hereafter  be  placed  in  like  desperate 
straits.  Several  would-be  physicians  wanted  badly  to  pre- 
scribe for  me,  but  as  I  knew  that  every  one  of  them  carried 
an  astrolabe  in  his  pocket,  which  would  have  to  be  con- 
sulted before  he  looked  at  my  tongue,  and  also,  in  all 
probability,  a  brass  basin  in  which  to  roast  the  fiend  who 
had  possession  of  me,  I  declined  their  aid  with  thanks. 


456  EASTERN  EXAGGERATION. 


CHAPTER  XXYII. 

MILITARY  AND   POLITICAL   SITUATION. 

How  news  travels  in  the  East — The  Russian  advance — The  defence  of  Geok 
Tepe — Night  in  a  Persian  caravanserai — Persian  singing — Persian  servants 
— Scenes  on  the  Upper  Atterek — A  house-top  promenade — Interview 
with  a  Turcoman  envoy — The  Turcoman  version  of  the  course  of  hos- 
tilities— Russian  tactics — A  Turcoman  poet — Modern  weapons  among 
the  Nomads — Mussulman  troops  in  the  Russian  service — The  Daghestan 
cavalry — Vambery  on  Russian  intrigues — Shiites  and  Sunnites — Peculiar 
mercy  to  co-religionists — The  telegraphic  service — Iron  posts  versus 
wooden  poles — Turcoman  auxiliaries  to  Russia — The  effect  of  the  Afghan 
war  on  Central  Asia — Turcoman  hopes  of  British  aid — Russian  designs 
on  India — The  feeling  of  the  Russian  army — Lettor  to  Makdum  Kuli  Khan 
— Persia  and  Russia — Benevolent  neutrality  of  the  Shah's  Government — 
Russian  courtesies  to  Persian  officials — Understanding  between  Persia  and 
Russia — Start  for  Meshed. 

The  inaccuracy  and  exaggeration  to  which  news  is  subject 
in  the  East,  even  when  travelling  a  short  distance,  are  truly 
marvellous.  The  intelligence  brought  by  a  courier  from 
Askabad,  to  the  effect  that  the  Russian  troops  had  attacked 
Geok  Tep6  in  great  force,  and  been  repulsed  with  heavy 
loss,  turned  out  to  be  based  only  upon  a  brisk  skirmish  be- 
tween a  reconnoitring  party  of  Kussian  cavalry  and  a 
Turcoman  patrol.  In  travelling  about  forty  miles  this 
intelligence  had  been  magnified  into  the  description  of  a 
general  action.  At  the  time,  I  felt  a  good  deal  surprised 
that  the  Russian  expedition  under  the  command  of  General 
Skobeleff  should  have  undergone  a  reverse  like  that  of  the 
previous  year,  at  the  same  spot,  when  the  rashness  of 
Lomakin  hurled  his  utterly  inadequate  numbers  against  the 


DESERTION  OF  SERVANTS.  457 

Turcoman  ramparts.  Without  being  actually  on  the  ground, 
and  witnessing  things  for  one's  self,  there  was  no  chance 
of  learning  the  absolute  truth.  I  had  hoped  to  be  close  to 
the  Tekk6  stronghold  before  that  time,  and  very  probably 
should  have  been,  had  I  not  been  prevented  from  setting 
out  by  the  desertion  of  two  servants  whom  I  had  hired  to 
accompany  me.  They  were  afraid  to  trust  themselves 
among  the  Turcomans,  and  for  the  same  reason  I  found  it 
very  difficult  to  replace  them.  Even  after  a  careful  selec- 
tion of  two  new  men,  I  was  not  by  any  means  sure  that 
they  would  not  desert  me  at  the  last  moment.  I  do  not 
recollect  ever  having  come  in  contact  with  one  set  of  men 
so  absolutely  afraid  of  another  as  these  border  Persians  are 
of  the  Turcomans.  The  warlike  colony  of  Kurds  planted 
along  the  Atterek  from  Budjnoord  to  Kelat-i-Nadri  sup- 
plies the  only  borderers  capable  of  holding  their  own  against 
the  Tekkes. 

As  far  as  my  information  went,  the  Russians  were  as- 
sembling at  the  head  of  the  Akhal  Tekke  district,  at  the  point 
where  the  road  from  Ghatte  debouches  from  the  mountains 
near  Bendessen.  It  was  at  the  same  place  where  the 
Bussian  army  concentrated  a  portion  of  its  forces  prepara- 
tory to  the  disastrous  advance  to  Geok  Tepe  under  General 
Lomakin  after  Lazareffs  death.  How  the  whole  affair 
broke  down  from  want  of  sufficient  transportation,  coupled 
with  the  over-confidence  of  victory,  is  now  too  well  known 
to  need  repeating.  Taught  by  the  experience,  the  Russians 
were  advancing  with  caution,  and  establishing  provision 
depots  and  fortified  posts  sufficiently  near  to  obviate  the 
necessity  of  falling  back  on  their  base  at  the  Caspian  shore, 
even  should  failure  again  attend  their  efforts  to  capture  the 
Tekke  fortress.  The  Turcomans  had  swept  the  road  clear 
of  all  supplies,  and  their  tactics  seemed  to  be  to  draw  their 
enemies  as  far  as  possible  from  their  bases  at  Tchikislar 


458  SITUATION  AT  THE  FRONT. 

and  Chatte,  to  devastate  the  country  before  them,  and  then 
fight  when  the  invaders  should  be  reduced  in  strength  by 
sickness,  casualties,  and  the  necessary  detachment  of  parties 
to  keep  open  the  communications.  The  Russians,  on  the 
other  hand,  tried  to  counteract  these  attacks  by  advancing 
slowly,  and  establishing  fortified  posts  along  their  line  of  ad- 
vance of  such  strength,  natural  or  artificial,  as  to  require 
very  small  garrisons.  In  fact,  after  securing  the  line  of 
communications  by  as  few  men  as  possible,  so  as  to  bring 
a  large  force  to  the  front,  the  Russian  object  was  to  estab- 
lish a  second  base  of  operations  as  near  the  scene  of  action 
as  practicable,  which  would  render  the  advanced  corps  in- 
dependent, at  least  for  a  considerable  time,  of  the  more 
distant  stations  at  Ghatte  and  Tchikislar. 

That  all  attempts  at  a  compromise,  if,  indeed,  any  such 
had  been  made,  had  broken  down,  was  evident  from  the 
attitude  of  the  Turcomans.  They  abandoned  the  entire 
oasis  up  to  Geok  Tep6,  and  there  concentrated  the  bulk  of 
their  fighting  men.  Reinforcements  of  Merv  Turcomans 
came  up  at  the  same  time.  These  Merv  supports,  how- 
ever, were  by  no  means  so  numerous  as  was  stated.  The 
force  at  Geok  Tep6  was  estimated  at  about  ten  thousand 
men,  the  entire  population  being  about  forty  thousand.  In 
view,  however,  of  the  history  of  Russian  aggression  in 
Central  Asia,  and  the  ultimate  victorious  issues  which  in- 
variably crowned  their  arms,  I,  for  one,  never  doubted  that 
the  Turcomans  would  ere  long  yield  or  come  to  terms. 

After  some  experience  of  Euchan,  and  especially  of  its 
caravanserai,  I  felt  the  strongest  desire  to  get  away  from 
it.  Of  all  the  wretched  localities  of  this  wretched  East, 
it  is  one  of  the  worst  I  have  been  in.  To  people  at  a 
distance,  the  petty  miseries  one  undergoes  in  such  a  place 
may  seem  more  laughable  than  otherwise ;  there  they  do 
not  at  all  tend  to  excite  hilarity  in  the  sufferer.    For  four 


E VERY-DAY  TROUBLES.  459 

days  and  nights  at  a  stretch  I  did  not  enjoy  ten  minutes' 
unbroken  rest.  All  day  long  one's  hands  were  in  perpetual 
motion,  trying  to  defend  one's  face  and  neck  against  the 
pertinacious  attacks  of  filthy  blue-bottles,  or  brushing 
ants,  beetles,  and  various  other  insects  off  one's  hands  and 
paper.  With  all  this  extra  movement,  each  word  I  wrote 
occupied  me  very  nearly  a  minute.  Dinner  involved  a 
perpetual  battle  with  creeping  things,  and  was  a  misery 
that  seldom  tempted  one's  appetite.  As  for  the  time  spent 
on  the  top  of  the  house,  lying  on  a  mat,  and  which  it  would 
be  a  mockery  to  call  bed-time,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say 
whether  it  or  the  daylight  hours  were  the  more  fraught 
with  torment.  Every  ten  minutes  it  was  necessary  to 
follow  the  example  of  the  people  lying  around,  and  to  rise 
and  shake  the  mat  furiously,  in  order  to  get  rid  for  a  brief 
space  of  the  crowds  of  gigantic  black  fleas  which  I  could 
hear  dancing  round,  and  still  more  distinctly  feel.  The 
impossibility  of  repose,  and  the  continued  irritation  pro- 
duced by  insects,  brought  on  a  kind  of  hectic  fever  which 
deprived  me  of  all  desire  to  eat.  All  night  long  three  or 
four  scores  of  donkeys  brayed  in  chorus;  vicious  horses 
screamed  and  quarrelled,  and  hundreds  of  jackals  and  dogs 
rivalled  each  other  in  making  night  hideous.  After  sunset 
the  human  inhabitants  of  the  caravanserai  mounted  to  the 
roof,  and  sat  there  in  scanty  garments,  smoking  their 
hxliouns,  and  talking  or  singing  until  long  after  midnight. 
What  Persian  singing  is — that,  at  any  rate,  of  the  class  to 
which  I  allude,  I  will  not  attempt  to  describe.  I  will  only 
say  that  it  is  not  more  conducive  to  sleep  than  are  the 
bacchanalian  shouts  of  a  belated  reveller  in  London,  seek- 
ing his  domicile.  To  these  annoyances  must  be  added  the 
perpetual  cheating,  lying,  and  stealing  of  servants  and  at- 
tendants. In  this  respect  one's  own  servants  are  the 
worst.    They  deem  it  a  sacred  duty  to  cheat  their  em- 


460  PERSIAN  DOMESTICS. 

ployer,  and  would  feel  ashamed  if,  at  the  end  of  the  day, 
they  could  not  boast  of  the  amount  of  which  they  had  re- 
lieved him.  As  long  as  a  certain  degree  of  impunity  attends 
their  peculation  they  may  be  passably  civil;  but  the 
moment  they  are  checked  their  insolence  is  unbounded, 
and  you  will  be  treated  like  a  dog  unless  you  take  the 
initiative  in  that  respect.  Unless  one  is  perpetually  on  the 
qui  vive  he  will  be  robbed  of  all  his  moveables ;  his  horses 
will  be  left  uncleaned  and  will  be  defrauded  of  half  their 
food,  the  servants  and  the  fodder  merchants  being  in  accord 
to  cheat,  and  divide  the  spoils  between  them.  Such  is  the 
Persian  domestic  as  I  have  known  him — an  exception 
having  never  come  under  my  notice,  and  I  have  little  doubt 
that  the  experience  of  most  Europeans  in  this  regard  is  the 
same.  With  the  combination  of  annoyances  which  I  have 
tried  to  describe,  it  need  not  be  wondered  at  that  I  con- 
sidered Kuchan  unpleasant.  The  only  tolerable  part  of 
one's  existence  there  is  for  a  little  before  and  a  little  after 
sunset.  A  cool  breeze  sets  in,  the  pests  of  the  day  have 
drawn  off,  and  the  night  relays  are  not  yet  to  the  fore. 
The  day  noises  have  died  away,  and  the  jackals  and  dogs 
have  not  commenced  their  mutual  salutations  or  recrimina- 
tions. At  that  time  it  is  delightful — doubly  so  from  the 
contrast  with  the  past  sultry  hours  and  the  coming  restless 
ones — to  wander  about  the  flat  roofs  that  stretch  around 
in  acres,  and  gaze  along  the  valley  of  the  upper  Atterek. 

All  around,  scattered  among  the  houses,  were  clumps  of 
mulberry  and  white  poplar,  the  pollard  willows,  with  their 
luxuriant  heads,  resembling  palmettos.  Dark  groves 
reached  away  to  the  river,  whose  murmur  was  heard 
from  afar  off.  We  heard  the  trickle  and  gush  of  the  waters 
around,  and  were  content  to  forget  that  they  flowed  through 
slimy  gutters,  and  that  many  a  dead  dog  and  cat  barred 
their  passage.     Toned  down  by  the  kindly  hand  of  evening, 


ON  THE  HOUSE  TOPS.  461 

the  mud  houses  lose  their  ugliness,   and  seem   so  many 
homes  of  quietness  and  peace,  nestling  in  the  midst  of  some 
vast  garden.    Like  other  Eastern  towns,  Kuchan,  seen  from 
without,  is  most  deceptive,  and  at  evening  hours  dons  a 
disguise  at  sad  variance  with  its  repulsive  interior.    But 
the  scenery  of  the  valley,  at  this  period  of  the  day,  is  of 
surpassing  beauty,  and  I  have  rarely  beheld  anything  so 
lovely  as  the  long  ridges  of  the  Akhal  Tekke  hills,  succeed- 
ing each  other  in  endless  sequence,  in  varying  tints  of 
ashy  grey,  blue,  and  rose,  till  they  die  out  in  the  golden 
haze  where  the  sun  has  gone  down.     The  rolling  expanse 
of  cornfield  and  pastujjb  sleeps  in  tranquillity,  and  here  and 
there  the  evening  light  glints  on  the  waters  of  the  Atterek, 
where  the  winding  of  that  river  brings  it  into  view.    Few 
could  dream    that    so    close   by,   across  those  fair-hued 
hills  and  waving  cornfields,  such  dire  carnage  was  prepar- 
ing.    As  one  walks  about  these  housetops,  he  is  sur- 
prised by  the  occurrence  of  the  narrow  streets  of  the  bazaar, 
running  like  dark  gashes  through  the  masses  of  houses. 
For  the  greater  portion  of  their  length  they  are  covered 
over  with  branches  laid  upon  slight  poles,  reaching  across 
the  street  so  as  to  exclude  the  sun's  rays.    The  abstracted 
star-gazer  risks  the  sudden  interruption  of  his  perambu- 
lations by  being  transferred  to  the  paving-stones  below. 
Gats  prowl  about  the  housetops  in  surprising  numbers,  and 
large  dogs  gaze  wistfully  down  the  square  openings,  which 
serve  as  chimneys,  into  the   evening  pilaff  pots  of  the 
dwellers,  or  at  the  long  sticks  of  gratefully-smelling  kebab. 
As  the  light  fades  away,  people  are  to  be  seen  laying  out 
their  beds  on  the  various   terraces ;  the  gleams   of    the 
kalioum  show  like  giant  fireflies,  and  the  tip-tap  of  the  police 
tambourine  is  to  be  heard  signalling  the  closing  of  the  shops. 
The  muezzim's  call  rises  on  the  night  air,  generally  imme- 
diately followed  by  the  prolonged  howling  of  a  couple  of 


463  A    TEKK&  MESSENGER. 

dogs.  This  is  the  usual  commencement  of  the  nightly 
concert ;  and  then  adieu  to  rest,  except  for  those  whom 
long  custom  has  rendered  impervious  alike  to  the  hubbub, 
and  to  the  bites  of  fleas  and  shab-gez. 

While  at  Euchan  I  had  a  most  interesting  interview 
with  a  Tekk6  Turcoman  who  had  come  direct  from  Geok 
Tepe,  and  had  taken  part  in  the  cavalry  skirmish  at  that 
place.  He  brought  letters  from  Makdum  Euli  Khan,  the 
son  of  the  late  Noor  Berdi  Khan,  who  had  succeeded  to  his 
father's  position  as  recognised  chief  of  the  united  Akhal 
Tekk6  tribes.  It  was  quite  an  unusual  thing  to  see  a 
Turcoman  of  any  description,  much  less  a  Tekk6,  at 
Kuchan,  the  nomads  being  quite  as  much  afraid  to  venture 
into  Kurdistan  as  the  Persians  are  to  trust  themselves 
within  the  limits  of  the  Akhal  Tekk6.  This  messenger  was 
a  fine  specimen  of  his  race.  He  was  about  twenty-five 
years  of  age,  with  piercing  eye  and  well-cut  aquiline  nose, 
together  with  a  mingled  expression  of  resolution  and  mild- 
ness not  every  day  to  be  found  in  the  physiognomies  of  the 
Ishmaelites  of  this  part  of  the  world.  He  was  but  poorly 
dressed  in  coarse  brown  homespun  wool,  but  his  linen  and 
white  sheepskin  cap  were  scrupulously  clean.  Immediately 
on  arriving  at  Kuchan  he  had  heard  of  the  presence  of  an 
Englishman  there,  and  had  at  once  come  to  my  caravan- 
serai. According  to  the  rules  in  force  with  regard  to 
Turcomans,  he  was  obliged  to  leave  his  sword  and  gun  out- 
side the  town.  A  short  ivory-handled  knife,  stuck  in  his 
white  sash,  was  his  only  weapon. 

The  engagement,  he  said,  took  place  a  few  miles  to  the 
north-west  of  Geok  Tep6,  near  Kiariz.  The  Russian  force 
consisted  of  four  thousand  cavalry,  with  four  light  guns, 
and  was  said  to  be  under  the  immediate  command  of 
Skobeleff.  The  Tekk6s,  who  were  of  equal  strength,  all 
cavalry,  but  without  guns,  were  taken  partly  by  surprise, 


NEWS  FROM  GEOK  TEPE.  463 

but  after  a  brisk  fight  succeeded  in  driving  off  their 
assailants,  who,  my  informant  averred,  lost  twenty  men  in 
killed  and  wounded.  He  spoke  in  so  modest  and  unassum- 
ing a  manner,  that  I  was  inclined  to  attach  every  faith  to 
what  he  said.  His  friends,  he  said,  lost  but  ten  men. 
Whether  the  Bussian  forces  were  a  reconnoitring  party, 
a  foraging  one,  or  both  combined,  he  could  not  say.  It 
was,  probably,  what  in  military  parlance  would  be  called 
a  minor  reconnaissance  in  force,  made  with  a  view  of 
getting  a  close  look  at  the  enemy's  works,  and,  if  possible, 
of  getting  him  to  deploy  all  or  the  greater  portion  of  his 
strength,  by  leading  him  to  imagine  that  the  attack  was  a 
real  one.  In  operations  like  those  of  this  Tekk6  campaign, 
a  force  of  four  thousand  cavalry  is  quite  enough  to  give 
reason  to  suppose  that  a  large  infantry  detachment  is 
behind  it.  Since  the  previous  battle,  nearly  twelve  months 
before,  the  entire  district  population,  including  women  and 
children,  had  been  incessantly  engaged  at  the  fortifications 
of  Geok  Tepe,  completing  and  strengthening  them.  My 
informant  said  that  the  works  were  thoroughly  finished, 
and  that  the  Turcomans  were  sanguine  of  success  in  resist- 
ing the  impending  assault.  The  greater  portion  of  the 
Bussian  army  had  crossed  over  to  the  north-eastern  slopes 
of  the  mountains,  and  was  encamped  in  and  about  Bami 
and  Beurma.  At  any  moment  after  their  commissariat 
and  transport  arrangements  should  have  been  completed, 
they  could  march  direct  upon  Geok  Tep6,  six  or  seven 
days'  journey.  The  reinforcements  from  Merv  were  but 
three  thousand  men,  according  to  the  account  now  re- 
ceived. 

By  a  curious  coincidence  the  new  chief  of  the  Akhal 
Tekke  bore  the  name  of  a  celebrated  Turcoman  of  the 
Goklan  tribe,  one  of  their  very  few  recorded  poets,  who 
flourished  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.    He 


464         THE   TRANS-CAUCASIAX  ARMY  CORPS. 

devoted  bis  life  and  talents  to  the  unification  of  his  race, 
and  died  about  1771,  in  despair  of  being  able  to  put  an  end 
to  their  internecine  quarrels.     My  informant  told  me  that 
there  were  at  Geok  Tep6  upwards  of  two  thousand  breech- 
loading  rifles  taken  from  the  Russians  on  various  occasions, 
and  this  bore  out  similar  statements  which  had  been  made 
to  me  from  other  independent  sources,  and  of  the  truth  of 
which  I  subsequently  had  ocular  demonstration.     Dourdi 
Bey,  the   Tekke  messenger,    said    his    countrymen    felt 
bitterly  that  the  Daghestan  and  Circassian  horsemen  in  the 
Russian  service,  all  Sunnite  Mussulmans  like  themselves, 
had  fought  so  fiercely  against  them.     Some  time  previously, 
a  great  authority  on  Central  Asian  matters  had  given  it  as 
his  opinion  that  the  Russians  were  trying  to  make  use  of 
Shiia  dislike  to  the  Sunnite  sect  by  employing  the  troops 
of  the  Trans-Caucasian  army  corps  in  the  Akhal  Tekke 
expedition.     This  was  a  natural  error,  for  the  inhabitants 
of  the  territory  referred  to,  owing  to  their  having  been  up 
to  a  comparatively  late  period  under  Persian  jurisdiction, 
were  to  a  certain  extent  professors  of  the  Shiia  doctrines  ; 
but  th6  inhabitants  of  the  Trans-Caucasus  who  compose 
the  army  corps  of  that  region  are,  almost  without  exception, 
Armenian  and  Georgian  Christians,  with  no  small  propor- 
tion of  pure  Russians  from  the  southern  European  provinces. 
The   Trans- Caucasian  corps  is  by  no  means  necessarily 
composed  of  natives  of  that  district.     The  cavalry  attached 
to  the  force  which  General  Lazareff  commanded,  save  one 
dragoon  regiment  and  a  detachment  of  Cossacks,  was  com- 
posed of  Mussulman  horsemen  from  the  Caucasus,  chiefly 
from  Daghestan,  which  lies  immediately  behind  and  to  the 
north-west  of  the  Caspian  port  of  Derbend.     These  horse- 
men were,  without  exception,  Sunnites.     They  seemed,  to  a 
very  large  extent,  to  have  forgotten  pre-existent  antipathies 
to  the  Giaours,  and  lived  on  terms  of  the  greatest  amity 


CIRCASSIANS  AND   TEKKES.  465 

with  their  Christian  fellow-soldiers.  The  truth  is  that  the 
Mussulmans  fighting  under  the  Bussian  flag  care  very  little 
about  Sunnism,  Shiism,  or  any  other  'ism.'  Their  atti- 
tude in  regard  to  the  Turcomans  is  very  similar  to  that  of 
the  Mahomedan  troops  of  British  India  brought  face  to  face 
with  their  co-religionists  of  Afghanistan  or  elsewhere. 
Dourdi  Bey  said  that  the  Tekkes  had  captured  several 
Daghestan  horsemen,  whose  lives  were  spared,  and  who 
were  comparatively  well  treated.  The  captives,  taking 
advantage  of  the  laxity  with  which  they  were  guarded,  took 
the  first  opportunity  to  escape  to  their  former  ranks,  to 
bear  arms  against  their  Sunnite  brethren.  '  Now,'  Dourdi 
Bey  said,  'the  Tekk6s,  while  willing,  if  possible,  to  take 
their  co-religionists  alive,  are  strongly  disinclined  to  be 
imposed  upon.  As  a  consequence,  all  Daghestan  and  Cir- 
cassian horsemen  taken  in  the  future  will  have  one  foot 
cut  off,  both  as  a  precaution  against  their  running  away 
and  as  a  security  that,  either  on  foot  or  on  horseback,  they 
will  not  again  fight  against  their  captors.'  The  Tekkes  had 
another  rule,  of  long  standing — that  any  Bussian  prisoners 
should  immediately  be  put  to  the  sword  in  case  of  an  attack. 
It  was  an  old  habit,  adapted  to  guarantee  the  secure  pos- 
session of  slaves— whether  captured  or  purchased — in  the 
case  of  the  Tekkes,  of  course  always  the  former.  I  own  that 
the  intelligence  about  the  measures  taken  to  prevent  people 
from  running  away  rendered  me  mightily  uneasy.  Cutting 
off  one's  foot,  even  with  all  the  appliances  of  modern  sur- 
gery, is  at  best  but  a  disagreeable  business.  Having  it 
hacked  off  with  a  Tekk6  sabre  must  be  terrific.  To  stand 
it,  a  stronger  constitution  would  be  required  even  than  to 
resist  the  assaults  of  the  shab-gez.  Some  examples  of  this 
method  of  disabling  captives,  in  danger  of  being  retaken, 
came  under  my  notice  early  in  the  preceding  year,  when  I 
was  at  Krasnavodsk.     The  Tekkes  had  made  a  successful 

VOL.  I.  H  H 


406     tekk£  barbarities.— telegraph  posts. 

raid  upon  a  large  village,  the  inhabitants  of  which  were 
under  Russian  protection.  The  place  was  sacked,  and 
the  people  carried  off.  The  marauders  were  closely  pur- 
sued, and,  finding  themselves  obliged  to  relinquish  their 
prey,  they  mutilated  all  the  prisoners  whom  they  were 
forced  to  abandon.  Their  track  was  strewn  with  persons  of 
both  sexes,  each  with  a  hand  or  foot  hacked  off.  I  suppose 
it  was  the  same  feeling  for  co-religionists  which  prevented 
them  from  killing  their  victims  outright,  that  was  exercised 
towards  the  Russian  Mussulman  soldiers  by  the  Tekkes. 

The  town  of  Askabad,  distant  a  long  day's  ride  from 
Euchan,  and  the  same  from  Geok  Tep6,  Dourdi  Bey  de- 
scribed as  entirely  deserted,  the  men  having  all  gone  to  the 
scene  of  war,  and  the  women  and  children  to  Merv.  Corn 
and  fodder  generally  were  to  be  procured  in  abundance,  no 
distress  having  apparently  been  caused  by  the  Russian 
advance.  A  telegraph,  which  had  been  constructed  no 
further  than  from  Tchikislar  to  Chatte,  had  been  repeatedly 
cut.  As  the  posts  were  of  iron,  but  little  permanent  damage 
had  been  done  to  the  line.  The  substitution  of  iron  for 
wooden  supports  showed  wisdom  on  the  part  of  the  Russians. 
Had  the  latter  been  used  they  would  have  formed  a  wel- 
come supply  of  fuel  to  the  Tekkes.  It  would  have  been  diffi- 
cult to  preserve  them  even  from  the  neutral  tribes,  who,  as 
a  rule,  are  woefully  in  want  of  firewood  out  on  the  plains. 
As  it  was,  the  raiders  could  do  but  little  more  than  pull 
down  some  hundreds  of  yards  of  wire,  overturn  a  few  posts, 
and  demolish  the  insulators,  even  should  this  latter  refine- 
ment occur  to  them.  With  the  posts  they  could  do  nothing. 
One  post  was  a  load  for  a  camel,  the  raiders  were  always 
on  horseback,  and  possessed  no  tools  for  breaking  them  up. 
Even  if  firing  were  at  hand,  heat  would  do  little  to  injure 
them.  Still,  the  continued  tearing  down  of  considerable 
lengths  of  wire  must  have  proved  a  great  embarrassment. 


TURCOMAN  MERCENARIES.  467 

Dourdi  Bey  said  that  he  had  continually  taken  part  in  the 
different  forays,  which  had  ranged  far  out  into  the  Krasna- 
vodsk  plain.  At  the  latter  place  there  was,  he  told  me,  no 
base  of  supplies,  and  no  overland  communication  with  the 
Bussian  head-quarters.  The  other  Turcoman  tribes  of  the 
lower  Atterek  retained  their  old  attitude  of  partial  neutrality. 
Only  two  thousand  men  in  all  had  been  induced  to  serve 
under  the  Bussian  standard.  *  Who  knows/  he  said,  '  but 
that  we  too  may  one  day  find  ourselves  in  the  same  posi- 
tion ?  We  should  not  be  the  only  Sunnite  Mussulmans 
fighting  under  the  Bussian  flag.'  These  words  were  truly 
prophetic. 

That  only  two  thousand  Turcoman  cavalry  should  at 
that  time  be  found  in  the  Bussian  service  was  rather  sin- 
gular, considering  the  high  pay  offered  and  the  intimate 
relations  necessarily  existing  between  the  Bussians  and  the 
tribes  camping  between  Ghatte  and  the  Caspian  shore. 
The  Goklans  had  been  at  best  neutral  since  the  beginning 
of  the  operations,  and  often  hostile ;  but  the  Jaffar  Bais 
nearer  the  coast  had  apparently  so  indentified  themselves 
with  the  invaders,  that,  considering  their,  large  numbers, 
it  was  surprising  that  a  greater  supply  of  recruits  had  not 
been  forthcoming.  Perhaps  the  reason  was  that  the 
Bussians  had  no  real  need  of  their  services,  but  took  a 
limited  number  with  them  to  show  that  the  entire  Turco- 
man population  was  not  against  them. 

Dourdi  Bey  stated  that  these  Yamud  horsemen  were 
considerably  more  feared  by  his  friends  than  were  the 
Bussian  cavalry.  Doubtless,  however,  this  was  said  more 
with  a  view  of  praising  his  own  race  than  of  indicating  the 
true  state  of  the  case.  Perhaps  the  most  curious  portion 
of  the  conversation  was  that  touching  the  hopes  and  ex- 
pectations of  his  countrymen  in  regard  to  the  impending 
struggle.    In  the  preceding  year,  he  said,  their  stand  at 

ih2 


468         TEKKE  HOPES  AND  DISAPPOINTMENTS. 

Geok  Tepe  had  been  inspirited  and  sustained  by  the  hope 
and  belief  that  the  English  troops  in  Afghanistan  would 
push  on  to  Herat,  and  thence  to  the  Turcoman  country, 
there  to  join  hands  with  the  Tekkes  against  the  common 
enemy.     That  hope  had  well  nigh  died  out,  though  the 
little  of  it  that  remained  helped  powerfully  to  encourage  the 
tribes  in  their  resistance.     One  thing  is,  I  believe,  pretty 
certain.     The  Afghan  war  exerted  an  influence  over  this 
Central  Asian  expedition,  the  extent  of  which  few  Europeans 
can  imagine.    For  my  own  part,  I  believe  it  to  have  been 
the  direct  cause  of  the  entire  undertaking  on  the  one  hand, 
and  of  the  obstinate  resistance  on  the  other.    Had  the 
Tekk6  Turcomans  found  themselves  absolutely  isolated  in 
their  oasis,  and  had  there  been  no  hope,  however  vague,  of 
assistance  from  outside,  I  believe  they  would  have  come  to 
terms  long  before  they  did.     The  pacification  of  Afghani- 
stan, and  the  withdrawal  of  the  British  troops  within  their 
own  limits,  subsequently  proved  to  be  a  death-blow  to  their 
hopes.     This  being  the  state  of  the  case,  it  became  rather 
awkward  for  me  to  present  myself.    I  recollected  that  to- 
wards the  close  of  the  Busso-Turkish  war,  life  among  the 
Osmanlis  was  very  disagreeable,  owing  to  the  universal  cry 
that  Turkey  had  been  led  into  war,   and  abandoned  by 
England  at  the  last  moment.    Though  the  case  of  the 
Turcomans  was  not  quite  similar,  I  could  not  help  thinking, 
and  I  had  grounds  for  doing  so,  that  they  were  allowed  by 
the  Government  of  Lord  Beaconsfield  to  base  their  hopes 
of  aid  on  something  more  substantial  than  their  own  illu- 
sions.    Certainly  while  there  still  existed  any  possibility 
of  coming  in  hostile  contact  with  Bussia  over  the  Cabul 
question,  no  better  policy  could  have  been  adopted  than 
that  of  allowing  the  Turcomans  to  hope  that  British  soldiers 
might  march  from  Herat  to  their  assistance.     And  I  feel 
i  onvinced  that  they  were  not  only  allowed  to  believe  it,  but 


RUSSIAN  OFFERS.— TEKK&  IDEAS.  469 

that  it  was  directly  told  them.  Finding  themselves  on 
the  horns  of  a  dilemma  in  which  they  must  either  fight 
alone  or  submit,  they  decided  to  try  the  former  alternative, 
and  then,  if  worsted,  to  turn  round  and  join  heartily  with 
Russia  in  any  movements  she  might  subsequently  make 
eastward. 

Dourdi  Bey,  the  substance  of  whose  conversation  I  am 
giving,  stated  that  his  countrymen  might  and  would  have 
been  of  vast  assistance  to  England  in  keeping  Russian 
troops  at  a  distance  from  Herat  and  other  important  points 
to  which  their  country  is  the  key ;  and  that,  in  the  hope 
that  their  services  might  be  utilised,  they  repelled  the 
brilliant  offers  made  them  by  Russia.  Among  these,  he 
said,  was  the  proposition  which  even  at  the  moment  of  his 
interview  was  still  being  held  out,  that  the  Tekk6s  should 
join  with  Russia  and  the  Afghans  in  making  a  descent 
upon  India  and  expelling  the  English  therefrom.  I  had 
previously  heard  vague  rumours  that  Russian  agents  were 
engaged  in  propagating  such  ideas  among  the  Turcomans, 
but  until  I  saw  Dourdi  Bey  I  had  no  opportunity  of  hearing 
these  rumours  confirmed  by  one  of  the  parties  concerned. 
That  the  Tekkes,  once  thoroughly  made  to  understand  how 
completely  isolated  they  would  be  in  a  conflict  with  Russia, 
would  probably  lose  heart  for  further  resistance,  and  be  all 
the  more  open  to  the  seductive  offers  and  promises  lavishly 
made,  the  present  situation  proves.  Even  at  the  time  the 
more  westerly  Tekkes  said,  '  How  can  we  hope  to  withstand 
the  arms  of  the  White  Czar,  when  even  the  Sultan  of  Stam- 
boul  himself  was  not  able  to  do  so  ? '  To  my  own  know- 
ledge, this  idea  was  rapidly  growing  among  the  Turco- 
mans, and  it  was  my  opinion  that  unless  pressed  for 
time  in  presence  of  circumstances  and  projects  which  as 
yet  belonged  to  the  dominion  of  theory,  Russia  would  be 
exceedingly  unwise  in  precipitating  matters.    *  Should  she 


470  MILITARY  POLICY. 

assail  the  Tekke  stronghold  now,  the  Turcomans  will  in- 
fallibly fight  desperately;   bat  should  Bhe  give  sufficient 
time,  after  occupying  the  borders  of  their  territory,  they 
will  gradually  awake  to  a  sense  of  their  true  position  and 
its  hopelessness ;  and  the  fiery  spirit  of  resistance  which 
now  fills  all  hearts  will  gradually,  but  surely,  die  out.    A 
temporising  policy  would  certainly  be  the  best  and  surest 
one  for  the  Russian  expeditionary  forces,  if  only  the  con- 
quest of  the  Akhal  Tekk6  were  in  view,  but  of  course  there 
may  be  other  motives,  of  a  farther-reaching  ken,  which  im- 
peratively   demand   prompt    and    decisive    action.      The 
disastrous  defeat  of  Lomakin  last  year,  with  its  consequent 
loss  of  prestige,  has,  of  course,  to  be  avenged,  and  I  should 
not  be  surprised  even  if  overtures  of  peace,  with  offerB  of 
submission  on  the  part  of  the  Turcomans,  were  rejected 
until  a  redeeming  Russian  victory  be  first  achieved.'     The 
preceding  lines  were  written  before  the  fall  of  Geok  Tep6, 
and  I  believe  that  they  then  perfectly  expressed  the  situa- 
tion.    The  withdrawal  from  Afghanistan  changed  the  whole 
course  of  events.     The  feeling  in  the  army  was  very  strong 
indeed  on  the  subject  when  I  was  last  in  the  Russian  camp ; 
and,  in  the  then  precarious  state  of  the  empire,  military 
feelings  and  desires  had  to  be  carefully  attended  to.     Did 
the  Tekkes  meditate  a  prolonged  and  indefinite  resistance, 
it  was  hard  to  guess  what  they  meant  to  do  should  their 
Gibraltar  at  Geok  Tep6  be  captured.    They  had  not  pre- 
pared any  similar  position  in  their  rear ;  and  Merv  was  a 
long  way  off.    I  wrote  to  the  Tekk6  chief  asking  his  per- 
mission to  come*  to  him,  at  the  same  time  taking  the 
precaution  to  assure  him  that  I  had  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  politics,  and  stating  precisely  the  capacity  in  which 
I  wished  to  visit  Geok  Tepe.     I  was  very  explicit  on  this 
point,  as  a  misunderstanding  might  lead  to  very  disagree- 
able results.    The  nature  of  a  newspaper  was  probably  not 


RUSSIA  AND  PERSIA.  471 

very  distinctly  understood  by  Makdum  Kuli  Khan  and  his 
followers ;  and  the  feeling  of  disappointment  arising  from 
the  non-receipt  of  expected  assistance  might,  in  the  hour  of 
defeat,  take  an  ugly  form  for  a  special  correspondent. 

Throughout  all  this  affair  Persia  maintained,  with  re- 
gard to  Bussia,  what  may  be  termed  a  benevolent  neu- 
trality—a very  benevolent  one.  Among  the  people  and 
officials  along  the  frontier  the  feeling  was  altogether  a 
pro-Russian  one,  and  they  hailed  with  delight  the  pro- 
bability of  having  the  Russians  ere  long  as  neighbours 
instead  of  their  former  troublesome  ones.  This  was  scarcely 
to  be  wondered  at ;  but  I  think  that  in  the  purely  official 
classes  the  feeling  in  favour  of  Russia  was  not  altogether 
to  be  traced  to  the  pleasure  of  seeing  them  take  the  place 
of  the  Tekkes.  The  number  of  articles  of  Russian  manu- 
facture in  the  hands  of  border  chiefs-  -articles  of  luxury  of 
great  value — showed  that  in  frontier  relations  the  Russians 
were  not  forgetful  of  those  little  social  amenities,  in  the 
shape  of  presents,  so  conducive  to  a  mutual  good  feeling. 
This  is  an  invariable  Russian  custom  under  similar  circum- 
stances ;  and  in  this  case  seems  to  have  attained  its  object. 
In  fact,  it  appeared  to  me  that  the  Russian  officials  charged 
with  conducting  frontier  policy  in  that  part  of  the  world 
thoroughly  understood  their  mission,  and  that  in  Central 
Asia  the  Russian  Government  had  the  game  all  in  its  own 
hands.  So  *  benevolent '  was  Persia's  neutrality  that,  as 
far  as  she  was  concerned,  Russia  might  do  pretty  much 
what  she  pleased  along  the  frontier  in  dealing  with  the 
Tekkes,  and  still  meet  with  every  facility  she  might  stand 
in  need  of  in  so  doing. 

I  have  already  mentioned  an  interview  which  I  had 
with  the  virtual  Prime  Minister  of  Persia,  the  Sipah 
Salar  Aazem,  during  which  some  remarks  were  made 
about  the  Russo-Tekk6  question.    I  asked  his  Highness 


473  OFF  TO  MESHED. 

whether  it  were  intended  altogether  to  abandon  the  Akhal 
Tekkes  daring  the  impending  struggle,  in  view  of  the  fact 
that  Persia  still  laid  claim  not  only  to  their  territory  but  to 
the  Merv  district.  '  Not  exactly/  he  replied.  *  We  shall  of 
course  always  do  what  can  be  done  in  the  matter.9  That, 
however,  seemed  to  be  absolutely  nothing.  I  was  much 
inclined  to  believe  what  I  had  on  more  than  one  occasion 
heard  hinted  at,  that  in  all  this  Akhal  Tekke  and  Merv  affair 
there  was  a  secret  understanding  between  the  Bussian  and 
Persian  Governments  ;  and  this  understanding  may  possibly 
yet  lead  to  more  important  results  than  the  annihilation 
of  a  handful  of  border  barbarians. 

The  illness  to  which  I  have  already  alluded  had  not  only 
detained  me  in  Euchan,  but  had  materially  altered  my 
plans.  Before  attempting  the  trip  to  Merv,  I  found  it 
necessary  to  pay  a  visit  to  Meshed,  hoping  to  find  some 
needed  medical  assistance  there,  and  accordingly,  after  a 
three  weeks'  sojourn  in  Euchan,  I  abandoned  the  idea  of 
taking  the  road  to  Askabad,  and  on  the  morning  of  August  10 
I  started  for  the  sacred  city  of  Persia.  I  was  much  pulled 
down  by  my  fever,  and  as  I  buckled  on  my  revolver-belt 
preparatory  to  starting,  my  Tekke  friend,  who  had  nursed 
me  so  well,  smiled  pityingly.  He  evidently  thought  I  was 
in  little  trim  for  wielding  arms  of  any  sort,  considering  my 
worn  frame  and  tottering  gait.  Still  I  managed  to  get  on 
horseback,  though  I  could  only  bear  the  slowest  pace  of 
the  animal.  The  journey  to  Meshed,  usually  made  by  foot- 
passengers  in  two  or  two-and-a-half  days,  occupied  me  no 
less  that  seven.  Even  so  I  was  glad  to  leave  Euchan,  with 
its  horrid  hovels  and  insect  plagues,  and  to  be  on  the  road 
to  more  promising  quarters. 


THE  ROAD    TO  MESHED.  473 


CHAPTEE  XXVm. 

EUCHAN  TO  MESHED. 

TheMeehed  road — Kurdish  customs — A  thievish  chief — Rapacious  officials 
— Persian  building — Fruits — Pitfalls  in  the  roads — Meshed — A  magni- 
ficent prospect  —  The  Grand  Boulevard  of  Meshed — Lack  of  public 
spirit — Russian  commerce — Strange  nationalities — Persian  attendants — 
Antique  coins — A  Persian  house — Fountains  and  water  supply — Brinks  of 
the  country — Population  of  Meshed — Turcoman  horses. 

Weak  as  I  was,  I  endeavoured  to  keep  a  note  of  the  road 
along  which  I  was  travelling,  and  which,  though  little 
known,  is  of  the  highest  importance  in  relation  to 
Bussian  designs  in  Central  Asia.  The  natural  highway 
to  Meshed  from  Euchan  is  excellently  suited  for  the 
passage  of  an  army;  corn,  wood,  and  water  abound 
along  its  whole  length.  It  would  be  the  easiest  matter  for 
the  Russians,  now  that  they  are  masters  of  Geok  Tep6,  to 
cross  the  Akhal  Tekke  mountains,  and  advance,  without 
resistance  from  the  timid  inhabitants,  to  Meshed,  which 
has  more  than  once  already  served  as  a  base  of  operations 
against  Herat.  On  the  maps  in  my  possession  there  is  a 
strange  confusion,  intentionally  or  otherwise,  of  the  names 
of  places  along  this  important  road.  At  least  the  names 
given  by  the  inhabitants  are  quite  different  from  those 
printed  on  the  maps.  The  first  village  after  leaving  Euchan, 
and  about  four  farsakhs  or  fourteen  miles  distant,  *o  Jaffara- 
bad.  Six  farsakhs  further  on  comes  Seyidan,  ana  three 
and  a  half  further  Gunabad.  Then  comes  Chenaram,  and 
afterwards  Easimabad,  the  only  large  place  along  the  whole 


474  A  MILITARY  COLONY.— TREACHERY. 

road,  and  situated  close  to  the  ruins  of  Toos,  the  former 
capital  of  Khorassan,  now  only  a  heap  of  earth  mounds. 
The  farsakh  is  the  ancient  parassang  of  classic  writers,  and 
is  about  three-and-a-half  English  miles.  All  the  before- 
mentioned  places  are  villages  of  the  usual  type. 

The  road  to  Meshed  is  commonly  said  to  be  very 
dangerous ;  the  trouble,  however,  does  not  arise  from 
marauders,  but  from  the  peasants  along  the  road,  who  eke 
out  their  ordinary  gains  by  turning  an  occasional  hand  to 
robbery.  The  people  of  the  mountains  are  of  Kurdish  and 
Afghan  descent.  Their  ancestors  were  planted  here  by 
Shah  Abass  and  Nadir  Shah  as  military  colonists  to  keep 
guard  against  the  Turcomans.  They  are  a  far  braver  and 
more  manly  race  than  the  Persians,  but  on  the  score  of  * 
honesty  can  claim  no  superiority  over  the  Tekkds  them- 
selves. In  fact,  their  plundering  talents  are  developed  in 
more  numerous  ways,  for  a  Turcoman  will  only  rob  when 
in  the  saddle  for  a  foray,  while  a  Kurd  is  as  ready  to  filch 
any  article  he  can  find  lying  unwatched  as  to  rob  on  the 
high  road.  Of  course  they  do  not  carry  off  captives  like 
the  nomads,  but  woe  betide  the  unfortunate  traders  who 
venture  among  these  mountains  alone  or  in  small  bodies. 
They  are  nearly  sure  to  be  stripped  or  maltreated.  Indeed, 
it  is  in  this  manner  that  the  Kurdish  villages  usually  procure 
their  supplies  of  groceries  and  cloth.  A  dervish  or  a 
beggar  will  have  his  wants  cheerfully  supplied,  and  a 
penniless  traveller  will  find  the  muleteers  or  others  whom 
he  may  encounter  both  friendly  and  good-natured,  but  if 
he  be  suspected  of  having  anything  worth  stealing  he  is 
regarded  as  fair  game.  This  state  of  things  is  common  in 
all  the  wilder  portions  of  the  East,  from  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean  to  the  banks  of  the  Murgab.  An  anecdote  will 
illustrate  the  ways  of  these  Kurds.  At  my  stopping-place 
for  the  night  an  old  white-bearded  chief  whose  rank  entitled 


A  RUSE.— AGRICULTURAL   WEALTH.  475 

him  to  the  privilege,  came  to  call  on  me  in  my  tent.  I 
gravely  motioned  him  to  a  place  on  the  edge  of  my  carpet ; 
he  gave  the  salutation  of  peace,  and  joined  both  hands,  the 
regular  mode  of  expressing  '  at  your  service.'  His  quick 
eye  meantime  made  a  rapid  survey  of  my  property.  I 
took  pains  to  show  him  the  mechanism  of  my  revolver, 
while  my  sword  lay  conspicuously  on  a  leopard-skin  that 
served  me  for  a  bed.  Under  the  appearance  of  looking  for 
something  in  my  saddle  bags  I  turned  them  inside  out  before 
him,  displaying  a  large  amount  of  papers,  and  a  few  shirts, 
but  nothing  that  could  excite  Kurdish  cupidity.  Satisfied 
that  there  was  little  worth  stealing  he  ultimately  took  his 
leave. 

Harvesting  was  going  on  briskly  on  both  sides  of  the 
road  as  I  made  my  way  slowly  along.  The  grain  is  win- 
nowed by  tossing  it  on  broad  shovels  and  letting  the  chaff 
blow  away,  and  numbers  of  peasants  were  engaged  in  the 
process.  The  country  is  literally  teeming  with  agricultural 
wealth.  Corn  seems  going  to  waste  for  want  of  a  market ; 
flocks  and  herds  of  hump-backed  zebus  cover  the  plain,  and 
the  long  plantations  of  mulberry  trees  bespeak  the  extent 
to  which  silk  cultivation  is  carried  on.  The  regular  taxation 
exacted  by  the  Government  is  by  no  means  heavy,  yet  the 
peasants  live  in  abject  poverty.  A  platter  of  rice  pilaff, 
seasoned  at  times,  in  the  richer  houses,  with  a  few  boiled 
plums  or  a  chicken  boiled  to  rags,  appears  to  be  the  highest 
luxury  of  these  people's  existence.  At  Jaffarabad  the  food  to 
be  had  were  only  round  cakes  so  stale  as  to  be  like 
stones,  with  ill-smelling  goat's  milk  and  worse  cheese.  I 
managed  to  get  half  a  dozen  eggs,  which  I  swallowed  raw, 
as  the  state  of  my  stomach  would  not  allow  of  my  attempt- 
ing the  other  viands.  The  only  explanation  of  the  manner 
in  which  the  surplus  wealth  of  this  district  is  absorbed  lies 
in  the  existence  of  a  crowd  of  greedy  and  useless  officials, 


476        TAXATION.— DOMESTIC  ARCHITECTURE. 

great  and  small,  who  live  by  extorting  perquisites  from  the 
farmers.  Prom  the  Governor  of  a  province  down  to  the 
lowest  subaltern  they  are  all  alike,  and  gratuities  are  exacted 
in  a  thousand  shapes,  until  the  peasants  are  left  bare  of 
all  but  the  merest  necessaries.  Persians  who  affect  Euro- 
pean culture  will  tell  you  that  after  a  study  of  the  social 
system  of  Europe  they  feel  convinced  that  it  does  not  differ 
in  this  respect  materially  from  their  own,  and  that  the 
only  difference  is  in  the  form  of  collection  of  the  imposts. 
One  must  pity  the  people  whose  enlightened  classes  can 
thus  conveniently  dispose  of  such  a  question. 

The  last  six  days  of  my  journey  differed  in  no  material 
point  from  the  first.  All  the  villages  were  similar  collections 
of  cubical  mud  houses,  with  flat  domes  for  roofs,  huddled 
together  without  any  streets,  like  so  many  wasps'  nests. 
The  construction  of  these  domes  is  worth  mentioning.  No 
scaffolding  of  any  kind  is  used  in  their  erection.  The 
builder  squats  on  the  edge  of  the  thick  square  walls  when 
the  latter  have  reached  the  required  height  and  lays  a  circle 
of  flat  unburned  brick  on  the  top  of  the  square,  using 
semi-liquid  clay  as  cement.  The  work  is  then  carried 
up  in  courses  of  the  same  material,  each  course  pro- 
jecting a  little  inwards  until  at  the  top,  when  the  eye  of 
the  dome  is  closed  by  wedging  in  some  slabs  as  a  key.  The 
outside  is  then  smoothly  plastered  with  loam.  As  the 
lower  courses  set  rapidly,  the  builder  can  rest  on  them  as 
he  comes  to  the  upper  part  of  his  work,  and  the  roofs  thus 
built  are  both  strong  and  waterproof.  This  system  of 
dome  building  is  used  for  buildings  of  greater  importance 
and  more  costly  materials  than  peasants'  houses.  The  roof 
of  the  Persian  Cossack  stables  at  Teheran  is  constructed  in 
the  same  fashion. 

Within  a  day's  journey  of  Meshed  the  cornfields  began 
to  be  replaced  by  large  melon  and  cucumber  patches.    In 


MARKET  GARDENS.— PITFALLS.  477 

some  places  the  tendrils  of  the  plants  are  trained  on  slight 
trellis  frames,  so  that  their  broad  leaves  form  summer-houses 
to  protect  the  watchmen  of  the  gardens  from  the  sun. 
Few  prettier  sights  had  met  my  eye  than  these  fresh  green 
bowers,  with  their  broad  yellow  flowers,  after  the  dusty  and 
parched  stubble  fields  through  which  I  had  been  passing. 
Orchards,  too,  are  found  at  intervals,  from  which  the  markets 
are  abundantly  supplied  with  grapes,  peaches,  apricots,  and 
plums,  all  of  delicious  flavour.  The  dark  purple  plums  are 
often  as  large  as  good-sized  peaches.  The  ground  is  cut 
up  with  irrigating  ditches  in  every  direction,  both  open  and 
covered  with  earth.  The  latter  (kanots),  when  old,  are  a 
source  of  constant  danger  to  travellers.  In  making  them, 
shafts  are  sunk  at  intervals  of  from  thirty  to  forty  yards,  like 
wells,  and  the  sand  and  gravel  from  these  pits  is  hauled  to  the 
surface  in  buckets  and  piled  around  the  mouth  of  the  pit 
in  an  annular  heap.  During  the  rains  these  heaps  are 
gradually  washed  into  the  channels  below  and  swept  away 
by  the  current,  so  that  nothing  is  left  to  protect  or  point 
out  the  openings  of  the  shafts,  which,  moreover,  are  annually 
widened  by  the  rains,  until  they  are  sometimes  ten  or  even 
fifteen  feet  across,  with  yawning  edges,  and  going  down  to 
a  sheer  depth  of  sixty  or  seventy  feet.  These  pitfalls  occur 
often  in  the  most  frequented  tracks,  where  thousands  of  men 
and  animals  are  continually  passing,  and  that,  too,  frequently 
by  night,  according  to  the  already  described  peculiarity  of 
Persian  travellers.  To  make  the  danger  greater  the 
mouths  are  often  completely  hidden  by  undergrowth  and 
by  the  luxuriant  masses  of  creeping  berberis,  which  is 
common  here.  I  have  often  seen  skeletons  of  camels,  with 
parts  of  the  skin  attached,  wedged  eight  or  ten  feet  down  in 
these  chasms,  the  animals  having  evidently  fallen  in  and 
been  left  to  perish  there.  On  several  occasions  I  should 
have  met  with  a  similar  fate  but  for  the  instinct  of  my  horse, 


478  FIRST  GLIMPSE  OF  MESHED9. 

whose  look-out  for  such  snares  was  often  keener  than  his 
rider's.  I  have  little  doubt  but  hundreds  of  belated 
travellers  must  yearly  find  their  graves  in  these  horrible 
gulfs,  which  yawn  in  every  direction  and  certainly  do  not 
add  to  the  comfort  or  safety  of  travelling  in  Ehorassan. 

It  was  late  on  a  sultry  afternoon,  the  seventh  day  after 
my  departure  from  Kuchan,  that  I  came  at  last  within  sight 
of  the  Holy  City  of  Shiia  devotion.  In  front,  was  a  dark 
wide  grove  of  tall  trees,  behind  which  the  ochre-tinted 
battlements  and  ramparts  of  the  town  peered,  while  high 
over  all  towered  the  gilt  dome  and  minarets  of  the  mosque 
of  the  great  Imam  Biza.  I  had  long  learned  to  look  with 
distrust  on  the  external  appearance  of  Eastern  towns,  so 
little  in  accord  with  their  interiors,  but  I  could  not  help  being 
struck  with  admiration  as  I  caught  my  first  glimpse  of 
Meshed.  Except  Stamboul,  as  viewed  from  the  Bosphorus, 
nothing  I  had  seen  in  the  East  could  compare  with  it  in 
beauty,  and  I  could  well  realise  the  effect  it  must  produce 
on  the  imaginations  of  the  pilgrims  who  had  toiled  across 
the  long  dusty  roads  for,  it  may  be,  months  together,  when 
the  sacred  city  reveals  its  glories  to  their  devout  gaze.  In 
the  burning  sun  the  golden  dome  seemed  to  cast  out  rays 
of  dazzling  light,  and  the  roofs  of  the  adjoining  minars  shone 
like  brilliant  beacons.  Meshed  is  par  excellence  the  Holy 
City  of  the  Shiite  Mahomedans,  scarcely  yielding  in  sup- 
posed sanctity  to  Mecca  itself.  Its  position  in  the  Shah's 
dominions  tends  to  exalt  its  importance  for  Persians  over 
Kerbella  and  Kufa,  the  two  other  great  centres  of  Shiite 
Mahomedanism,  and  the  resting-places  respectively  of 
Hussein  and  of  All  himself.  The  latter  cities  are  in 
Turkish  territory,  and  thqugh  venerated  by  both  sects  of 
Mahomedans,  yet  national  prejudices  make  the  majority  of 
Shiite  pilgrims  select  Meshed  as  their  favourite  resort. 
Apart  from  its  importance  as  a  religious  centre,  Meshed 


WALLS  OF  MESHED.  479 

is  an  important  military  post.  Its  proximity  to  the  frontier 
and  the  roads  which  meet  at  it  make  it  a  strategical  point 
deserving  of  high  consideration  from  the  Shah's  Govern- 
ment. Accordingly,  the  fortifications,  though  only  of  earth, 
are  kept  in  good  repair,  and  when  I  visited  it  a  force  of 
about  a  thousand  men  was  encamped  outside  its  walls  as  a 
protection  against  the  Turcomans.  The  ramparts  are 
flanked  with  towers  at  intervals  of  every  fifty  yards,  and  an 
interior  gallery  is  constructed  in  the  thickness  of  the  wall 
near  the  base,  from  which  a  second  line  of  fire  could  be  poured 
into  an  assailing  force.  A  second  and  lower  line  of  defence, 
a  fau88e~braye  in  military  terms,  seems  to  have  formerly 
existed  beyond  and  around  the  present  fortifications,  but  it 
is  now  completely  ruined.  The  country  around  is  wild  and 
uncultivated,  and  offers  little  cover,  and  altogether  the  place 
is  quite  strong  enough  to  resist  any  attack  the  nomads 
might  make,  though  a  regular  European  battering  train 
could  reduce  it  in  a  few  hours.  By  some  strange  oversight 
on  the  part  of  the  military  engineers  who  constructed  these 
fortifications,  np  provision  has  been  made  for  enfilading  the 
ditches,  and  thus  an  enemy  who  once  effected  a  lodgment 
under  the  curtain  wall  would  be  perfectly  safe  from  the  fire 
of  the  garrison. 

Entering  by  the  western  gate  I  found  myself  in  a  broad 
thoroughfare,  down  the  centre  of  which  flowed  a  canal,  with 
kerbing  of  brick  flush  with  the  roadway.  The  canal  was 
eight  or  nine  feet  wide  and  about  five  deep,  but  had  only  a 
few  inches  of  filthy  water  at  the  bottom.  In  fact,  it  serves 
as  an  open  sewer  to  convey  the  refuse  water  from  the 
various  dyeing  establishments  along  its  banks,  and  at  times 
is  entirely  dry,  when  the  water  is  drawn  off  for  irrigation 
outside.  A  noble  row  of  old  plane-trees  with  large  mulberry 
trees  intermixed  runs  along  one  bank,  and  in  places  spring 
from    the   bed    itself,  nearly    choking  up   the    channel. 


4<to  STREETS  OF  MESHED. 

Occasionally  the  mulberries  grow  horizontally  across  the 
channel,   forming    natural  bridges,  and  in  other    places 
planks  and  brick  arches  give  passage  from  side  to  side. 
The  street  itself  is  about  two  hundred  feet  wide,  lined  on 
both  sides  with  shops,  those  on  the  right  of  the  stream 
being  chiefly  devoted  to  the  sale  of  vegetables  and  fruit. 
Here  were  huge  piles  of  cucumbers,  water  melons,  vegetable 
marrows  and  potatoes,  the  last  especially  good.    There 
was  also  a  superabundance  of  peaches,  plums,  and  grapes, 
the    last,   of  the    long  muscatel  variety,  and    excellent. 
With    its    magnificent    trees    and  water    supply,    which 
could  easily  be  kept  unpolluted,  it  would  not  be  difficult  to 
convert  this  street  into  a  boulevard  of  surpassing  grandeur, 
with  a  picturesque  gate-tower  like  those  of  Teheran   at 
one  end,  and  the  splendid  Mosque  of  Imam  Biza  at  the 
other.    Except  this  and  a  few  other  bazaar  streets,  the 
town  is  a  mere  accumulation  of  mud  huts  piled  together 
in  such  disorder  that  a  stranger  wonders  how  many  of 
the  inhabitants  can  get  into  their  abodes.     These  house- 
masses  are  traversed  by  narrow  galleries  covered  with  a  rude 
thatch  of  reeds  and  earth  clots,  and  often  with  no  other  light 
than  that  which  enters  at  the  ends.     No  doors  nor  windows 
open  on  these  dismal  alleys,  which   are  cumbered  with 
rubbish  heaps  and  cut  up  with  ruts  in  every  direction,  while 
litters  of  puppies  lie  around  on  all  sides  and  are  constantly 
getting  under  the  feet  of  the  wayfarer  as  he  stumbles  along' 
in  the  dim  light.     At  times  the  rubbish  heaps  rise  so  high  as 
to  bring  his  head  into  sudden  contact  with  the  roof  above, 
with  the  result  of  bringing  down  showers  of  clay  and  dust. 
One  could  almost  touch  both  sides  of  some  of  these  passage 
at  the  same   time  by  extending  his  arms.     From  tb^ 
covered  alleys  one  emerges  into  narrow  open  lanes  runi& 
between    blank    walls    relieved    occasionally   by  a  sm. 
wooden  door,  and  sometimes  opening  into  irregular  spaa* 


PERSIAN  BOUSES— BAZAAR.  481 

of  waste  ground  filled  with  heaps  of  debris  and  offal  of  all 
kinds.  Though  extremely  particular  about  the  interior  of 
their  houses,  with  their  white  walls,  fountains,  tanks,  and 
carpets,  the  Persians  are  utterly  indifferent  to  the  con- 
dition of  their  streets,  or  to  the  vile  smells  occasioned  by 
the  wanton  deposit  of  filth  in  them.  They  will  leave  their 
shoes  or  slippers  at  the  house  door,  to  avoid  soiling  the 
carpets,  but  they  never  dream  of  removing  a  dung-heap 
from  before  their  very  doors.  The  same  spirit  indeed 
pervades  the  whole  national  character.  Private  individual 
interests  are  closely  attended  to ;  but  whatever  requires 
public  combination  for  the  common  good  is  invariably  left 
unattempted.  The  Persian  is  contented  to  wait  for  some 
energetic  Shah  or  Vizier  to  arise,  who  may,  like  Abass  the 
Great  or  Nadir,  be  of  a  constructive  turn  of  mind,  to  erect 
his  caravanserais,  dig  his  canals,  and  build  his  roads.  For 
the  community  or  private  individuals  to  attempt  such  works 
is  a  thing  unheard  of. 

The  activity  displayed  in  the  streets  of  the  bazaar  is  in 

striking  contrast  to  the  stillness  which  marks  the  other 

portions  of  the  city.    In  those  narrow  lanes  you  seldom 

meet  a  living  thing  except  dogs  or  cats,  while  the  bazaar  is 

thronged  with  a  busy  and  motley  throng.    Bussia  completely 

controls  the  trade  in  European  goods,  except  perhaps  in 

mgar,  a  little  of  which  comes  from  Marseilles.    Cloths, 

linen  and  cotton  goods,  porcelain,  glass,  trays,  lamps,  and 

other  European  manufactured   articles  are  all  Bussian. 

Tea  comes  from  Astrakan  to  Teheran  or  Asterabad,  and 

thence  to  Meshed.      It  is,  however,  in  the  people  that 

'rong  it  that  this  bazaar  of  Meshed  differs  most  from  that 

the  other  Persian  towns  I  have  seen.      Hadjis  and 

.1  chants  from  all  the  neighbouring  countries  elbow  the 

live  Persians,  and  each  nationality  is  easily  distinguished. 

<ie  Persian  merchant  is  generally  a  clean  well-dressed  man 

vol.  1.  11 


4&2  IS  THE  BAZAAR. 

with  white  silk  turban,  flowing  robes,  and  long  beard,  unlike 
the  officials,  who  generally  affect  European  dress.  This  tall 
slight  man,  with  delicately  cat  features,  large  dark  eyes, 
and  stately  pace,  is  an  Arab  merchant  from  Baghdad.  These 
two  odd-looking  little  old  men,  with  mouse-coloured  faces, 
and  red  mark  between  the  eyes,  clad  in  dark  monkish- 
looking  gowns  and  sandals,  are  traders  from  Bombay,  and, 
for  the  moment,  the  guests  of  Abass  Khan,  the  native 
British  agent  here.  They  halt  and  salute  me  elaborately 
as  I  pass.  Half  a  dozen  Merv  Turcomans,  with  calm, 
resolute  air,  and  keeping  well  together,  come  next,  with 
their  usual  sauntering  step  and  upright  carriage.  They 
look  as  if  they  were  taking  stock  of  the  goods  displayed 
around  them,  and  were  meditating  how  best  to  effect  a 
wholesale  sweep  of  them.  A  little  further  on  we  meet  some 
half-dozen  jaunty-looking,  handsome  young  men  in  dark 
tunics  and  sombre-tinted  turbans,  one  end  of  the  cloth 
stuck  up  cockade-wise  in  front,  the  other  hanging  upon 
the  neck.  One  of  them  carries  a  small  circular  shield  of 
iron,  embossed,  inlaid,  engraved,  and  ornamented  as  the 
shield  of  Achilles.  Held  by  the  scabbard,  and  thrown 
carelessly  over  his  shoulder,  is  an  exceedingly  curved  Indian- 
looking  sword,  with  wonderfully  small,  bulbous  iron  handle. 
He  is  an  Afghan  chief,  accompanied  by  his  friends.  I  am 
not  acquainted  with  them,  but  they  bow  and  smile  pleasantly 
as  they  recognise  my  nationality.  I  remarked  the  same 
thing  of  all  the  Afghans  here,  and  the  town  was  full  of 
them,  both  traders  and  refugees.  They  ail  invariably 
smiled  and  saluted  me.  At  Euchan  it  was  the  same  thing. 
I  have  met  many  of  them,  from  Cabul,  Candahar,  Jellalabad, 
and  Herat.  Some  of  them  had  taken  an  active  part  in 
the  late  war,  but  none  seemed  to  bear  the  slightest  ill-will 
towards  Englishmen  on  that  account.  With  me  they  were 
most  friendly.    Many,  in  view  of  the  occupation  of  their 


A  PERSIAN  OFFICIAL— RESPECTABILITY.       483 

» 
native  country,  spoke  of  themselves  as  already  British 

subjects.  This  surprised  me  all  the  more  that  it  was  so 
completely  at  variance  with  what  I  heard  every  day  about 
Afghan  fierceness  of  temper,  and  the  wild  love  of  indepen- 
dence which  characterises  them. 

The  throng  of  passers-by  give  way  to  right  and  left,  and 
a  man  appears,  dressed  in  a  garment  half  frock-coat,  half- 
tunic,  of  light,  snuff-coloured  material.  He  wears  black 
trousers  of  European  cut,  rather  short,  and  shoes  which 
allow  of  a  view  of  his  white  stockings.  On  his  head  is  the 
usual  Persian  black  lambswool  tiara.  He  keeps  one  hand 
upQn  the  other,  in  front  of  him,  as  if  he  were  handcuffed, 
and  during  his  very  slow  walk  sways  his  shoulders  to  and 
fro.  Immediately  behind  him  ia  a  man  bearing  a  large 
silver  water-pipe ;  around  him  is  a  small  crowd  of  persons 
somewhat  similarly  attired,  and  walking  as  nearly  as  pos- 
sible like  him.  These  are  a  Persian  official  and  his  atten- 
dants. He  keeps  his  eyes  on  the  ground,  lifting  them  but 
occasionally,  and  affects  an  air  of  profound  thought  and 
pre-occupation,  while  probably  he  has  not  two  ideas  in  his 
head.  He  is  perhaps  going  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  Governor 
or  some  other  high  official.  On  such  occasions  the  entire 
household  turn  out  in  their  best  array,  and  the  silver  water- 
pipe  is  as  indispensable  as  the  mace  at  a  municipal  state 
ceremony.  In  Persia,  no  one  with  any  pretence  to  respec- 
tability would  dream  of  stirring  outside  the  door  without  at 
least  four  men  walking  behind  him.  My  appearance  with  a 
solitary  attendant—  a  factotum  who  looked  after  myself  and 
my  horses,  and  acted  as  cook  into  the  bargain — created 
quite  a  scandal.  The  British  agent  was  so  terrified  at  the 
possible  loss  of  national  prestige  that  might  accrue  there- 
from that  he  actually  forced  on  me  one  of  the  soldiers  who 
mounted  guard  at  his  residence.  At  Teheran  these  absurd 
notions  are  beginning  to  die  out,  in  consequence  of  the  intro- 

n2 


484  MIXED  COINAGE— ANTIQUES. 

duction  of  Western  ideas.  An  ordinary  individual  "may, 
without  loss  of  self-respect,  walk  unaccompanied  down  the 
principal  streets.  It  is  only  on  occasions  of  ceremony  that  a 
display  of  attendants  is  called  for.  The  old-fashioned 
Persians,  however,  adhere  still  to  their  national  customs, 
especially  in  the  remote  districts  like  Meshed. 

The  variety  of  coins  current  in  this  place  would  delight 
the  heart  of  a  numismatist.    Besides  the  concourse  of 
pilgrims  who  bring  specimens  of  every  Asiatic  mint  with 
them,  '  finds '  of  old  coins  are  frequently  made  in  the  ruins 
with  which  the  whole  country  is  filled,  and  contribute  to  the 
variety  of  the  currency.     Ancient  Greek  and  Persian  coins 
can  be  had  here  for  little  more  than  their  bullion  value,  in 
abundance.    I  have  little  doubt  but  that  rare  and  valuable 
coins  might  be  found  in  the  Meshed  bazaar  by  a  skilled  numis- 
matist.    A  friend  of  mine  long  resident  in  Persia  told  me 
that  a  gold  coin  of  the  time  of  Alexander  might  be  found 
here,  for  a  specimen  of  which  twelve  hundred  pounds  has 
been  paid  in  Europe.    It  is  about  the  size  of  half  a  crown, 
but  only  an  expert  could  venture  to  purchase  a  specimen,  as 
it  has   been  imitated  closely  by  the  Jewish  dealers  of 
Baghdad.     The  great  advantage  one  would  have  in  buying 
coins  in  such  a  place  as  Meshed  is  that  there  are  no  forgeries 
of  rare  pieces  attempted  there  for  want  of  a  market,  so  one 
is  pretty  sure  that  an  apparently  old  piece  is  really  such. 
The  natives  care  nothing  for  old  coins,  though  they  readily 
buy  antique  jewellery,  and,  in  consequence,  there  is  an 
immense  quantity  of  spurious  relics,  in  the  shape  of  cameos 
and  intaglios  especially  hawked  about  the  bazaar,  but  coins 
are  hardly  saleable  for  more  than  their  bullion  value,  and  so 
are  not  imitated.    I  bought  for  two  krans  a  Greek  coin  of 
the  Bactrian  kingdom,  I  think,  as  large  as  a  shilling,  with  a 
well-executed  head  of  Hermes  on  one  side  and  a  full-length 
figure  of  Hercules  with  his  club,  and  a  Greek  inscription,  on 


A  MESHED  INTERIOR.  485 

the  obverse.  Another  curious  thing  I  noticed  here  was  the 
presence  of  fragments  of  stone  cornices  and  other  mouldings, 
evidently  of  Western  workmanship.  They  are  used  in  all 
kinds  of  ways ;  as  stepping-stones,  for  instance,  or  water 
troughs,  but  there  is  no  mistaking  their  form. 

As  I  intended  passing  some  time  in  Meshed,  both  for 
the  sake  of  health  and  as  affording  me  a  point  of  vantage 
to  obtain  news  from  the  Turcomans,  I  rented  a  house  tem- 
porarily. It  was  a  typical  Persian  abode.  The  entrance- 
door  was  set  far  back  in  a  high  mud  wall,  the  recess  having 
seats  on  each  side,  perhaps  to  let  callers  rest  during  the 
long  interval  between  their  knocks  and  the  opening  of  the 
door.  A  long  passage  led  from  the  door  to  a  paved  court- 
yard about  forty  feet  square,  planted  with  a  few  flowers 
and  shrubs.  The  side  opposite  the  entrance  was  occupied 
by  the  kitchen,  and  a  large  room  adjoining,  with  five  win- 
dows looking  into  the  court.  In  this  I  took  up  my  lodgings. 
It  had,  besides  the  windows  on  the  court,  doors  on  either 
side,  communicating  respectively  with  the  kitchen,  and 
with  stairs  on  the  other  side.  The  room  itself  was 
about  twenty  feet  wide  and  thirty  in  length,  divided  in  the 
middle  by  two  massive  pillars,  and  the  inner  portion  raised 
a  few  inches  above  the  outer  floor.  There  were  deep 
recesses  in  the  wall,  serving  as  cupboards  or  closets.  The 
whole  interior  was  whitewashed.  The  outer  part  of  the 
room  between  the  pillars  and  the  windows  was  nearly  filled 
by  a  water  tank  with  the  kerb  raised  a  few  inches  above 
the  floor,  and  a  stone  pipe  in  the  centre,  from  which  a 
jet  of  water  was  occasionally  played  to  cool  the  air.  The 
tank  was  nearly  five  feet  deep,  and  on  several  occasions  I 
narrowly  escaped  an  involuntary  bath  as  I  entered  my 
room  in  moments  of  abstraction.  The  water  supply  of 
Meshed  is  very  bad,  and  reeks  with  sulphuretted  hydrogen, 
so  that  the  presence  of  this  tank  in  my  bedroom  was  by 


486  A  FOUL   TASK— PERSIAN  DRINKS. 

no  means  an  unmixed  pleasure.  Sometimes,  indeed,  when 
the  water  played  at  night  from  the  jet  and  disturbed  the 
lower  depths  of  the  pool,  the  stench  was  so  unbearable 
that  I  used  to  have  my  bed  carried  out  into  the  garden. 
Living  fish  were  occasionally  thrown  in  by  the  stream  from 
the  stone  pipe,  and  they  invariably  died  in  a  few  hours, 
owing  to  the  poisonous  nature  of  the  water.  Besides 
the  gases,  which  might  readily  be  accounted  for  by  the 
numerous  cesspools  through  which  the  water  supply  passes 
in  the  town  itself,  the  water  seemed  to  be  charged  with 
mineral  matters  whose  nature  I  could  not  determine. 
When  I  first  arrived  I  wished  to  take  a  dose  of  Epsom  salts, 
but  on  pouring  the  dose  into  half  a  tumbler  of  water  it  was 
almost  instantly  converted  into  a  dirty  white  slag-mass  like 
half-melted  glass.  The  water  had  a  thick  and  oily  taste, 
and  under  ordinary  circumstances  would  be  quite  undrink- 
able.  This  was  all  the  more  annoying,  as  hardly  any  other 
drink  could  be  had  in  the  place.  The  natives  used  at 
their  meals  a  liquor  called  doug,  coagulated  milk  diluted 
with  water,  but  this,  though  agreeable  enough,  was  too 
trying  for  an  invalid's  stomach.  The  wine  was  abominable, 
in  spite  of  the  excellent  quality  of  the  grapes.  It  tasted 
like  stale  beer  mixed  with  spirits,  and  was  of  a  dirty  brown 
colour.  The  only  other  beverage  was  a  syrup  called  sikan- 
jebin,  made  of  sugar  and  vinegar  boiled  together,  which 
was  drunk  mixed  with  water. 

Meshed  is  one  of  the  chief  cities  of  Persia.  The  circuit 
of  its  walls  is  about  four  miles,  and  the  population,  exclu- 
sive of  pilgrims,  is  estimated  at  fifty  thousand.  There  is 
a  good  deal  of  trade,  but  hardly  so  much  as  might  be 
expected  considering  the  stir  in  the  streets.  Coppersmiths 
abound  in  one  quarter  of  the  bazaar,  and  deafen  the 
passengers  with  their  hampers  as  they  make  their  pots 
and  kettles.    There  are  several  brick-yards  outside  the 


FUEL— PERSIAN  HORSES.  487 

city,  in  which  the  flat  bricks  used  for  the  better  class  of 
works  are  burned,  dry  brush  and  grass  being  used  for  fuel. 
These  are  the  only  available  materials,  wood  being  too 
valuable  to  be  applied  to  such  uses.  The  poorer  classes  use 
dried  dung  exclusively,  for  firing,  and  at  the  house  where  I 
stopped  I  remarked  that  the  stable  manure  was  carefully 
carried  out  every  morning  and  spread  on  the  roofs  to  dry  in 
the  sun.  It  was  afterwards  packed  in  bags  and  stored 
away  for  the  winter.  The  horses  are  generally  of  the  Persian 
breed,  being  a  mixture  of  Arab  and  Turcoman  blood,  but 
thoroughbred  Turcomans  are  also  frequently  exposed  for 
sale.  I  saw  two  fine  ones  offered  for  sale  in  the  bazaar 
on  the  day  of  my  arrival.  They  were  very  richly  capa- 
risoned. Besides  embroidered  saddle  cloths  and  housings, 
they  had  heavy  silver  collars  studded  with  turquoises  and 
cornelians,  and  corresponding  ornaments  on  every  available 
part  of  the  body.  The  value  of  the  trappings  must  have 
equalled  that  of  the  steeds  themselves. 


488  A   GUARDED  APPROACH. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE    SHRINE   OF  IMAM  BIZA. 

A  Persian  Mecca  —Jealousy  of  Christian  visitors — Interments  in  the  sacred 
ground — Tombstone  makers — A  Persian  lathe — The  great  mosque — Cha- 
racteristic architecture — Colour  in  architecture — The  tomb  of  Haroun- 
al-Raschid  —  Renegade  Christians — Light  and  shade  effects  —  Wealth 
of  a  Mahomedan  sanctuary — Rights  of  pilgrims— Mosques  in  decay — Minars 
and  Irish  round  towers — An  ancient  rite — Saluting  the  sunset— Barbaric 
music — Relics  of  Zoroastrism — Sunnites  and  Shiitee — The  twelve  holy 
Imams — Wine  drinking  among  Persians — National  traditions  and  re- 
ligion— The  Mahomedan  conqueror  of  Persia. 

The  only  thing  worth  seeing  at  Meshed  is  the  great  mosque 
of  Imam  Biza ;  and  that,  unfortunately,  is  the  most  diffi- 
cult thing  to  see,  both  on  account  of  its  position  and  the 
jealous  care  with  which  Shiia  bigotry  wards  off  the  approach 
of  the  infidel  to  the  sacred  precincts.  It  is  only  from  the 
eastern  or  western  extremities  of  the  great  central  avenue 
of  the  city  that  a  glimpse  can  be  caught  of  the  golden 
dome  and  minars.  On  a  nearer  approach,  the  trees, 
houses,  and  massive  gateways  which  give  access  to  the 
great  courtyard  in  which  the  building  stands,  completely 
shut  out  the  view.  As  you  approach  along  the  avenue 
from  either  side,  following  the  course  of  the  central  stream, 
you  are  suddenly  stopped  by  a  wall  reaching  across  the 
entire  street.  It  has  two  large  gates  and  as  many  window- 
like apertures  closed  by  stout  wooden  bars.  It  is  about 
two  hundred  yards  from  the  great  gateway,  and  immediately 
within  it  and  reaching  up  to  the  latter  is  a  very  animated 
portion  of  the  bazaar,  to  which,  however,  access  is  forbidden 


CHIBOUKDJIS—PUBUC  CLOCK.  489 

to  giaours.  This  outer  gateway  is  a  favourite  place  of 
resort  for  itinerant  barbers,  who  are  to  be  seen  there  by 
dozens,  plying  their  razors  on  the  crowns  of  their  customers. 
Here,  too,  we  find  those  dealers  altogether  peculiar  to  the 
East,  who  go  about  with  a  tray  full  of  pipes  before  them, 
and  who  let  you  have  a  smoke  from  a  chibouk  or  a  kalioun, 
as  you  may  fancy,  for  the  sum  of  about  half  a  farthing. 
The  stream  of  people  passing  in  and  out  of  this  interior 
bazaar,  hadjis  and  merchants,  is  continuous;  and  in  a 
moment  the  stranger  is  surrounded  by  a  crowd  gazing  and 
staring  as  if  his  like  had  never  before  been  seen.  The 
entire  structure  is  covered  with  enamelled  tiles,  blue  and 
yellow  arabesques  on  a  white  ground.  At  a  distance  the 
effect  is  very  fine  indeed.  Above  the  arch  of  the  western 
gate  is  a  clock.  I  was  very  anxious  to  get  a  close  look  at 
the  great  mosque,  and  I  was  at  my  wit's  ends  how  to  do  so, 
when  a  soldier,  kindly  lent  me  from  his  guard  by  the  British 
agent,  bethought  himself  of  a  doorway,  not  unpleasantly 
railed  off  like  the  two  greater  ones,  and  from  which  the 
desired  sight  might  be  obtained.  Crossing  a  steep  bridge 
over  the  muddy  stream,  which,  by  the  way,  flows  right 
through  the  holy  ground  to  afford  the  faithful  an  oppor- 
tunity of  performing  their  ablutions,  we  plunged  into  a 
labyrinth  of  narrow  streets  to  the  left.  We  traversed  a 
series  of  tunnels,  such  as  I  have  already  described,  and 
emerged  into  a  vast  open  space.  This  was  the  '  field  of  the 
dead,'  the  place  where  those  whose  bodies  are  brought  from 
far  for  deposition  near  the  shrine  of  Imam  Biza  are  in- 
terred. It  was  of  great  extent,  and  literally  paved  with 
tombstones — horizontal  flags,  for  the  Persians,  unlike  the 
Turks,  do  not  use  vertical  head-stones.  I  counted  about  a 
dozen  vertical  monuments.  These  probably  marked  the 
resting-places  of  Sunnites — for  such,  heretics  as  they  are 
considered  here,  are  not  excluded  from  the  holy  precincts. 


490  THE  ' FIELD  OF  THE  DEAD'— NEW  ARRIVALS. 

It  was  literally  '  a  wilderness  of  graves  and  tombs.'  For 
centuries  the  dead  had  been  packed  into  this  space,  until 
you  could  not  put  your  hand  between  the  monumental  flags, 
and  yet,  the  cry  is  'still  they  come/  There  were  asses 
standing  by,  waiting  to  have  their  ghastly  loads  unpacked — 
poor  remnants  of  humanity  whose  former  owners  had  given 
perhaps  half  the  hard-earned  gatherings  of  a  life  to  buy 
rest  nearer  to  the  golden  dome,  sheltered  from  the  iron 
hammers  of  Monkir  and  Nankir.  It  is  no  joke,  on  a  hot 
autumn  day,  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  a  row  of  the  remains  of 
pious  people  who  have  been  dead  mayhap  for  the  past  three 
months.  There  was  one  row  of  coffins  sweltering  in  the 
noontide  blaze,  whence  an  amber-coloured  liquor  was 
distilling  through  the  felt  wrapping  and  forming  little  pools 
in  the  dust,  a  row  whence  *  rose  the  rich  steams  of  sweet 
mortality.'  I  shot  past  with  an  irreverent  haste  which 
I  am  afraid  scandalised  the  true  believers.  On  dead  walls 
not  far  off  some  traders  in  religion  had  fixed  up  large 
canvas  paintings,  fifteen  feet  square,  representing  various 
scenes  in  the  massacre  of  Hassan  and  Hussein,  and  some 
combats  of  Bustam  with  the  White  Demon,  that  ever- 
lasting subject  of  Persian  art.  Whenever  a  crowd  collected, 
and  many  of  them  were  women,  some  of  whom  descended 
from  their  red  horse  litters,  the  two  exhibitors  commenced 
a  kind  of  recitative  chant,  descriptive  of  the  event  repre- 
sented in  their  painting,  occasionally  bursting  forth  into 
song  of  a  very  monotonous  character.  Around,  old  moullahs 
were  seated  among  the  tombs,  reading  the  Koran  in  a  loud 
voice  with  a  view  of  extracting  charity  from  the  hadjis ; 
and  deformed  beggars  almost  in  a  state  of  nudity  whined 
and  howled  at  the  passers-by.  How  all  these  people  man- 
aged to  support  the  odour  of  the  reeking  corpses  close  by  I 
cannot  imagine.  I  was  glad  to  get  away  from  the  spot, 
and  followed  my  guide  into  a  covered  passage  leading 


STONE   WORKERS.  49 1 

towards  the  great  mosque.    It  was  lined  with  booths  of 
stone-cutters,  who  sold  tombstones ;  and  vendors  of  those 
little  cakes   of  clay  stamped  with  Koranic  inscriptions, 
which  Persians  place  on  the  ground  before  them  when 
praying,  and  touch  with  their  foreheads  when  they  pros- 
trate themselves.    These  clay  cakes,  which  must  be  earth 
from  some  one  of  the  holy  places,  such  as  Kufa,  Kerbella, 
Meshed,  &c,  the  Sunnite  Mussulmans  altogether  dispense 
with.     They  are  of  a  light  chocolate  colour,  and  vary  in 
size  and  shape.     Some  are  octagonal,  and  only  an  inch  and 
a  half  in  diameter.    Others  are  as  big  as  and  the  shape  of  a 
piece  of  Windsor  soap.     The  tombstone  merchants  are  hard 
at  work  chipping  away  at  their  rude  slabs  to  supply  the 
never-failing  demand.     Their  booths  are  half  full  of  chips 
and  dust ;  and  they  sit  upon  a  pile  of  the  same  material, 
the  skirts  of  which  reach  into  the  middle  of  the  narrow 
passage.    To  judge  from  its  dimensions  it  must  have  been 
accumulating  since  the  days  of  their  grandfathers;  and 
the  present  workers  are  now  being  gradually  raised  towards 
the  roofs  of  their  stalls  on  the  summits  of  these  ever-growing 
heaps,  which  no  one  dreams  of  removing.    Mingled  with 
the  sepulchral  ornament  makers  are  people  who  manufac- 
ture cooking  pots  from  a  hard  light  blue  gritty  limestone ; 
the  most  singular  material  perhaps  from  which  a  cooking 
pot  was  ever  made.     They  are  about  ten  inches  wide  at 
the  mouth,  and  about  thirteen  at  the  bottom.    The  stone 
is  first  rudely  shaped  interiorly  by  scoring  it  from  rim  to 
bottom  with  chisels.    While  still  solid  the  mass  of  stone  is 
placed  in  a  rude  lathe.    It  is  only  an  iron  axle  on  which  is 
a  wooden  bobbin.    The  string  of  a  curved  bow  is  passed 
a  couple  of  times  round  this,  and  the  worker,  by  drawing 
the  bow  backwards  and  forwards,  causes  the  stone  to 
rotate  alternately  in  opposite  directions.    A  curved  steel 
instrument  gradually  smooths  the  outside  of  the  stone  and 


492  GREAT  FRONT  OF  THE  MOSQUE. 

gives  it  a  circular  outline.  It  is  afterwards  laboriously 
hollowed  out  with  hammer  and  chisel.  The  cost  of  such 
a  pot  is  tenpence,  though  it  occupied  the  artificer  two 
days  to  make  it.  Passing  by  these  stone-workers  we  arrive 
at  a  short  passage  forming  an  oblique  angle  with  the  last. 
Here  there  are  merchants  selling  cloth  and  miscellaneous 
articles.  At  the  end  of  the  passage  is  a  tall  wide  gateway, 
and  then  a  full  view  of  the  front  of  the  great  mosque  bursts 
upon  the  sight.  I  pressed  close  to  the  gates,  despite  the 
rude  cries  of  booroo  (get  away)  addressed  to  me  on  all  sides 
as  a  giaour  is  seen  approaching  the  sacred  threshold,  though 
the  front  of  the  mosque  is  nigh  a  hundred  yards  away. 
I  verily  believe  that  but  for  my  military  attendant  I  should 
have  been  bodily  maltreated  for  my  presumption  in  approach- 
ing, even  at  such  a  respectful  distance,  the  holy  of  holies 
of  Shiiadomr  It  was  early  in  the  forenoon,  and  the  full 
blaze  of  the  sun  fell  upon  the  great  front,  with  its  glittering 
blue  and  white  surface  and  gilt  minar  and  gateway.  Just 
as  there  are  certain  seasons  at  which  to  visit  different 
countries,  if  we  would  see  their  peculiarities  and  charac- 
teristics fully  developed,  so  there  are  certain  hours  of  the 
day,  and  certain  degrees  and  directions  of  light,  at  which 
certain  buildings  look  their  best,  and  the  idea  of  the  archi- 
tect is  brought  saliently  before  the  eye.  The  great  front  at 
which  I  gazed  is  simply  a  massive  block  of  building  rising 
high  above  the  main  body  of  the  edifice  behind  like  the 
front  of  a  Gothic  cathedral.  It  resembles  the  latter  in 
nothing  else,  being  entirely  plain  except  for  the  great  recessed 
portal  which  occupies  a  great  part  of  its  front.  In  fact  it 
resembles  the  pylon  of  an  Egyptian  temple,  but  without  the 
incline  inwards  characteristic  of  the  latter.  The  effect,  when 
seen  from  the  front,  is  massive  and  imposing,  but  when 
viewed  from  either  side  it  has  a  makeshift  and  patchwork 
air  that  takes  greatly  from  the  appearance  of  the  whole.    On 


RELIGIOUS  ARCHITECTURE.  493 

the  right  of  this  fa?ade,  and  in  a  line  with  it,  is  a  massive 
square  tower  rising  slightly  above  the  latter,  and  terminating 
in  a  cylindrical  minaret,  which  projects  like  a  bartizan 
beyond  the  wall  of  the  tower.  This  minaret  has  on  its 
summit  a  cage-like  chamber  for  the  muezzim,  which  is 
again  surmounted  by  a  tall  pinnacle.  The  minaret,  from 
the  point  where  it  springs  from  the  tower,  is  covered  with 
copper  plates  richly  gilt.  The  entire  tower  and  facade  are 
covered  with  tiles  a  foot  square,  and  so  neatly  joined  that 
the  surface  seems  one  unbroken  sheet  of  blue  and  white 
enamel  slightly  relieved  with  orange.  The  gateway  is  of 
the  usual  ogive  form,  and  deeply  recessed  like  that  of  a 
Gothic  cathedral.  The  peculiar  Persian  ornamentation 
within  the  arch,  and  which  seems  copied  from  the  inside 
of  the  rind  of  a  pomegranate  when  the  seeds  are  removed, 
or  a  broken  section  of  a  honeycomb,  is  richly  gilt  and 
coloured.  Throughout  Persia,  both  in  ancient  and  modern 
buildings,  this  very  peculiar  style  of  arch  ornamentation 
is  to  be  found,  replacing  the  continuous  mouldings  of  Gothic 
architecture.  It  is  as  if  a  number  of  short  hexagonal 
prisms  had  been  pressed  into  soft  plaster  to  half  their 
depth,  leaving  a  series  of  vertical  three-sided  cavities  all 
connecting  with  each  other,  a  slight  stalactite-like  appendage 
being  added  to  th&  bottom  of  each  group  of  cavities.  I 
have  seen  some  fine  specimens  of  this  kind  of  stone  work 
in  the  old  palace  and  mosques  at  Baku,  and  in  the  ancient 
Persian  buildings  at  Kaife  and  Erzeroum.  Close  to  the 
main  building,  which  is  very  plain,  having  nothing  what- 
ever to  recommend  it  from  an  architectural  point  of  view, 
and  supported  on  a  cylindrical  base  some  thirty  feet  high,  is 
a  hemispherical  dome  all  ablaze  with  gilding.  In  the  rear  of 
the  building  is  a  second  fa$ade  and  minaret,  similar  to  the 
front.  In  the  courtyard  behind,  is  a  fountain,  not  as  in  the 
sense  generally  understood,  from  which  jets-d'eau  are  thrown 


494   PILGRIMS  AT  PRAYER—HAROUN-AL-RASCHID. 

into  the  air,  bat  a  kiosk-like  structure  similar  to  those  to 
be  met  with  in  Constantinople.  In  keeping  with  the 
mosque,  it  is  entirely  covered  with  enamelled  tiles,  and  is 
exceedingly  pretty  both  in  colouring  and  outline.  As  I 
gazed  at  the  glittering  front  before  me,  over  a  thousand 
pilgrims,  all  of  whom  had  donned  the  white  hadji  turban, 
were  prostrating  themselves  in  the  great  courtyard  before 
the  entrance-gate,  preparatory  to  entering  the  shrine  itself. 
The  most  profound  stillness  reigned.  Never  have  I  seen 
so  many  persons  assembled  together  with  so  little  noise. 
In  that  vast  crowd  were  mingled  together  Sunnite  and 
Shiite,  their  religious  differences  merged  for  the  moment 
before  the  shrine  of  Imam  Biza.  While  each  of  these 
pilgrims  was  doubtless  swelling  with  satisfaction  and  a 
consciousness  of  arduous  duty  performed,  and  half  forgot 
his  long  and  arduous  toil  along  the  dreary  hills  and  plains 
that  separated  him  from  his  home,  I,  too,  felt  that  I  had 
performed  a  pilgrimage,  and  that  I  was  at  least  a  literary 
hadji.  Few,  if  any,  of  those  hundreds  who  bowed  before 
the  golden  portals  recollected  aught  but  the  memory  of  the 
Imam  whose  tomb  gives  sanctity  to  the  pile.  As  for 
me,  I  could  gaze  with  scarce  aught  but  interest  upon  a 
temple  beneath  whose  golden  cupola  rests  one  the  story 
of  whose  adventures  and  eccentricities  has  filled  many  a 
boyish  hour  with  delight,  the  contemporary  of  Charlemagne, 
the  great  monarch  of  the  East,  the  hero  of  the  '  Arabian 
Nights,'  the  Caliph  Haroun-alJtaschid.  Yes,  here  he 
rests  amid  a  crowd  of  forgotten  sovereigns — himself  for- 
gotten in  the  land  he  ruled  over,  remembered  only  by  the 
passing  Western  stranger.  I  should  have  much  wished  to 
visit  his  tomb  within  the  mosque ;  but  of  that  there 
was  but  little  chance  without  a  formal  embracing  of 
Islam.  A  propos  of  conversions  to  Islam,  since  my  arrival 
in  these  parts  two  Europeans  had  been  received  into  the 


A   CONVERT  TO  ISLAM.  495 

bosom  of  Mahomedanism.  One,  a  young  man  named 
Dnfour,  I  have  referred  to  in  my  description  of  Euchan. 
The  other  quasi-convert  called  upon  me  at  Meshed.  He 
was  a  Russian,  a  native  of  Tiflis,  who  came  to  Meshed  a  month 
before  as  an  itinerant  jeweller  with  a  hadji  caravan.  One 
night  his  Persian  servant  disappeared,  taking  with  him  his 
stock  of  jewels  and  all  his  clothes.  Reduced  to  misery,  he 
embraced  Mahomedanism  for  the  sake  of  the  food  dis- 
tributed in  charity  to  true  believers  at  the  mosque.  He 
saw  me  in  the  bazaar,  and,  thinking  I  was  going  to  Teheran, 
came  to  beg  me  to  take  him  with  me.  He  vowed  and 
swore  he  was  no  more  of  a  Mussulman  than  I  was,  and 
that  nothing  but  dire  distress  had  induced  him  to  go  through 
the  form  of  apostasy.  In  proof  of  this  he  crossed  himself 
all  over  with  astonishing  rapidity  in  the  Russian  fashion, 
and  went  through  a  variety  of  genuflexions.  He  said  he 
had  wished  to  come  to  see  me  long  before,  but  that  his  new 
co-religionists  had  kept  dinning  into  his  ears  the  penalties 
of  falling  away  from  his  new  faith,  such  as  having  his 
throat  cut,  or  both  his  feet  chopped  off;  and  he  was  afraid 
his  visit  to  me  might  be  taken  as  a  sign  of  coming  apostasy. 
He  was  little  more  than  twenty-two  or  three  years  of  age.  I 
comforted  the  fellow  as  well  as  I  could,  and  promised  to  see 
what  I  could  do  with  the  Russian  native  agent  there  towards 
getting  him  sent  on  to  Teheran.  Here  are  cases  for  the 
Teheran  missionaries  to  look  after,  instead  of  trying  to 
convert  Armenian  Christians  to  their  own  particular 
doctrinal  views. 

I  stood  gazing  so  long  at  the  front  of  the  great  Mussul- 
man shrine,  that  the  sunlight  gradually  faded  away,  leaving 
it  and  the  gilt  minars  in  cold  shadow.  The  change  was 
magical.  It  was  as  when  the  limelight  dies  away  from  the 
figures  of  some  theatrical  fairy  scene.  All  in  a  moment  is 
dull  and  commonplace.    The  glittering  pile  degenerated 


49&  EFFECTS  OF  LIGHT. 

into  a  cold  pagoda-like  structure  surmounted  by  a  great 
brass  tin  can.  Never  was  pantomime  transformation 
scene  more  rapid  in  its  changes  than  this  from  gem-like 
beauty  to  a  chill,  rigid  crockery-ware  appearance.  The 
change  is  all  the  more  striking  that  the  building  has  no 
intrinsic  beauty  of  outline  of  its  own.  When  the  glory  of 
sunlight  has  faded  off  there  remains  a  cold,  rigid,  angular 
mass,  without  a  line  or  curve  which  could  appeal  to  one's 
©sthetic  feelings.  Strip  off  the  barbaric  surface  gloss  and 
glitter,  and  there  abides  not  a  ghost  of  beauty  to  haunt 
the  shapeless  uncouth  mass  which  remains.  I  have  seen 
many  ruins  of  what  were  more  or  less  similar  structures  in 
their  days  of  glory.  There  was  not  a  line,  not  a  grouping 
that  would  recommend  itself  to  the  eye  of  an  artist.  Even 
moonlight  fails  to  lend  to  the  shapeless  masses  the  charm 
and  indulgence  which  'broken  arch  and  ruined  column' 
seem  to  claim  as  a  right.  Here,  there  is  no  ruined  Parthe- 
non or  temple  of  Jupiter  to  adorn  the  night.  The  surface 
colouring  and  glitter  gone,  a  Persian  ruin  is  a  very  ghoul  of 
ugliness  beside  the  graceful  relics  of  other  climes.  Of 
course  I  am  alluding  entirely  to  Mahomedan  architecture. 
Persepolis  and  similar  ruins  do  not  come  within  the  scope 
of  my  observations.  The  mosque  of  Imam  Biza,  apart  from 
its  sanctity  as  a  shrine,  is  a  religious  centre  of  no  small 
importance,  owing  to  its  vast  endowments,  the  gifts  of  many 
successive  sovereigns.  Almost  the  entire  of  this  north- 
eastern corner  of  Persia  belongs  to  it,  and  the  revenue 
derived  therefrom  is  enormous  ;  indeed  it  must  necessarily 
be  so  to  support  the  army  of  moullahs,  ferashes,  and  other 
functionaries  deemed  requisite  for  the  due  honouring  of  the 
shrine.  There  are  over  five  hundred  moullahs  or  priests, 
among  whom  are  several  of  very  high  class.  The  ferashes 
or  servants  and  guardians  are  proportionately  numerous ; 
and  there  is,  besides,  the  usual  crowd  of  hangers-on  who 


A  RICH  ENDOWMENT— GOWHER  SHAH.        AffJ 

subsist  upon  the  revenues  and  whose  position  cannot  well 
be  defined.  The  entire  number  attached  to  the  shrine  is 
estimated  at  two  thousand.  At  night,  twenty  moullahs,  a 
like  number  of  ferashes,  and  as  many  soldiers,  keep  watch 
and  ward  within  the  building,  and  look  after  the  safety  of 
the  shrine,  which  is,  I  am  informed,  extremely  rich,  and 
adorned  with  a  large  amount  of  gold  and  precious  stones. 
Apart  from  the  expenses  of  the  vast  permanent  staff  of 
retainers,  there  are  others  which  must  be  very  considerable. 
All  pilgrims  to  the  shrine  are  entitled  to  receive  pilaff  twice 
a  day  during  the  seven  days  following  their  arrival.  As  the 
influx  of  pilgrims  is  continuous  and  enormous,  the  cost  of 
feeding  them  must  be  no  small  item  in  the  daily  expenses. 
There  are,  besides,  whole  crowds  of  dervishes  and  faquirs 
or  poor  people  who  are  permanently  on  the  establishment ;  so 
that  considering  everything — especially,  too,  the  amount 
which,  more  Persico,  inevitably  finds  its  way  into  the  pockets 
of  everyone  concerned  in  the  adminst ration— the  revenues 
of  the  mosque  must  equal  those  of  a  small  kingdom. 

Besides  the  mosque  of  Imam  Eiza  there  are  several 
others,  but  notably  two  ancient  ones.  Both  were  once  highly 
ornamented  with  enamelled  tiles ;  but  they  are  now  sadly 
neglected  and  falling  to  ruin.  The  dome  of  Gowher  Shah's 
mosque  has  something  of  a  bulbous  shape,  and  is  built  of 
blue  bricks  beautifully  glazed.  Gaps  have  opened  in  its 
sides,  and  brambles  grow  in  the  crevices.  There  is  one 
evidently  very  ancient  mosque,  whose  name  I  have  not  been 
able  to  make  out,  which,  as  it  stands,  is  a  good  specimen  of 
Persian  mismanagement  and  neglect.  The  front  was  once 
elaborately  ornamented  with  coloured  tiles,  which  either 
from  earthquake  shocks  or  the  effect  of  the  weather  had  in 
places  fallen  away,  exposing  the  white  plaster  in  which  they 
had  been  imbedded,  and  giving  the  building  a  patched 
appearance.     To  replace  the  tiles  would  have  been  the 

VOL.  I.  K  K 


498     AN  ANCIENT  MOSQUE— ENAMELLED  BRICKS. 

easier  and  more  expeditious  course  to  pursue.  Instead 
of  this,  the  entire  front  of  the  building  was  plastered  over 
with  a  fine  coat  of  yellow  mud,  a  narrow  stripe  only  of  tiles 
along  the  entablature  being  left  uncovered.  This  coat  of 
mud  is  now  hanging  in  great  sheets  from  the  front  of  the 
mosque  like  paper  on  a  damp  wall,  showing  both  tiles  and 
plaster,  and  presenting  a  thoroughly  ragged  appearance. 
The  fallen  tiles,  exquisitely  enamelled,  and  over  four 
hundred,  perhaps  six  hundred,  years  old,  lie  rudely  stacked 
around  the  yard  of  the  mosque,  or  thrown  loosely  about. 
There  are  art  treasures  lying  there  which  would  make  a 
collector  of  cashi  run  wild  with  delight.  As  I  was  standing 
near  the  gate  admiring  these  fallen  treasures,  a  number  of 
sallow,  long-haired  dervishes  with  battle-axes  and  iron-bound 
clubs,  and  who  seemed  to  constitute  themselves  a  guard 
over  the  premises,  approached  me  in  a  menacing  fashion, 
and  I  withdrew  hurriedly.  Close  alongside  this  mosque 
is  a  minar  of  very  rich  appearance,  built  entirely  of 
enamelled  bricks,  some  placed  obliquely  with  the  others  so 
as  to  form  ornamental  designs.  This  tower  is  completely 
detached  from  the  main  building,  is  perfectly  plain  in  out- 
line, and  tapers  slightly  towards  the  summit.  It  is  from 
seventy  to  eighty  feet  in  height,  and,  in  its  form  and  isola- 
tion from  the  mosque  itself,  forcibly  reminded  me  of  the 
Irish  round  towers.  In  fact,  take  away  the  colour,  it  was 
similar  to  the  old  tower  of  Eildare.  The  difference  between 
these  Persian  minars  here,  and  the  minarets  one  sees  at 
Constantinople,  is  enormous.  The  Persian  minar  owes  all 
to  colour  or  gilding ;  the  Turkish  minaret  appeals  to  the 
eye  by  beauty  of  form  alone.  One  is  the  mere  painter's 
lay-figure  on  which  to  hang  rich  vestments ;  the  other  is 
the  pale  Grecian  statue  in  all  its  colourless  beauty.  The 
one  can  never  cease  to  be  beautiful  even  in  decay;  the 
other,  with  the  least  degeneration  from  its  often  tawdry 


PERSIAN  AND   TURKISH  MINARETS— SUNSET.    499 

splendour,  becomes  hideous.  I  stayed  so  long  lingering  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  different  mosques,  studying  their 
lines  and  colours,  that  the  sun  was  already  sinking  towards 
the  horizon  as  I  turned  homewards.  A  horrid  din  filled 
the  city.  From  the  summit  of  the  western  gateway  of 
the  great  mosque  men  were  beating  gongs  and  blowing  long 
blasts  on  most  untuneful  instruments  which  sounded  like 
huge  cow-horns.  The  crash  and  din  was  not  without  a 
tinge  of  barbaric  grandeur,  mingled,  I  thought,  with  a  wild 
sadness.  From  different  parts  of  the  town  came  equally 
savage  harmonies,  that  sent  the  wild  birds  whirling  and 
shrieking  in  troops  above  oui^heads.  The  bugling  from  the  top 
of  the  gateway  was  characteristic  of  far-off  Eastern  climes, 
1  the  mournful  sound  of  the  barbarous  horn.'  Amid  all  this 
crash  and  moaning  the  sun  sank  behind  the  horizon  ;  and, 
as  I  gazed,  it  seemed  as  if  I  were  carried  back  to  old 
Assyrian  days  and  listened  to  the  pomp  and  din  of  some 
long-robed  procession  hailing  the  departing  luminary. 
Though  the  religion  of  Zoroaster  be  no  more,  I  have 
no  doubt  that  this  fanfare  saluting  the  setting  sun  is  a 
custom  come  down  from  past  ages ;  one  of  those  ceremonies 
which  still  cling  lovingly  to  an  ancient  shrine,  though  the 
significance  of  the  rite  be  forgotten,  the  altars  cold,  the 
creed  scarce  remembered  in  the  land. 

A  word  or  two  on  the  religious  differences  between  the 
Sunnites  and  Shiites  may  not  be  out  of  place  here.  As 
already  stated,  both  sects  worship  together  at  the  mosque  of 
Imam  Eiza  as  they  do  at  Mecca,  still  the  feeling  between 
them  is  very  bitter.  For  the  Sunnites,  the  Sultan  of  Turkey 
is  not  only  sovereign  in  his  own  dominions,  but  he  is  Com- 
mander of  the  Faithful  in  other  lands  in  virtue  of  his 
succession  to  the  Caliphate.  The  Shiites  recognise  no 
actual  caliph  or  visible  head  of  their  religion.  They  hold 
that  only  Ali  and  his  twelve  successors  were  entitled  to 

X  K  2 


5oo  SUNNITE  AND  SHIITE. 

that  rank,  except  the  two  immediate  successors  of  Mahomed, 
and  that  all  the  rest  have  been  only  usurpers,  like  Omar. 
The  Shah  has  no  pretensions  to  spiritual  authority  as  the 
Sultan  has.  Moreover,  the  Sunnite  doctors  recognise  certain 
traditions  of  Islam  as  forming  a  part  of  the  Mahomedan 
doctrine ;  while  the  Shiites  reject  them,  and  maintain  that 
the  Koran  alone  is  the  rule  of  faith  and  religious  practice. 
There  are  a  couple  of  minor  differences  in  the  external  form 
of  prayer  also.  In  the  preliminary  washing,  the  Shiite  is 
careful  to  let  the  water  run  off  the  tips  of  his  fingers  and 
from  his  elbows,  as  well  as  from  the  point  of  his  beard. 
The  Sunnite  washes  himself  jn  any  fashion,  being  only 
careful  that  the  process  is  effective.  Of  the  two,  his  is  the 
more  genuine  washing,  especially  in  the  matter  of  the  feet. 
When  no  water  is  to  be  had,  as  in  the  desert,  the  wor- 
shipper merely  lays  his  palms  flat  on  the  earth  or  sand, 
and  with  the  little  which  adheres  goes  through  the  form 
of  washing,  the  Shiite  carefully  preserving  his  special  form. 
During  prayer,  the  Shiite  when  standing  keeps  his  hands 
hanging  at  his  sides,  and  when  kneeling  keeps  them  upon 
his  knees.  The  Sunnite  keeps  them  crossed  before  him, 
one  upon  the  other.  Then,  again,  the  Shiite  must  have 
his  cake  of  clay ;  while  the  Sunnite  does  not  necessarily 
require  any  such  souvenir  of  the  holy  places.  I  have 
frequently  seen  the  Osmanli  Turks  and  the  Turcomans  place 
on  the  ground  before  them  the  beads  they  perpetually  keep 
passing  between  their  fingers.  Such  are  the  main  differ- 
ences, doctrinal  and  otherwise,  which  separate  the  two 
great  sects.  Each  has  within  itself  its  own  minor  differ- 
ences, which  I  am  not  sufficiently  acquainted  with  to  give 
an  account  of.  The  Sunnites  have  notably  their  Puritans-  - 
the  Wahabbees,  a  sect  very  numerous  in  central  Arabia. 
They  are,  however,  but  a  very  strict  sect  of  Sunnites.  They 
consider  the  wearing  of  gold  or  silk  on  the  person  as  unlaw- 


WAHABBEES— DISREGARD  OF  THE  KORAN.     501 

fal ;  denounce  smoking ;  and  some  go  so  far  even  as  to 
consider  coffee  as  among  tbe  stimulants  forbidden  by  the 
Prophet.  It  is  curious  enough  that  while  the  Persian 
Shiites  pretend  that  their  speciality  is  a  rigid  adherence  to 
the  actual  doctrines  of  the  Koran,  they  should  in  some 
respects  violate  them  most  flagrantly.  In  their  mosaic  and 
tile  decorations  they  make  free  use  of  the  human  figure 
and  that  of  various  animals,  even  on  their  mosques.  This 
I  do  not  remember  ever  to  have  seen  an  example  of  among 
the  Sunnites,  who  carefully,  confine  their  architectural 
ornaments  to  arabesques  or  representations  of  flowers 
or  other  inanimate  objects.  Again,  drinking  wine  and 
other  alcoholic  liquors  is  largely  practised  among  the 
Persians.  The  Osmanlis,  too,  especially  the  Pasha  class, 
and  such  as  have  studied  in  Europe,  occasionally  indulge, 
but  to  nothing  like  the  extent  to  which  the  Persians  do. 
The  latter,  once  they  commence,  seem  to  know  no  limit  to 
their  indulgence.  The  Persian's  beau  ideal  of  a  drinker  is 
one  who  sits  in  a  shady  grove  beside  a  running  stream,  and 
drinks  wine  until  he  loses  consciousness ;  then  sleeps  till 
his  senses  return,  and  then  directly  recommences.  Tet 
even  those  most  addicted  to  wine-bibbing  are  careful  never 
to  make  the  least  allusion  to  such  a  thing.  They  consider 
themselves  justified  in  the  indulgence,  not  in  mentioning 
it.  Hafiz  and  other  Persian  poets  bristle  with  allusions  to 
wine-cups ;  and,  to  judge  from  their  writings,  drinking  wine 
seems  to  have  been  for  a  very  long  time  past  one  of  the 
principal  occupations  of  Persians. 

As  I  turned  my  steps  homewards,  in  passing  one  of  the 
numerous  guard-houses  which  occur  at  short  intervals 
throughout  the  town,  I  heard  one  of  the  soldiers  venting 
his  vexation  about  something  by  cursing  Omar,  the  third 
caliph  in  succession  to  Mahomed,  and  the  immediate  pre- 
decessor of  Ali.    The  outrageous  dislike  of  the  Persians  to 


5Q2  DISUKE  TO  OMAR. 

this  potentate  is  very  remarkable  when  contrasted  with  the 
profound  admiration  and  respect  entertained  for  him  by  the 
Sunnites,  who  style  him  the  4  Sword  of  God.'  It  was  by 
Omar's  generals  that  Persia  was  brought  under  the 
Mahomedan  sway,  and  perhaps  that  fact  has  more  to  do 
with  the  Persian  hatred  of  his  name  than  pure  theological 
differences.  For  whatever  reason,  the  sovereign  who  made 
Persia  Mahomedan  is  now  the  object  of  the  most  bitter 
religious  hatred  in  that  country — a  strange  phenomenon. 


EHD  OF  THE   FTB8T  VOLTTU. 


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