[Author decides to return]

After having remained eight days in Samarcand, I formed, at last, my final resolution, and determined to return to the West by the route before mentioned. Hadji Bilal was desirous of taking me with him to Aksu, and promised to try to get me forwards to Mecca, either by way of Yerkend, Thibet, and Cashmere, or, if fortune were favourable, by way of Komul to Bidjing (Pekin); but Hadji Salih did not approve of the plan, both on account of the great distance to be traversed, and the small capital at my disposal. 'You might, indeed, pa.s.s as far as Aksu, perhaps even as Komul, for so far you would meet with Musselmans and brethren, all disposed to show you great honour as a Dervish from Roum, but from that point onwards you would find black unbelievers everywhere, who, although they might throw no obstacle in your way, would give you nothing. By the way of Thibet you may find fellow-travellers going from Kashgar and Yerkend, but I cannot charge myself with the responsibility of taking you with me at this time to Khokand, where everything, owing to the recent war, is in the greatest disorder. But Khokand you must see; come, then, when things are tranquil: for the present it is better to return by Herat to Teheran, with the friends whom we have found for you.'

Although these words of my excellent friend were sensible enough, still I had for hours a long struggle with myself. A journey, I thought, by land to Pekin, across the ancient homes of the Tartars, Kirghis, Kalmuks, Mongols, and Chinese--a way by which {216} Marco Polo himself would not have ventured--is really grand! But moderation whispered in my ear, 'Enough for the moment!' I made a retrospect of what I had done, of what countries I had traversed, what distances I had travelled over, and by ways, too, by which no one had preceded me; would it not, I thought, be a pity if I sacrificed the experience which I had acquired, however trifling, in a hazardous and uncertain enterprise? I am but thirty-one years old; what has not happened may still occur; better, perhaps, now, that I should return. Hadji Bilal jested with me upon my cowardice, and the European reader may agree with him; but local experience has taught me that, at least here, one need not scorn the Turkish proverb, that says:--

'To-day's egg is better than to-morrow's fowl.'

[Arrival of Emir]

I was in the midst of the preparations for my departure, when the Emir made his triumphal entry, which, as it had been announced three days previously, great crowds a.s.sembled in the Righistan to witness. No particular pomp, however, distinguished it. The procession was opened by about 200 Serbaz, who had thrown leather accoutrements over their clumsy Bokhariot dress, and that was supposed to ent.i.tle them to the name of regular troops. Far in their rear, there followed troops in ranks with standards and kettle-drums. The Emir Mozaffar-ed-din, and all his escort of higher functionaries, looked, with their snow-white turbans and their wide silk garments of all the colours of the rainbow, more like the chorus of women in the opera of Nebuchadnezzar than a troop of Tartar warriors. So also it may be said with respect to other officers of the court, of whom some bore white staves {217} and others halberds, that there was in the whole procession nothing to remind one of Turkestan, except in the followers, of whom many were Kiptchaks, and attracted attention by their most original Mongol features, and by the arms which they bore, consisting of bows, arrows, and shields.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

ENTRY OF THE EMIR INTO SAMARCAND.

The Buildings after a sketch by Mr. Lehman.

The day of his entry the Emir made, by public notice, a national holiday. Several of their kettles of monstrous size were put in requisition, and brought forward in the Righistan, for boiling the 'princely Pilow,' which consisted of the following ingredients in each kettle:--a sack of rice, three sheep chopped to pieces, a large pan of sheep's fat (enough to make, with us, five pounds of candles), a small sack of carrots; all these were allowed to boil, or perhaps we had better call it _ferment_, together, and, as tea was also served out at discretion, the eating and drinking proceeded bravely.

[Author's Interview with him]

The day following it was announced that an Arz (public audience) would take place. I took advantage of the opportunity to present myself to the Emir under the conduct of my friends, but to my surprise, on entering, our party was stopped by a Mehrem, who informed us that his Majesty wished to see me apart from my companions. This was a blow, for we all now suspected that something was going wrong. I followed the Mehrem, and, after being kept an hour waiting, I was introduced into a room which I had on a previous occasion visited, and there I now saw the Emir sitting on a mattress or ottoman of red cloth, surrounded by writings and books. With great presence of mind, I recited a short Sura, with the usual prayer for the welfare of the Sovereign, and after the Amen, to which he himself responded, I {218} took my seat, without permission, quite close to his royal person. The boldness of my proceeding--quite, however, in accordance with the character which I a.s.sumed--seemed not displeasing to him. I had long forgotten the art of blushing, and so was able to sustain the look which he now directed full in my face, with the intention, probably, of disconcerting me. 'Hadji, thou comest, I hear, from Roum, to visit the tombs of Baha-ed-din, and the saints of Turkestan.'

'Yes, Takhsir (sire [Footnote 69]); but also to quicken myself by the contemplation of thy sacred beauty' (Djemali mubarek), according to the forms of conversation usual on these occasions.

[Footnote 69: Takhsir signifies Sir, and is employed not only in conversing with Princes, but all other personages. ]

'Strange! and thou hadst then no other motive in coming hither from so distant a land?'

'No, Takhsir (sire), it had always been my warmest desire to behold the n.o.ble Bokhara, and the enchanting Samarcand, upon whose sacred soil, as was remarked by Sheikh Djelal, one should rather walk on one's head than on one's feet. But I have, besides, no other business in life, and have long been moving about everywhere as a Djihangeshte'

(world pilgrim).

'What, thou, with thy lame foot, a Djihangeshte! That is really astonishing.'

'I would be thy victim!' (an expression equivalent to 'pardon me.') 'Sire, thy glorious ancestor (peace be with him!) had certainly the same infirmity, and he was even Djihanghir' (conqueror of the world).

[Footnote 70]

[Footnote 70: Timour, whom these Emirs of Bokhara erroneously claim as their ancestor, was, it is well known, lame; hence, his enemies called him Timur 'Lenk' (Tamerlane, _the lame Timour)_. ]

{219}

This reply was agreeable to the Emir, who put questions to me respecting my journey, and the impression made upon me by Bokhara and Samarcand. My observations, which I incessantly strove to ornament with Persian sentences and verses from the Koran, produced a good effect upon him, for he is himself a Mollah, and tolerably well acquainted with Arabic. He directed that I should be presented with a Serpay (dress) [Footnote 71] and thirty Tenghe, and dismissed me with the command that I should visit him a second time in Bokhara.

[Footnote 71: This word means Ser ta pay (from head to foot); it is a complete dress, consisting of turban, over-dress, girdle, and boots.]

When I had received the princely present, I hurried, like a man possessed by a devil, back to my friends, who were delighted at my good fortune. I heard (and there is no improbability in the account) that Rahmet Bi had drawn up his report concerning me in ambiguous terms, and that the Emir had consequently conceived suspicions. My triumph was entirely owing to the flexibility of my tongue (which is really impudent enough). In fact, I had every reason on this occasion to appreciate, the truth of the Latin proverb, 'Quot linguas cales tot homines vales.'

After this scene, I was advised by my friends to quit Samarcand in all speed, not to make any stay even in Karshi, but to gain as rapidly as possible the further bank of the Oxus, where, amongst the hospitable Ersari Turkomans, I might await the arrival of the karavan for Herat.

[Parting from the Hadjis, and Departure from Samarcand.]

The hour of departure was at hand. My pen is too feeble to convey any adequate idea of the distressing scene that took place between us; on both sides we were really equally moved. For six long months we {220} had shared the great dangers of deserts, of robbers, and inclement weather. What wonder if all difference of position, age, and nationality had been lost sight of, and if we regarded each other as all members of a single family? Separation was, in our case, equivalent to death. How could it be otherwise in these countries, where there was positively not even a hope of seeing each other again?

My heart seemed as if it would burst, when I thought that I was not permitted to communicate the secret of my disguise to these, my best friends in the world, that I must deceive those to whom I owed even my life. I tried to imagine a way--I wished to make trial of them; but religious fanaticism, to be found sometimes even in civilised Europe, has a fearful influence upon the Oriental, and particularly so upon the Islamite.

My confession, in itself a capital offence [Footnote 72] by the law of Mohammed, might not perhaps, for the moment, have severed all ties of friendship; but how bitterly, how dreadfully would my friend Hadji Salih, who was so sincere in his religious opinions, have felt the deception! No, I determined to spare him this sorrow, and to save myself from any reproach of ingrat.i.tude. He must, I thought, be left in the fond delusion.

[Footnote 72: A Murtad (renegade) is directed to be stoned to death.]

After having commended me to some pilgrims, whom I was to accompany to Mecca, as their very brother, son in fact, as one whom they most valued, they accompanied me after sunset to the outside of the city gate, where the cart that my new companions had hired for the journey to Karshi was waiting for us. I wept like a child when, tearing myself from their embraces, I took my seat in the vehicle. My {221} friends were all bathed in tears, and long did I see them--and I see them now--standing there in the same place, with their hands raised to heaven, imploring Allah's blessing upon my far journey. I turned round many times to look back. At last, they disappeared, and I found I was only gazing upon the domes of Samarcand, illuminated by the faint light of the rising moon!

{222}

CHAPTER XII.

SAMARCAND TO KARSHI THROUGH DESERT NOMADS KARSHI, THE ANCIENT NAKHSEB TRADE AND MANUFACTURE KERKI OXUS AUTHOR CHARGED WITH BEING RUNAWAY SLAVE ERSARI TURKOMANS MEZARI SHERIF BELKH AUTHOR JOINS KARAVAN FROM BOKHARA SLAVERY ZED ANDKHUY YEKETUT KHAIRABAD MAYMENE AKKALE.

_Non succurrit tibi quamdiu circ.u.m Bactra haereas?_--Q. Curtii Rufi lib. vii. 8.

[Samarcand to Karshi through Desert]

My new travelling companions were from Oosh Mergolan, and Namengan (Khanat of Khokand). It is unnecessary to describe them particularly.

They were far from being to me like those friends from whom I had just parted; nor did we remain long together. I attached myself, in preference, to a young Mollah from Kungrat, who had travelled with us to Samarcand, and hoped to proceed, in my company, as far as Mecca. He was a young man, good-humoured, and as poor as myself, who looked up to me as one superior to himself in learning, and was disposed to serve me.

From Samarcand to Karshi there are three ways, first by Shehri Sebz, which may be styled almost a circuitous way, and is the longest; secondly, by Djam, only fifteen miles, but through a stony and mountainous country, and consequently difficult, if not impracticable, for carts; thirdly, through the desert. {223} barely eighteen miles in length. On setting out, we had, anyhow, to take the Bokhara road as far as the hill, whence Samarcand first becomes visible to the traveller approaching it from the former city. Here we turned off to the left. The way then pa.s.ses through two villages, in the midst of land well cultivated. After proceeding three miles, we halted at the karavanserai, Robati Hauz, where the road divides into two others, that on the left pa.s.sing by Djam, that on the right traversing a desert. We took the latter. In comparison with those deserts through which I had already made my way, this one, with respect to size, may be styled a moderate-sized field. It is everywhere visited by shepherds, from the convenience of its numerous wells of tolerably good water; in the neighbourhood of these the Ozbegs constantly pitch their tents. The wells are, for the most part, deep, and have each near them a somewhat elevated reservoir of stone or wood, always in the form of a square, into which is thrown the water drawn from the wells, for the use of cattle. As the buckets are small, and the shepherd would be soon tired by repeatedly using them, an a.s.s, or more often a camel, is employed; the rope is attached to the saddle, and the animal draws up the bucket by walking a distance equal to the length of the cord. The appearance of these wells, of the drinking sheep, and the busy shepherd, has, in the stillness of those evening hours, something not unpoetic; and I was very much struck by the resemblance between this part of the desert and our Puszta (heaths) in Hungary.

{224}

In consequence of the strictness with which the police regulations were enforced everywhere by the Emir of Bokhara, the routes here are so safe, that not merely small karavans, but even single travellers, traverse the desert unmolested. On the second day we met at one of the wells a karavan coming from Karshi. There was amongst the travellers a young woman who had been treacherously sold by her own husband to an aged Tadjik for thirty Tilla. It was not until she reached the desert that she became fully aware of the cruel trick to which she was victim: the wretched creature, shrieking and weeping and tearing her hair, ran up to me like one distracted, and exclaimed, 'Hadjim (my Hadji), thou that hast read books, tell me where it is written that a Musselman can sell his wife who has borne him children! 'I affirmed it to be a sin, but the Tadjik only laughed at me, for he had, probably, already an understanding with the Kazi Kelan (superior judge) of Karshi, and felt sure of his purchase.

As we advanced but slowly on account of the great heat, we took two days and three nights to reach Karshi. We first came in sight of it on reaching a plateau, where the road again divides into two, that on the right hand leading to Kette Kurgan, and that on the left conducting to the river that flows. .h.i.ther from Shehri Sebz, and disappears in the sand at a considerable distance beyond Karshi. From this point the whole way to the city, which is distant two miles, pa.s.ses continually through cultivated land and numerous gardens, and as Karshi has no walls, one does not know before crossing the bridge that one is in the city.

Karshi, the ancient Nakhsheb, is, both from its size and its commercial importance, the second city in the Khanat of Bokhara; it consists of the city (proper) {225} and the citadel (Kurgantche), which latter is on its north-western side, and weakly fortified.

Karshi has, at present, ten karavanserais and a well-supplied bazaar, and, should no political disturbances occur to prevent, is considered likely to play an important part in the transit trade organised between Bokhara, Kaboul, and India. The inhabitants, estimated at 25,000 souls, are for the most part ozbegs, and form the nucleus of the troops of the Khan. The population consists, besides, of Tadjiks, Indians, Afghans, and Jews: the latter have the privilege of riding even in the interior of the city, which they are not allowed to do in any other part of the Khanat. With respect to its manufactures Karshi, less so, however, than Hissar (at a little distance from it), is distinguished by its fabrication of knives of different kinds. These are not only exported to all parts of Central Asia, but are conveyed by the Hadjis to Persia, Arabia, and Turkey, where they realise three times, and often four times, the cost price. One kind, with Damascus blades, and handles with gold and silver inlaid, is really worked with great taste, and might, both for durability and temper, put to shame the most famous produce of Sheffield and Birmingham.

[Nomads]

Amongst the letters of recommendation with which my friends had furnished me to different Khans and Mollahs on my way, one was addressed to a certain Ishan Hasan, who stood in high repute in Karshi. When I visited him he received me in a friendly manner, and advised me, as all cattle, and particularly a.s.ses, were cheap, to purchase one of these long-eared coursers, nor did he omit to tell me also to do like all other Hadjis, and employ what little money I had left in procuring knives, needles, thread, gla.s.s beads, {226} Bokhariot sacking, but, most of all, cornelians imported from Bedakhshan, and which are also cheap there; for he said that, as we were going amongst tribes of nomads, we should, by means of such merchandise, be able to gain something, and besides maintain ourselves better, for that for a single needle or a few gla.s.s beads (Mondjuck), one might often obtain bread and melons to support one a whole day. I saw at once that the good man was right, and proceeded the very same day, in company with the Mollah from Kungrat, to purchase some of the articles specified, so that, whilst one side of my Khurdjin knapsack was filled with my ma.n.u.scripts, the other was occupied by a stock of cutlery. Thus I became simultaneously antiquary, haberdasher, Hadji, and Mollah, besides filling the accessorial functions of dispenser of blessings, Nefes, amulets, and other wonders.

Singular contrast! It is just a year ago that I exercised all those offices, and now I sit in the English metropolis confined within four walls, writing from eight to ten hours a day. There I had to do with nomads picking out from my gla.s.s beads those of lightest colour, and from my amulets those having the broadest red edgings; here I have to do with publishers, and stand with embarra.s.sment before a critical and fastidious public, whose various and discordant requisitions are certainly more difficult to satisfy than the fashionable taste of a young Turkoman, or of a young brunette daughter of the Djemshidi!

[Karshi, the Ancient Nakhseb; Trade and Manufacture; Kerki]

It was quite a surprise for me to see in Karshi a public place of recreation not to be found upon the same scale either in Bokhara or Samarcand, or even in Persia itself. It is a large garden bearing the modest t.i.tle Kalenterkhane (beggar's house), {227} extending along the bank of the river, and containing several walks and beds of flowers.

Here the _beau monde_ of Karshi are in motion from two o'clock in the afternoon until an hour after sunset. In different places the steaming Samovars (giant Russian teakettles) are in requisition, surrounded constantly by circles of customers, two or three deep; the sight of the gay crowd is, for the traveller in Central Asia, really something uncommon. The inhabitants of Karshi are in other respects distinguished by their cheerfulness and light-heartedness; they are, in fact, regarded as the Shirazi of the Khanat of Bokhara.