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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..009001d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67938 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67938) diff --git a/old/67938-0.txt b/old/67938-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a906136..0000000 --- a/old/67938-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8587 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Through Russian Central Asia, by -Stephen Graham - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Through Russian Central Asia - -Author: Stephen Graham - -Release Date: April 26, 2022 [eBook #67938] - -Language: English - -Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was - created from images of public domain material made - available by the University of Toronto Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THROUGH RUSSIAN CENTRAL -ASIA *** - - - - - -THROUGH RUSSIAN CENTRAL ASIA - - -[Illustration: THE TOMB OF TIMOUR] - - - - - Through Russian - Central Asia - - By - STEPHEN GRAHAM - - With Photogravure and many - Black-and-White Illustrations - from Original Photographs - - Cassell and Company, Ltd - London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne - 1916 - - - - -Contents - - - PAGE - - INTRODUCTION ix - - 1. LEAVING VLADIKAVKAZ 1 - - 2. WHERE THE DESERT BLOSSOMS 15 - - 3. WONDERFUL BOKHARA 24 - - 4. MOHAMMEDAN CITIES AND MOHAMMEDANISM 35 - - 5. THE HISTORY OF THE TRIBES 44 - - 6. TO TASHKENT 55 - - 7. THE RUSSIAN CONQUEST 63 - - 8. ON THE ROAD 72 - - 9. THE PIONEERS 134 - - 10. FELLOW-TRAVELLERS 156 - - 11. ON THE CHINESE FRONTIER 173 - - 12. “MIDSUMMER NIGHT AMONG THE TENT-DWELLERS” 184 - - 13. OVER THE SIBERIAN BORDER 203 - - 14. ON THE IRTISH 210 - - 15. THE COUNTRY OF THE MARAL 218 - - 16. THE DECLARATION OF WAR 228 - - - APPENDICES - - 1. RUSSIA AND INDIA AND THE PROSPECTS OF ANGLO-RUSSIAN - FRIENDSHIP 237 - - 2. THE RUSSIAN EMPIRE AND THE BRITISH EMPIRE 249 - - INDEX 271 - - - - -List of Illustrations - - - THE TOMB OF TIMOUR _Photogravure Frontispiece_ - - FACING PAGE - - THE CENTRAL ASIAN RAILWAY: NEARING THE OXUS 18 - - THE CENTRAL ASIAN DESERT 20 - - BOKHARA: THE ESCORT OF A MAGISTRATE 28 - - OUTSIDE ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS OF THE MOSQUES 32 - - A HOLIDAY AT SAMARKAND: BOYS OF THE MILITARY SCHOOL - PLAYING AMONG THE RUINS OF THE TOMB OF TAMERLANE 36 - - MOHAMMEDAN TOMBS AND RUINS IN THE YOUNGEST OF THE - RUSSIAN COLONIES 40 - - A MOHAMMEDAN FESTIVAL AT SAMARKAND--THE HOUR OF PRAYER 48 - - CENTRAL ASIAN JEWESSES 50 - - FINE-LOOKING SARTS IN OLD TASHKENT 56 - - OUTSIDE A GERMAN SHOP IN OLD TASHKENT 58 - - TASHKENT: A FOOTBALL MATCH AT THE COLLEGE 60 - - PLEASANT COUNTRY OUTSIDE TASHKENT 64 - - HEARTY SHEPHERDS: ALL KIRGHIZ 66 - - THE RUSSIAN TEACHER: A NATIVE SCHOOL IN TASHKENT 68 - - A KIRGHIZ GRANDMOTHER: VENDOR OF _Koumis_ 74 - - RUSSIANS AND KIRGHIZ LIVING SIDE BY SIDE AT THE FOOT - OF THE MOUNTAINS 76 - - A TENT OF LONELY NOMADS ON A SUMMER PASTURE IN CENTRAL ASIA 80 - - SARTS SELLING BREAD: THE _Lepeshka_ STALL 84 - - THE NATIVE ORCHESTRA: SEE THE MEN WITH THE TEN-FOOT HORNS, - “TRUMPETS OF JERICHO,” AS THE RUSSIANS CALL THEM 104 - - “PAST THE RUINS OF ANCIENT TOWERS” 120 - - A SETTLED KIRGHIZ: ONE OF THE CHARACTERS OF PISHPEK 130 - - THE IRRIGATED DESERT--AN EMBLEM OF RUSSIAN COLONISATION - IN CENTRAL ASIA 136 - - THE SHADY VILLAGE STREET--ONE LONG LINE OF WILLOWS AND - POPLARS 152 - - THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. SOPHIA AT VERNEY--AFTER THE EARTHQUAKE - OF 1887 158 - - VISITORS AT A KIRGHIZ WEDDING 168 - - CHINESE PRAYING-HOUSE AT DJARKENT 178 - - LEPERS IN A FRONTIER TOWN 180 - - A PATRIARCHAL KIRGHIZ FAMILY 186 - - SHEEP-SHEARING OUTSIDE THE TENT HOME 194 - - IN SUMMER PASTURE: EVENING OUTSIDE THE KIRGHIZ TENT 198 - - FOUR WIVES OF A RICH KIRGHIZ 205 - - AT A KIRGHIZ FUNERAL 207 - - KIRGHIZ PRAYING 215 - - IN THE ALTAI: KIRGHIZ TOMBS NEAR MEDVEDKA 222 - - ALTAISKA _Stanitsa_: VIEW OF MOUNT BIELUKHA 230 - - MOBILISATION DAY ON THE ALTAI: THE VILLAGE EMPTIED - OF ITS FOLK 232 - - MAP OF ROUTE TAKEN BY AUTHOR 270 - - - - -Introduction - - -The journey recorded in these pages was made in the summer before the -great war, and although the record of my impressions and the story of -my adventures were fully written in my road diary and in the articles -I sent to _The Times_, I had thought to postpone issuing my book to -some quieter moment beyond the war. But the days go on, and we are -getting accustomed to live in a state of war; war has almost become -a normal condition of existence. At first we could do nothing but -consider the facts of the great quarrel of nations and the exploits of -the armies. War for the moment seemed to be our life, our culture, and -our religion. But things have changed. War started by concentrating -us and making us narrow, but now it is giving us greater breadth. We -have become more interested in the home life of our Allies, in the -“after-the-war” prospects of Europe, in the future of our own British -Empire and of the wide world generally. The war has given us a larger -consciousness, and we have become, as some say, “Continental.” In any -case, we are much less insular. France and Russia have become real -places to the man in the street, and the account he gives of them is -more credible. Even our country labourer can say where Gallipoli is, -Mesopotamia, Egypt, Salonica, Bulgaria, Serbia, though, indeed, I have -frequently heard the latter spoken of as Siberia. “My son’s gone to -Siberia,” says the countryman; “it’s a cold place.” Our imagination -ranges farther afield, and young men of all classes think of making -far travels when the war is over. We are not less interested in other -things, but more; only less interested in the old suffocating business -and industrial life of the time before the war, of the stuffy rooms, -the circumscribed horizons, the dull grind. All eyes are opened wider, -all hearts have greater hopes, and that which dares in us dares more. -We are reading more, reading better, and, among other matters, are -thinking more of foreign countries, empires, far-away climes. The -war, bringing so many nations together, has touched imaginations. It -has mixed our themes of conversations and enriched our life with new -colours, new ideas. So, perhaps, the story of this journey and my -impressions of an interesting but remote portion of the Tsar’s Empire -will not come amiss just now. Moreover, during the war many problems -have become clearer, especially those of the British Empire, clearer, -but none the less unsolved, and I feel that a study of a vast stretch -of the Russian Empire, and of its problems and its prospective future, -cannot but be helpful. - -Among the letters sent me care of _The Times_ there is one written -about an article which has become a chapter in this book: - - “Since I was a child and steeped myself in the ‘Arabian Nights,’ I - have never been so enthralled as I was by an article of yours called - ‘Towards Turkestan,’ which appeared in _The Times_ long since, as - it seems now (last May?). I am an old, tired recluse. I have been - reading for over sixty years. I’m very much extinct, but my desert - also blossomed with your roses. - - “Charm _inexpressible_ breathed from the roses (I think they must - have been the black-red sort). Strange figures--rich garments, - all solemnised by, as it were, a twilight glamour made of magical - influences. All so real, yet remote. I repeat, I have never been - taken away so far since I was a child. There was another article - which I cut out and lost ... but I did not prize it as I did the - Turkestan article, where figures both bizarre and dignified greeted - you and bade you farewell with roses. And sunset steeps them in a - golden haze. And they still move there whilst the traveller who has - spell-bound them in his writing has gone on his way....” - -I have printed this letter because it was sweet to have it, and it -touched me. May the roses bloom again! - -I am indebted to the Editors of _The Times_ and _Country Life_ for -permission to republish portions of this book previously printed in -their columns, and to _Country Life_ for permission to republish -photographs. For these photographs, except those relating to the -Altai, I am chiefly indebted to the professor of French at Tashkent -Military School and to M. Drampof, of Pishpek. Special permission has -to be obtained to enter Russian Central Asia, and, as I was going on -foot, the possession of a camera might have led to the suspicion of -military spying. So I had my camera sent to Semipalatinsk, which is in -Siberia, and only used it on the Siberian part of my journey. My thanks -are also due to Mr. Wilton, the courteous and able correspondent of -_The Times_ at Petrograd, who obtained for me my permit for travel in -Russian Central Asia. - - STEPHEN GRAHAM. - - - - -Through Russian Central Asia - - - - -I - -LEAVING VLADIKAVKAZ - - -In the early spring of 1914 I walked once more to the Kazbek mountain. -It was really too early for tramping, too cold, but it was on this -journey that I decided what my summer should be. Once you have become -the companion of the road, it calls you and calls you again. Even in -winter, when you have to walk briskly all day, and there is no sitting -on any bank of earth or fallen tree to write a fragment or rest, and -when there is no sleeping out, but only the prospect of freezing at -some wretched coffee-house or inn, the road still lies outside the door -of your house full of charm and mystery. You want to know where the -roads lead to, and what may be on them beyond the faint horizon’s line. - -So it is March, and I am walking out from Vladikavkaz on the Georgian -road, and only on a four days’ journey--to the Kazbek mountain and -back. Indeed, the road beyond is probably choked with snow, and there -is no further progress. But I shall see how the year stands on the -Caucasus. - -The stillness of the morning--a circumambient silence. A consciousness -of the silence in the deep of space. Three miles of level highway -stretch straight and brown from the city on the steppes to the dark, -blank wall of the mountains. Beyond the black wall and above it are -the snow-mantled superior ranges, and above all, almost melting into -the deep blue of the Caucasian sky, the glimmering, icy-wet slopes -of the dome of the Kazbek. The sun presides over the day, and as a -personal token burns the brow, even though the feet tread on patches of -crisp snow on the yellow-green banks of the moor. No lizards basking -in the sun, no insects on the wing, no flowers--not a speedwell, -not a cowslip, not a snowdrop. Only little flocks of siskins rising -unexpectedly from sun-bathed hollows like so many fat grasshoppers. -Only an occasional crazy brown leaf that scampers over the withered -fallen grass. There is vapour over the plumage-like woods on the hills, -but no birds are singing. Nature can almost be described in negation, -she shows so little of her glory; yet she makes the heart ache the more. - -Persian stone-breakers, hammer in hand, sitting on mats by the side -of the heaps of rocks; primitive carts lumbering with their loads -of faggots or maize-straw or ice; horsemen like centaurs because of -their great black capes joining their head and shoulders to little -Caucasian horses--that is all the life at this season of the year of -the one great highway over the mountains, the great military road -from Vladikavkaz to Tiflis--no motor-cars, no trams, no light-rolling -carriages with gentry in them, no trains. - -Stopping at a sunny mound to have lunch, you hear from a hundred -yards away the River Terek like the sound of a wind in the forest, -the impetuous stream rushing between white crusts of frozen foam and -washing greenly against ice-crowned boulders. For sixty miles the road -is that of the valley of the Terek. It passes the Redant and then -becomes the visible companion of the river, winding with it among the -primeval grandeur of its rocks. The Kazbek begins to disappear, hidden -by its barrier cliffs--its Kremlin; but for a mile or so its snowy cap -remains in sight over the great lopsided, jagged crags. The blue smokes -of Balta and red-roofed nestling Dolinadalin rise into the afternoon -sky. The road enters the chilling shadow of the Gorge of Jerakhof, and -you look back regretfully on the red sunlit strand behind you. The -white-framed Terek moves in a grand curve through a broad wilderness -of stones and snow. An icy mountain draught creeps from the cleft in -the grey cold rocks. On the deserted road the telegraph poles and wires -assume that sinister expression which they have in vast and lonely -mountain tracts. The opening by which you entered the gorge becomes -a purple triangle, and far above you and behind you glimmers the -tobacco-coloured sunlit Table Mountain. - -The road becomes narrower: on the one hand the river roars among -ice-mantled rocks, on the other the black silt continually trickles and -whispers. The faint crimson of sunset lights the wan towers of Fortoug, -and then one by one the yellow stars come out like lamps over the -mountain walls. - -There are three inns between Vladikavkaz and the Kazbek mountain. I -stayed at the second, at Larse, and made my supper with some thirty -Georgians, Ossetines, and Russians, workmen on the road and chance -travellers. Here I heard many rumours of the commercial destiny of the -military road, of the thirty-verst tunnel that it is necessary to make, -of the Englishman named Stewart, the “Boss of the Terek”--_Khosaïn -Tereka_--who has the contract to supply the whole of the Caucasus with -electricity, who will or will not make an electric power station in the -shadow of Queen Tamara’s castle, needing an artificial waterfall three -hundred sazhens high. - -“But the project has grown cold,” said I. - -“It will come to nothing,” say the hillmen; “for ten years people have -been talking of such things, but nothing has changed except that we -have got poorer.” - -But the host is an optimist. “It will come. There will be a tramway -from the city to the Kazbek. The trams will go past my door. We shall -have electric light and electric cooking, and will become rich.” - -We remained all thirty in one room all night--square-faced, gentle, -sociable Russians in blouses; tall, Roman-looking Georgians and -Ossetines in long cloaks, with daggers at their tight waists, with -high sheepskin hats on their heads. They ate voraciously bread and -cheese and black pigs’-liver, putting the waste ends when they had -finished into the bags of their winter hoods--astonishing people to -look at, these Caucasians; though half-starved, yet of great stature -and iron strength, with fine, broad-topped, intelligent heads, deeply -lined, cunning brows, long, beak-like, aquiline noses. They would make -splendid soldiers--but not so good “soldiers of industry.” They are -a people who often fail when they go to America. They all knew men -who had gone there and had returned with stories of unemployment or -exploitation. Scarcely one of them had a good word to say of America. -They all, however, looked forward to the time when the Caucasus would -be developed on American lines and hum with Western prosperity. We -slept on the tables of the inn, on the bar, in the embrasures of the -windows, on the forms, on sacking on the floor--the kerosene lamp was -turned low, and nearly everyone snored. - -We were all up before dawn, and I accompanied an Ossetine miller who -was in search of flint for his mill, and we entered the Gorge of -Dariel whilst the stars were dim in the sky. It was a sharp wintry -morning, and as the road led ever upward and became ever narrower, -the wind was piercing. The leaking rocks of summer where often I had -made my morning tea were now grown old in the winter, and had wisps -of grey hair hanging down--yard-long icicles and thick tangles of -ice. The precipitously falling streams and waterfalls were ice-marble -stepping-stones from the Terek to the mountain-top. - -We entered the gorge by the little red bridge which, like a brace, -unites the two sides of the river at its narrowest point. The stars -disappeared. Somewhere the sun was rising, but his light was only in -the sky so far above. We beheld the green, primeval ruin of Nature, -the red-brown, grey, and green boulders of Dariel in varied immensity -and diversity of shape, the vast shingly, boulder-strewn wastes, the -adamantine shoulders of porphyry, the cold, ponderous immensities of -rock held over the daring little road, the river eddies springing like -tigers over the central ledges between fastnesses of ice. - -My Ossetine picked up various stones and struck them with his dagger -to see how well they sparked, and, having apparently found what he -wanted, accepted a lift in an ox-cart and returned back to the inn -at Larse. Perhaps it was too cold for him. I walked up to the square -cliff of Tamara and the tooth of the wall of the ancient castle where -Queen Tamara treacherously entertained strangers, making love to them -and feasting them, and then having them murdered; the castle where the -devil once arrived in the guise of such an unlucky wanderer--the scene -of the story of Lermontof’s “Demon.” - -This was once the frontier of Asia, and the romantic country of a -fine fighting people. To this day, despite railway projects and the -hope that the river may provide the Caucasus with electricity, Queen -Tamara’s castle remains almost the newest thing. It is modern beside -the antiquity and majesty of the ruin of Nature. Here the real world -seems to jut out through the green turf and flower-carpeted earth into -the light of day, striking us awfully, like the apparition of God the -Father coming up out of the bowers of Eden. You feel yourself in the -presence of something even older than mankind itself, and you wonder -what differences you would note if, with the goloshes of Fortune on -your feet, you could be transported back a thousand years, a second -thousand, a third thousand, and so on. What did the Ancients make of -this? They held that it was to the Kazbek mountain that Prometheus was -bound as a punishment for stealing fire from heaven. Was that what they -said when they first came fearfully through and discovered the plains -of the North? - -An ancient way! And then at the turn of it, the gate to the “Kremlin” -of Dariel, and the towering Kazbek lifting itself to the sky within. -Here is truly one of the most wonderful and romantic regions in the -world. But it was not to see the Kazbek that I made this journey, but -to find again a certain cave where years ago I found my companion on -the road, the place where we lived and slept by the side of the river. -It was there as I left it, familiar, calm, by the side of the running -river, glittering in the noon-day sun, and the granite boulders held -threads of ice and ice-pearls--the ear-rings of the rocks. And I would -have liked to meet my companion again. But Heaven knew under what part -of its canopy the tramp was wandering then. I felt a home-sickness to -be tramping again, and I decided that as soon as the snow and ice had -gone I would take to the road. - - * * * * * - -And so, the season having changed, and the cold winds and rains of -spring giving way to summer, I take the road once more into new -country. The season really changes when it is possible to sleep -comfortably out of doors. This year I go into the depths of the Russian -East, and, besides taking the adventures of the road, continue my -study of Easternism and Westernism in the Tsar’s Empire. I travel by -train to Tashkent, the limit of the railway, and then take the road, -with my pack on my back, through the deserts of Sirdaria and the Land -of the Seven Rivers towards the limits of Chinese Tartary and Pamir, -then along the Chinese frontier, north to the Altai mountains and the -steppes of Southern Siberia. This is a long, new journey--new for -English experience--because, until our entente with Russia, mutual -jealousy about the Indian frontier made it extremely difficult for -the Russian Government to permit observant and adventurous Englishmen -to wander about as I intend to do. Indeed, even now I may be stopped -and turned back from some forlorn spot seven or eight hundred miles -from a railway station, and then, perhaps, silence may engulf my -correspondence for a time. All things may happen; my papers may be -confiscated or lost in the post, or my progress may be stopped by -various accidents. In any case, I have official permission for my -journey, and the weather is fine. - -The old grandmother baked me a box of sweet cheesecakes (_vatrushki_), -Vassily Vassilitch brought me fruit and chocolate, another friend -brought three dozen cabbage pies--thus one always starts out for the -wilderness. We assembled in the grandmother’s sitting-room to say -good-bye. I am to beware of earthquakes, of snakes, of having much -money on my person, of being bitten by scorpions, of tigers, wolves, -bears, of occult experiences. - -“It is occult country,” said G----, teacher of mathematics in the “Real -School.” “You are likely to have occult adventures; some enormous -catacylsm is going to take place this summer. I don’t know what it is, -but I should advise you to get across this dangerous country as soon as -you can. Siberia is safe, and North Russia, but not Central Asia, and -not, as a matter of fact, Germany.” - -He had had a strange dream, and, being of occult preoccupation, -ventured on vague prophecy, which generally took the form of -earthquakes and catacylsms. When I met him in the autumn after my -journey, the great war with Germany had broken out, and I was inclined -to credit him with a true prophecy; but, with honest wilfulness, he was -still figuring out earthquakes and cataclysms to be, and would not have -it that the European conflagration was the fulfilment of his dream. - -Another friend is charmed with the idea that I am going to Bokhara, and -won’t I bring her home a silk scarf from the great bazaars? Another -is touched by the dream that I am realising. To him Central Asia is a -fairyland, and the Thian Shan mountains are not real mountains so much -as mountains in a book of legends. - -At last the old grandmother says: - -“All sit down!” - -And we sit, and are silent together for a few moments, then rise and -turn to the Ikon and cross ourselves. The grandmother marks me in the -sign of the Cross and blesses me, praying that I may achieve my journey -and come safely back, that no harm may overtake me, and that I may have -success. Then I pass to each of the others present and say “Good-bye.” -Vera, however, looks at me in such a way that I am sure she means that -she feels I shall never return. So I am bound to ask myself: Is not -this farewell a final farewell? Does not this Russian see something -that is going to happen to me? But she has been very kind to me, and -just at parting puts a beautiful Ikon-print into my hand, and I fix it -in the inside of the cover of my stiff map. - - * * * * * - -The train from Vladikavkaz wanders along the northern side of the -Caucasus, unable to find a pass over the mountains. The meadows as far -as eye can see are yellowed with cowslips. Now and then a derrick tells -that you are in the oil region, and in an hour or so the train steams -into the pavement-shed station that marks the weariness and mud of -Grozdny, capital of the North Caucasian oilfields. There is a breath of -salt air at Petrovsk, a few hours later, and you realise that you have -reached the Caspian shore. All night long the train runs along to Baku, -glad, as it were, to turn south at last and get round the Caucasus it -cannot cross. At Baku I change and take steamer across the Caspian Sea -to Krasnovodsk, on the salt steppes, but I have a whole day to wait in -the city. - -Ordinarily, you come to Baku to make money. There is nothing to tempt -you there otherwise. In windy weather you are blinded with clouds -of flying sand; in the heat of summer you are stifled with kerosene -odours. It is a commercial city without glamour. Though it boasts -several millionaires and is an important name in every financial -newspaper in the world, it has no public works, nothing by virtue of -which it can take its stand as a Western city. The working men are -very badly paid--that is, according to our Western standards--and -they do not obtain the few advantages of industrial civilisation that -ought to come to make up for dreary life and health lost. There is -a constant ferment amongst the labouring classes in the city, and -repeated strikes, even in war time. Baku, again, is one of the last -refuges of the horse tram and the kerosene street-lamp. It is only in -the eastern quarter that the town has charm. There you may see strings -of camels loping up the steep streets, panniers on their worn, furry -backs, Persians squatting between the panniers, contentedly bobbing up -and down with the movement of the beast. Or you may watch the camels -kneeling to be loaded, crying appealingly as the heavy burdens are put -on them, cumbrously lifting themselves again, hind-legs first, and -joining the waiting knot of camels already loaded. - -The great shopping place--the bazaar--is wholly Eastern, and even more -characteristic than in Russia proper. I feel how the bazaar and the -ways of the bazaar came to Russia from the East. As you go from stall -to stall you are besieged by porters holding empty baskets--they -want to be hired to walk behind you and carry your purchases as you -make them. Characters of the Arabian Nights, these; and yet in the -streets of Warsaw and Kief, and many other cities, those men in red -hats and brass badges, who sit on the kerb or on doorsteps waiting for -passers-by to hire them, are really the lineal Westernised descendants -of the tailor’s fifth brother--I think it was the fifth brother who was -a porter. - -In the harbour, at the pier where my boat is waiting, I watch the -Persian dockers working. Real slaves they are, working twelve hours a -day for 1s. 4d. (60 copecks). They have straw-stuffed pack carriers -on their backs, like the saddling of camels, and the rhythm of their -movement as they proceed with their burdens from the warehouse to the -ship is that of slavery. The name of slavery has gone, but the fact -remains. Still, the European is not awakened to pity. The Persians are -the human camels, work hardest of all the people of the East, and are -the least discontented. They are singing and crying and calling all the -time they work. The East slaves for the West, but still is not much -influenced by the West. It is not they who cause the strikes. - -Just before the time for my boat to leave another boat arrives from -Lenkoran, and out of it come a party of Persian men with carpet bags -slung across their shoulders, their wives in black veils, many-coloured -cloaks, and baggy cotton trousers, their children all carrying -earthenware pots. More labour available on the docks, more homes -occupied in the little houses that dot the eight-mile crescent of the -mountainous city of Baku. - -The boat leaves at nightfall. It is the _Skobelef_, a handsome steamer, -built in Antwerp in 1902. It must have been brought to the Caspian -along the waterways of Europe; an officer on board ventures the opinion -that it was brought to Baku in parts and fitted up there. A pleasant -ship, however it was brought--considerably superior to the ordinary -American lake-steamer, for instance. There were very few passengers, -and these lay down to sleep at once, fearing the storm that was -blowing, so I remained alone on deck and watched the retreating shore. -Leaving Europe for America, you sit up in the prow and look ahead, -over the ocean; at least, you do not sit and watch the Irish coast -disappear. But leaving Europe for Asia, you sit aft and watch her to -the last. And the retreating lights of Baku are the lights of Europe. - -The night is very dark and starless, and so the eight-mile semicircle -of lights is wonderful to behold; the handsome lanterns of the -pier, the lights of the esplanade, of the three variety theatres, -of the cinemas and shops, the thousands of sparks of homes on the -mountain-side. This is the real beginning of my journey, and it is very -thrilling; good to sit in the wind and feel the movement of the sea; -good to watch the many lighthouses turning red, then green, in the -night, and to pass within ten yards of a little lamp, just over the -surface of the sea, alternately going out and bursting into brightness -every thirty seconds. The lamp seems to say: “There is danger ... -there is danger,” and it whispers joyful intelligence to the heart. - -There is trouble on the water as we reach the open sea, and the boat -begins to roll, but it is still pleasant on the upper deck, and the -high wind is warm. - -The lights of Baku and Europe have been gradually erased. First to go -were the sparks of the homes on the mountain-side, then the lights of -the esplanade; the eight great lamps of the pier remain, and one by -one they disappear till there is only the great yellow-green flasher -that tells ships coming into the harbour just where Baku is. That also -disappears at last, and it begins to rain heavily. So I go down to my -berth to sleep. - -Next morning the wide green sea was sunlit and flecked with white -crests of turning waves. Looking out of a port-hole, I saw the bright -light of morning shining on the grey and accidental-looking mountains -of Asia. The boat was coming into Krasnovodsk. - - - - -II - -WHERE THE DESERT BLOSSOMS - - -Krasnovodsk is one of the hottest, most desert, and miserable places -in the world. The mountains are dead; there is no water in them. Rain -scarcely ever falls, and the earth is only sand and salt. Strange that -even there there is a season of spring, and little shrubs peep forth in -green and live three weeks or a month before they are finally scorched -up. I spent the day with a kind Georgian to whom I had a letter; a -shipping agent at the harbour. He was to have helped me, supposing the -local _gendarmerie_ should stop my landing. But by an amusing chance I -escaped the inspecting officer’s attention, and got into Transcaspia -without questions or passport-showing. One can never be quite sure of -passing, even when one’s papers are in order. The Russian Government -does not give a written passport for Central Asia, but transmits your -name to all the local authorities, and you have to trust, first, to -their having received your name and, second, to their agreeing that -the name received in its Russian spelling is the same as yours written -in English on your British passport. In the case of a name such as -mine, which is spelt one way and pronounced another, there is likely -to be difficulties. During my stay in Central Asia, moreover, I saw -my name spelt in the following cheerful ways--Grkhazkn, Groyansk, and, -of course, the inevitable Graggam, and on some occasions I had the -difficult task of persuading Russian officials that the names were one -and the same. Still, they were inclined to be lenient. - -The Georgian was very hospitable; he took me from the pier to his -house, behind six or seven wilted and tired acacia trees, gave me a -bedroom, bade the samovar and coffee for me; and I made my breakfast -and then slept the three hot hours of the day. In the evening he -brought up his other Caucasian compatriots from the settlement, a -little band of exiles, and we talked many hours to the tune of the -humming samovar. We talked of Vladikavkaz and the Kazbek beloved of -Georgians, and of my tramps and of mutual acquaintances in Caucasian -towns and villages, talked of ethics and politics, and the working man, -and of Russia, especially of modern Russia, with its bourgeois and the -evil town life. Mine host had almost Victorian-English sentiments, -did not like the slit skirt and Tango stocking--so evident in Baku, -did not know what women were coming to--despised the Russians for -their flirting and dancing and gay living, believed in quiet family -life as the foundation of personal happiness, and in Socialism as the -foundation of political blessedness. The lights of Europe had not quite -disappeared. - -As the train did not leave till twelve, we had a long and pleasant -evening, and when the time came to go mine host brought me a big bottle -of Kakhetian wine, and we all went together to the railway station. -I got my ticket, found my carriage. No commotion, no excitement, the -empty midnight train crept out of the station, over the salt steppes, -and I felt as if in the whole long train there was only myself. It -was very vexatious, leaving in the shadow of dark night when no -landscape was visible, but there was consolation in the fact that the -train accomplished no more than seventy-five miles before sunrise. -Next morning, directly I awakened, I looked out of the train, and -there before my gaze was the desert; yellow-brown sand as far as eye -could see, and on the horizon the enigmatical silhouette of a string -of camels, looking like a scrap of Eastern handwriting between earth -and heaven. A new sight in front of me, for I had never seen the -desert before, except, of course, in Palestine, where it is hardly -characteristic. The cliffs of Krasnovodsk had disappeared; the desert -was on either hand. I looked in vain for a house or a tree anywhere, -but I saw again, as at Krasnovodsk, Nature’s pathetic little effort -to make a home--an occasional yellow thistle in bloom, a wan pink in -blossom here and there on the sand. The train was going so slowly that -it seemed possible to step down on to the plain, pick a flower, and -return. - -Strange that the Russian Government should take railways over the -desert before it has developed its home trade routes! The Western mind -would find this railway almost inexplicable. You might almost take it -to be an elaborate game of make-believe. The train is scheduled in the -time-table among the fast trains, and yet at successive empty desert -stations stops 21, 31, 14, 6, 12, 12 minutes respectively, and takes -23 hours to traverse the 390 miles from Krasnovodsk to Askhabad, an -average rate of 17 miles an hour. The reason for this slowness lies, -perhaps, in the fact that the sleepers are not very well laid, and -would be dislodged if greater speed were attempted; and the stops at -the stations are impressive, indulge a Russian taste for getting out of -trains and having a look round, and also, incidentally, let the wild -natives know that the steam caravan is waiting for them if they want -to go. We stop longer at one of these blank desert stations than the -Nord express at Berlin or a Chicago express at Niagara. Russia is not -excited about loss of time. Time may be money in America; it is only -copper money in Russia, and it is more interesting to have a political -railway across the deserts of Asia than to help the fruit-growers of -Abkhasia or to functionise industrially the vast railwayless North. - -It is dull travelling, but hills at length appear--the lesser Balkans, -the greater Balkans; salt marshes give way to sandbanks--drifts of sand -heaped up and shaped by the wind like grey snowdrifts. The beautiful -curving lines of the sandbanks are wind runes. All this district was -once the bed of the Caspian Sea, or, rather, of an ocean which, it is -surmised, stretched on the one hand to beyond the Aral Sea, and on the -other to the Azof and the Black Sea. The mountains were islands or -shores or dangerous rocks in the sea. - -[Illustration: THE CENTRAL ASIAN RAILWAY: NEARING THE OXUS] - -When we had passed the Balkans the country improved _by bits_. -Suddenly, far away, a patch of green appeared, and one’s eye hailed it -as one at sea hails land. When the train drew nearer there came into -view a wonderful emerald square thick with young wheat, set in the -absolute grey and brown of the wilderness. This was the first irrigated -field. Soon a second and a third field appeared in blessed contrast and -refreshment. Out of the yellowish, cloudy sky the sun burst free, and I -remembered that it was the first of May. So May Day commenced for me. - -People began to appear at the stations, which up till then had been -desolate; stately Turkomans, wearing from shoulders to ankles red and -white _khalati_, bath-robes rather than dresses; Tekintsi, in hats -of white, brown or black sheepskin, hats as big and bigger than the -bearskins of our Grenadiers; fat, broad-lipped Kirghiz, with Mongolian -brows and rat-tail moustachios drooping to their close-cropped beards; -poor Bactrian labourers, in many colours; rich Persian merchants, in -sombre black. Many women stood at the stations with hot, just-boiled -eggs, with roast chickens, milk or koumis in bottles, even with pats of -butter, with samovars. And there were native boys with baskets heaped -full of _lepeshki_ (cakes of bread). Each station was provided with a -long barrier, and the women, in lines of twenty or thirty, stood behind -their wares and cried to the passengers. The many steaming samovars -were a welcome sight, and at the charge of a halfpenny I made myself -tea at one of them. - -The country steadily improved, and the train passed by fields along -whose every furrow little artificial streams were trickling, past -many more emerald wheatfields surrounded by big dykes. The yellow dust -of this desert needs only water to make it abundantly fertile; it is -not merely frayed rock and stone, as the sand of the seashore, but -an organic substance which has been settling from the atmosphere for -ages--the _lessovaya zemlya_. When we realise that there is of this -strange dust a coat deep enough to be a soil, we understand something -of the antiquity of the desert and the fact that, when we consider -geological history, our mind must range over millions of years, whereas -in thinking of the history of man we are almost aghast to think of -thousands of years. So the _leoss_ dust settles out of the clear air. -Incidentally, what else may not be settling out of the air into the -every-day of our world? The spring flowers show the richness of this -dust of the wilderness, for now behold the desert under the influence -of irrigation blooming as the rose. It does, indeed, actually blossom -with the rose, for I notice even on the fringe of the hopeless desert -the sweet-briar, and it is unusually lovely. At the new stations -little children appear, having in their hands little clusters of deep -crimson blossoms. Poppies now appear on the waste, irises, saxifrages, -mulleins, toadflax--the voice of a rich country crying in the midst of -the sand. Here it is literally true: - - Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, - And waste its sweetness on the desert air. - -[Illustration: THE CENTRAL ASIAN DESERT] - -By evening the train is running along the frontier of the north of -Persia, and every house has a garden of roses. A Persian silk -merchant, all in black, with a talisman of green jade hanging from -a gold chain round his neck, comes into my carriage, and prepares -to occupy the upper shelf. He is travelling all night to Merv, and -has brought a great bouquet of sweet-smelling, double roses into the -carriage. A knobbly-nosed, grey-faced, animal-eared, antediluvian old -sort, this Persian would not stay in my carriage because there was a -woman in it, but asked me to keep his place while he went and locked -himself in the empty women’s compartment next door. He left his black, -horn-handled, slender, leather-wrapped walking-stick behind--its -ferrule was of brass, and seven inches long. - -We reached Geok-Tepe, a great fortress of the Tekintsi, reduced by -Skobelef in 1881. At the railway station there is a room in which are -preserved specimens of all the weapons used in the fight. There are -also waxwork representations of a Russian soldier with his gun, and a -native soldier cutting the air with his semicircle of a sword. Many -passengers turned out to have a look at these things. It was sunset -time, and the west was glowing red behind the train, the evening air -was full of health and fragrance, the stars were like magnesium lights -in the lambent heaven, the young moon had the most wonderful place in -the sky, poised and throned not right overhead, but some degrees from -the zenith, as it were on the right shoulder of the night. - -It was an evening that touched the heart. At every station to Askhabad -the passengers descended from the train, and walked up and down the -platforms and talked. The morning of May Day had been blank and -dismal; the evening was full of gaiety and life. We reached Askhabad, -the first great city of Turkestan, about eleven o’clock at night, and -its platform presented an extraordinary scene. The whole forty-five -minutes of our stay it was crowded with all the peoples of Central -Asia--Persians, Russians, Afghans, Tekintsi, Bokharese, Khivites, -Turkomans--and everyone had in his hand, or on his dress, or in his -turban roses. The whole long pavement was fragrant with rose odours. -Gay Russian girls, all in white and in summer hats, were chattering -to young officers, with whom they paraded up and down, and they had -roses in their hands. Persian hawkers, with capacious baskets of pink -and white roses, moved hither and thither; immense and magnificent -Turkomans lounged against pillars or walked about, their bare feet -stuck into the mere toe-places they call slippers--they, too, held -roses in their fingers. In the third-class waiting-room was a line -of picturesque giants waiting for their tickets, and kept in order -meanwhile by a cross little Russian gendarme. Behind the long barrier, -facing the waiting train, stood the familiar band of women with -chickens and eggs, with steaming samovars and bottles of hot milk. They -had now candle lanterns and kerosene lamps, and the light glimmered -on them and on the steam escaping from the boiling water they were -selling. I walked out into the umbrageous streets, where triple lines -of densely foliaged trees cast shadow between you and the beautiful -night sky; in depths of dark greenery lay the houses of the city, with -grass growing on their far-projecting roofs, with verandas on which -the people sleep, even in May. But they were not asleep in Askhabad. -I stopped under a poplar and listened to the sad music of the Persian -pipes. In these warm, throbbing, yet melancholy strains the night of -North Persia was vocal--the night of my May Day. - -I returned to the station and bought a large bunch of pink and white -roses, and, as the second bell had rung, got back to my carriage, laid -my plaid and my pillow, and as the train went out I slipped away from -the wonderful city--to a happy dream. - - - - -III - -WONDERFUL BOKHARA - - -The promise of Persia was not fulfilled on the morrow after my train -left Askhabad. We turned north-east, and passed over the lifeless, -waterless waste of Kara-Kum, 100 miles of tumbled desert and loose -sand. At eleven in the morning the temperature was 80 in the -shade--each carriage in the train was provided with a thermometer--and -the air was charged with fine dust, which found its way into the train -despite all the closed windows and closed doors. Through the window -the gaze ranged over the utmost disorder--yellow shores, all ribbed as -if left by the sea, sand-smoking hillocks, hollows specked with faint -grasses where the marmot occasionally popped out of sight. At one point -on the passage across we came to mud huts, with Tekintsi standing by -them, and to a reach of the desert where a herd of ragged-looking -dromedaries were finding food where no other animal would put its nose. -Then we passed away into uninterrupted flowerless sandhills, all yellow -and ribbed by the wind. So, all the way to the red Oxus River. It is -called the Amu-Darya now, but it is the ancient Oxus, a fair, broad -stream at Chardzhui, but, from its colour, more like a river of red -size than of water. All the canals and dykes of the irrigation system -of the district flow with the red water of the river, and wherever the -water is conducted the desert blossoms like virgin soil. The river is -the sun’s wife, and the green fields are their children. - -Chardzhui, the port on the Oxus, is the point for embarkation for -Khiva. There is a small fleet of Government steamers plying between -the two cities, though it is comparatively difficult for travellers -on private business to obtain a passage on one of them. When first -this fleet was started there was some idea that Russia would use them -in her imperial warfare as she pushed south, but probably the vessels -have little military significance nowadays. For the rest, Chardzhui -is famous for its melons, which grow to the size of pumpkins and are -very sweet. Frequently in Petrograd shops or in fashionable restaurants -one may see enormous melons hanging from straps of bast--these are the -fruits of Chardzhui. At this season of the year Chardzhui has a great -deal of mud and does not invite travellers, especially as its inns are -bad. - -The train entered the Russian Protectorate of Bokhara, and the -population changed. From Askhabad the natives had special cattle-trucks -afforded them, and they sat on planks stretched over trestles; they -were Sarts, Bokharese, Jews, Afghans. Into my carriage came two -Mohammedan scholars going to Bokhara city. They washed their hands, -spread carpets on one side of the carriage, knelt on the other, said -their prayers, prostrated themselves. Then they took out a copy of the -Koran, and one read to the other in a sonorous and poetical voice all -the way to the city--they were Sarts, a very ancient tribe of Aryan -extraction, some of the finest-looking people of Central Asia, tall, -dignified, wrinkled, wearing gorgeous cloaks and snowy turbans. The two -in my carriage had, apparently, several wives in another compartment, -as they each carried a sheaf of tickets. The women hereabout were very -strictly in their _charchafs_. There was no peeping out or peering -round the corner, such as one sees in Turkey, but an absolute black, -blotting out of face and form. When you looked at five or six sitting -patiently side by side, each and all in voluminous green cloaks, and -where the faces should appear a black mask the colour and appearance of -an oven-shelf, you felt a horror as if the gaze had rested on corpses -or on the plague-stricken. - -From the Oxus valley the people swarmed in a populous land, and it was -a sight to see so many Easterns drinking green tea from yellow basins. -Already we were nearer China than Russia, and the sight took me back in -memory to Chinatown, New York, and the _chop suey_ restaurants. I fell -into conversation with a Tartar merchant in carpets, and I tried to -obtain an idea of what Bokhara was like in the year of grace 1914. - -“Is there an electric tramway in Bokhara, or a horse tramway?” - -“No, nothing of the sort. The streets are so narrow, two carts can’t -pass one another without collision.” - -“Are there any hotels?” - -“There are caravanserai.” - -“No European buildings?” - -“Only outside the town. There is a Russian police-station, and a hotel -built for officials. The Emir won’t allow any hotels to be built within -the walls.” - -At length we reached New Bokhara, the Russian town, with its white -houses, avenues of trees, its broad streets, and shops, and we changed -to a by-line for Ancient Bokhara. The train drew through pleasant -meadows and cornfields, bright and fertile as the South of England, -and after twelve sunny versts we came into view of the cement-coloured -mud walls of the most wonderful city of Mohammedan Asia, a place that -might have been produced for you by enchantment--that reminds you -of Aladdin’s palace as it must have appeared in the desert to which -the magician transported it. Within toothed walls--a grey Kremlin -eight miles round--live 150,000 Mohammedans, entirely after their own -hearts, without any appreciable interference from without, in narrow -streets, in covered alleys, with endless shops, behind screening walls. -The roads are narrow and cobbled, and wind in all directions, with -manifold alleys and lanes, with squares where stand handsome mosques, -with portals and stairways leading down to the cool and tree-shaded, -but stagnant, little reservoirs that hold the city’s water. Along -the roadway various equipages come prancing--muddy _proletkas_, -unhandy-looking, egg-shaped carts, with clumsy wooden wheels eight -feet high, and projecting axles, gilt and crimson-covered carts made -of cane and straw, the shape of a huge egg that has had both ends -sliced off. The Bek, or Bokharese magistrate, comes bounding along -in his carriage, with outriders, and all others give him salute as he -passes. It is noticeable that the drivers of vehicles prefer to squat -on the horses rather than sit in drivers’ seats. Strings of laden -camels blunder on the cobbles, innumerable Mohammedans come, mounted -on asses--it is clear that man is master when you see an immense -Bokharese squatting on a meek ass and holding a huge cudgel over its -head. Charchaffed women are even seen on asses, and some of them carry -a child in front of them. There are continually deadlocks in the narrow -lanes, and all the time the drivers shout “_Hagh, hagh!_” (“Get out of -the way, get out of the way!”) - -[Illustration: BOKHARA: THE ESCORT OF A MAGISTRATE] - -The houses are made of the ruins of bygone houses, of ancient tiles and -mud. They have fine old doors of carven wood, but no windows looking on -the streets. A sort of inlaid cupboard, with a glass window, half open, -a spread of wares, and a Moslem sitting in the midst, is a shop. Thus -sits the vendor of goods, but also the maker--the tinsmith at work, -the coppersmith, the maker of hats. The bazaars are rich and rare, and -in the shadow of the covered streets--there are fifty of them--the -lustrous silks and carpets, and pots and slippers, in the shops each -side of the way, have an extraordinary magnificence; the gorgeous -vendors, sitting patiently, not asking you to buy, staring at the heaps -of metallics, silver-bits and notes resting on the little tabourets -in front of them, belong to an age which I thought was only to be -found in books. What a wealthy city it is! It offers more silks and -carpets for sale than London or Paris; it is an endless warehouse of -covetable goods. - -What strikes you at Jerusalem or Constantinople is the abundance -of English goods for sale, but here at Bokhara there is a strange -absence of Western commodities. Formerly the English sent all sorts of -manufactures by the caravan road from India, but since the Russians -ringed round their Customs system the commercial influence of England -has waned. Western goods come via Russia. What European articles there -are come from Germany or Scandinavia. For the rest, as in other Eastern -cities, the street arabs hawk churek-cakes and _lepeshki_; men in white -sit at corners selling, in this case, _Bokharese_ delight, brown twists -of toffee, old-fashioned sugar-candy which in piles looks like so much -rock crystal. Beggars in rags sit outside the mosques and hold up to -you Russian basins--they do not, however, cry and clamour and follow -you, as in the tourist-visited cities of Asia Minor and North Africa. -Outside every other shop is a bird-cage and a large pet bird; in some -cases falcons, much prized in these lands. I admired the falcons, and -their owners seemed childishly pleased at the attention I gave them. -I gave a piece of Bokharese silver to a beggar outside a mosque (the -Bokharese have their own silver coinage, which, however, looks like -ancient coin rather than any which is now in use). In one of the big -shadowy bazaars I bought a delicious silk scarf of old-rose colour full -of light and loveliness, falling into a voluminous grandeur as the -melancholy Eastern showed it me. I did not bargain about its price, -that seemed almost impossible, only five roubles (ten shillings), and -the lady who has it now says it is enough to make a whole robe. Somehow -I liked it better as a scarf than I could if it were “made up.” - -I passed out of the city and walked round the walls. A road encompasses -them, and on the road are camels with blue beads on their necks and -many Easterns riding them. There is a strange feeling of contrast in -being outside the city. The arc of the grey walls goes gradually round -and away from you, surrounding and enclosing the life of the city; the -city is like a magical box full of strange magicians and singers and -toy shop-men and customers; it is like a strange human beehive full -of life. And outside the walls there is the sudden contrast of fresh -air and space and life and greenery and broad sky. Inside the city -the streets are so narrow that you feel the “box” has got the lid on. -Someone said to me when I went to New York: “We’ll give you the freedom -of the city with the lid off.” Well, Bokhara has the lid _on_. And -you feel that certainly when you get outside and look at the silent, -significant enclosing wall. But the fields are deep in verdure, and it -is like a lovely June day in England--the willow leaning lovingly over -you, overwhelmed with leaves. The walls are battlemented, rent, patched -up, buttressed; there are eleven gates, and at each gate the traffic -going in and out has a processional aspect. Along the walls, between -gate and gate, there is a deep and gentle peace. No sound comes through -the walls; they are broad and high and solid. The swallows nesting -there twitter. You cannot obtain a glimpse, even of the high mosques -within. - -I entered the city once more, lost myself in its mazes, and was obliged -to take a native cab in order to get out again. I was living outside -the town in an inn specially built for men on Government service. I -got the last empty room. Pleasant it was to lie back in the sun and be -carried along twenty wonderful streets and lanes, seeing once more all -I had seen before of colour and Orientalism. - -The Bokharese are a gentle people. They wear no weapons. They sit -in the grass market and chatter and smile over their basins of tea. -The little pink doves of the streets search between their bare feet -for crumbs. The wild birds of the desert build in the walls of their -houses and bazaars. On the top of the tower of every other mosque is -an immense storks’ nest, overlapping the turret on all sides. Some of -these nests must be eight to ten feet high; they are round, and so look -like part of the design of the architecture. Storks are encouraged to -build there by the Mohammedans, by whom they are held sacred. It is -pleasant to watch the bird itself, standing on one leg, a black but -living and moving silhouette against the sky; to listen to the clatter -of bills when the father stork suddenly flies down to a nest with food. - -Bokhara is a sort of Mussulman perfection--there is no progress to -be obtained there except after the destruction of old forms. The -Bokharese keep to the forms of their religion and its ethical laws; -they wear their clothes correctly; they know their crafts. They are a -great contrast to the Russians, who are careless and inexact, and in -their worship often nonchalant to their God; to the Russians, who wear -nothing correctly and come out in almost any sort of attire; to the -Russians, so ignorant and clumsy in their crafts. Yet Russia has all -before her, and Bokhara has all behind her. - -The Bokharese have no ambition; civilisation and mechanical progress -do not tempt them. They have a happy smile for everything that comes -along, but nothing moves them. A Russian motor-car comes bounding over -the cobbles, whooping and coughing its alarm signals; a score of dogs -try to set on it and bite it as it passes, and the natives sit in their -cupboard shops and laugh. If the car stops, they do not collect round -it, as would a village of Caucasian tribesmen, for instance. There was -one Bokharian--a Sart, in full cloak and turban--who rode a bicycle, an -astonishing exception. - -[Illustration: OUTSIDE ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS OF THE MOSQUES] - -The Russians at present hold Bokhara very lightly, but will no doubt -tighten their hands on it later, as they are taking the solidification -of their Central Asian Empire very seriously. At present there are no -passports, and there is mixed money; but passports are coming in, and -the banks are taking up all the ancient Sartish bits they can get and -giving Russian silver in exchange. There are several Russian banks -within the city walls, and they have a great influence. The Emir is -friendly towards Russia, and is a pompous figure at the Russian Court, -though it is rumoured that in his native palaces he whiles the long -empty day away by playing such elementary card games as _durak_, snap, -and happy family. The Russians have permission to build schools in the -city, and the Russian bricklayer is to be seen at work with trowel -and line, whilst the native navvy carries the hod to and fro. The -foreign goods in the bazaar are mostly cotton, and if you examine the -splendidly gay prints that go to form the clothing of the natives you -find it is all marked Moscow manufacture. The Bokharese merchants go -to Nizhni Fair not only to sell, but to buy. There are no English in -the streets, no tourists, no Americans. Indeed, I asked myself once in -wonder: Where are the Americans? The only people in Western attire are -commercial travellers (_commerçants_), and they are mostly Russians or -Armenians, though Germans are occasionally to be seen. I noticed knots -of these men discussing prices of horsehair, wool, oil-cake, carpets, -silks. It should be remembered that that district is more justly famous -for its carpets than for its silks. The best carpets in the world are -made by the Tekintsi. Armenians, Turkomans and Persians work in whole -villages and settlements in Transcaspia making carpets with needle and -loom. They have the original tradition of carpet-making, a sense for -the particular art of weaving those wonderful patterns of Persia, and -for them a carpet is not a covering on which it could be possible to -imagine a man walking with muddy boots; it is for dainty naked feet in -the harem, or it is a whole picture to be hung on a wall, not thrown -on the floor. Singer’s sewing machines are, of course, installed at -Bokhara; they are in every town in the wide world. The cinema also has -come, and a green poster announces that the Tango will be shown after -the presentation of a striking comedy called “The Suffragette.” - -But what does this really matter? Let us ask the deliberate stork, -standing on one leg on the height of the mosque of Lava-Khedei. The -mosque tower has a clock, and the stork seems to be trying to read the -time. But he will give no answer, nor will the Mussulmans below; they -also are scanning the wall to see if it is nearer the hour to pray. And -the clock, be it observed, is not set by Petrograd time. - - - - -IV - -MOHAMMEDAN CITIES AND MOHAMMEDANISM - - -The consideration of the wonderful Moslem cities, Constantinople, -Cairo, Jerusalem and Bokhara, with their marvellous blending of -colours, their characteristic covered ways and bazaars, their great -spreads of lace and silk and carpets, slippers, fezes, turbans, copper -ware, their gloomy stone ways and close courts, their blind houses, -made windowless that their women be not seen, their great mosques and -splendid tombs, inevitably suggests a great question of the East. What -is Mohammedanism, what does it mean? At Cairo and Jerusalem, and even -at Constantinople, it is possible to doubt the real nature of the -Moslem world; it seems a makeshift world giving way readily to Western -influence, or, in any case, reproved by the more splendid and vital -institutions of the West standing side by side with many shabby and -wretched phenomena of the East. - -But Bokhara is a perfect place. It is much more remote even than Delhi, -and is almost untouched, unaffected by Western life. It is a city of -a dream, and if a magician wished to transport some modern Aladdin -to a fairy city, where there would be nothing recognisable and yet -everything would be beautiful and bewildering, he need only bring him -to the walls of Bokhara. Through Bokhara and its undisturbed peace -and beauty, one obtains a new vision of Mohammedanism, and it becomes -absurd to think that the real Moslem world is of the same pattern as -the Westernised and yet strangely picturesque cities with which we are -familiar. We remember the fact that there are so many millions more -Mohammedans than there are Christians, that they live off the railways, -in deserts, in far away and remote cities, that they journey on camels -and in caravans, and that to them their religion and way of life are -sufficient, that they do not seek new words or inspiration, nor do -they want time to do other things, nor change of any kind. We remember -their mystery, their faith and loyalty, their superb detachment, their -state of being enough unto themselves, their playfulness, audacity, -hospitality, how they shine compared with Christians in the keeping -of the conventions of their religion, their punctual piety, their -pilgrimages, and, with all that, their fixed and definite inferiority -of caste. - -[Illustration: A HOLIDAY AT SAMARKAND: BOYS OF THE MILITARY SCHOOL -PLAYING AMONG THE RUINS OF THE TOMB OF TAMERLANE] - -Their pilgrimage to Mecca, which we are apt to regard merely as -something picturesque, is in reality one of the most mysterious of -human processions. From Northern Africa, from Syria, from Turkey and -Armenia, from Turkestan, from the Chinese marches (there are even -Chinese Mohammedans, the Duncani), from India, from the depths of -Arabia and Persia--to Mecca. Through Russia alone there travel annually -considerably more Moslems to Mecca than there do Christian pilgrims -to Jerusalem; and some of these Mohammedan pilgrims are the most -outlandish pilgrims. They are illiterate, simple, unremarked. They -do not possess minds which could understand our modern Christian -missionaries, and Russia, at least, has no desire to proselytise among -them. If the peoples of the world could be seen as part of a great -design of embroidery on the garment of God, it would probably be seen -that Mohammedanism at the present moment is part of the beauty of the -pattern and the amazing labyrinthine scheme. It is not a rent, not a -disfigurement. - -Mahomet and the Mohammedans is not a subject to dismiss, and when we -look at those wondrous cities of the East it is worth while remembering -that we are looking at a new image and superscription, and are in -the presence of people who own a different but none the less true -allegiance. As upon one of the planets we might come across a different -race that had not had, and could not have, our revelation. - -Our prejudice as militant Christians, however, ought necessarily to be -against Mohammedans. They have ever been our religious enemies in arms, -the Saracens, the Paynim, the Tartar hordes; we are not very amicably -disposed to those of our argumentative brothers who, to show their -independence of thought, say they prefer Mohammedanism or Buddhism or -Confucianism or what not. - -In reading Carlyle’s “Heroes and Hero-worship” there is a haunting -feeling that it was a pity that for the “Hero as Prophet” he chose -Mahomet and not Jesus, or that, choosing Mahomet, he had not travelled -in Mohammedan countries, investigating his subject more thoroughly -and giving a truer picture of the significance of Mohammedanism and -of the man who founded it. The Mahomet section of “Heroes” is like a -note that does not sound. Heading the lecture over again, one is struck -with a new fact about Carlyle--his insularity of intelligence. Despite -the fact that he is preoccupied with French and German history, you -notice his narrowness of vision, or perhaps it is that the general -vision of the world which men have now was not so accessible in his -day, and the differences in national psychology now manifest were -hidden in obscurity then. Carlyle saw mankind as Scotsmen, and all -true religion whatsoever as a sort of Southern Scottish Puritanism. -He saw all national destinies in one and the same type, without any -conception of fundamental differences of soul. He admired the Germans, -and the Germans adopted him and his works. And he disliked the French -because so few of them had that “fixity of purpose” and “manliness,” -“thoroughness,” “grim earnestness” of his compatriots. Russia was a -very vague country, but Carlyle approved of the Tsar, dimly discerning -in him one who must have something in common with Cromwell or -Frederick the Great, “keeping by the aid of Cossack and cannon such -a vast empire together.” And the further his imagination ranges the -more do his notions of foreign peoples and races fail to correspond -with his patterns of humanity. Among the many other destinies which -Carlyle might have had and lived through, one can imagine one wherein -he travelled, and found in real life what he sought in museums and -libraries. He would have been a wonderful traveller, and would have -known and shown more of the verities and mysteries of the world than he -was able to do through the medium of history. - -Carlyle’s Mahomet is an example of old-fashioned visions. It is clear -now that this “deep-hearted Son of the Wilderness, with his beaming -black eyes and open social deep soul,” was not that determined, -conscientious British sort of character that he is made out to be, nor -has Mohammedanism that Cromwellian earnestness which Carlyle imputed to -it. - -It is impossible to find in the Moslem soul “the infinite nature of -duty,” but we would not explain the “gross sensual paradise” and the -“horrible flaming hell” of the Mohammedans by saying that to them -“Right is to Wrong as life is to death, as heaven to hell. The one -must nowise be done, the other in nowise be left undone.” Mahomet and -Mohammedanism are not explainable in these terms. - -Probably the most common assumption in the West is that Mohammedanism -does not count. In its adherents it greatly outnumbers Christianity, -but not even those who believe that the will of majorities should -prevail would recognise the Mohammedan majority. For though more -warlike than we, they have not our weapons, and though they are finer -physically, they have not our helps to Nature, nor our civilisation, -nor our passion. They are apart, they are scarcely human beings in our -Western sense of the term, and are negligible. Still, Mohammedanism -is an extraordinary portent in the world. The Mohammedans, those -many millions, are not merely potential Christians, a set of people -remaining in error because our missionary enterprise is not sufficient -to bring them to the Light. It is not an accident, or a makeshift -religion, but evidently a happy form suitable to the millions who -embody it. It is a poetically fitting religion, part of the very fibre -of the people who have it, and it cannot easily be got rid of or -supplanted. - -As enthusiastic Christians we consider the Moslem world with some -vexation; some of us even with malice and a readiness to take arms -against it. But as pleasure-seeking tourists and worldly men and women, -we rather love the Turk and the Arab for his “picturesqueness,” for the -picturesqueness of his religion. As sportsmen, we love him because he -has the reputation of fighting well. - -[Illustration: MOHAMMEDAN TOMBS AND RUINS IN THE YOUNGEST OF THE -RUSSIAN COLONIES] - -It was with a certain amount of dissatisfaction that I fell into the -hands of an Arab guide when I was in Cairo, and was shown, first -of all, the picturesque mosques so beloved of tourists--the Mosque -of Sultan Hassan, the Alabaster Mosque, and so on. Not the ancient -Egyptian remains, which are the most significant thing in Egypt; not -the Early Christian ruins, which are most dear to us (the old Christian -monasteries which the Copts possess seemed to be known by none), but -the mosques made of the stolen stones of the Pyramids and of the tombs, -and inlaid with the jewels taken from ikon frames and rood-screens of -the first churches of Christianity. And as I listened to the details of -the blinding of the architects, the destruction of the Mamelukes, -the fighting and the robbing, the disparaging thought arose: “They are -all a pack of robbers, these Mohammedans.” - -They are robbers by instinct, and non-progressive not only in life, but -in ideas. But they are picturesque, and have given to a considerable -portion of the earth’s face a characteristic quaintness and beauty. -They cannot be dismissed. - -Carlyle tries to see some light in the Koran, and fails. Probably the -Koran is translated in a wrong spirit or to suit a British taste. But -obviously it is meant to be chanted, and it is full of rhythms with -which we are unfamiliar, as unfamiliar as we are with the sobbing, -plaintive, screaming music that is melody in the Moslem’s ears. The -soul of the Koran is not like the soul of the Bible, just as the soul -of a mediæval Christian city such as Florence or Rome is unlike Khiva -or Bokhara or Samarkand, just as the souls of our eager mystical -populations are different from the souls of those simple, satisfied -and fatalistic people. It is not easy to communicate the difference by -words; it is not merely a difference in clothes. It is a difference -in the spirit, a difference in the spirit that causes the expression -to be different, whether that expression be clothes, or houses, or -cities, or way of life, or music, or literature, or prayer. And while -our expression changes, theirs remains the same. Our spirit remains the -same, theirs remains the same, but only with us does the expression -change. - -“God is great; we must submit to God,” is Mohammedan wisdom. It is in -a way a common ground--we must submit. But with the Mohammedan there -is a waiting for God’s will to be shown, whereas with us rather a -divination of it in advance. We are alive to find out what God wills -for us. After “Thy will be done!” we put an exclamation mark and -rejoice. Mohammedanism is fatalism, but Christianity is not fatalism. - -And if fatalism gives a tinge of melancholy to life, especially to an -unfortunate life, it still makes life easier. It relieves the soul -of care and takes a world of responsibility off the shoulders. The -Mohammedan is a care-free being. He has, more than we have, the life of -a child. - -Consequently, one of the greatest characteristics of Mohammedan people -is playfulness. All is play to them. They are playful in their attire, -in their business, in their fighting, in their talking. They buy and -sell, and make a great game of their buying and selling. They lack -“seriousness.” They are in no hurry to strike a bargain and get ahead -in trade. Their instinct is for the game rather than for the business. -Hence the comparative poverty of the Tartars--the most commercial -people of the East. They are not serious enough to get rich in our -Western way. If they would get really rich as a Western merchant is -rich, they must not waste time playing and haggling. They fight well -because they see the game in fighting. Death is not so great a calamity -to them as to us, for life is not such a serious thing. They look on -playfully at suffering, and laugh to see men’s limbs blown away by -bombs. They like the gamble of modern warfare. And, of course, they -were warriors and robbers before they were Mohammedans. Fighting is -one of their deepest instincts, and as they do not change with time -as we do, they have an almost anachronistic love of battle. They are -fond of weapons as of toys, fingering blades and laughing, guffawing at -the sight of cannon. They love steamboats and battleships as children -love toy steamboats, and they sail them on the waters of the Levant as -children would their toys. Their hospitality is mirthful, as are also -their murders and their massacres. Their heaven and hell are playful -conceptions. - -The condition of their remaining children is obedience to the simple -laws of their religion. These obeyed, they are free of all troubles. -And they obey. Hence, from Delhi to Cairo and from Kashgar to -Constantinople, a playful and sometimes mischievous and difficult -world. Looking at the great cities, with their quaint figures and -their chaffering, their elfish spires and minarets, their covered ways -and gloomy and mysterious passages; looking at this city of Bokhara, -with its covered ways crowded with these children-merchants and -children-purchasers, their beggars, tombs, shrines, we must remember it -is all a children’s contrivance, something put together by a people who -do not grow up and do not grow serious as we do--mysterious yet simple, -fierce yet childlike, valorous and yet amused by suffering, Islam, the -enemy of the Church in arms, to this day. - - - - -V - -THE HISTORY OF THE TRIBES - - -From Bokhara I proceeded to Samarkand, the grave of Timour. Turkestan -has four great cities remaining in splendour from the most remote -times--Bokhara, Khiva, Samarkand, and Tashkent. Alexander the Great -conquered most of this territory and established himself at Samarkand -for winter quarters, but there are few traces of Alexander to-day. -In his day the land was inhabited by tribes who had come out of the -Pamir--Persians, Indians, Tadzhiks. There were also primeval nomads, -with their tents and their herds, a people something like the Jews when -they were simply the Children of Israel, when they were a _family_. -There were possibly hordes of Jews, as there were hordes of Tartars and -Mongols. At the time of the shepherd dynasty of Egypt the peoples of -the East were living in patriarchal families, resembling in a way the -families of the Kirghiz in Central Asia to-day. - -For the ethnologist Central Asia is necessarily one of the most -interesting districts of the world, and its inhabitants are like living -specimens in a great ethnological museum. The races there tell us more -about the past of the world in which we are interested than any pages -in the history book. Here we may feel what the Children of Israel were, -the Egyptians, the Syrians, the Persians, the Turks, the Russians. -We see the destiny of Rome, the destiny of the Church of Christ, of -Christianity, of barbarism. - -Not that there are many pure or clear types of historical races in -Central Asia to-day. The land has been a running ground for fierce -tribes coming out of China and Manchuria, coming from the mysterious -and vague regions of the Pamir and Thibet. The Kirghiz to-day exhibit -every shade of difference between the Mongol and the Turk. - -After the Greeks of Alexander came the first ferocious Huns. To the -Greeks what is now Russia and Siberia, Seven Rivers Land and Russian -Central Asia was vaguely Scythia. They fumbled northward and eastward -as in a great darkness, and they were rather afraid to go on. Yet we -know that even before the records of Greek history there was an Eastern -trade on the Volga and from the Caspian to the Baltic. The merchants -of Persia and India traded with the Russia of those days. The Persians -ruled from the Oxus to the Danube, and in the wilderness stretching -from the Oxus to the Great Wall of China dwelt the primeval nomads. - -South of the Altai Mountains was the fount of the mysterious Huns who, -some centuries before the birth of Christ, ravaged China to the Pacific -and extended their dominion northward, down the Irtish River to the -_tundra_ of the Arctic Circle. These were not a Mongol people, but -Turkish, though eventually they were beaten by the Tartars, and the -Mongolian and Turkish tended to blend. The reason for their turning -westward was an eventual failure against China. The Chinese built -their fifteen-hundred-mile wall against the Huns, but the wall did -not avail them; they were beaten, and were forced to pay an enormous -tribute of silk, gold, and women. Then the Chinese reorganised their -armies, turned upon their enemies, and crushed them. Their monarch -became a vassal of the Emperor. Fifty-eight hordes entered the service -of China--a horde was about four thousand men. The remainder of the -Huns, coming to the conclusion that China was too strong for them, -resolved to fight somewhere else, and set off westward towards the Oxus -and the Volga. They expended themselves on the eastern shores of the -Volga, where they remain to this day as the Kalmeeks. Visitors to the -Southern Ural and the district of Astrakhan will have pointed out to -them the Kalmeeks, a low-browed, broad-nosed type of men, sun-browned, -wizened, and squat, the ugliest in Russia; these are the original Huns, -ferocious in their day, very peaceful and stupid now, and below even -the level of the Kirghiz in intelligence. - -The chief Turkish tribes to-day are the Yakuts, on the Lena, the -Kirghiz, the Uzbeks, of whom there are a considerable number in Bokhara -and Khiva, the Turkomans, and Osmanli, the Turks themselves, and they -have all something of the Hun about them. Their history is Hunnish -history. A deformed and brutal people were the hordes of the Huns; -there were many cripples among them and people of distorted features, -many dwarfs. They were the cruellest people that have ever been, and -probably that is why they have such a name for ugliness. Cruelty and -ugliness of feature go together. Even the most refined torturers of the -Spanish Inquisition must have been ugly. There is something terrifying -in the aspect of cruelty. It is an aspect of mania, and when it comes -out in the race must be called racial mania or aberration. - -Successive hordes of pagans rolled forward, and the story of each -forward movement of this kind is the same. Each wave, however, seemed -to roll farther than the one before and gather in power and volume to -the point where it multitudinously broke. The Asiatic heathen were soon -over the Volga and across Russia; it was they who set the North German -tribes moving and gave an impetus to the plundering and ransacking of -the Western world. They astonished even the Goths by their ferocity and -ugliness, and in A.D. 376 the Goths had to appeal to the Romans for -protection. The Emperor Valens delayed to answer, and a million Goths -crossed the Danube and began the conquest of Roman territory. The Huns -joined with the Alani, a wild Finnish tribe supposed by some to be the -present Ossetini of the Northern Caucasus, and together they obtained -glimpses of the splendour of the South and came into touch with the -people who would ultimately give them their religion--the Saracens. - -Away in the background of Central Asia, however, Mongol tribes were -falling on those Huns who had remained behind and ever setting new -hordes going westward, and the impact from China was felt all the -way to Germany, and hordes of barbarians began to appear before the -gates of Rome itself. Soon the Goths burned the capital of the world -(A.D. 410). A quarter of a century later the Huns found a new leader -in Attila (A.D. 438-453), and became once more the scourge and terror -of all existent civilisation. The Huns of Attila were not just the -old Huns who came out of Mongolia and fought with the Chinese, but a -mixture of all the Turkish tribes of the East. They worshipped the -sword, stuck in the ground, and prayed before it as others prayed -before the Cross. Attila claimed to have discovered the actual sword -of the God Mars, and through the possession claimed dominion over the -whole world. He conquered Russia and Germany, Denmark, Scandinavia, -the islands of the Baltic. He crushed the Chinese and Tartars who -were afflicting the rearguard of his nation in the depths of Asia, -negotiating on equal terms with the Emperor of China. He traversed -Persia and Armenia and what is now Turkey in Asia, broke through to -Syria, and, in alliance with the Vandals, took possession of “Africa.” -His followers crossed the Mediterranean, devastating the cities of -Greece, Italy, and Gaul. Rome abandoned her Eastern Empire to the -Huns in A.D. 446; and, after Attila’s death, the Vandals, a people of -Slavonic origin, sacked Rome once more. Western civilisation seemed to -be extinguished, and a barbarian became King of Italy. - -[Illustration: A MOHAMMEDAN FESTIVAL AT SAMARKAND--THE HOUR OF PRAYER] - -What was happening in Central Asia is but vaguely known. The people who -lived on the horse at the time of Herodotus still lived on the horse -as they do at this day, on mare’s milk, koumis, and horseflesh, -camping amidst great herds of horses, the same breed as the Siberian -ponies which the Cossacks ride now. There were feuds of the hordes, -raids, massacres; the Chinese are said to have attempted to introduce -Buddhism, though without much success. There was much intermarriage of -Turks and Mongols. On the other hand, the conquering Huns returned with -wives of the races of the West, and with a smattering of Western ideas, -bringing even with them the name of Christianity, and some Christian -ideas. Christians began to appear in the ranks of the pagans. - -In the seventh century Mahomet was born, and the characteristic -religion of the East took its start, and was soon conquering adherents -by the sword; armies of Arabs and Semitic tribes, initiating the -propaganda of Islam, conquered Persia, Syria, and portions of Northern -Africa and of Spain. In the eighth century they crossed the Oxus, drove -hordes of Huns back into the depths of Asia, captured the rich cities -of Bokhara and Samarkand, and made Mohammedans of all the people all -the way to the Indus. So Uzbeks and Turkomans and Kirghiz and Afghans -and the others obtained a religion which suited their temperament, and -there was comparative peace and trade throughout all Turkestan and -Persia for many a long year. The next great disturbance was caused by -the ferment of the Tartars and the mongrel Mongolian Huns, which came -to a head under the leadership of Chingiz Khan (A.D. 1206-1227), who -was the next conqueror of the world springing out of Asia. He made -for himself an enormous empire, extending from the Sea of Japan to the -River Nieman in Germany, and from the _tundras_ of the Arctic Circle to -the wastes of India and Mesopotamia. There were in his army idolaters -and Judaic, Mohammedan, and Christian converts. He was the Emperor of -the “Moguls”--the word Mogul is the same as Mongol. Among his feats -he laid siege to Pekin, and starved the Chinese to such a point that -they were forced to kill and eat every tenth man within the city. He -conquered Bokhara and Samarkand again, crushed the Russians and the -Poles, took Liublin and Cracow, and, at the battle of Lignitz, defeated -the Germans, filling nine sacks with the right ears of the slain. -Because of Chingiz Khan all Western Europe trembled. - -The manners of the hordes of Chingiz Khan and his successors were very -like the manners of the old Huns, and they also brought their flocks -with them, and lived on roast sheep and roast horse and koumis as the -majority of the dwellers of Central Asia seem to have ever lived. - -The splendour of the successors of Chingiz Khan decayed, and Russia and -the East gasped and waited till Asia produced another monster--a new -conqueror of the world. In the fourteenth century he arose, the worst -of all, Tamerlane the Great, called Timour the Lame, who conquered -everything that had ever been conquered before by Tartar or Hun. -Under him Mohammedanism reached a great splendour and came nearest to -world-domination. - -[Illustration: CENTRAL ASIAN JEWESSES] - -Both Bokhara and Samarkand fell to Tamerlane. He conquered great -stretches of Persia, Syria, Turkey, the Caucasus, India, Russia and -Siberia, besieged Moscow and Delhi in two successive years, dethroned -twenty-seven kings, harnessed kings to his chariot instead of horses. - -I spent the May of this year in what is particularly the land of -Tamerlane, a sort of Russian India on the northern side of Hindu Kush, -a country with a majestic past but with little present. Tamerlane -the Tartar was once Emperor of Asia, and a potentate of greater fame -than Alexander. At the head of the Tartar hordes he conquered all the -nations of the East and ravaged every land, committing everywhere -deeds of splendour and of barbaric cruelty. The cruelty that is in -the Cossack and the Russian, and the taste for barbaric splendour, -comes directly from his Tartars. But the greatness of the Tartars -has passed away--they are all tradesmen and waiters to-day--and the -greatness of the Russians has come about--they are all soldiers. “Is it -not touching?” said a Russian to me one day at dinner in a Petersburg -restaurant, pointing at the perfect Tartar waiters. “These people -under whose yoke we were are really stronger and more terrible than we -are, but they are now our servants, waiters, valets. If we had become -Mohammedans, the Tartars would still be greater than we. It is the -Christian idea that has triumphed in us.” - -There stand among the deserts of Turkestan and beside the irrigated -cotton fields of a new civilisation, the remains and ruins of a -mediæval glory, the mosques and tombs and palaces of the days of -Timour and of his loved wife, Bibi Khanum. The Russians are not -touched by archæology, and have no interest in pagans, even splendid -pagans. English people have considerable difficulty in obtaining -permission to enter the country. So Tamerlane is little thought of. -But in England, in the fifteenth and fourteenth centuries, he had a -tremendous fame--you feel that fame in Marlowe’s great drama: - - Holla, ye pampered jades of Asia! - What, can ye draw but twenty miles a day, - And have so proud a chariot at your heels - And such a coachman as great Tamerlane? - -Shakespeare burlesqued this through the mouth of Pistol: - - Shall packhorses - And hollow pamper’d jades of Asia, - Which cannot go but thirty miles a day, - Compare with Cæsars, and with Cannibals, - And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with - King Cerberus. - -England’s opinion was the same as Pistol’s, and the grandeur of -Tamerlane was forgotten. Yet in two successive years he conquered India -and Eastern Russia. He wore what was traditionally held to be the -armour of King David. And, to-day, who so poor as to do him reverence? -Only the beautiful name of Timour and the ruins of his tombs and -mosques remain, giving a strange atmosphere of mystery and melancholy -to the youngest of Russian colonies. - -It is possible now to linger in the romantic idea of all the splendour -that has passed away, and to feel a strange beauty in Samarkand. I -remember reading some years ago a beautiful prose poem in modern -“impressionist” style, written by Zoe Pavlovska, who is, I suppose, a -Russian--perhaps a Cossack. It was the story of pilgrimage to the tomb -of Tamerlane’s most loved princess: - - I shall go to the tomb of the Emperor’s daughter. It will be night, - but a night when the moon is full; its clear light will guide me - through the mazes of the streets of the city. These will be narrow. - At dark corners I shall be afraid--muffled forms will glide past me - in the deep shadows of the walls. - - Now and then a light will shine from some open window. I shall stop - and hear the chanting of poems, and will wait to listen, swaying in - time with the rhythm. - - I shall hear---- - - “Who will converse with me now that the yellow camels are gone? There - is no friend for the stranger, save the stranger.” - - Then I shall creep out of the town by a turquoise-tiled gate. There - they will ask me, “Where do you go?” I shall answer, showing them my - box of jade, “I go to the tomb of Bibi Khanum, to lay this at her - feet.” I will then show them the flower in my box. - - When I have reached the place I shall stand below the broken arches, - and will see that they are bluer than the blue night sky beyond them; - the moon will make strange shadows. It will seem as if giant warriors - are guarding her. Coming to the place where her body lies I shall - say, “O beloved of Timour”--he who sleeps under a deep green sea of - jade--“I have brought for you a flower.” Then, though in a cloudless - sky, the moon will slowly hide herself, the purple shadows will - lengthen till all is black save where she lies; there each jewel on - her tomb will glow into its own colour, as if lighted from within, - and by this faint light I shall see the pale hands and faces of four - Tartar warriors who will lift the stone which covers her. As they put - it on the ground they will once more become one with the darkness. - - “Brothers, I am afraid; stay near me.” Thus shall I cry to them. - There will be no answer, only a silence made more desolate by the - continuous throbbing round of a distant drum. Slowly from the mingled - light of the jewels a form will rise in garments of the colour of - ripe pomegranates worked with flowers in gold; some apple-green - ribbons will fall from her shoulder, and under her breasts will be a - sash of vivid crimson. She will wear on her head a crown of jewels - and flowers and dull gold leaves; jade and amethyst drops will fall - from this crown on either side of her face, which will be painted - tulip-pink and her lips scarlet; her eyes will be rimmed with black - jewels ground into powder. - - Then, gazing at her, I shall lay at her feet the flower from my - garden, and, smiling, she will give me an amber poppy. She will say, - looking into my eyes, “You ask for sleep--I would give my eternity of - slumber for one moment of that sorrow I called life.” - -The Great War of to-day makes the past more melancholy, and, as the -centuries roll out with ever newer sorrows and calamities and strifes, -the faces in history seem paler, sadder. The twilight of oblivion -deepens. The history of man becomes more melancholy. - - - - -VI - -TO TASHKENT - - -The country east of Samarkand is much greener than the country west -of it. It was interesting to note that the farther east I went from -the shores of the Caspian the less did the desert predominate. There -was abundant life on the plains; many horses grazing, many camels -carrying grey marble for the building of new palaces, many sheep. At -the railway stations were Sarts, Kirghiz, Afghans, occasional Hindus, -Jews--not Russian Jews, but polygamous Eastern Jews, a rich, secluded, -conservative tribe, who will not own their Russian brethren or sit down -with them at meat--at least, so a Jew in the train informed me. - -Samarkand is outside the protectorate of Bokhara, and takes its stand -now as a city of the Russian Empire. It is also a great Mohammedan -centre, as much by tradition and history as by present fact; but it is -now completely under Russian influence, and the future which it has is -one which will show itself more and more purely Russian. Already there -are 25,000 Russians there. The city is divided by one long boulevard -into two parts, native and Russian, and it may be surmised that the -present state of Samarkand foreshadows the future state of Bokhara, and -that those three or four houses which form the Russian part of Bokhara -will at length find themselves the centre of a great Russian city, -standing face to face with the Eastern and ancient town. What a history -has Samarkand, both in legend and in history! It was founded by a -fabulous person in 4000 B.C., but only emerged into history as a place -conquered by Alexander of Macedon. It was successively conquered by -the various monarchs of the Huns and the Tartars and by proselytising -Arabs and by the Uzbeks, and at last by the Russians in 1868. Its whole -history is one of being conquered. Its people to-day are the most -gentle in the world, wear no weapons, commit no violence, never even -seem to get angry--I refer, of course, to the native Sarts. - -[Illustration: FINE-LOOKING SARTS IN OLD TASHKENT] - -A fine chain of cities--Askhabad, Merv, Bokhara, Samarkand, -Tashkent--and strange to realise them to be all on the railway and -in direct economic communication with Europe; it is possible to -take a train from Petersburg to Tashkent, or to Bokhara, or to the -Persian frontier without change. During the week in which I was at -Bokhara and Samarkand work was begun on the new railway which is to -run from Tashkent to Kuldzha, in Chinese Tartary, and in a little -while, perhaps, we may see an agreement made and work begun in the -construction of the railway to India through Persia. Russia, stopped -in the Far East by the emergence of modern Japan, and thwarted in -the Balkans, seemed in the time just before the Great War to be -concentrating her attention on what may be called the Middle East. -How open Europe is becoming to the East, and how easy of access is -the East becoming to us! The friendship of English and Russians in -Central Asia must mean a larger, stronger life for both Empires. And -the development of Asia can mean much to the home Russians; they, as -we, are inclined to take their own land and their capital cities as -the only places of interest in the world. Already, reading some of the -Moscow and Petersburg newspapers, you may alter Kipling’s phrase and -ask: “What do they know of Russia who only Moscow know?” - -Tashkent is the capital of Russian Central Asia, and is a well-built -city extending over an enormous area. It occupies a space something -like a fifth of that which London occupies. There is no crowding -anywhere. The houses, for fear of earthquakes, have in no case more -than two storeys, and seldom that. There are many public gardens, where -you may sit at white-spread tables and drink _narzan_ or koumis in -the dense shade of thickly foliaged trees. Tashkent is a city on an -oasis. It has wonderful vegetation. Along all the streets run brisk -streams of fresh water, conducted on the irrigation system from the -river. There is a noise all day and all night of running water, so that -if you wake in the hush of night and listen to it, you may imagine -for a moment that you are living in a village among hills aleak with -thousands of cascades and rivulets. How useful is this water-supply to -Tashkent! There is no need for water-carts; strong natives are employed -with buckets to scoop water from the streams and fling it across the -cobbles all day. So effectual is their work that there is never a whiff -of dust, and, indeed, it is occasionally necessary to wear galoshes, -the streets having been made so muddy. The streams freshen the air, -keep down the dust, give life to the lofty poplars of the many avenues, -and they are the convenient element for thousands of Mohammedans to -wash in before saying their prayers. The streams make the town into the -country. As you walk down the pavemented High Street, and look in at -the truly fine shops of Tashkent, your attention may still be diverted -by the dainty water wagtail that is nesting near by, and as you wait -for the electric tram you observe the small heath butterfly flitting -along, as much at home as upon the mountains. At night, whilst all the -Russians, in white clothes, parade up and down and gossip, and the moon -looks down from above the gigantic trees of the gardens and the main -streets, the streams still take attention, for there proceeds from them -a tumultuous, everlasting, raging chorus of frog-calling. - -[Illustration: OUTSIDE A GERMAN SHOP IN OLD TASHKENT] - -Up the many long streets from the old town to the new come strings of -gentle-looking camels--low-backed, single-humped, long-necked camels, -with sometimes as many as twenty necklaces of blue beads from below -their ears. The horses, too, are much adorned with carpet cloths and -coloured strings that keep the flies away. The high-wheeled carts -of Bokhara have become too common in Tashkent to attract attention. -Altogether, indeed, the Orient strikes one less romantically here -than in Bokhara. The native population of 200,000 is very dirty and -disorderly; the women, behind their veils, not nearly so strict -or so careful; the houses not so well kept--all in dirt and ruin. On -the roofs of the mosques are thousands of red poppies in bloom, and -occasionally the crane’s nest is to be seen on the tops of the towers -whence the muezzin calls to prayer. There are booths of coppersmiths -and carpet-makers and silk-workers, and caravanserai where all manner -of picturesque Moslems are to be seen lying on divans and carpets or -squatting over basins of tea; but all is second-hand and down-at-heel -after Bokhara. With the coming of the Russians the angel of death has -breathed on all that was once the grandeur of the Orient at Tashkent. -Once there were no Russians in the land, and then what is now old -Tashkent was the only Tashkent; it was a great Moslem city that could -be pointed to geographically as such. But as the fine Russian streets -were laid down, and the large shops opened, and the cathedrals were -built, and the gardens laid out, the old uphill-and-down-dale labyrinth -of the Eastern city slowly changed to a curiosity and an anachronism. -It faded before the eyes. The next year the Russians were to celebrate -the fiftieth anniversary of the conquest of the town--only the -fiftieth! Poor old Tashkent, slipping into the sere and yellow leaf, -passing away even as one looked, always decreasing whilst the new town -is always increasing--there is much pathos in its destiny. - -The natives are mostly Sarts, an absolutely unambitious people, honest, -quiet, sober. Scarcely any crime ever takes place among them. A week -in the year they are said to go off on a spree and get rid of the -sin in them. For the rest of the time they are like lambs. They are -uninterested in everything except small deals in the wares they make -or sell. Their wives have rings in their nostrils for adornment--so I -observed when the sun shone brightly on their black veils. A strange -sight the electric tram which goes from the old town to the new and -back again--crowded with men in white turbans and long robes and with -Eastern women in their veils. - -The foundation of the society of new Tashkent is laid by the regiments -quartered there, and the fine shops exist chiefly for the custom of -officers and their wives. A Grand Duke, who was banished for giving a -Crown jewel to a favourite lady, lives here in exile, but he is an aged -man now and receives few guests. High official personages constantly -visit the colony, and consequently stay at Tashkent. The whole -atmosphere is military, and there is an unusual smartness everywhere. -Especially do you notice how well dressed the women are at the theatres -and in the gardens, and the men accompanying them nearly all wear -the sword. The middle-class Russian is out of sight, and the peasant -labourer is rare, owing to the fact that the Sarts work at 9d. a day, -but the Russian at 1s. or 1s. 3d. There is, however, a dandy Armenian -element; young hawkers and shoeblacks and barbers who appear in the -evening in white collars and cheap serges, with combed locks under felt -hats, with canes in their hands. - -[Illustration: TASHKENT: A FOOTBALL MATCH AT THE COLLEGE] - -Tashkent has now many schools, from the important Corpus, the -military college where officers’ sons are educated, to the little -native school where the Russian schoolmaster tries to give Russian to -the Sart. I visited the splendid military school, and was only sorry -to be too late in the season to see an hour of Russian football, the -game being very popular with the boys. Most of the professors at this -school are officers, and I met a charming staff-captain who had known -several English correspondents during the war in Manchuria. The teacher -of French gave me some interesting photographs. - -There are six cinema shows at Tashkent, two theatres, an open-air -theatre, a skating rink, and many small diversions. The native turns up -in the cinema, and there are generally long lines of turbaned figures -in the front of the theatre. At the real theatres it is necessarily -those who know Russian who take the seats. At the open-air theatre they -play _The Taming of the Shrew_, at the Coliseum the _Doll’s House_ and -Artsibasheff’s _Jealousy_. The town has two newspapers, and on the day -on which I arrived I found that the leading article of the _Courier of -Turkestan_ was entitled “The State of Affairs in Ulster.” All Europe -seemed to have its eyes on our politics, and Europe extends now as far -east as Tashkent, though it is of “Central Asia” that that city claims -to be the capital. - -A wonderful place Tashkent. Cherries ripen there by the 1st of May, -strawberries are seven copecks a pound in mid-May. Everything ripens -three weeks earlier than in Russia proper. It is a fresh, fragrant -city--an interesting curiosity among the cities of the world. The -Russians have in it a city worth possessing. It must be said they have -done their best to possess it, not merely in the letter of the law, but -by improving it and governing it and giving it a Russian atmosphere. -Despite camels and mosques, and natives in their turbans, and the sad -call of the muezzin, you feel all the time as you go up and down the -streets of Tashkent that you are in Russia. - -The Kaufmann Square is, I suppose, the noblest position in the new -city, all the avenues and prospects being used to frame the monument -which stands there. This is the statue of General Kaufmann, who took -possession of the land for the Russians. On one side of the monument is -a fierce, dark, enormous, two-headed eagle in stone. But between its -claws this year a dove had its nest. From behind the eagle General von -Kaufmann stands and looks over his new-conquered country. On the other -side of the monument there is the following inscription: - - “I pray you bury me here that everyone may know that here is true - Russian earth in which no Russian need be ashamed to lie.” - - (_From a letter of_ GENERAL KAUFMANN, 1878.) - -Rather interesting that this should be said by a Russian with a German -name. - - - - -VII - -THE RUSSIAN CONQUEST - - -The Russian princes, Yaroslaf Vsevolodovitch and his son, Alexander -Nevsky, did homage to the Mongol khans in the thirteenth century. -Timour brought back thousands of Russian slaves after his conquests, -and Russia lay under the yoke of the Tartars. The Empire of Asia lasted -only a little while in the hands of the dynasty of Tamerlane, and the -Uzbek and the Kirghiz Cossacks appeared, waging a holy war for Islam. -At the present moment there are one million Uzbeks in the province of -Bokhara, three hundred and fifty thousand in Khiva, and five hundred -thousand spread over the rest of Russian Turkestan, and a sprinkling -in Afghanistan. The Uzbeks formed three kingdoms, Bokhara, Khiva, and -Kokand. The Emirs of these states are to this day Uzbeks, but are now -little more than Russian civil servants. A dependence of Kokand was -Pamir, where the Karakirghiz wandered with their flocks--people now -wandering on the Thian Shan mountains in Ferghan and Seven Rivers Land, -also in parts of Sirdaria and Eastern Turkestan. The Kirghiz Cossacks -came south from what is now the Akmolinsk Steppe in Siberia. This race, -a sort of mongrelisation of Huns and Tartars, diffused itself over the -whole desert from Lake Balkhash to the Ural. In the seventeenth century -they were an organised and powerful nation, with a Khan at Tashkent; -but in the succeeding century there was faction and dissension, and the -nation divided off into three large hordes. The great horde went to -Seven Rivers Land in the Northern Ural, the middle horde to the Steppes -of Akmolinsk, and the little horde to Sirdaria and the Ural. From that -day their military spirit seems to have steadily waned. To-day they -are as peaceful as their herds. During the years 1846 to 1854, the -Russians began to penetrate the deserts of Seven Rivers Land and take -the Kirghiz over as subjects. There was very little actual fighting -till the Russians came into contact with the Uzbeks of Kokand, whom, -however, they fought and overthrew with considerable slaughter. Vemey -fell in 1854, Pishpek and Tokmak in 1862. Then the Russians turned -westward, and took Aulie Ata, Chimkent, and Tashkent. In 1867 Seven -Rivers Land was made into a Russian province, and the stream of Russian -colonisation turned out of Siberia southward toward India. - -[Illustration: PLEASANT COUNTRY OUTSIDE TASHKENT] - -One stream of colonists was moving southward from Siberia, another -was moving eastward from the Volga. One observes the rise of the -Russian power. In the sixteenth century the Russian had begun to take -the upper hand, and Kazan and Astrakhan, though predominantly Tartar -cities, fell to the assaults of Christian arms. In the eighteenth -century the peasant colonists had already come into contact with the -Kirghiz Cossacks, and boundary lines had to be drawn. Orenburg -fell into Russian hands in 1748, and peaceful penetration followed -military success. In 1847 the great horde of the Kirghiz became Russian -subjects, and all the races of Central Asia began to talk about -the coming advance of the Russians and the need to fight them. The -Russian war of conquest was consummated in the East. From Tashkent the -Russians proceeded to make war on the Bokharese. In vain did the Emir -of Bokhara demand the evacuation of Tashkent by the Russians. In 1866 -the Bokharese were defeated at the battle of Irdzhar, and Khodzkent -was taken by storm. After heavy fighting with Uzbeks and Turkomans and -great slaughter of the Mohammedans, they approached Samarkand, which -at last they occupied at the invitation of the inhabitants. In 1868 -a treaty was made between the Emir of Bokhara and the Tsar, whereby -Samarkand and district passed to Russia. - -In 1869 a Russian army crossed the Caspian and laid siege to -Krasnovodsk, and attempts were made to push across the desert along the -northern frontier of Persia. The Turkomans, however, offered an heroic -resistance, and it was not until 1880, when Skobelef was given charge -of the task of subduing the tribes, that Russia made progress. At the -beginning of December, 1880, the army of Turkestan, under Colonel -Kuropatkin, made over five hundred miles progress across the flying -sands and took the fortress of Dengil-Tepe. Askhabad was taken, and -all the fortified points in Transcaspia. Transcaspia was made into a -Russian province in 1881. - -In 1884 there was a short struggle, and then the ancient city of -Merv fell into Russian hands, and the English began to view the -Russian progress with uneasiness. There was even such a word coined -as “mervousness,” and Russophobes had Merv on the brain. It must be -admitted we were rather backward not to treat with the Russians and -obtain definite trade treaties at that time. For we lost and Germany -gained a great deal of trade which we might still have retained. - -Bokhara and Khiva came under Russian protection. The Central Asian -Railway was built, and Russia became the most important Power in the -Moslem world of Central Asia, owning as subjects so many millions -of Kirghiz, Sarts, Uzbeks, Turkomans, Tekintsi, Tartars, and being -neighbours of Turks, Persians, Afghans and what not. Never was such -a stretch of territory, so many new subjects, or so much trade and -interest won with so little trouble. It was won almost by military -processions. It must be remembered that it could not have been held, -nor would Russia have any real footing there to-day, but for the -peasant pioneers who followed the armies and began settling the land. -And the peasants would not have remained if the Government of Russia -had not helped them with loans, found them suitable plots for their -villages, and irrigated the desert. - -[Illustration: HEARTY SHEPHERDS: ALL KIRGHIZ] - -Now Turkestan and Russian Central Asia are extremely loyal, peaceful -and happy Russian colonies. Rebellion was put down with such severity -by the Russians, the defeats were with such slaughter, that the -Asiatic tribesmen learned that Russia was too powerful to be trifled -with; they knew they had found their masters, and submitted absolutely. -The Russians overcowed their spirits, they felt there was some magic -power behind them, and that human resistance was vain. Then fear gave -way to placid acceptance of mastery, and the Russians began building -churches and schools and fortresses and barracks, shops, towns, -villages, and no one said them nay. Trade passed into the hands of -Russian merchants, and new towns sprang up beside the old ones--new -Bokhara beside old Bokhara, new Tashkent beside old Tashkent, and the -Moslems saw unveiled the will of God. They could not have been a very -warlike people really. They are not like the Mohammedans under our -rule or the Turks, though it is quite possible that if, as a result -of this war, a great quantity of Armenia and Turkey fell into Russian -hands, the Mohammedans there would accept their fate as destiny and -settle down to live as peacefully as their fellow-believers of Russian -Central Asia. These are meek. During the past winter the Germans have -been endeavouring to stir up Islam to fight England, France and Russia. -Germany and Turkey have found a common ground. The Arabs in Mesopotamia -are fighting a holy war against us. Persia has wavered; there has -been ferment in India, there might have been a rising in Afghanistan, -but there has been no chance of a rising of those Mohammedans who are -Russian subjects. All the aborigines of Russian Central Asia are -devoted to peace, and none have any quarrel with the Russian Empire. - -Russia, of course, has considerable control over her Mohammedan -subjects because of the railways. The development of the lines in -Central Asia has undoubtedly been a wise Imperial measure on Russia’s -part, and they are the best fruits of her conquest. The construction -afforded certain interesting engineering problems, though it may be -remarked that Russian engineers generally succeed in building railways -over plains, even over deserts, but fail when they come to mountains. - -[Illustration: THE RUSSIAN TEACHER: A NATIVE SCHOOL IN TASHKENT] - -The Central Asian Railway had for its original object the pacification -of the Tekintsi, and was a strategic line from the Transcaspian post -of Krasnovodsk to the oasis of Kizil Arvat. It was built over the -desert, and was at first regarded as of a temporary military character. -It cannot now be regarded as a well-built railway, is very loose, and -trains are forced to go very slowly, and it is constantly in danger -of sand obstruction through storms. In the progress of the military -operations against the Tekintsi, Geok-Tepe was stormed in January, -1881, and the first train went through to Kizil Arvat in December of -the same year. Kizil Arvat remained the terminus until the fray with -the Afghans, on March 30th, 1885, when the prolongation was undertaken -seriously. In June, 1885, the Tsar decided to continue the railway -towards the frontier of Afghanistan, and by December 11th, 1885, the -Russian military railway gangs had taken the rails 136 miles on -to Askhabad, at the northern limit of Persia. Merv was annexed, the -rails went on to Merv. By December, 1886, the railway had gone on to -Chardzhui, on the Oxus. The red river was bridged, and the railway went -on to Bokhara and Samarkand. A state service of steamers was started -on the Oxus between Chardzhui and Khiva. In 1888 the completion of the -line to Samarkand was celebrated, and the railway was consecrated with -ecclesiastical pomp. The Russians have always given the impression -that they did not intend to develop their railways, and yet they have -gone on developing them all the same. They have gone south from Merv -to the River Kush, on the Afghanistan frontier, and east from Khodgent -to Andigan and Kokand. They have brought a main line from Petrograd, -by way of Orenburg, over the deserts of Sirdaria, to the cities of -Turkestan and Tashkent, and have thus a railway all the way from the -Baltic to within a few hundred miles of India. In February, 1916, -trains were first run on the first reach of the new railway that is to -join Russia and Western China. It is now possible to go to Chimkent by -train, and possibly next year to Aulie Ata. If English were in charge -of this territory there would probably be more railways by now. In any -case, the chief value of the railways has been the means they afforded -of bloodless pacification of tribes. But their future is not so much a -military future as one of trade and Imperial development. - -Russia has made her Imperial conquests by force of arms, and -safeguarded them by railways and colonisation. It should be remembered -that before and after and all the time runs the natural stream of -colonisation. The ultimate bond of unity is that which comes from the -national family ties of colonisation. Nothing stands in Russia’s way, -and she is always quietly colonising the empty East. - -An interesting yearly chart might be issued by the Russian Government -showing the waves of colonisation: the new spots in forests and deserts -that have been given names, the new farms, the thickening of the -population in the nearer-in districts, the efflorescence of Russian -enterprise at the farthest-out points whither they have gone. Several -hundred Russian families are settled in Northern Persia, several -hundred also in Mongolia and China. The movement goes on, and it is -not primarily due to the density of population in European Russia. All -Russia, excepting the few industrial regions, is under rather than -over-populated. There is plenty of room. Why, then, should Russia -increase? or why not? Russia has access to the empty heart of Asia. -The old world is hollow at the core, and Russia has access to that -great, wide hollowness, stands at the door of it and stares into the -great emptiness. Then her people are wanderers; they have the wandering -spirit. A cross wind blows over them, and they are gipsies--the -roving heart rules the mind. They love the road and the quest. They -are seekers. Even the most materialistic of them, the least religious -in their outward expression, nourish dreams of success and ideas of -golden climes to be found “beyond the horizon.” We should call many -of them ne’er-do-wells, though as a matter of fact they are all intent -to do well somewhere. They take up farms and give up farms with too -little scruple, and then go farther, disgusting the official eye in one -district, but knowing they will delight other official eyes farther on -when they turn up with carts and cattle and belongings at some verdant, -empty wilderness still farther away from the centre of Russia. - - - - -VIII - -ON THE ROAD - - -There was some difficulty in getting on from Tashkent. I had two -British notes, but no bank would change them. The clerks held the paper -upside down, took it to their colleagues, who were supping tea whilst -they worked at their ledgers, took it to the manager to show him a -curiosity, and finally returned it to me “with much regret.” “Don’t -think we are savages,” said one bank clerk, “because we do not accept -your money. The fact is, we’ve never seen it before and cannot even -read what is written on it.” Another clerk, a sympathiser, advised -me that there was an Englishman in Tashkent, a merchant who did much -business and had an account in the bank, bade me go to him, for he -would know what the notes were worth, and would no doubt accommodate a -fellow-countryman. I obtained the address and sought out my compatriot. -His name was something like Kellerman--not very promising. Behold one -of the funniest Englishmen I ever met--as clear a German Jew as I’d -ever seen in my life, scarcely speaking English, and making all the -comic mistakes which Germans make with our tongue, a fat, ill-shaven, -collarless old man of a greasy complexion, a middleman buying wool -and horsehair and oilcakes and seed from the native Sarts and Jews -and Tartars and Kirghiz. He professed to be very pleased to meet a -fellow-countryman, and to be yearning for his “native land”--“a nice -house in Kentish Town, all fog and wet in the streets, a nice fire, -pull the blinds down, and read the ‘_Daily Telegraaf_.’” Every night -in Tashkent he repaired to the public gardens, took a seat beside -the skating rink, and watched the violent whirl of Armenian youths -and their lady friends on roller-skates. Each night between ten and -twelve Kellerman might be found in his place, chuckling to himself at -the sight of accidents. “Causts nawthing,” said he, “and it’s such a -pleasure to see other people break their necks or their legs.” - -Needless to say, he would not touch my notes; at first thought they -might be false, and then offered me three pounds ten each for them. He -said he wouldn’t change them, but would be willing to make a deal and -treat it as a matter of business. So I had to post my money to Moscow. - -The next obstruction was from the police, who doubted whether I had -permission to wander about in Central Asia, and it was only after -I had myself looked through the books at the police-station that I -found my name, almost unrecognisably spelt, in the list of those who -had permission. At last I got both my money in Russian change and my -_visé_, and was free to go. So I started my long journey from the -limits of the railway to the frontier of China. - -I took train to Kabul Sai, a little station north of Tashkent, and -thence set out across the grass-covered downs to Chimkent, the first -point of importance on my journey. I was a little anxious lest I should -be stopped by the station gendarme, for it was not to be thought that -every local police authority would have my name legibly inscribed, and -I did not want to be delayed waiting while Kabul Sai and a hundred -other places wrote to Tashkent for information. However, I escaped -attention, and, having made a good country dinner (big dinner, I should -rather say) at the station buffet, I lounged about till the train went -out of the station, and then, considering compass and map, I cut across -country and found the road--without questions. - -So I got on to my feet in Sirdaria, the land of the little horde of the -Kirghiz. The plain was dusty and vast, with a great sky overhead. There -were long-legged beetles that scampered through the dust of the road, -tortoises and their families eating grass and dandelions, and very much -taken aback when picked up and examined. Father Tortoise is big and -green; his children are wee, like young crabs. There was no cultivation -anywhere in sight; the first grass had already seeded and withered, -but thousands of blue irises were in blossom, and the tall sheaves of -their leaves contrasted strangely with the dying grass below. The sun -was hot, but a fresh, travelling wind fairly lifted me as I walked. A -chorus of larks overhead made the prelude to my journey. - -[Illustration: A KIRGHIZ GRANDMOTHER: VENDOR OF _KOUMIS_] - -The only people on the road were Kirghiz. Far away on the hills I -noticed their great flocks of cattle and the circular tents of the -nomads. There were no villages. No villages, because it was hardly -“white man’s country”; there was no water to drink. I thought to make -myself tea, but I reckoned without my host. Where there should have -been streams there was only a broken parquet of dry mud. No trees, -no shade, no shelter, and, if I should find water, no fuel. The five -post-wagons, drawn each by three horses and driven by enormously fat -Kirghiz drivers with faces the colour of dull mahogany, went past me -in a cloud of dust, and I watched them away as the sun was setting. -Three-quarters of a mile away they all stopped by a wooden bridge. -There was evidently water; perhaps the drivers wanted a drink. I was -very joyful at the prospect of tea. When I got nearer I found that all -the drivers were saying their Mohammedan prayers, and had stopped at -the stream to have the conventional wash. The water was reddish-brown, -with mingled mud; light could not be seen through a glass of it. - -I resolved to see what could be obtained at the Kirghiz tents, put my -pack down by the side of the road, and set off, with a pot in one hand -and a bit of silver in the other. There were three tents on a hill, -and near them many cows and goats and horses. I arrived in a whirlwind -of dogs, three or four cattle dogs showing their teeth and barking and -snarling as they tore round me in circles. Several women were employed -tending immense pans of milk which they were boiling over bonfires made -of roots. They seemed a trifle scared at first, but when I showed them -the pot and pointed to the bit of silver they understood, and I was -quickly put in possession of a potful of hot, smoky milk. I carried -it carefully back to the place where I had slung my pack, and there -I sat down, feeling rather lost or accidental, and I drank the hot -milk and munched a bit of bread which I had brought from the town. The -dogs followed me all the way to my resting-place, but when they saw me -sit down and take things calmly they retired a distance and kept up a -desultory chorus. - -So I made my first meal out of doors by the roadside. The next thing -was to find a place for the night. There was no variety in the country, -and I could only choose a place where insects were fewer and one not -over a tortoise’s burrow. I had a light, home-made sleeping-sack and -a plaid. The sack was made by sewing two sheets together on three -sides. The sack is a useful institution; it keeps insects out and is -much warmer than open clothing. I had also a mosquito net, for there -are more flies here than in other parts of the world. Before making -my spread I removed an elegant oak-eggar caterpillar. I am always -disinclined to injure the creeping things of the earth, especially on -a long journey. I feel that to a certain extent I am in their charge. -This is a sort of natural superstition. Directly you kill something -superfluously, horror thrills you as it thrilled the ancient mariner -who shot the albatross. - -[Illustration: RUSSIANS AND KIRGHIZ LIVING SIDE BY SIDE AT THE FOOT OF -THE MOUNTAINS] - -I lay down in such a position as to see the sunset in the evening -and the sunrise in the morning. Sunset was stormy, but somewhere -among the rose-tinged clouds a late lark sang the day out. Then -stars appeared behind cloud curtains, and the night breeze carried -his messages along the heath. The first breath of night was cool -and pleasant, but about an hour after sunset the weather changed -entirely. It became very hot and airless, and lightnings shot across -all horizons. A shower of rain came down, and the stars disappeared. -As I lay considering the sky I heard far off the chattering of -children--chattering, laughing, and occasional bursts of singing. The -sounds came nearer, and presently there emerged a troop of camels, -twelve huge camels stalking out of the night, and on their backs men, -women and children, tents, goods. A little family of wanderers crossing -the wilderness in the night! They came so near to me that the first -camel snorted as he passed, and it was necessary for me to sit up and -warn the others off. I had not anticipated that there might be people -travelling across country in the night. They passed, and the quietness -of night resumed its sway. The clouds thickened, and lightning -shimmered under them; it began to rain again, and then stopped, and the -stars once more came up, and then the clouds thickened once more, and -once more rain came down on me with rapid tapping. So the whole night, -and it was a pleasant tempering of the heat. I slept happily, and it -was a long while before I wakened. - -When I reopened my eyes it was to look at the seven stars standing -over a blue-grey, vaporous cloud, and looking like some uncanny Asiatic -frying-pan over a fire. There was scarcely a star but for them, and -south and east and west were all dark. It did not occur to me that -it was near dawn. But suddenly a voice of liquid melody burst from -the sky, and after it, as at a signal, a whole chorus of larks sang -together away high up in the rain-wet vault of the sky. - -I slept an hour longer, and it was morning. For my breakfast I visited -another Kirghiz tent, and this time obtained a pot of mare’s milk. A -dwarf-like old woman was squatting on a carpet in the middle of the -tent, and when I said “koumis” she at once got up and brought me a tall -wooden jar. I held my pot, she tipped up the jar, and poured out the -koumis. Good that Kirghiz women are not so strictly hidden as other -Mohammedans of their sex! - -About ten o’clock I fell in with two soldiers walking to Verney (some -six hundred miles), their guns and knapsacks having gone before by -wagon. They reckoned they would be more than a month on the road. No -doubt they would march the journey in better style with a whole column, -but as it was they were inclined to stop every two hundred yards and -take off their boots; one wore jackboots, and rags for stockings, and -the other Kirghiz sandals tied with string over bare feet. He told me -light shoes were better than heavy boots, but I knew better. - -“Heavy going?” said I. - -“Yes, heavy. No water, and no one understands us in the Kirghiz tents.” - -We shared what remained of my koumis. - -“Where do you come from?” - -“Voronezh fort. And you?” - -“From England.” - -“Have you served in the army?” - -“No. We don’t need to unless we want to, you know; our soldiers receive -wages.” - -“How much?” - -“Fifty copecks a day,” said I, “and a premium when they retire.” - -“And they only give us seventy copecks a month. There’s a difference! -How long do you have to serve? Ah! We have only three years to serve. -But I’ve seen your soldiers,” said the Russian. - -“Where?” - -“At Teheran. We stood side by side with them there. But afterwards it -was found we were not necessary, and they moved us back.” - -One of the soldiers was inclined to talk, the other not. Suddenly the -silent one asked: “What are you doing here--making plans?” - -“No,” said I apprehensively; “I’m just walking along through the -country to see what it is like. Afterwards I write about it.” - -“For a library, so to speak?” - -“That’s it.” - -After much self-questioning on the subject of where water was to be -found next, we came at last to a brook where there was clear water. -It was warm and salt to the taste, but I decided to make tea. The -soldiers sat by and grinned incredulously. I should not have been able -to light a fire, but that, like the cunning younger brother in the -fairy-tale, I had been picking up every bit of wood that I chanced to -see along the roadway. I had early realised how difficult it was to -find fuel and how precious any stray bit of wood really was. By the -stream there was nothing to burn but hay. “Now shift yourselves,” said -I, “and go and find some dry hay, the driest; we shall need all the -fuel we can get.” They obeyed like good soldiers, and the fire burned -and the kettle boiled and the tea was made. What tea! No one would have -touched it in Tashkent, but out here on the road we drank it to the -last drop and left the tea-leaves parched. - -The soldiers then stretched themselves out to sleep, and I went on. -A mile on I met a Kirghiz lad carrying a scythe on his back, and he -rejoiced in my company and talked to me exuberantly in his native -tongue. I replied to him in Russian, but as he did not understand that, -but still went on talking, I reverted for amusement to English. One -thing was clear--he admired my ring very much, and several times he -took up my hand as we walked and looked at the ring and exclaimed. - -[Illustration: A TENT OF LONELY NOMADS ON A SUMMER PASTURE IN CENTRAL -ASIA] - -When we got to his tent I bade him fetch me some mare’s milk, and so -I got my evening meal. I had never tasted koumis before this day, and -had generally regarded it as more in the nature of medicine than food. -I knew that Russians suffering from catarrh of the stomach and -internal troubles were ordered by doctors to go to Kirghiz country and -live exclusively on koumis. Now it seemed I had to live on it, more or -less, for several weeks. Some say it is as invigorating as champagne; I -do not know. It is certainly a pleasant drink and good food. - -That night I slept out till ten, and then thunder and the rain forced -me to pack up and search for shelter. Eventually a little old man whom -I met in the dark conducted me to a Kirghiz caravanserai. _Sarai_ is -Russian for a shed or barn, and the caravanserai is the shed where the -caravan puts in, otherwise an inn. I was accommodated on an old carpet -on a dried mud floor. There were a score of men in the room. Some were -snoring, some were smoking hookahs, one was playing a three-stringed -guitar, and the rest were squatting round a little kerosene lamp on -the floor, dealing out grimy cards, calling out numbers, gathering in -copecks. - -The roof of the inn was all canes and earth, and I surmised that grass -was growing above it. The walls were tattered and old, and occasionally -a fat scorpion wandered along them. There was a black and white duck in -one corner sitting on a basket of eggs. I lay away from the walls. “Not -good to sleep indoors,” I reflected; “fresher and quieter on the heath; -but I don’t want to get soaked.” - -After my night in the Kirghiz caravanserai I was regaled in the -morning with millet bread and tea. My host charged me 2d. for bed and -breakfast, and I resumed my journey. It was over a moorland country, -high and windswept. All day I was climbing uphill to view points, or -plunging downhill into the rough pits that lay between them. The sun -was a ghost in the haze of the sky; there was a tempering of the light, -and even now and then a cloud shadow cast over the fields, and it was -delicious to look at the myriads of crimson poppies set in meadows of -rank grass. - -I was in better country; there were more streams, more people, more -cattle. There were snowy mountains on the horizon. Some freshness from -the snow came from them. I sat on a sun-bathed crown of the downs and -watched the lambs playing; white, brown, yellow, black lambs, very -pretty to look at, very lively. And immense camel herds came stalking -up to me as if released from some pen, groaning, whining, grunting, -lying in the dust and rolling over, getting up again convulsively, -tolling the lugubriously sounding bells that hang under their necks. -There were many baby camels no bigger than donkeys; as they came along -they indulged in ungainly scampering, which made it look as if their -hind-legs were fighting their fore-legs. - -Pleasant for me to sit and watch them idly! How different the feelings -of a dozen prisoners whom I saw being marched along my road by two -armed guards, a pitiful little troop of men, some of them stripped to -the waist, because they thought it cooler so, all very dusty and limp, -and all carrying in their hands blue, empty kettles which they hoped to -fill at springs or streams by the way. Alas! there was no water fit to -drink anywhere along that road! Poor prisoners. What to them were poppy -fields, or camel herds, or beautiful views! There was probably just one -thought in each and every one’s head: “When shall I get a drink?” or -“When shall we come to a piece of shade?” - -The prisoners went on in the dust; I remained behind in the free air. -In the afternoon I saw a samovar steaming outside a mud hut, and so -went up and was allowed to have tea with a Kirghiz family. Not nomads -these Kirghiz, but settled inhabitants with passports or papers. The -Russian Government is very anxious to get these wandering folk out -of tents into immovable dwellings. There squatted down to tea the -owner of the hut, in a rust-coloured cloak; his wife, in a bright -yellow “cover-all”--hold-all, you might almost say; a boy, in white -cotton slops; and a little dusky girl, naked to the waist, but wearing -cotton trousers, having a silver chain round her neck, and her black -hair in twelve long and slender plaits, each loaded at the end with a -little silver weight that kept them from getting mixed up and looking -untidy. The mother, in yellow, had a sort of wire puzzle in her ears -for ear-rings, on her head a high, white turban. She was by no means -a beauty. She looked as if originally she had been made without a -mouth, and a neighbour had opened a place for it with a blunt knife. -The Kirghiz women are not by any means feminine or attractive in -appearance. As we squatted, each with a basin in our hands, in came -a neighbour from the fields. She wore a white turban and a white -gown. Her face was deep oak-stain. She had a sash of scarlet at her -middle, wore jackboots, and had on her wrists three bracelets of the -serviette-holder type. She was a woman cowherd, just in from the -fields. In her hands she carried a little spinning stick with circular -leaden weight at the bottom of it, and on to this she dexterously -pulled camel hair out of one hand whilst with the other she twirled it -into thread. She was evidently _persona grata_ in the hut. She had the -face of a pirate--a great, big, tanned, jolly, horse-like sort of face. - -After tea the boy and girl ran off to the flocks, the women went on -spinning, and the father brought out a bull with a ring through his -nose and a chain and rope hanging from it. He put a bit of hide on the -beast’s back, and then, to my astonishment, mounted and rode away over -the hills. I sat in a shady corner and watched the afternoon turn to -evening. - -[Illustration: SARTS SELLING BREAD: THE _LEPESHKA_ STALL] - -Presently out of the blue sky came a hurricane shower of hail and rain, -flashing through the dazzling sunshine and yet never obscuring it. It -was big, stinging hail, but none of the Kirghiz seemed to mind it. I -could see all the children of the village disporting themselves with -the lambs and the calves on the hill opposite. Not till twilight did -they return--and then there was for me one of the prettiest sights. All -the children came in riding bareback on calves or sheep, and driving -them forward with kicks of their little bare feet. The little dusky -girl sat astride of a golden-brown lamb, and her brother on an -unwilling brown calf. Following the lamb came the anxious mother ewe, -and following the calf a bellowing old black cow. Many children came -up, and there was a gay gathering and a delicious noise of mirth and -jollity at the end of the day. As a reward to the ewes and the lambs -the children brought them millet bread and fed them from their hands. -The ewes did all but speak to the children, and the way they took the -millet bread from them spoke of an unusual intimacy between children -and animals. The sheep were not worried or stupefied by the children’s -pranks; they were watchful, wilful, and almost as mischievous as the -children themselves. In these wild places of the world where there is -no civilisation and no pretension on the part of man to be more than an -animal himself--where, moreover, man lives in the midst of great herds -where all business and doing seems to be the breeding of young--the -children of men and the children of the herds are much more akin. The -birth of children synchronises with the birth of lambs and foals, and -is associated in the aboriginal mind. One understands how the eyes -of the ancient Israelites and Egyptians, those primeval shepherd and -nomadic peoples, were fixed upon the process of birth. They lived also -in the midst of the animal world. - -At nightfall carpets were spread outside the hut for the people to -sleep on. They also lived the night with the stars. But the children -stayed long with the lambs, and I imagine in some cases slept with -them. - -I, for my part, decided to push on for Chimkent[A] in the cool of the -evening, and I got into the little town about ten o’clock at night. -Chimkent is a miniature of Tashkent, but without the great buildings -and shops in the Russian half. The same wide town--when you come to it -you are not there; it is necessary to go on and on. The same gullies -running along every street--only the water in them is less muddy than -at Tashkent. The Sartish shops again. The dazzling cinema shows once -more. I made for a brilliant illumination, thinking it might be an -hotel, but it was the cinema theatre “Light.” Cinema theatres all have -names in Russia, none more common than this one of “The Light.” - -I found an inn at length, and a room. Next morning I went out for -provisions. Chimkent has a little reputation as a watering-place, and -chiefly because of the supply of koumis! Russians are very fond of -going to outlandish places in order to be “cured,” and koumis is the -cure of Chimkent. It is a beautiful little town, however. Chimkent -has its mountain background, its white-stemmed, magnificent poplars, -its old ruins, its fortifications. The Russians live more freely than -usual. No passport was asked of me at the inn where I stayed. There -was no Government monopoly of the sale of vodka.[B] There seemed to be -fewer police about. - -The Sartish bazaar was full of life and colour; carpenters, smiths -and metal workers doing their work at open booths; koumis merchants -standing behind gallon bottles and little glasses, inviting you to -sit down there and then and drink a glass, the white of the milk -gleaming suggestively through the gloomy green of the bottle; silk and -cotton vendors exposing marvellously gaudy wares to veiled females who -tried to look at the stuff without exposing their faces, a difficult -manœuvre; strawberry hawkers; hawkers of _lepeshka_; carpet vendors; -saddle vendors. There were high stacks of gaily coloured wooden -saddles. A Kirghiz woman, riding astride of a pony, and yet having a -dusky baby at her open breast, came and bought just such a saddle. - -What remains most brightly in my mind was a long row of silvery-grey -wolf skins exhibited at one shop. It was almost as if the animals -themselves were looking at you. It reminded me of what winter must be -like in this land--not mild, as one might expect, but intensely cold -as long as it lasts. The moors are full of dangers from wolves. It -was hereabouts, some years ago, that a whole wedding party of thirty -or forty people perished on their way from the church to the bride’s -house. The distance was only twenty miles, and in that time the wolves -tore down all the horses and all the people except one Kirghiz driver, -who by sacrificing the last-left couple, the bride and groom, and -throwing them to the wolves, escaped to tell the tale and not feel -shame. The Kirghiz would not feel shame at such an act--they are -somehow outside codes of honour and chivalry and religion. They are not -savages, but they are not civilised. - -I spent a day altogether at Chimkent. Before resuming my tramp I bought -myself a bottle in which to keep water or milk against a thirsty hour -on the road. At the shop where I bought it a strange variety of wares -was exposed; first Caucasian wine, then local wine--vodka, called here -table wine--cognac, liqueurs, then ikons, flowers for your grave, -matches and tobacco. Very suggestive, I thought. The landlady was -rather taken aback at my remarks, and said that in a small place like -Chimkent one could not have a separate shop for ikons or for flowers or -for vodka, and her brother was a joiner, and she could take orders for -coffins. - -At Chimkent I struck colonial country, the main stretch of Russian -colonisation extending eastward from Tashkent. I set out over a very -worn switchback road, through irrigated fields of barley, through -hayfields, where Russians were at work, past Russian farmhouses, into -a country entirely different from that which I had been traversing. -For the time being the Kirghiz was out of sight and I was in a Russian -colonial district, a sort of Southern Siberia, full of interest and -promise. At dusk I came to an encampment of fifty or sixty emigrants, -with their wagons and horses. Many fires were burning, and iron pails -full of soup were simmering over them; samovars were steaming, children -were skirling and playing, someone was playing a concertina, and many -drunkards were singing. Familiar Russian songs rent the air--the old -songs which Russians never seem to abandon, and perhaps never will -abandon, even when everybody knows the latest music-hall catch. - -I slept the night on a hillock overlooking the road, and it was better -than at the inn, even though there was a thunder-shower. The larks -sang the day out again. I listened to the cuckoo calling and to the -conversation of the blue crows that kept visiting me, finding out -something, flying away, and then returning with brethren; watched the -stars and the clouds, and slept. - - * * * * * - -I had now struck the main road from Tashkent to the Chinese frontier, -and the prospect of my journey changed from one of solitary wandering -over sandy wastes to one full of life and interest in the company of -Russian colonists and Oriental traffickers. From the moment I wakened -up on the hill-side on my first morning after leaving Chimkent, I was -not out of the hearing of songs and laughter and chattering, nor out of -the sight of wagons, carts, camel trains and people. - -The road was really four roads, each separated by streaks of trampled -grass-grown mud, now dried or drying after many thunder-showers. On -the southern side you are accompanied by snowy mountains for hundreds -of miles. You would think that you could walk to them in half an hour -and get a handful of snow, so clear is the atmosphere that shows them, -but they are at least twenty miles distant. They are, first, the Alai -Tau, and then the Alexandrovsky Mountains, and then what is known as -the Trans-Ilian Alai Tau, and many of their peaks are over ten thousand -feet high, but are not named and little known. On the north side of -the road stretches the desert in spring, now green to the horizon, but -already turning yellow here and there under the blaze of the sun. On -either hand one sees far-away clusters of grey tents of the Kirghiz, -and near them their herds of cattle-black patches that are horses, red -patches that are cows, grey, white and brown masses like many maggots, -and they are sheep. There are also many camels far away on the hills, -looking like little twists of thick rope with knots in the middle. - -Nearly all the traffic at this season is going eastward, and each -morning, when the horses are put in and the wagoners make up the -caravan once more, it is with eyes and faces toward the dawn. - -The emigrant caravan starts an hour before sunrise; the camp breaks up -and the oxen and horses are put to, and the long day of creaking and -blundering and toiling onward commences. I was regularly wakened up -by the road which had wakened before me, the moving caravans and the -traders’ carts. - - The stars are setting and the caravan - Starts for the dawn of nothing. Oh! make haste! - -I generally slept at a distance of about a hundred yards from the -actual highway, in order to avoid being run over at night. Even so, -I was frequently in some danger of being trodden on before dawn, and -at least sure to be wakened early by the traffic on the road. Upon -occasion there were whole hordes and patriarchal families on the roads, -with their camels and sheep and horses, their white-turbaned women -riding on bulls, and pretty girl-brides on caparisoned palfreys. - -We journeyed from village to village, and each was an artificial oasis -made by the Russian colonists and irrigation engineers. Every ten, -fifteen or twenty miles there was a substantial Russian village; the -farther I went the more distance there was between these settlements, -but still the actual chain was kept up unbroken to the far east -of the colony, and the maps which we have of these deserts are -unrepresentative in that they show blank spaces with a scattering of -Tartar names of places. The map should now be well marked with Russian -names. Each village is a shady shelter, alive with the running water of -the irrigation canals, wherein are trailing families of ducks. There -are long lines of splendid poplar trees, solid houses, schools, shops, -a church, post office, municipal buildings, and so on. A notice-board -tells the number of souls and the date of the foundation of the village. - -When the long caravans of new colonists came to a settlement they tied -their horses and oxen to trees, repaired to inns, sought out people -who had come from their part of Russia, and made merry with them. The -village was a great sight when one of the long caravans had come in. - -A little respite from the hot road, and then on once more. I see a -Kirghiz riding with reins in one hand and a hawk in the other. The -Kirghiz are great hawkers, using different hawks for different game. I -meet a Sartish cart in which are five soldiers coming home from Verney, -where they have received their discharge--several hundred miles from a -railway station--and they have hired a native cart, and are asleep in -the bottom of it. At last I come to a tumbling mountain stream, and it -is good to have a swim and make myself tea in the shadow of the great -bridge which takes the high road across the water. When a great band of -colonists arrives here, there is an astonishing scene of peasant men -and women bathing. They take to the water as if their very bodies were -thirsty. - -We pass through Mankent, one of the few native towns remaining, and -that tending to be swallowed up by Russia also; and there, at a Sartish -shop, stay for koumis--very bad koumis compared with what the Kirghiz -gave me in their tents. Coming out of Mankent I fell in with a band -of rich emigrants going from Stavropol, in South Russia, to beyond -Kopal. They had twenty-four ox-drawn carts and twelve drawn by horses, -and in the carts were their household goods--tables, chairs, beds -and bedding--agricultural implements, reaping and binding machines, -ploughs, grindstones, saws, axes, even metal baths, barrels, guns, pots -and what not in such miscellaneity and promiscuity, mixed with mothers -and babies, that it was touching to see. The oxen, in their wooden -yokes, were fine beasts, and the emigrants tended them on foot. Every -wagon was accompanied by one or two on foot, who flicked off the flies -and encouraged the oxen along, sang songs, and shouted to one another. -Every wagon had buckets swinging at the side. One wagon had several -cages of doves fixed on to it; to another a poor old dog was tied, and -came along unwillingly. In short, everything they could bring from -Mother Russia to the new land the emigrants had brought. - -I accompanied them up on to a wild moorland, on to a great plateau, -where we spent the night after passing out of Mankent. - - * * * * * - -As I tramped thus across Russian Central Asia the great event that -should change everything was hidden behind the screens of the future. -The gentle and innocent present was more interesting than past or -future. It is touching to go over my diary and see how guilelessly -and unsuspectingly I and everyone was walking the time road that led -so soon--if we only could have known it--to the precipice of war. The -every-day was friendly, even though it contained storm or adventure -or privation. We were familiar with mornings and evenings as with -long known and trusted friends. As we look back at them they have a -sinister aspect as of police conducting us by stages to some frontier. -It is with these feelings that I look back now to my long tramp to the -mysterious city of Aulie Ata, a famous shrine in the days of Tamerlane. -Each night I slept under the stars, each day journeyed pleasantly -forward under a tropical sun. - -One night, near the new Russian village of Antonovka, there was an -appalling sunset--through a barrel-shaped thundercloud into a sea -of fire; and directly the sun went below the horizon the lightning -became visible in the cloud, and I watched it running through the dark -veils of vapour in ropes and loops and flying lassos of silver. The -thunder rolled lugubriously, and far away I could see the rain pouring -in continuous flood, the black fringe of the cloud torn from heaven -down to earth. I wondered had I not better pack up and go down to the -village. But a little wisp of clear sky, containing one pale star, -expanded itself slowly and drove away the great lightning-riven barrel -and banished every cloud, and it was clear and the thunder was not, and -the night was dry and starry. Dawn next morning was clear and cold, -and at the sound of cart-wheels on the highway below me I gladly took -the road again--quick march to get warm. In an hour, however, the sun -was already too ardent a friend, and I took shelter in a caravanserai, -a cubical mud hut with neither chair nor table, and from the samovar -steaming on the floor I prepared my morning tea--put some tea from a -packet in my knapsack into my pot, and then filled up with boiling -water from the samovar. The village street outside was full of life, -crowded with wagons and wagoners standing half in the bright new light -of day and half in the deep, damp shadow of mud walls and banks. I sat -down opposite the village school. The school door was wide open, and I -saw all the village children sitting in desks round the mud-built room. -There were about thirty children, and they were a pretty sight, the -boys in turkey-red cotton trousers, the girls in red frocks, with their -black hair in plaits. There was only one row of desks, but it went -right round the room. In the middle space were two teachers squatting -on a carpet spread on the floor. Each and every child was saying his -lessons at the top of his voice, and sing-song--but not the same thing, -all different, according to the page the boy or girl was at, some far -behind, another far in front. These were all Sart children. - -I walked all day after this with a damp towel hanging from under -my hat, and as fast as the towel dried I made it wet again from my -water-bottle. Everyone on the road was thirsty and hungry, and I said -to myself: “The next village is called Cornucula; let’s hope it will -turn out to be Cornucopia!” And it was indeed a horn of plenty, and I -shared there a roast chicken and a pitcher of milk with a companion of -the road, a poor old horseman who had a horse but who had no money, and -was begging his way home to Aulie Ata. - -“How much did you give for your horse?” said I. - -“It cost thirty-five roubles originally, with saddle and bridle and -bags. I don’t know what it’s worth now. It’s peaceful, that’s the main -thing, and it lives on grass.” - -This is really the country where wishes are horses, for you see beggars -riding. What a lot of wishes astray on these mountains! - -“Where have you been?” I asked. - -“Looking for a job.” - -“Where?” - -“On the new railway.” - -“Couldn’t you get one?” - -“No; there were thousands waiting, and they only took on two hundred, -and these at the lowest wage piece-work.” He mentioned some figure the -cubic foot. - -“How much can a man earn in a month if he goes at it hard?” I asked. - -“Twenty roubles (two guineas), not more,” said my acquaintance. - -Imagine it--for a job of ten shillings a week, bestial labour, in -the desert, under the Central Asian sun, something like a twenty to -one excess of supply over demand of labour, and the people waiting -weeks, months, on the chance. Surely nowhere but in Russia could -such a phenomenon be noted. There, as nowhere else in the world, is -a tremendous superfluity of white men’s hands. A firm of contractors -has this job from the Government; according to their schedule, labour -was to be paid for at a certain rate--a very low rate--but, seeing the -expectancy and the sad plight of the mobs of unemployed waiting at the -starting-point of the new line, they quite cheerfully make a handsome -reduction in favour of themselves. - -After our meal the beggar horseman went off on his nag, and I wandered -through the village on foot. Among other establishments in the village -was a photographer’s, and outside his little house was a notice: - - THOSE WISHING TO HAVE THEIR PHOTOGRAPHS TAKEN MAY HAVE A SHAVE FREE - -I went in to the photographer, and saw many photographs of shaven -colonists, all very stiff and serious looking. These were chiefly -pioneers and passers-by, the people of the caravans. It is strange how -unhappy everyone looks in a provincial portrait. The photographer, -however, did a good business. - -I settled down for the evening and the night in the sight of lovely -mountains. The sky cleared of wisps of cloud and discovered the stars. -The new moon, born surely that day, was but a hair of silver in the -west, and sank an hour after sunset, followed by a beautiful attendant -star. As I lay on the heath and looked upward, the first constellation -just formed, and it was the seven stars, delicate and lovely in the -half-night, as dainty as a maiden’s ornament. Showers of meteors, half -observed, slipped out of the dark into the dark; long single meteors -left, as it were, phosphorescent trails of light behind them. The -Asiatic mountains drew their cloaks round them, hardened their faces, -and slept as they stood away in the background. It became a night of -countless stars, each star a jewel set in the darkness. The night wind -came waving over the grass, full of health, gentleness and warmth. It -was never still all night, but never cold, and never a cloud touched -the vast glittering sky. - -Next night before falling asleep I witnessed an unusual phenomenon. -Away in the north a strange black ribbon seemed to be let down from -a cloud, and it fluttered in the air. I thought of America and -advertisement devices and of aeroplanes all in a second, and then -remembered I was in Central Asia, far away from the inventions of -civilisation. The ribbon came nearer, and as it passed overhead took a -wedge-shaped formation, and I saw it was composed entirely of birds. -They were flying across the heaven at a breathless speed, now in the -clouds, now out, and never breaking up their ranks, the big birds -seeming to be thick on top of one another in the front. On approaching -the line of snow peaks in the south, they defiled into a long, single -line, looking like some aerial train, and then easily, rapidly, -passed over Talas Tau and Hindu Kush to India, as I surmised, just -four hundred miles as they fly. The moon that night was a crescent -of pearl, and stayed a little longer in the sky. I watched her night -by night till she was full grown, and rose in the east the time the -sun was setting, and reigned in the sky the whole night. How pleasant -and serene the night weather remained! All night long the breeze -rippled and flapped in my sleeping-sack and crooned in the neck of my -water-bottle. Far up on the hills lights twinkled in Kirghiz tents, and -in the illumination of moonlight I faintly discerned black masses of -cattle beside which boys watched all night, playing their wooden pipes -and singing their native songs to one another. - -As far as High Village (Visokoe) the road remains with the Russians, -and their villages abound. After Visokoe there is forty miles of -moorland to Grosnoe, and then for a hundred miles there is not a -Russian settlement except the town of Aulie Ata. Journeying became -very difficult when the road was over deserted, empty moorland. The -sun poured down, there was not a glimpse of shade anywhere, seldom any -water, and seldom anything to eat. Even the grass was disappearing, and -the Kirghiz everywhere were moving, following the spring, with their -tents and their cattle and their camels, away from the scorched plains -up to the fresher slopes of the mountains. Often I rigged up my plaid -as a tent, often sat in the pale grey shadow of an ancient ruin or a -tomb. The emigrants who tended the oxen on the road were fain to climb -into the canvas-covered wagons and sleep, leaving the slow cattle to -trudge with the extra load through the dust. Russian Ascension Day -came, and the road was perfectly empty--for no one would travel on a -festival. All day long I met but one man, a native on a camel. For a -long time we walked within sight of one another, he allowing the camel -to graze when it felt inclined, but every now and then giving it a -kick, to which it responded by a plaintive groan and a jangling of the -bell round its neck. - -One might ask where is Tamerlane, where the warriors, the robbers, -the camp followers of the hordes? The Easterns you meet are all gentle -as children. No one needs to carry a weapon. Where is the old spirit -of fighting? The answer might be found, I suppose, in the thousands of -Cossacks and Russians who, later in the same year, returned along these -roads to fight against the Germans. - -The day before reaching Aulie Ata, in the heat of noon, I came in -sight of a green patch on the moors, and sought and found a bubbling -spring of clear water. “Here is the place,” thought I, “to make my -long-deferred cup of tea,” and I cast my knapsack on the moor and -looked around for a spot on which to make a fire. I had gathered a -few sticks along the road in case of need, so I had the foundation -of a little blaze. With what trouble did I keep that fire going till -the kettle boiled, rushing about for wisps of withered weed, hunting -for roots, for a straw, for anything that would burn, and all the -time anxious lest in my absence the pot should capsize. At last, as I -stood over the fire, there were symptoms of boiling, and I was just -rejoicing. Then suddenly all grew black around me, and I lost control -of my body and fell down. Such was the effect of the burning sun on my -neck and head. Perhaps this was something in the nature of a sunstroke. -Be that as it may, even at the moment of falling I got up again. For -what was my vexation to realise, even at the moment that I fell, that -my kettle had capsized. The fact brought me to my senses. I hardly -touched the ground before I started up again to save the water and the -fire. No luck; the water was all spilt, the fire out, and the kettle -lying in the ashes. I did not trouble to pick the kettle up. I sat down -by the spring, soaked a handkerchief, put it on my head, took out my -mug, and drank water--such a lot of water. - -What a day! I was to feel the effects of my sunstroke. A great thirst -took possession of me, and when I got to Aulie Ata a touch of fever, -which I had to fight. - -Aulie Ata the ancient, the tomb of the Holy One, is a mysterious and -umbrageous city. I became aware of its trees on my outward horizon -early one afternoon, when the mighty sun had just passed the zenith and -was beginning to beat on my shoulders. I had made my siesta at noon in -a tent I contrived with my plaid. I tied one corner to a telegraph pole -and tied stones to the other corners, and somehow made a canopy, and I -lay in a blaze of diffused light on the hard, dry, sandy steppe. Though -the wind blew, it was burning hot, and my right hand was swollen and -smarting, for I hold a strap of my knapsack with it as I march. I drank -the last drain of water in my water-bottle and made the melancholy -reflection that Central Asia is not a land to tramp in. I heard the -jun-jun-jun of camels, but did not care to put out my head to look at -them. I wished I had a tent, or a stout and voluminous umbrella. - -Still, one couldn’t stay in this spot all day, so I untied my blanket -from the telegraph pole and the stones, packed my knapsack, and set -off again into the dazzling brilliance of the open country. In about -half an hour I espied an old ruin in the wilderness, and ran along -to it, and found at the foot of the blanched wall three feet of -intense shadow, in which it was just possible to sit and keep in. A -villainous-looking scorpion seemed to be of the same opinion as I was, -but I was too lazy to kill him, so I just flicked him off into the sun. -Oh for some water, or some milk, or some koumis, but not a Kirghiz tent -was to be seen all around. The Kirghiz were twenty miles away up in the -green valleys of the Alexander mountains, where was pasture for their -herds. - -On the road once more! And then like a mirage I saw the long dark -streak of Aulie Ata on the eastern horizon. It was twelve to fifteen -miles away, but I thought it to be quite near. So clear is the -atmosphere, so prominent in the wide emptiness of the desert are the -trees of the Russian settlements, that one is constantly deceived as -to the distance of the place in front of one. And I greatly rejoiced -when I saw Aulie Ata; and although I was tired I resolved to get there -without further resting by the way. I walked and walked and my shadow -grew longer as the sun went down in the west behind me; but still the -line of trees seemed as remote as ever. Several times I asked myself: -“Am I not nearer?” and I was obliged to confess that I seemed no -nearer. It was like walking towards the horizon. “There is something of -magic about this city,” I thought. - -It was long before I came even to the irrigated fields of the -settlers, and only late in the dusk I arrived at the first outlying -streets of the town, and went in with the procession of cows returning -from the steppe to be milked in the yards of the colonists. In the -midst of the clamour and dust I arrived. As I hadn’t had anything to -drink since noon, and I daren’t touch the water of the irrigation -canals, I was just about as thirsty as it is possible to be. I -determined to stop at the first caravanserai, and there I had a big -teapot and five or six little basins of tea and a bottle of koumis, -and I stopped at the next caravanserai and had a bottle of lemonade -and seltzer water. Tired as I was, however, I did not seek a night’s -lodging, but went first to the post office, about two miles from -the entrance to the town, and I obtained the telegram I knew would -be waiting for me from Russia. I had arranged a little code so that -certain things I wanted to know could easily be told me “by wire.” -Letters take weeks. It had been pleasant to look at the wires by the -roadway as I walked and reflect that a message to me was, perhaps, -winging its way past me. And, sure enough, at the little post office my -telegram was waiting. - -After the post office I found a place at which to stay, a Russian inn -called the Hotel London; and so, to justify its name, took a room in it -and felt glad to have reached a city, even Aulie Ata the ancient. - -Aulie Ata is a strange town hid behind the foliage of its long lines -of trees. The running water courses along the canals, and, as at -Chimkent and Tashkent, bull-frogs croak in chorus. The foundation of -the settlement is Mohammedan. It was once a great holy place of the -Moslems, the shrine of some antique teacher. But Russia has taken the -upper hand and given a different aspect. There are scores of mosques -lifting their slender minarets above the verdure of the trees, but most -of the houses are Russian houses. And there are hotels, cinema shows, -restaurants, theatres, as well as farmhouses, shops, _sarais_, mud -dwellings, and fixed Kirghiz tents. - -Darkness had long since settled down on the town when I went forth to -find a restaurant. Here every restaurant is a _sad_, or garden. It is -fenced with bamboo; the tables are set among flower-beds and gravel -paths, and there is trellis-work with festoons of greenery hanging from -it, strange light and shade betwixt the moonlight and the lamplight and -the darkness. - -I found a garden kept by an Armenian, and had dinner by myself at a -table under a fruit-laden cherry tree luridly illumined and yet only -partially illumined by the blaze of a huge spirit lamp. Moths whirred -into vision and descended towards the white table-cloth, and heavy -beetles and locusts stunned themselves against the spirit lamp, and all -manner of winged vermin and midget danced in the light which seemed to -hang like drapery from the tree. - -[Illustration: THE NATIVE ORCHESTRA: SEE THE MEN WITH THE TEN-FOOT -HORNS, “TRUMPETS OF JERICHO” AS THE RUSSIANS CALL THEM] - -A waiter had taken my order, and a cook far away was cooking what I -had ordered, and I sat and rested and considered the day which at noon -had been ablaze in my improvised tent on the steppe and at night was -here in a lighted but shadowy restaurant-garden in a city. - -My dinner was brought, and all the time I was eating my _shashleek_ -(bits of lamb roasted on a skewer over charcoal) I listened to an -unearthly hubbub of bands--or of fire hooters, I could not tell which. -Every ten minutes there was an awesome silence, and then there outbroke -the blast of a horn, three times repeated, that sounded like the -trump of doom, _terumm_, _terumm_, _terumm_; then came the sound of -bagpipes and a throbbing of many drums, the horns breaking through the -lesser music at intervals and lifting the roof of the sky. This was an -appalling accompaniment to my meal. I had never heard anything like the -sound of that horn: - - _Terum--m--m, - Terum--m--m, - Terum--m--m._ - -It was like the blast - - Of that dread horn, - On Fontarabian echoes borne, - Which to King Charles did come, - When Roland brave and Olivier, - And every paladin and peer, - On Roncesvalles died! - -Like the horn of Roland blown in the desert and heard three hundred -leagues away. After dinner, I went off to find by ear the origin of -this hubbub. I went along towards the sound, and found it proceeded -from a native orchestra standing on the roof of a circus building. Here -two tall Sarts held in their hands horns ten feet long. They lifted -these horns to the sky and balanced them on their lips; they lowered -them and blasted their music over the roofs of the houses of the city; -they presented them at the heads of the crowd of sightseers, and made -many put their fingers to their ears and walk away: it was a terrifying -and astonishing noise. It was wonderful, however, the effect of the -three angles at which the horns were blown. You felt the first one -went right over the town, it was a voice from the stars, it leapt from -the dark emptiness of the desert on one side to the dark emptiness of -the desert on the other side of the city; the second, blown at the -people’s heads, was in the town and at the town, and caused the houses -to tremble; the third was blown, as it were, to the dead. - -These horns are traditional instruments of the Sarts, though it is -said there are only a few men alive who can blow them. It needs great -strength, and the degenerating race does not produce such fine men as -it did. The Russians call them the “trumpets of Jericho.” - -An astonishing advertisement for a circus. The sound of these horns -was too much for my temperament, and I fought shy of the show, though -I should otherwise have liked to go in. Still, a new stage in my -journeying had been reached, and I sought diversion, found a theatre, -and bought a seat to see a romance of ideal love. There were seven -people in the theatre, and after an hour we were all given our money -back and told that the company had gone to see the circus. I then went -to the cinema to see the much-advertised “spectacle” of “A Prisoner -of the Caucasus,” but I was informed that the “machine” was broken, -and that the next performance would be “on Friday, if God grant”--a -dark cinema-house where by the light of an oil lamp, which seemed -strangely out of place, one discerned a refreshment bar, a cashier’s -box, where should have been a girl selling tickets, curtains separating -the waiting-room from the theatre, and finally three or four hopeful -or disappointed would-be customers. I asked a Russian present if he -did not find in the noise of the horns something very horrifying and -suggestive, and he replied testily: - -“Oh, a great deal of noise, that’s all. Very trying for those who would -rather not hear it.” - -He did not feel as I did about the music at all, and his -matter-of-factness rather surprised me. The horns had to me the sense -of calling someone, something, and they were literally terrifying. - -In a depressed state of mind I wandered back to the Hotel London, and -found the landlady having a nail-to-nail fight with a woman lodger. -Both sides at once claimed me as a witness--the police were coming, and -I would testify. The landlady had broken into the lodger’s room and -told her to leave at once; the latter, a great, big, hysterical Russian -woman, had replied with fisticuffs and sobs and clamour. - -The landlady gave a very disparaging account of the woman lodger’s -present behaviour and past career. The woman lodger, under the strange -impression that she possessed good looks, tried to ingratiate me to -be on her side by giving me saucy looks and knowing smiles. The yard -porter had been sent for the police, and all the while there were -strident cries of “the police are coming”--and the horns kept up their -rumpus over the city, _terumm_, _terumm_, _terumm_. - -I was sorry my room had no key and that the window was shuttered from -the outside. The police came and ordered that the woman be allowed to -remain till the morning, and a silence settled down on the inn--silence -broken only by the sound of the horns of the orchestra a mile away. All -sorts of fancies possessed my mind and wrought me to a state of terror, -so that I was afraid of my dreams. - -What I dreamed that night has probably little to do with Russian -Central Asia, and yet I shall never think of my journey across this -wild and empty land without half recalling it involuntarily. Even if I -believed that dreams had never any definite prophecy or foreboding in -them, this one is one I should take to a dream interpreter. Now that I -know that all this summer a great war was in preparation and the dogs -of lust and hate were being unloosed, I can say to myself that I at -least had warning that the Devil was at large, that an evil spirit had -escaped into the world. - -I ought, perhaps, to tell first the dream which my friend G---- told -me before I left Vladikavkaz, when he warned me of a great impending -world calamity. G---- said that one night, after an arduous day’s work -teaching in class and coaching private pupils at home, he lay down on -his couch and dozed. Hardly had he fallen asleep, when three men of -Eastern aspect, dark faced, bright eyed, brown handed, with white robes -from their shoulders and white turbans on their heads, appeared to him -and pronounced six words in a loud, oracular voice and disappeared. A -second time they appeared and did the same. A third time they appeared -and pronounced them, and this time one of them took up a pen and made -as if to write. The words were not Russian, or, indeed, any language -which G---- knew, but after the third apparition and disappearance he -wakened up with a start and at once picked up an exercise-book and -wrote the words down. They were: _Imaktúr nites óides ilvéna varen -cevertae_. G---- had never been a student of the occult before, but -this caused him to consider. I begged G---- to write them down for me -and let me see how they looked in black and white. - -“Well, what do they mean?” I asked. - -“I cannot yet be sure,” said G----. “They are certainly part of -a language. Of that I am convinced. I have consulted many great -linguists, and whilst they cannot say what language it is or where its -lingual affinities are to be found, they all agree that it has the -nature of real language. I have thought, as I lived in the Caucasus -in the midst of so many Eastern tribes, that it might conceivably -be intelligible to one or other of them. I have questioned Ingooshi, -Ossetini, Khevsuri, but none recognised any likeness to any tongue they -had ever heard in the mountains. I have been to Petersburg, Berlin, -Paris to try and find out what the words meant, and all to no avail. -Specialists were most sympathetic, but could tell me nothing. However, -since then I have made a profound study of occult language, and have -arrived at some understanding of the significance of the dream. All I -can tell you is that a world calamity is coming, a great cataclysm or -natural subversion. We may expect great earthquakes. Germany certainly -is in danger.” - -The dream I had in Aulie Ata was certainly much worse than this. I -thought G---- rather crazy about this dream of his at the time, and -I listened incredulously to his prophecies. But if I regarded them -flippantly perhaps I was wrong. Certainly, if I held there was no such -verity as the occult I was wrong. - -They say that Fear stands on the threshold of the occult world, and as -my dream consciousness impinged upon it I experienced abject terror, a -terror that creeps through the marrow of the bones and lifts the roots -of one’s hair at a thought. - -I lay down in my dark room at the Hotel London at Aulie Ata after -the fight between landlady and lodger had ceased but whilst the Sart -orchestra still blew their horns over the city. The bed was a foot -short for my tired body; the shutters of the room were barred; I had -no lamp, but only a bit of candle of my own. After a fortnight spent -under the stars and in the immense open house of earth and heaven, it -was sufficiently oppressing and depressing in this shuttered chamber. -But I was tired with the tiredness of one who has tramped under a -sub-tropical sun from dawn to sunset and has added an evening of town -excitement to the weariness of a long journey. - -I had hardly lain down before I fell asleep. At once I began to dream. -I had been invited to a friend’s house, and was for a moment by myself -in his dining-room; there was nothing on the table but the cruet. I was -terribly thirsty, and I rushed to one of the bottles and began to drink -from it, but, my host coming along the corridor and into the room, I at -once put the bottle back and pretended that I had been doing nothing of -the kind. This awoke me. My eyes opened, and I thought to myself: “What -an absurd dream! What a dreadful thing pretending is. Why cannot we be -as we are? Manners is, in a way, pretence. Every polite man who comes -up to you to shake hands, if we only knew it, has been doing something -the moment before as impossible as drinking the contents of the cruet. -Mankind are pretenders. The spirit is truth, but the incarnation is a -mask. The whole aspect of humanity is a pretending to be what it is -not....” - -I was rather struck by the thought, but lapsed into sleep again. And -then came my terrible dream. In the depths of my sleep a voice suddenly -cried out the most terrifying words I think I have ever heard, and -they were: “_A great dissimulator has escaped, shut in prison from -everlasting._” - -At that I started up from my bed with the perspiration on my brow and -the most hideous fear of the Devil. I felt that some new evil spirit -was at large and was seeking a home in a man. My earlier thought came -back to me--all spirits are dissimulators, whether they be devils -or angels, and we men and women are all angels pretending to be men -and women. But now I knew that some devil from which the world had -mercifully been preserved (from everlasting) had escaped into our life, -and would take the form and the appearance of a man somewhere. I had -intelligence of the Antichrist. And now that we are all in the depths -of this war I ask myself sometimes is there a genius of evil in all -this, has the Antichrist perhaps appeared? Does not the fact that St. -George and the angels (the angels, at least, of Mons) are fighting on -our side suggest that the evil powers incarnate are on the other side? - -It was two in the morning; the Sarts had stopped blowing their horns, -there was a breathless stillness. I wakened up the hotel porter and -bade him open the shutters of my windows. I lit my candle, took up -pen and paper, and wrote a long letter home. I took out Vera’s ikon -of Martha and Mary, and put it in front of me. I looked at it and -wrote--wrote, wrote. I told all the happenings of the long day past, -the tramping, the sun, the far away vision of Aulie Ata, the strange -town, the Sart orchestra, the Armenian garden restaurant, the Hotel -London, the fight of the two women, the dream of the dissimulator. -I was afraid the candle would go out before dawn. Dawn seemed a long -time coming. But at last the nightingales began to sing, _p-r-r-r-r_ -... _sweet_, _sweet_, _sweet_. A muezzin was calling through the dark -night. How resonant his voice! Somehow it went with the nightingale’s -song. - - A muezzin from the dark tower cries - Fools, your reward is neither here nor there. - -Again muezzins from the dark mosques of the city. Suddenly the cocks -gave an extraordinary chorus, and I knew it must be near dawn, and a -cart came lumbering by. Pale rents appeared through the willow trees -that hid the sky. My candle grew little and yellow and flickering, -but it lasted, and I wrote on and on, page after page, till it was -bright morning. Then I lay down and slept an hour, and I had saved -myself, perhaps, from fever. In any case, I had lived through a waking -nightmare. - -By day Aulie Ata was, perhaps, less mysterious, but there still -remained a sense of remoteness. It was difficult to imagine European -people living there all the year round and calling it “home.” It is -an oasis, it is true, but it might be truer to call it a sub-tropical -swamp. It is fed by a mountain river, the Talass, which flows off and -loses itself in the desert. But there is plenty of water and a great -deal of verdure is possible, a very large settlement. - -Aulie Ata has its cathedral standing in the midst of a pleasant -shadowy garden. It has its bazaar, and its trotting-ground for a horse -fair and cattle market. Here were numbers of Sartish shops where bread -and hot meat-pies were sold. Scores of Kirghiz on horseback or on bulls -blundered about amidst cattle and mud. Young men were trying horses and -showing their paces; others were making deals in sheep and goats. The -sheep for sale were tied in long or short knots, threaded by the heads -as Russians thread onions. - -As a general rule a sheep was reckoned as being equivalent in value -to a three-rouble note, and many of the Kirghiz had brought up their -sheep merely as money, and when they bought six shillings’ worth of -stuff at some shop they detached a sheep from their coil and passed him -on to the shopman. So I saw for the first time in my life the literal -significance of _pecunia_ as the Romans understood it.[C] - -Aulie Ata is subject to earthquakes, and my landlady explained how one -morning she was washing the floor of her establishment, bending down -over her floorcloth with her legs apart, and suddenly she felt her legs -going farther apart--by which lively figure she meant to explain how -earthquakes are felt. - -The chief sights of the city were the caravans of emigrants toiling -onwards towards the farther East. Here were no farms for them, no -encouragement given to settle. For there is now no particular political -need for the colonisation of Sirdaria; the Russians are far more -powerful than the native population, and could never be overthrown by -an uprising or mutiny. The Government encourages emigration to the -points where it is politically most advantageous--that is, on the very -frontier lines. The most vigorous irrigation and settlement work goes -on on the frontiers of China, Afghanistan and Persia. The colonists -have a long road in front of them even after they have reached Aulie -Ata. I myself went on with them. - -The weather changed whilst I was at Aulie Ata; torrential rain came -down, rain brought down by the mountains, and only deluging their own -slopes and the country in the immediate vicinity. The desert twenty -miles away remained, no doubt, as parched as ever. The River Talass, -in flood outside the town, presented an unwonted spectacle; the wide, -black, diversified, shingly river, the lowering clouds overhead, the -restless wind from the mountains spitting and promising rain, the -emptiness and dreariness of the world all around, except at the place -where the bridge should have been--but from which it had been lately -washed away--and there, an ever-increasing collection of straw or -canvas tilted wagons and carts, and of oxen, camels and horses, all the -caravans of the emigrants, waiting, as it were, for a ferryman to take -them to another world. - -I got over at last on a Kirghiz horse, and was pretty nearly soaked -in the passage. On the other side was a more desolate country. It was -wilder, more broken, perhaps a little greener, but there were very few -farms. Even the Kirghiz seemed of a poorer and dirtier type. I bought -milk at the Kirghiz tents and bread and eggs at the post stations. -At one post-house I had a chicken cooked for me. The heat was not so -trying on this road, for clouds had come over and rain had laid the -dust. I had a sense of travelling in the opposite direction of the way -of the seasons. It had been like June in Tashkent, but here it was -early May. Still, the temperature in the shade must have reached 90° -Fahr. - -I slept three nights in the open and tramped three days before I -finally passed out of the province of Sirdaria and entered the -Semiretchenskaya Oblast, Seven Rivers Land, the remotest of the Tsar’s -dominions, remoter than the Far East, because there is no communication -either by rail or river. On my right the great chain of mountains -with snowy summits still stretched on, and on my left the everlasting -moorland. More birds appeared on my way, partridges, bustards, snipe, -eagles, cranes. Straying off the road and up to the first rising ground -of the mountains were a species of little deer, called here _kosuli_. -Marmots popped in and out of sand burrows, occasionally falling a prey -to day-flying owls. The jerboa, with long tail and dainty, bird-like -legs, was a pretty visitor, and among insects the green praying-mantis -was noticeable, the cicada a nuisance, and various spiders and -beetles the bane of night-tide. I was constantly warned against the -hairy-legged _falanga_ and a black spider (the karakurt), both of which -were said to have a mortal bite, though sheep could eat them without -harm. Along the road laborious and stupid-looking beetles rolled their -globular homes of gathered dirt. - -Slow travelling out here is very featureless, and I grew tired of -tramping all day, the emptiness of the life, and the dullness of mere -sun and road as companions. What was my disappointment the second -noon to lose a lift that would have taken me thirty versts on at the -cost of a rouble. I had just got up from a siesta under my plaid tent -when a countryman came along with a cart full of clover--food for his -horse--and I bargained with him and got a seat literally “in clover.” -We proceeded thus for a mile when we came to a mud-built caravanserai, -and stopped to have tea. Up to this inn came presently another cart -from the other direction. It contained all his wife’s family, the -people he had been setting out to see. They had had a similar impulse -to come and visit him. In that way I lost my lift, and could hardly -share their joy at the happy meeting. - -At Merke, however, the second colonial settlement in Seven Rivers -Land, I hired a _troika_ to Pishpek, three horses yoked to an _arba_ -(a native cart), the driver a Kirghiz. This is the usual mode of -travelling for Russians on business in Central Asia. The _troika_ -stands instead of the train. But what an impression! - -The Kirghiz driver, in rags and tatters, sitting on one hip on his bare -wooden driving-seat, lounging to and fro, one shoulder up, one down, -flicking the three galloping horses with his whip, whistling, shouting. - -The horses bounding along, neck by neck, over bump, over crevice, over -chasm; up hill, down dale, never slackening (there is no brake to the -wooden _arba_); coming with a great splash on to a stream, the _arba_ -just floating on it as the horses plunge through it; out again, up the -bank; what matter stones--even milestones? What a contrast to the way I -crawled along when walking! - -We go along roads that are like dried-up river beds, over roads little -better than mountain tracks. Ever and anon I am nearly shot out of the -cup of dry clover and hay on which I am sitting. I am flung against the -sides, I grasp at the stained Joseph coat of the Kirghiz, I clasp him -round the shoulders. - -But the Kirghiz smiles and whistles and shouts again. The horses -whisper hurried secrets to one another in their rhythmical threefold -devouring of space. We go not by versts or by miles, but by leagues. -There are no steamboats, trains, motor-cars, aeroplanes in Seven Rivers -Land, but the _troika_ combines these all in one. - -As we go along the level high road the whole country behind us is -blotted out from view by clouds of our dust. We never hesitate as we -dash through market-places and thronged colonial villages. What matter -who is in the way; the _troika_ goes on straight ahead, always seeming -likely to collide as we dash towards other carts or charge into passing -horsemen, the averted horses’ faces breathing into my face as we pass. - -The way is always in the view of the snowy mountains and comparatively -seldom in view of houses. It is the land of the tent-dwellers, and -the moors are dotted with grey pyramids and columns, the temporary -dwelling-places of the nomads. Now and then a whole patriarchal family -of the wanderers crosses the road on its journey from the parched -plains up to the greener pasture lands of the hills. They have their -tents and all their goods on camels’ backs; they drive with them -hundreds of head of sheep and goats and cows and mares. They ride -themselves on camels, horses, bulls; their white-turbaned wives, often -four to each man, ride astride of bulls, their faces uncovered, babies -at their bare breasts. Brides--girls of thirteen or fourteen--ride in -extraordinary state in their midst, seated on palfreys with scarlet -horsecloths, themselves clad in bright cottons, their hair in many -glistening black plaits, each loaded with a silver bullet to keep it -from entangling with sister plaits. They also sit astride, and ride -with wonderful grace, as if conscious of being the treasure of the -whole caravan. They are good to look upon. - -We pass endless lines of wagons drawn by toiling oxen or little, jaded -ponies, and tended by burly Russian peasants and their plump, laughing, -perspiring womenkind--emigrants going to settle in the youngest of -Russian colonies a thousand miles or more from a railway station. We -have to turn off the road and tumble over the rough moorland in order -to circumvent hundreds of such emigrant wagons. We overtake and -pass the equivalent of whole goods trains--long strings of lorries -and pack-carts and camels, piled with consignments of goods to be -delivered all along the way from Southern Siberia on the one hand and -from Orenburg and Tashkent on the other to the limits of the Himalaya -Mountains. We pass, or, as it happens, get entangled in a mile of -camels, each having on its back a mountain of horsehair or wool, some -twenty couples of dirty camels in a company, each company led by a -Chinese Mohammedan on an ass, a _Dunkan_. - -We pass the mud-walled, mud-domed, ace-of-spade-like tombs of the -Kirghiz; we pass ruins of ancient towers, battered caravanserais. -We escape from the desert into a sort of artificial oasis made by -irrigation--the Russian village or Cossack _stanitza_. We change horses. - -At nightfall I overtake a lady going to the town where her sweetheart -lives. She is in a hurry that brooks no delay. There are only horses -for one, so I offer her a place in my _arba_. She is accompanied by -many boxes and bags. She wants to go on all night, no matter---- - -[Illustration: “PAST THE RUINS OF ANCIENT TOWERS”] - -Twilight turns to darkness, the moon comes out fair and large, -opposite the setting sun. The clouds are lit with gentle light and a -faint colouring. The _troika_ goes on and on. I lie full length in -the _arba_, my head on a pillow which my companion has lent me, and I -look up at the sky. The night is gentle and touching. The Kirghiz is -silhouetted above us; the moon is now shining full upon us; in a -moment it is cut off by the black line of the roof of the cart, but -even then the sky is the more beautiful for a hidden presence. We sit -up and look into the night landscape. - -The moon gives glimmering illumination to squads of poplars, waving -cornfields, silver streams, the thatched roofs of cottages, mud huts. -The nightingale sings the short night through, owls hoot, dogs rush out -at us as if they were fired from farm-yards, but the laconic driver -flicks them with his long whip when they get near the horses’ legs, and -they fall each into the rear and slink back to the dark yards whence -they came. - -We leave behind populous villages, and issue on to the moors. Night -hides the scarlet poppies, but the air contains their odours. The moon -no longer stands over the black mound of the horizon, but has climbed -over the zenith. The cocks are crowing, my companion is sleeping, the -bells of the _troika_ are chingle-dingling, chingle-dangling all the -time. - -We have to change horses, however. We get a samovar in the waiting -time, and Zinaida--such is her name--becomes an excited chatterbox. It -is only fifty miles to her goal and her sweetheart. She tells me how -she met him, what sort of life they will lead when they are married, -the name of their first boy, should they have one. - -Two scalding glasses of tea, and then into the _arba_ once more, -with fresh horses, and a new Kirghiz driver wakened up to take us. -Zinaida’s boxes are corded on securely, her bandboxes are better -bestowed away, she makes a more comfortable arrangement of quilts and -pillows, and we lie back and both fall asleep. - -When next we change horses sun pales the stars. It is the last change. -Twenty miles more and our winged chariot flies up the courtyard of the -town post-house. I am stiff. Zinaida, however, is as fresh and nimble -as a young deer. A young man with a pallid face is waiting for her on -the post-house steps, and she jumps down to him in a trice, and he -folds her in his arms and kisses her. - -We passed through Bielovodsk and Novy Troitsky, the latter being an -extensive Cossack station, where all the village men have red stripes -on their trousers, and where even the little boys riding the horses in -from the steppe have red-striped breeches cut down from father’s. The -Cossacks are soldiers first and peasants only second or third. Whilst -farming they are understood to be “on leave,” and when war breaks out -they are at once at the direct service of the Tsar on the field of -battle. Novy Troitsky was a Cossack camp in the days of the conquest of -Central Asia, and when pacification was consummated the Cossacks were -invited to send for their sweethearts, wives, mothers, families, and -settle on the pick of the land chosen out for them by the Government. -There are many such settlements; they are called _stantsi_, or -stations, whereas the other settlements are called _derevnyi_, villages. - -On the whole, Seven Rivers Land seemed to be more fruitful than -Northern Sirdaria. The settlements were very large ones; there were -many enormous villages with schools, churches, big general stores and -several thousand inhabitants. Pishpek, however, was not quite so large -as Aulie Ata. The populations of the colonial towns on my route may -give an idea of these growing agricultural communities: - - _Inhabitants_ - Chimkent 64 versts from railway station 15,756 - Aulie Ata 242 ” ” ” 19,052 - Pishpek 505 ” ” ” 16,419 - Verney 743 ” ” ” 81,317 - Kopal 1,102 ” ” ” 3,966 - Sergiopol 1,352 ” ” ” 2,261 - -These figures are taken some years ago, and probably twenty per cent. -should be added to the numbers now. These are the biggest. - - * * * * * - -The towns of this colony are not connected with Western Europe either -by rail or waterway, and there is an unexampled provincialism in -the country. The people are far away by themselves, and they have -consequently developed a distinctive local patriotism. The Central -Asian pioneers are great talkers about their own country, and they are -proud of everything that marks it out as different from Russia and -the rest of the world. They are proud of its vast empty spaces, its -mountains, its wild beasts and birds, its tigers, wild boars, aurochs, -wild goats, its falcons, flamingos, partridges; proud of the Kirghiz, -of the tortoises, of the camels--in fact, of anything and everything -that seems to mark the country as original. Its people are all hunters. -The engineer, the “topograph,” the “hydro-technic,” the land surveyor, -the Cossack, the peasant colonist, all carry the gun. The towel-hooks -and hat-pegs in their houses are goat horns and antlers. The words of -the colonists’ mouths run out in hunting-stories. All journeys are made -on horseback or by post-horses, and the people are always moving to and -fro. Even the colonists shift about from one settlement to another--by -arrangement with the colonisation authorities. - -I met many people on my journey: two _khodoki_, foot messengers from a -village in Kursk government, sent by the villagers to spy out the land -and choose a plot for colonisation, but now hastening back in order -to be home by St. Peter’s Day and the cutting of the barley. Land was -scarce with them; all in the hands of the landowners. The population -increases--so many children always are born--but the free land does -not increase. The two _khodoki_ had not, however, found what they -wanted in Semi-retchie, and were returning to Kursk with a tale of -disillusionment. “They told us it was heaven out here, and you reaped -harvests just after throwing out the seed. But it appears there is as -much work here as there,” said they. - -I met a commercial traveller, a “_voyageur_, the representative of a -certain firm,” as he called himself. He was travelling post-horses, -and had a large chest of travelling samples, which was roped on to -the back of his _britchka_. He was carrying Moscow cottons in bright -assortments of colours and patterns, and when he came to a town where -there were ten cotton shops he went into each rapidly and deposited a -complete set of his samples, and left them with the shopkeepers for an -hour or so while he had his dinner and had a shave and a bath. In that -way he met me, resting while the shopowners and their friends discussed -his goods. Commercial travellers in tea, sugar, cotton, china, ironware -and other dry goods were very frequent on the road, but were mostly -Tartars or Armenians. - -I also met a boy going home from the University of Kief, going home to -Verney, and in a tremendous hurry to get back to his mother and the -girl he left behind him a year ago. He was “agin the Government,” and -imagined that England was ahead of Russia in every way, and wondered -what the English would not have done with Central Asia had it been -theirs. “Just think of the wealth in these mountains,” said he. “Just -imagine it; we have not one mine in this vast territory twice the size -of Germany. We have only one factory--a lemonade factory.” - -“Its destiny seems to be agricultural,” said I. - -“What is student life like at Kief?” I asked. “Do you meet together -much? Are there debates, literary discussions? What’s in the air?” - -He could not tell me if there was anything in the air. Life was duller -there than formerly. The students kept more to themselves; but they -had a _Semi-retchinsky_ club. All students from Seven Rivers lived -together, and they had musical evenings and dances. It was pleasant; -the _Semi-retchenski_ were great patriots in their way. - -At Pishpek I had a delightful meeting with a Government -topographer--Nazimof, a man of thirty, of gentle birth, elegant, -graceful, old-fashioned. I met him at an inn. I had been put into his -room by a grasping landlady who would not confess she was full up and -could take no more visitors. After somewhat of a “scandal,” raised by -the topographer, it was agreed that I should share his room. Every -corner was occupied with his professional equipment--long iron map -cases with padlocks, chests of instruments, tent poles, carpet chairs, -rolls of canvas, boxes of books, papers and clothes. - -“Excuse all this,” said he. “I am taking it up into the mountains as -soon as I get news that the snow has melted a little.” - -He explained that he was on Government service, charting maps. He -was going to live the whole summer up among the mountain passes and -literally bathe in snow. He would rig up his tents by the aid of the -Kirghiz, hunt, shoot, survey, chart, discover, without any other -fellow-European with whom to share fellowship. - -We spent two days together in Pishpek, and talked of many things. His -brother had been sent to Jerusalem this year by the Orthodox Palestine -Society to inquire into the conditions under which the peasants -journeyed and the exploitation of the aged pilgrims by the steamship -company and the Greek monks. He had brought back just such a tale of -woe and of happiness as I had myself to tell after my pilgrimage. A -good deal is going to be done to better the conditions of the pilgrims’ -journey, and there is even a proposal that the Government take the -pilgrims on their own boats. I wondered whether it was worth while -interfering, and I told my own experiences on that journey and gave my -impression; the telling introduced me. - -My new friend told me how much he wanted to get away from Seven Rivers -Land and see the world. Once, as a boy on a Russian training-ship, he -had landed at Newcastle, and had seen something of England--had even -slept in a sailors’ rest. He would like to _see_ England, to come and -live there, and understand the country and the nation, to see America, -also Australia. He liked being up in the mountains, working by himself -in the fresh mountain air, talking to chance-met Kirghiz, shooting wild -goats and partridges. But by the end of the summer he would be terribly -bored. He would come down from the mountains, rush into Verney, -complete his maps, and then bolt for Petersburg. He thirsted for human -society all the summer through. - -He was always dressed in white, and wore a fez on his shaved head. He -sat with me hours in a bamboo _palatka_ in the one garden restaurant of -Pishpek, and we talked over koumis, over roast chicken, over tea, over -wine. At night, too, when he lay on a broken-down bedstead and I on a -dusty divan, he prattled of his wife and children that he was sick -to leave behind, and of the boy in himself which made him always seek -loneliness and adventures, however much his heart bade him remain at -home. - -“I wouldn’t change my lot, but still it is wrong to marry at twenty, -as I did. There are so many partings and it is a great pain. A young -man has things to do in the world, and he is bound to put his wife and -family in the background; his ties are his pains. Most happy marriages -are made of men of middle years, when they have made a little fortune -and can take things more easily. When a stout, old man marries a young -girl, moreover, there is generally a happy, healthy family.” - -“But surely you don’t mean to say that old men are better fathers than -young men?” I urged. - -“Yes; they have fewer stakes in the world. They are not called on to -go and chart the valleys and peaks of the Thian Shan Mountains. They -know they will not be called on to fight for their country. They know -they’ve got enough money to educate their children and keep up a good -home. They are not so fretful, not so irritable as young men, but -good natured, easy going, and a pretty girl can make one do what she -desires.” - -I surmised he must have quarrelled with his wife a little just before -leaving, and be sick at heart to get back home and make it up. - - * * * * * - -Pishpek, though four hundred miles from a railway station, is a -promising town. The climate seemed to be a hot and dry one, though, of -course, it is easy to be misled by the chances of the weather. There -are long, white streets, with ranks of poplars on each side, a big -market-place, a high road of shops and colonial stores, many places -where _Kvass_ and aerated waters are sold, garden restaurants. There is -not the atmosphere of mystery that Aulie Ata has. It is more colonial -and less Eastern, though, of course, there are the inevitable Oriental -hawkers and the native bazaar. Pishpek has a camel ambulance, a roughly -shaped wood-sleigh with enormously long shafts, to which a Bactrian -camel is yoked. Pishpek also has its lepers, and, as in all these -Eastern towns, there is a great deal of skin disease, though chiefly -among the natives. - -The colonists seemed fairly well-to-do, though there was little -evidence of culture, few books, no pianos; the cinema, it is true, but -that is rather a sign of poverty. But the Russians seemed thriving and -everyone seemed to have plenty of horses and cattle. In this country, -where wishes are horses, even the hawker of bootlaces in the bazaar has -his nag tied to a poplar tree near by. - -The Kirghiz going from the parched plains up into the mountains let -me understand the changing of the season. The road out from Pishpek -led into desolate country, and I was troubled by the heat and the -difficulty of obtaining food and drink. I carried four pounds of bread -with me out of Pishpek, but that very quickly vanished, some eaten by -myself, some by ants. Ants got into my bread at night and riddled it -so that I could not break off a fragment without an ant appearing in -it. I carried two water-bottles with me, and filled them with milk -or water when I could. Neither milk nor water seemed to be very good -to drink. The best thing out here is the aerated water, apricot or -pineapple; it is very thirst-quenching and a good corrective to the -stomach. When my European bread gave out I had to eat _lepeshka_, which -I cannot recommend. It seems a possible diet when one is hungry, and if -you have wine to wash it down you feel you are making a beautiful meal. -One afternoon, however, I had a _très mauvais quart d’heure_ after -_lepeshka_. A lump of it stuck in my gullet and would not go down and -could not come up. I thought I was choked. - -A melancholy native stands with a tray of _lepeshki_ in the road, and -you buy three for five copecks--three rolls for five farthings. No -matter how hard they are, they can be soaked and softened in tea. But I -often wondered what gave the cement-like quality to them. On the road I -have often felt that my diet was unsuitable, but never have I had such -indigestion as on a diet of mare’s milk and _lepeshka_. It is claimed -that mare’s milk is the best thing in the world for the stomach. Koumis -cleanses and fortifies and freshens everything; it is the mother of the -inside. But it does not dissolve _lepeshka_. I was told that it was -difficult to tell the difference between champagne and mare’s milk. - -“But, to start with, one is white,” said I. - -“Oh, it’s not the colour; it’s the quality.” - -[Illustration: A SETTLED KIRGHIZ: ONE OF THE CHARACTERS OF PISHPEK] - -“It is best when it is thick.” - -“It’s not a matter of being thick or thin, but in the tingling taste -and the exuberance and happiness you feel after it.” - -“Well, I’ve nothing to say against koumis.” - -I kept a diary of on what and how I spent my money on the road, and the -entries run like this: - - _Monday._ _Copecks._ - Boiling water 5 - Koumis 10 - -- - 15 - - _Tuesday._ - Boiling water 3 - Lepeshka 5 - Milk 5 - -- - 13 - - _Wednesday._ - Koumis 10 - Pilgrim 5 - Beggar 2 - Milk 10 - Kvass 3 - -- - 30 - - _Thursday._ - Lepeshka 5 - Sheep’s milk 5 - Koumis 10 - -- - 20 - -And so on; a poor budget. The greatest disappointments of this journey -were the absence of fuel and the great difficulty of making a fire. -It took something like two hours to collect enough straw and withered -grass and splinters of wood to make a fire. And the dried camel-dung -blocks would not burn. As I tramped I made it a golden rule to pick up -and put in my knapsack every bit of combustible material that my eye -lighted upon on the road, but even so it often happened that I had to -buy hot water at some dusty, broken-down caravanserai or in a Russian -inn or from some Tartar draper. - -Night in an inn or post-house or under the resplendent Asian stars! Hot -day toiling over empty moors and across half-empty deserts, staying in -shady Russian villages, going up the yards of the farmhouses with my -pot in hand asking for milk, drinking about a pint of milk, and filling -my two bottles so that I might have something better than water with -which to quench my thirst when I was out on the road again; talking to -the farmers; riding behind the reckless Kirghiz and his three horses; -and then night again and its problems and charms! - -Seventeen versts beyond Pishpek is Constantinovka, and seventy-one -versts, Kurdai. Russian settlement is rather sparse until Kazanskaya -Bogoroditsa and Linbovinskaya are reached, and these are in the urban -district of Verney, the capital of the colony. There is an enormous -amount of room for human beings here and, when the railway comes along -and puts stations every twenty miles or so from European Russia, all -the way, to Kuldja in China. - -After the Cossack village of Linbovinskaya, with its shops and bazaar, -comes the approach to Verney, and the high road is worn into many -tracks and is broad and deep in dust. Along these come many equipages -and picnic carts with pleasure parties of Russians, and for the first -time since leaving Tashkent there was a suggestion of the life of -a large provincial town. But, after all, Verney was only a larger -Pishpek. - - - - -IX - -THE PIONEERS - - -All the way to Verney the carts are travelling eastward, but on the -road to Kopal two processions meet one another; the colonists coming -from Tashkent meet the colonists coming from Omsk and Semipalatinsk. It -struck me that those coming from the North were a poorer, harder, more -jaded people than those who had accompanied me from the West. Perhaps -that was because the journey from Siberia was more trying and there -was less to eat on the way, or because the people who came by way of -the northern road were from provinces of Russia where the standard of -living and the average of health were lower. - -The pioneers were a rugged sort of folk. They walked with their oxen -and horses, they wandered all over the sandy wastes looking for roots -and straws, and fifty people would spend hours getting enough fuel to -make a fire to boil their pots. They got covered in white dust; their -boots were through; their feet blistered; their carts broke down or -cattle died; but still the band went on patiently, cheerily. They went -very slowly, and I overtook many bands as I walked. I would fall in -with the caravan at evening, and listen with an involuntary thrill to -the great choruses these people sang as they went. They chaffed one -another, gossiped, shouted to the cattle, sang with as much easy-going -cheerfulness as if they were in their native province and driving the -cattle in from their own pasture lands, and not threading the road -across the silent deserts of Central Asia. I would see another party -afar off at ten in the morning, a grey-brown mass on the horizon, and -catch it up by twelve noon. And there would be a strange sight: not a -single peasant walking or in sight. Only the creaking, slowly moving, -patient carts and the clumsy, straining oxen or little ponies, going on -by themselves without the flick of a whip or the whisper of a master’s -voice. And, coming close up to the wagons, I would hear snoring. The -whole caravan would be sleeping and snoring in the shelter of the -tarpaulin tilts, and yet going ever slowly on, slowly on, through the -blaze of the Asian noon-day, over the desert, toward the happy valleys -of the East. - -I suppose that, but for the instinctive movements of the Russian people -and the seeking spirit, it would be difficult for the Government to -settle these remote tracts of the Russian Empire. People would not go -simply because of the grants they obtain. It is the wandering spirit -that is the foundation of the Empire. In Central Asia the officials -complain that the people who come are not like those who remain behind -in Russia; they are the most restless of all Russians. They have -wandered thus far, but they have no wish to settle down even now. They -take up land, build villages, till the soil, but sure enough after -a few years they are itching to move on farther. The majority of -colonists are people who have come not direct from Russia, but from -some less remote farm or homestead in Turkestan, Seven Rivers Land, or -Siberia. And these people do not recognise the arbitrary limits of the -Russian Empire, but stray over in considerable numbers into Persia, -Mongolia, and Chinese Tartary. It is true that the Government exercises -considerable control upon the movements of the pioneers. It indicates -each year what tracts of territory are open to colonisation, what -developments have been made in the irrigation system, and shows spots -where villages may be built. The colonial village is not a haphazard -growth such as is the ordinary European village. It does not simply -grow; it is planned by the Government engineers and indicated in a -schedule before ever a single inhabitant has set eyes on it. - -[Illustration: THE IRRIGATED DESERT--AN EMBLEM OF RUSSIAN COLONISATION -IN CENTRAL ASIA] - -When the harvest has been taken in in Russia many peasants go on -pilgrimage to shrines and many go out in quest of new land. The -_khodoki_, or walkers, set out. A village or a family sends out a -messenger to seek new land; this messenger is called a _khodok_. The -_khodoki_ are specially encouraged by the Government. The police will -not allow a whole village to take to the road and go off all together -in quest of land; they insist on the _khodok_ going first and booking -something in advance. Very great reductions are made in railway fares -and great facilities are given to the _khodoki_, who go forth and look -at all the valleys and irrigated levels at the disposal of the -colonists during the year in question. They travel in twos and threes, -one _khodok_ being required for each three families. - -When the _khodoki_ come back, after three weeks, or it may be three -months, or three years, there is necessarily tremendous excitement in -the village. They cannot then disclaim the _khodok’s_ authority to have -taken land in their name, or in any case they very seldom do disclaim -it. It often happens, of course, that the _khodoki_ return saying -that they have found nothing better than their own land and their own -village, and that, consequently, they do not recommend a move. Many -of the _khodoki_ I met on the road were well-to-do peasants who had a -stake in the old country and would not readily advise their constituent -villagers to sell out and come to Central Asia. Still, more than half -of the messengers sent out come back with a positive message. They have -found and taken land. - -Whether the _khodok_ has done well or ill, the families set out. It -happens occasionally that the messengers choose death-traps and places -of eternal desolation, and they are terribly blamed. But it ought to -be remembered that Government engineers and agricultural specialists -have indicated the sites as possible before ever the _khodoki_ set -eyes on them; or a Russian general, visiting a district, has said: -“Plant fifteen villages on the eastern slopes of this range of hills,” -or “twenty villages along this valley,” and it has been done simply -because he wanted Russian villages for strategical considerations. - -The manner of settling the Empire is so interesting to us that I append -a summary of the information given to all Russians desirous to emigrate -to the Russian colonies. This is for the year 1914: - -The provinces open to colonisation this year are those of Uralsk, -Turgaisk, Akmolinsk, Semipalatinsk, Seven Rivers, Tobolsk, Tomsk, -Yenisei, Irkutsk, Transbaikal, Amur, and Primorsk. Also Yakutsk, -Sakhalin, and Kamchatka. - -_The following people are allowed to settle beyond the Ural._--All -peasants and _meshtchane_, those engaged exclusively in agriculture, -and also artisans, workmen, factory hands, merchants and shopkeepers. -People of other classes must, before emigrating, apply to the governor -of the province in which they live. - -_The Government invites no one to emigrate, and is anxious only to show -all possible help to those who have decided to take that step, and to -make the emigration laws and the grants and privileges accorded to -colonists clear to everyone._ - - -EMIGRATION OF AGRICULTURISTS - -_All agriculturists thinking of crossing into Asia should first think -well: Is there not some way of improving the home land and remaining on -it?_ - -Having become owners of your land at home (by the completion of -purchase after the liberation from serfdom), it is possible to let -part of it out to others, or by careful culture greatly increase the -harvest, or you can mortgage it to the Peasants’ Bank and buy other -land, either in your own or in a neighbouring province. - -It is another matter when the land you possess is so little that there -is none to let out or mortgage, or when it is difficult to buy suitable -land at all near, when the land offered by Government or private owners -becomes year by year less and the prices year by year higher. - -Then it is worth while considering the question of emigration to -Asiatic Russia, where there is still much space. The Government assigns -land to the extent of 25-50 dessiatinas a farm or 8-15 dessiatinas for -each male soul. Or it is possible to settle in a village or Cossack -station by special arrangement, and lease land cheaply from settled -colonists. To enable people to travel to such places the Government -helps with cheap tariffs and money grants. - -During the past seven years more than three million souls have firmly -established themselves in this way, and in many places it may be said -that the colonists have become rich and live in a more flourishing way -than they did on the old lands at home. But it must be remembered that -such results are not attained at once. It is not a little heavy labour, -grief and poverty that have to be undergone during the first years in -the new place. Not every family has the strength to bear such trial. -It is reckoned that of every hundred families going across the Ural -fifteen return to the old country after having failed to take root -in the new. It is hard for families where the general health is weak, -where there are not good working hands, or where there is no money -whatever to start with. Such families would do better not to stir; -better to work a bit more on the home lands till they get some means to -take up new land and try and develop it. - - -THE EMIGRATION OF FACTORY HANDS AND ARTISANS - -The towns and villages are greatly in need of people knowing trades. -Especially great is the need in the provinces of Amur, Primorsk, and -Transbaikal, where railways, fortresses, and barracks are being built, -and where mining, fishing and lumbering are in full swing. More than -a hundred thousand men are employed annually on the Government works -alone, and private firms want more. Unskilled labourers, brickmakers, -joiners, diggers, bricklayers, sawyers, locksmiths, glaziers, miners, -and anyone who has any special knowledge or knack, willing hands and a -heart to work. - -Wages are higher than in European Russia, and all manner of help is -given in transport. There is a great reduction of fares on the Siberian -Railway, and every _artel_ of workmen contracted for the Government, -and also for many private businesses in connection with lumbering and -fisheries, is transported to its field of work FREE OF CHARGE and taken -back at specially cheap rates. - -Many of those who go out with _artels_ like the country and the -conditions so much that they prefer to stay and take up plots of land -and settle. - - -WHERE AND HOW IS IT POSSIBLE TO SETTLE? - -In the provinces open for colonisation there are a great number -of specially chosen plots of Government land at the disposal of -individuals or of numbers electing to farm and work together. The -names of peasants electing to see these or choose one of them are -gratuitously enrolled by the emigration officials. In the more settled -and inhabited places of Siberia, Turkestan and Seven Rivers Land, where -land has now obtained a considerable value, there are also special -plots marked out by the Government, and these may be bought. Also in -many peasant settlements and Cossack stations there are wide stretches -of land granted by the Government to the Cossacks or sold in time past -to freed serfs, and on these it is possible to settle when arrangements -can be made privately with the peasants or the Cossacks, as the case -may be. Finally, it is also possible to lease land or to buy it from -private individuals. - - -TO WHOM DOES THE GOVERNMENT GIVE HELP? - -Although emigration is permitted to all who wish, yet, in order to -enjoy the advantages of Governmental help and grants in aid, it is -necessary that families should first send out messengers, and should -await their return before setting out themselves. This is only enforced -by the Government in order to save the people from the ruin which often -follows unconsidered and frivolous emigration. It should be remembered -that all who have not obtained land in advance through their messengers -(_khodoki_) will find that they have to take their turn last in the -selection of plots of land. - - -THE SENDING OF MESSENGERS (KHODOKI) - -Any peasant or town family occupying itself with agriculture can now -send out a _khodok_, and it is now allowed to send one _khodok_ to -represent several families, but not more than five. What is more, any -working man, artisan or tradesman can obtain a _khodok’s_ certificate -without difficulty, and can make the journey to the places of -colonisation and become acquainted with the local conditions. - -The faithful _khodok_ should make a thorough study of conditions of -life in the new places, consider carefully all the plots of land -offered, and, choosing the most suitable, inscribe his name for it -according to the regulations. The _khodok_ must not set off without -his certificate, for only by showing the certificate can he travel at -reduced rates or be recognised by the officials in Turkestan or Siberia. - -In Seven Rivers Land and the other provinces of Turkestan no -permission is given to people of other than the Russian race or the -Orthodox religion. In the case of Old Believers and other sects whose -teaching forbids military service, no permission can be granted to -settle--therefore, no Molokans, Baptists or Seventh Day Adventists are -allowed to settle anywhere in Turkestan. - -The certificates, both for _khodoki_ and emigrating families, are -given gratuitously. The _khodok_ certificate for 1913 is printed on -yellow paper, the colonists’ on rose-coloured paper, and the tariff -certificate on green.[D] - -The most convenient time for looking over the plots of land is from -April till June, but the best are taken up very quickly at the -beginning of spring; many people of foresight get to the various points -in the winter in order to form an idea of the winter life of the -district and to be on the spot when the new plots are laid open in the -early spring. - -In order to make it easier for the messengers and to decrease the -expense, _khodoki_ are advised to go in groups and not alone. A party -together always fares better than separate people can, and more trouble -is necessarily taken for them. - -_Khodoki_ often take very little money with them, and, through poverty, -are obliged to return without having found the land they want. It is -not possible to find suitable land at once; it is necessary to go to -various places and look at many farms. For that, time and money are -both necessary. - -It is not thought wise to answer advertisements or apply at offices -where the promise of arranging everything is made. It is impossible to -take up land except through application to the emigration officials, -and they do their work without making any charge. Everyone who promises -to obtain an option on a plot of Government land after the payment -of a fee is practising deceit, and complaint should be lodged at -the Emigration Department in St. Petersburg. (Postal address: St. -Petersburg Emigration Department, Morskaya 42. Telegraphic address: St. -Petersburg, Emigrant.) - -_Khodoki_ should remember that many of the free plots of land indicated -in the booklet may have been allotted to other people before their -arrival. So it is, generally speaking, wise to take a wide view of the -possible places of settlement. _Khodoki_ should obtain the full list of -plots offered by the Government. This list can be obtained at Seezran -station, at Orenburg, Iletsk, Ak-bulak, Jurun, Arees, Tashkent. - -The following reductions are made in railway and steamer fares for -messengers and colonists and their families, and also in the charges -for baggage: - -1. People holding certificates as colonists or messengers of colonists -are taken on all railways at a reduced fare--at a fourth of the cost -of a third-class ticket--and they are accommodated in the grey wagons -of the fourth class, or, in the absence of these, in goods trains. -Children up to ten years of age are carried free. - -2. Baggage is taken on the same train as that by which the colonists -travel, and is charged at the rate of one hundredth part of a farthing -per pood per verst, the first pood per ticket going free. Horses and -horned cattle are taken at half a farthing per head per verst, and -small domestic animals at a quarter of a farthing per head per verst. -Fowls and small animals in cages or baskets are charged by weight as -if they were ordinary baggage. - -3. Baggage is divided into three categories. - -_First category._--Domestic goods and furniture in packing cases; more -than eight poods per person of either sex cannot be taken at this rate. - -_Second category._--Animals, carts, agricultural machinery, guns, -provisions, can only be taken to the number and extent shown on the -back of the tariff certificate. - -_Third category._--Grain, flour, seed, trees and vines can only be -taken up to ten poods per person. - -Beyond these limits baggage must be taken at the general commercial -tariff. - -In the case of loss the railway undertakes to pay the owner forty -roubles a pood for baggage in the first category (though not more -than 120 roubles for each ticket), six roubles a pood for the second -category, and a rouble and a half a pood for the third category. - - -TABLE OF DISTANCES - - _Approximate - equivalent - _Versts._ in miles._ - From St. Petersburg to-- - Omsk 2,937 1,958 - Semipalatinsk 3,666 2,444 - Tashkent 3,727 2,484 - Vladivostock 8,268 5,512 - - From Moscow to-- - Omsk 2,681 1,794 - Semipalatinsk 3,410 2,340 - Tashkent 3,123 2,082 - Vladivostock 8,012 5,340 - - From Odessa to-- - Omsk 3,784 2,522 - Semipalatinsk 4,518 3,008 - Tashkent 4,536 3,024 - Vladivostock 9,115 6,076 - - -TABLE OF RAILWAY FARES FOR EMIGRANTS - - _No. of _Equivalent _Cost of ticket _Equivalent - versts._ in miles._ in roubles._[E] in shillings._ - _rbls._ _copks._ _s._ _d._ - 750 500 1 80 2 8 - 1,500 1,000 2 80 4 2 - 2,250 1,500 3 65 5 5 - 3,000 2,000 4 45 6 7 - 3,750 2,500 5 55 8 3 - 4,500 3,000 6 65 9 11 - 5,250 3,500 7 65 11 5 - 6,000 4,000 8 75 13 0 - 7,500 5,000 10 95 16 4 - 9,000 6,000 13 05 19 7 - - -BAGGAGE TARIFF FOR EMIGRANTS - - To carry 3 poods (i.e. 1 cwt.)-- - 1,000 versts 30 copecks (i.e. about 6d.). - 5,000 ” 1 rouble 50 copecks (2s. 3d.). - 9,000 ” 2 roubles 70 ” (4s.). - - To carry 30 poods (i.e. 1/2 ton)-- - 1,000 versts 3 roubles (4s. 6d.). - 5,000 ” 15 ” (22s. 6d.). - 9,000 ” 27 ” (40s. 6d.). - -And other amounts and distances proportionately. - - -CHARGES ON THE RIVERS - - _Fare in - roubles._ _Baggage - _rbls._ _copks._ per pood._ - From Omsk to-- - Pavlodar 3 20 20 copecks - Semipalatinsk 4 80 25 ” - - From Krasnoyarsk to-- - Batenei 2 50 16 ” - Minusinsk 2 80 18 ” - -At the larger stations and piers colonists’ shelters have been built; -free medical aid is given, and hot food is served out cheap (for -instance, a plate of lenten or of ordinary soup, four copecks--one -penny). - -To children up to ten years of age and to sick persons, hot food is -given free. To small children (up to three years), white bread and milk -is given free. - -People who become ill of infectious diseases are removed to the -Government hospitals and treated free. - -At the great emigration stations beware of swindlers and charlatans, of -whom there are not a few. It goes without saying that even the poorest -emigrants have a little money, and they stand to lose even that if they -are not careful. Beware of loiterers, card games with unknown persons, -pick-pockets, robbers. Hide your money in a place where it cannot be -stolen. Do not accept drinks of vodka or beer from unknown people. It -is a common trick to scatter thorn-apple seed in vodka; the colonist -loses consciousness, and is robbed. Many people have suffered in this -way through lack of caution. - -If on the road you purchase cattle or horses, obtain a certificate of -purchase, or else the persons from whom you have bought may come back -and declare that you have stolen what you bought. - - -SEVEN RIVERS PROVINCE (_Semiretchenskaya Oblast_) - -One of the most remote Central Asian possessions of Russia, remarkable -for its natural wealth and the beauty of Nature. - -The route thither is either by rail to Tashkent or by rail to Omsk, and -up the River Irtish to Semipalatinsk, and then 500 to 1,000 versts or -more by road. - -It is bounded on the south and east by China, on the north by the -province of Semipalatinsk, on the west by the provinces of Sirdaria and -Ferghan. - -The principal inhabitants are wandering Kirghiz, of whom there are -about one million. The Russians number about 200,000, and there are -about 200,000 of other races. Half the Russian population is Cossack. - -The province is divided into the jurisdictions of Verney, Pishpek, -Przhevalsk, Jarkent, Kopal and Lepsinsk. - -The northern districts of Lepsinsk and Kopal are specially suitable -for agricultural settlement, and there is much land there not needing -irrigation, as there is comparatively much water. - -In the districts of Verney, Jarkent and Pishpek irrigation is -generally necessary. Free plots of land are mostly in the district of -Jarkent and on the frontier of China. When the railway has been brought -across to Verney, trade will certainly develop, so the sale of products -will be facilitated and the conditions of farming very profitable. - -Then the southern parts of the province are very mountainous. Fruitful -valleys are separated by great ranges, but with time a road system will -be developed and this difficulty overcome. - -A railway will soon be built from Tashkent to Verney. - -There are as yet no steamers. The largest river, the Ili, crosses the -centre of the province. Besides the Ili there are many mountain streams -and also large lakes; among the latter may be named Balkhash, Alakul, -Issik-Kul. - -The climate is very varied, there being levels of eternal snow and of -burning sand. The chief occupations of the colonists are cattle farming -and all branches of agriculture. A well-watered farm gives, as a rule, -a rich and abundant harvest. - -Wheat is sown (from 7 to 10 poods the dessiatina), rye oats (8 to 14 -poods), millet, peas, potatoes, maize, sunflowers, mustard, flax, hemp, -poppy, buckwheat, etc. And the harvest gives wheat up to 150 poods the -dessiatina, oats give from 70 to 120 poods the dessiatina, and barley -90 poods. In the districts of Pishpek, Jarkent and Verney rice is -sown, and gives 100 roubles the dessiatina clear profit. Orchards are -cultivated almost everywhere with success. - -PRICES - - Wheat 30 to 80 copecks the pood. - Rye 30 to 60 ” ” - Oats 30 to 60 ” ” - Barley 30 to 70 ” ” - A horse costs 45 roubles - A cow costs 25 to 30 roubles - A camel costs 50 roubles - A sheep costs 3 to 5 roubles - Labour costs from 70 copecks to 1 rouble - 50 copecks the day. - - -GOVERNMENT GRANTS - -(_a_) In the measure of 100 roubles the family is given in the -districts of Pishpek and Verney, except for certain special districts -where colonisation proceeds without loans. A hundred roubles are also -given to settlers in the district of Kopal, excepting the survey of -Altin-Emel and certain plots in the valley of the River Chu and also in -the neighbourhood of the Lake Issik-Kul. - -(_b_) In the measure of 200 roubles the family in the northern parts of -the district of Jarkent and in the survey of Altin-Emel in the district -of Kopal. - -In the southern and eastern frontier region half the loan is reckoned -as not returnable to the Government. - -In the artificially watered tracts in the districts of Verney and -Pishpek no grants are made. - -Beyond personal loans special grants are made for purposes of supplying -general needs, for the building of schools, churches, village barns, -mills, brick factories and irrigation works. For the poorer districts -the Government takes upon itself the burden of building schools and -churches, and hundreds of thousands of roubles are spent annually for -this purpose. The Government also sinks wells for the colonists. - -Personal loans are repayable by instalments after five years. The -first five years there is no need to repay anything, but during the -succeeding ten years after that the whole should be cleared off. - -General loans are repayable within ten years. - - -TAXES - -Settlers are free of all Governmental charges and taxes for the first -five years. During the second five years half has to be paid, and after -ten years settlers take their stand with the established colonists. - - -MILITARY SERVICE - -Settlers over 18 years at the time of settlement are allowed to -postpone their starting service for three years. - -In Turkestan six years’ grace is given to all over 15 years of age. - - -TIMBER - -When there is no timber, the Government provides free wood for building -purposes--from the nearest Crown forest. - -TURKESTAN - -Though, generally speaking, Turkestan is shut for the purposes of -immigration, nevertheless a great number of people go there every year, -there being a great demand for labour of all kinds. Cotton growers give -even as much as two roubles fifty copecks per day. Good wages are paid -on the irrigation works. Artisans are needed in the towns and villages. -Turkestan is rich, and can support any working man who goes there. It -is good to go there and make some money before taking up land, and also -to get some experience of the climate and conditions. As regards the -taking up of land when allowed, grants in the measure of 165 roubles -are given in the provinces of Sirdaria, Samarkand and Ferghan, and -in the measure of 250 roubles to settlers in the frontier regions of -Zaalaisk and Pamir, half of which is not returnable. - -[Illustration: THE SHADY VILLAGE STREET--ONE LONG LINE OF WILLOWS AND -POPLARS] - -It is impossible to give the whole of this “combined circular” in -extenso, but I think I have included or summarised all that is vital. -It indicates the scaffolding of empire building. The people at home -feel cramped or restless. They send out their KHODOKI, the pioneer -messengers. The messengers select a portion of new land and return to -Russia. The families of the emigrants follow. But first they must sell -off or abandon all manner of cumbersome property; and good-bye has to -be said to friends, to the old village, to church and churchyard, and -the dead. Most difficult of all for many Russians is the leaving -the dead behind. There is the whole agony of separation, the being cut -off from Russia and going forth as a new child into Siberia or Central -Asia. Then the long, monotonous train journey, and the road journey -at the end of it; the caravan on the Central Asian road, and it is in -the caravan that the colonists begin to taste of new life, and many -feel they would like to go on wandering so all their lives. But they -reach the place the messenger has found for them, and then commences -the great work of making a habitation of man where no habitation has -ever been before. Prayers and thanksgiving, and then work. There is no -possible living without work, and the rather easy-going ways of the old -land have to be given up and a new life begun of arduous labour and -unflagging energy. To their aid comes hope and the passion for making -all things new. No Russian would work so much were it not interesting; -it is real life, the wine of experience. - -First of all, trees are planted. How pathetic to see the long rows -of three-foot-high poplar shoots and willow twigs! A month on this -sun-beaten road leaves no doubt in the emigrant’s mind as to what is -the first necessity--shade, shade. Trees are planted all along the -main Government dyke. The colonist chooses the place for his house; -he digs a trench all round it and lets in water from the dyke, and he -plants trees along the trench. Then he buys stout poplar trunks and -willow trunks, and makes the framework of his cottage. He interlaces -little willow twigs, and makes the sort of wilted green, slightly -shady, slightly sunny house that children might put up in a wood in -England. But that is only the beginning. To the willow house he slaps -on mud puddings. This is the filthiest work. He makes a great quantity -of mud, and treads it up and down with his bare feet till he gets the -consistency he requires, and then, with his hand, fetches out sloppy -lumps of it and builds his walls. In a few days the mud hardens, and -he has a shady and substantial dwelling, and one that in an earthquake -will swing but will not collapse. His roof he makes of prairie grass, -great reeds ten feet to fifteen feet in length and thick and strong, or -of willow twigs again and turf. In his second year he has a little hay -harvest on his roof. He ploughs his little bit of desert. He exchanges -some of his oxen for cows. He strives with all his power--as does a -transplanted flower--to take root. He looks forlorn. You look at his -poor estate and say: “It is a poor experiment. The sun is too strong -for him; he will just wither off, and the desert will be as before.” -But you come another day and you see a change, and exclaim: “He has -taken root, after all; there is a shoot of young life there, tender and -green.” Along the road I noticed villages of all ages; of this year, of -last year, of four years gone, of twenty years, forty years. - -There are now several thousand Russian villages in Central Asia--year -by year scores of new names creep into the map in faint _italics_. It -is astonishing to English eyes, because we are accustomed to think -that maps of Asia do not change. We like to preserve the old Asiatic -names of places, and our map-makers seem to have prejudice in favour -of Teuton nomenclature similar to the prejudice for spelling the -names of Russian places with German pronunciation equivalents. Asia -becomes predominantly Russian, and not by virtue of troops stationed at -outlandish posts, but by virtue of this process of settling. - -The process of colonisation is, however, slower than the process of -colonising the British Empire. The population is said to increase at -a greater rate, but the organic development is slower. The facilities -for getting to Siberia and Central Asia are greater, but the prospect -held out is not so alluring, not so fascinating. There is more work to -be done by the immigrant here than in Canada or Australia or Africa. -There are no large fortunes to be made in a few years, no speculative -chances, no great whirling wheel of life set going. On the other hand, -Russian colonisation is sounder colonisation, more solid and lasting. -It has a better quality and it promises more for the future, unless we -British are going to wake up to the facts of our situation. - - - - -X - -FELLOW-TRAVELLERS - - -It is not necessary to say much about Verney, the capital of Seven -Rivers Land. It is so subject to earthquakes that it is difficult to -see in it a permanent capital. No houses of two storeys can with safety -be built, so it is more suited to remain a military centre and fortress -than to be a great city. In order to look imposing, shops and stores -have fixed up sham upper storeys; that is, they have window-fronts -up above, but no rooms behind the fronts. Singer and the cinema are -here, though an enormous number of Singer shops have been compulsorily -closed all over the Russian Empire during the war. Verney has its -bazaar, its inns and doubtful houses, its baths, dance halls, clubs, -restaurants. Although it is so far from a railway station and such an -enormous distance from the wicked West, it has its frivolity and sin -and small crime. It has no electric cars. It has no Bond Street or -West End. One may say, however, that it has its Covent Garden. Verney -is a great market for fruit and vegetables. Its native name means the -city of apples, and for apples it is famous. All travellers from China -are given Verney apples when they pass through. Carts heaped high with -giant red radishes are driven through the town, and the strawberry -hawkers make many cries. Many horses are adorned with fancy garments, -and I noticed donkeys with trousers on. Women ride about astride, and -are evidently used to horseback, tripping along leaning forward over -the horse as it springs to a gallop, sedately coming up the high street -at a walk, erect like little fat soldiers. Then, Kirghiz women astride -of bulls are to be seen, and I saw one carrying twin babies and yet on -bull-back, dexterously holding the cord from the ring in the animal’s -nose, and guiding it whither it should go. Verney has its newspaper. -It has some hope of culture, and in the High School two dozen students -matriculate each year and go off to the Universities of Kief, Moscow, -and so on. Verney folk are grumblers at home, but when they get to -Russia they develop great local patriotism and sigh for a bit of Verney -bread, even of the stale bread of Verney. At the Universities the -students of Seven Rivers Land keep together, and know themselves as a -body having certain views and opinions of their own. Then, after their -course, they come back to their home land and bring tidings of Russia. -I talked with some students, and found them not unlike our own colonial -students in their outlook and their attitude to the Empire. They help, -but, of course, a far away place like this needs a lot of helping in -the matter of culture. They bring back books and musical instruments. -When I went out at night, strolling through the moon-illuminated city, -I listened to the tinkling of pianos, and it was interesting to -reflect that each instrument, besides coming thousands of miles by -train, had also come five hundred miles in a wagon along these Central -Asian roads. - -There is a suggestion of America in the life out here. When you ask -the way you are directed by blocks, not by turnings, and you may be -sure the town is a planned one, with the streets running at right -angles to one another. Only Nature, with her earthquakes, has tumbled -it, given you chasms to jump over, and made it dangerous to walk in -the outskirts of the town at night. There is much advertisement of -wares and of persons, and a keenness to prosper and get rich. “Getting -rich flatters your self-esteem,” I read, and again, “Buy Indian tea -and get rich.” It is quite clear to me that buying Indian tea really -makes poorer, for it is altogether inferior to Russian tea; but, then, -these people have not our experience, they do not know the history of -tea-drinking in England; how once we also had good tea, but that, in -the national passion for cheapness and “getting rich,” we have come -to drink popularly that vile thick stuff we now call tea. Verney has -its rich bourgeois--rich for Verney--men with ten or twenty thousand -pounds capital. Among such is, or was (for perhaps he has been interned -or expelled), a German sausage-maker, who started his career in the -market-place with five pounds of sausages on a plate, and is now a -respected merchant with shops and branch shops and a fame for sausages -throughout Central Asia. - -[Illustration: THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. SOPHIA AT VERNEY--AFTER THE -EARTHQUAKE OF 1887] - -The local newspaper had made some sort of record of the cinema films -that were shown in the five towns of Seven Rivers and analysed them in -this way: - - Scientific 2 per cent. - Historical 3 ” - Industrial 3 ” - Nature 4 ” - Farce 20 ” - Lurid drama 60 ” - Polite drama 8 ” - -Which seemed to give a fair account of its civilising force. I visited -three or four cinemas at various remote places, and was astonished -at the French and Italian horrors, German and Scandinavian bourgeois -funniosities, ghastly white-slave tragedies, and many visualised penny -dreadfuls. When you see the crowds of Russians at these performances -you realise that the penny dreadful is by no means played out, that -many people did not in the old times read the penny dreadful just -because they did not know what lay between the covers of those badly -printed books, what enthralling rubbish. The business has changed hands -commercially, but the thing sold is the same. It is sold in a more -acceptable form--that is all. - -Astonishing to see the yellow men of Asia staring at the cinema: the -turbaned Sart; the new Chinaman, with cropped pigtail; the baby-like -Kirghiz. Whatever do they make of American business romances and -the Wild West and Red Rube and Max? They seem engrossed, smile -irrelevantly, stare, go out, but always come again. The cinema is a -queer window on to Europe and the West. - -The road from Verney to Iliisk, on the River Ili, seemed more deserted -than the road to Verney had been. Many parties of pioneers evidently -turn south at Verney, and not so many turn north-east towards Iliisk. -It is waste territory, overgrown with coarse grass and thistles. There -are occasional mountain rivulets, bridged on the roadway with straw -and mud bridges much higher than the level of the road, so that every -bridge is a sort of hump. Behind me and behind Verney immense steep -mountains lifted themselves up into the clouds. The road that I walked -was a slowly descending tableland. - -I passed through the little village of Karasbi, and then through the -more substantial settlements of Jarasai and Nikolaevski. These are -prolonged and attenuated villages. The oldest houses are the biggest -and the deepest in trees, they have plenty of out-houses and farm -buildings; but the newest are bare and wretched, with poplar shoots in -front of them but three feet high. There are some deserted hovels--even -a fine house was perhaps a hovel to begin with, a temporary mud hut -put up to give shelter whilst the first work was done on the fields. -I saw many houses half built, showing their framework of yet green -willow and poplar twigs. I saw whole families and villages at work on -new settlements, and also families living in tents. On the foundations -of the new dwellings or attached to the rude framework were little -crosses, only to be taken down when there would be a place in the -house for the ikons brought from their old homes in Russia. Some -colonists, on being asked when they had arrived, replied, “Last week,” -others said, “During these days”; the dust on their wagons was new. -Everyone had a sort of Swiss Family Robinson air, as of exploring an -island, making natural discoveries, and bringing things from a wreck. -Some groups, however, were already busy sowing their new fields, and I -understood that that was the first thing to do; that was the work, and -the building the new cottages was the play. They had nothing to fear -from sleeping in the open every night of summer and early autumn--a -lesson to these Russians, who in their home cottages or in railway -carriages are afraid of fresh air as if it brought pestilence. - -I spent two wonderful nights under the stars on the road to Iliisk, the -first in a sort of natural cradle in a copse, the second in a hollow -which I made for my body in the bare sand of the desert. I passed out -of the new land on to the waste of the Ili valley; the road was visible -twenty or thirty miles ahead, and on it in front of me are telegraph -poles unlimited, at first with spaces between, but in the distance -thick, like black matches stuck close together in the sand. I walked a -long way in the evenings, and I remember, as the sun set, an enormous -and foolish bustard that was under the impression I was chasing it. -It would fly the space of five telegraph poles, I’d walk the space of -three; then it would fly three, I’d catch up; and it would fly on ahead -along the track as if it dared not desert the poles. Finally, however, -just at the last rays of sunset, it flew crossways over the desert and -disappeared. - -I was rather nervous at this time about the _karakurt_, the black -spider that sheep eat with pleasure, but whose bite is mortal to men; -and each night when I made my fresh-air couch I took pains to keep out -of the way of flies, beetles, spiders, and snakes. I never was troubled -by the _karakurt_, but I had a lively time with beetles and running -flies, to say nothing of snakes, whose sudden darts and writhings gave -me momentary horrors many times. The valley of the Ili is a wild place, -with tigers and panthers; a splendid district for study and sport, I -should say. However, no beasts came and snuffed my face in the night. - -Each night on the road I learned to expect the moon later and later. It -always seems unpunctual, always late, but not worried, and having that -irreproachable beauty that excuses all faults. She came up late over -the Ili desert in a wonderful orange light, and then, emerging into -perfect brilliance, paled the myriad stars, set them back in the sky, - - Divesting herself of her golden shift and so - Emerging white and exquisite. - -I lay looking eastward on the sand, and on my right, in the vague night -shadow, lay the tremendous pyramids of the Ala Tau mountains, the great -cliff triangles south of Verney, first vision of the mighty Thian Shan. -The clouds had lifted off them during the night, and in the morning -I saw them in their true perspective, vague, smoke-like, shadow-based -and grey-white, sun-bathed, many-pointed rocky and precipitous summits -stretching a hundred miles and more from east to west. - -It was ten miles in to breakfast at Iliisk. The water in the little -lakes being salt, and my water-bottles empty, I could not make tea. The -lakes and ponds remind you that you are between Issik-Kul and Balkhash. -It is, however, desert country till you come to the thickets of the -river, and there the cuckoo is calling, there are bees in the air, and -it is glorious, fresh, abundant summer. The bases of the mountains are -all deep blue as the sky, but utterly soft and delicious to the gaze, -and the colour faints into the whiteness of the hundred-mile-long line -of snow. - -Iliisk is marked large on the map for convenience sake. One must mark -it large to indicate a town on the River Ili, but though there is -a prospect of its becoming an important trade centre, it is as yet -insignificant, no more than a village, a church, a post-station, a -market-place, and the dwelling-houses of two thousand people. I noticed -new colonists here, using their horses to tramp great slops of mud -to the proper consistency of mud dough for making the walls of new -cottages. So Iliisk is increasing in size, its population is growing. -Most of the houses here were mud huts of the swinging kind, built to -withstand earthquakes, and their roofs were very light and beautiful, -being of jungle reeds of a golden colour, each stem twelve feet long -and ending in a broom of soft plumage. The River Ili, from which these -reeds are cut, is a grateful sheet of silver, the breadth of the Thames -at Westminster, has pink cliffs, is spanned by a wooden bridge, and has -little tree-grown islets. Among the reeds on the banks lurk the tiger -and panther and many snakes. Little steamers go to and fro out of China -and into China, doing trade in wool, but held up every now and then -by the Chinese for extra bribes. In the village wagons and camels are -being loaded with raw wool--indicating the future significance of the -little town as a trade centre. The population is predominantly Russian, -though there are Tartars, Kirghiz, and Chinese Mohammedans. Near the -market-place is a Tartar mosque with a green crescent on the top of it. - -My road lay eastward toward Kopal, but before taking it I had my -breakfast at Iliisk--sour milk and stale bread--at a cottage, with -Christ’s blessing, and how good! - -The morning was very hot when I set out again, and I took off my jacket -and put it in my knapsack, carrying the enlarged and weighty bundle on -thinly covered shoulders. The land was sandy and desolate, being too -high above the level of the River Ili to allow of simple irrigation. -If it is to be opened up for colonisation, the river must be tapped -much higher up, in Chinese territory, but this the Chinese will not -as yet allow. I met no colonists on my road out from Iliisk, not even -any Kirghiz. Summer had scorched away whatever grass the desert had -yielded, and the nomads had retired for the season and gone to fresher -pastures higher in the hills. How frugally it is necessary to lunch in -these parts may be guessed. It is no place to tramp for anyone who must -have dainties and must have change. On the whole I do not recommend -Central Asia for long walking tours. For one thing, there is very -little opportunity of getting anything washed, including oneself; no -early morning dip, no freshness. It is not as in the Caucasus: - - The wild joy of living, the leaping from rock up to rock, - The strong rending of boughs from the fir tree, the cool, silver shock - Of the plunge in the pool’s living water. - -At night I was fain to discard my sleeping-sack, those two sheets sewn -together on three sides; but the beetles and spiders and mosquitoes -made that impossible. On the other hand, the whiteness of the sack, -when the moon shone full on me, always made it possible that some -long-sighted Kirghiz might bring his tribe along to find out what I was. - -After a night in the desert above Iliisk I came to a place which was -not a place and was called Chingildinsky, perhaps because of the -sound of the bells on horses galloping through, for scarce anyone -ever stops there, but I suppose really after Chingiz Khan. However, -at the Zemsky post-station, to which I had repaired to have tea, -I made an interesting acquaintance, a M. Liamin, a Government -engineer, architect, and inspector of bridges. He was travelling on -a long round through Seven Rivers and Western China via Chugachak--a -military-looking gentleman in the uniform of a colonel, but much more -sociable than a Russian officer is permitted to be. He was riding in -his own _tarantass_, with his own petted horses, Vaska and Margarita. -He asked me if I would care to accompany him, and we travelled a whole -day together, all day and all night. Whenever we came in sight of any -game the Kirghiz coachman took his master’s gun and had a shot at -it. In this way we brought down two pheasants and a woodcock, to the -delight of the Kirghiz and the not unmingled pleasure of his master, -who could not bear to think of animals in pain. Liamin was inspecting -Government buildings, chiefly bridges, and of these chiefly bridges -long since washed away. He had to report annually to the governor of -Semi-retchie. - -“There are two hundred bridges needing repair or rebuilding. I make -my report, and the governor sets aside two hundred roubles. A rouble -apiece,” he explained, smiling. “But what is a rouble!” - -We passed through remarkably empty country, but it was on this second -day out of Iliisk that I met for the first time the colonists coming -southwards from Siberia. More than half my journey was done; I was -nearer Omsk than Tashkent. - -In Liamin’s _tarantass_ were all manner of boxes and padlocked safes, -map rolls, instruments, pillows, quilts, weapons. There was a soft -depth where one sat and lolled on one’s back whilst one’s knees -in front were preposterously high. It was a jolly way to travel, -and we were both sick of solitude and glad to hear the sound of our -own voices. Liamin was charming. We talked on all manner of themes. -His favourite authors were Jack London, Kipling, and Dickens. Wells -depressed his soul, because he was so pessimistic. It seemed to him -very terrible that it was necessary to kill so many people before Man -would make up his mind to live aright. The World Republic was not -worth the price paid. He had read “The World Set Free” in a Russian -translation, and he could not bring himself to believe that there would -ever be such slaughter as a world-war meant. Mankind was not so stupid. - -Though he was a high-placed official, Liamin was all against the -colonisation of Central Asia, which he called a fashionable idea, and -full of sympathy for the wandering Kirghiz, who were being excluded -from all the good pasture lands and harried across the frontier into -China. At one village where we stopped we met a land surveyor and an -old, grizzled, retired colonel who both held the opposite view, and -they belaboured Liamin as we sat round the samovar. - -“The Kirghiz are animals, nothing more. The Russians are men. The -Kirghiz are going to China. God be with them! Let them go! Are they not -pagans? We should be well rid of them! Just think of their cruelty; -they put a ring through a bull’s nose and tie him by that to a horse, -and by his tail to a camel! If they want to stay with us, let them -remain in one spot, become civilised, and obtain proper passports; -then their land will be secured to them. But if they _must_ wander -about like wild animals, here to-day and the other side of the mountain -to-morrow, then they must pay for their liberty and wildness.” - -A grievous question, this, in Russian Central Asia. Liamin could not -make his way in his argument against the colonel. The future of the -Kirghiz tribes is problematical, but I should say that they were -certain to go over the frontier into China in ever greater numbers as -Central Asia becomes civilised by the Russians. What they will do when -Mongolia and China become civilised I do not know. But that is looking -a long way ahead. - -[Illustration: VISITORS AT A KIRGHIZ WEDDING] - -At a place called Karachok we saw somewhat of the festivity of a -Kirghiz wedding. There was a great crowd of men--the guests from -the country round about--and they all stood around the tent of the -bridegroom, while the womenfolk, apparently all collected together, sat -within and improvised songs. The felt was removed from the side of the -tent and the cane framework was exposed, so the girls and women within, -all in white and with white turbans on their heads, looked as if they -were in a cage. Kirghiz women are not veiled. They were all sitting on -the floor--that is, on carpets on the ground of the tent. They sang as -the Northern Russians sing in the provinces of Vologda and Perm and -Archangel, in wild bursts and inharmonious keening. The men joined -occasionally in the songs, and occasionally burst into laughter, for -the words were full of funny things invented by the girls. That seemed -to be the sum of the entertainment. A sheep had been roasted whole. A -race had been run for the prize of a dead goat--the national _baiga_ -race. About midnight the singing ended, and the guests prepared to take -their wives away and go home; the camels and bulls and horses were led -forth, also the wives. And then broke out a quarrel. One of the guests -had stolen a silver button off the coat of another man’s wife, had -cut it off with the scissors as a keepsake, and she had countenanced -the theft. The wife, being the personal property of the husband, had, -of course, no power to give the button on her own account. There was -likely to be an outrageous fight with cudgels, but Liamin appeared in -the midst of the dispute and calmed it all away in the name of law and -order. The guests mounted and rode away, out into the darkness, by -various tracks, on horses, camels, bulls, their wives with them. It was -astonishing to see the effect of the appearance of an officer among -the angry crowd. They forgot their differences at one look and the -recognition of a uniform. Even the dogs ceased barking when they saw -the sword of my friend and they smelt his khaki trousers. - -Our horses had been taken out of the shafts and given three hours’ rest -and plenty of oats to eat. We walked out over the wild and empty moor -together and chatted, came back and had tea, and then got into the -_tarantass_ once more. It was the depth of night before we moved on, -and although we had clambered in before the horses were brought back, -our object being to go to sleep before we started, we went on comparing -impressions. I told him my life, he told me his, told me about his -wife and children and his home at Przhevalsk, of his horses and his -experiments in breeding, of the horse races at Verney, of the joy of -the Kirghiz in racing, the one Russian pursuit and interest in which -they fully share, the common ground of the two peoples in the colony. -Liamin spent a great deal of the year in China and on the frontier, and -had evidently much experience of the Chinese. He considered there would -be a quarrel with China sooner or later through the progress of Russia -in Central Asia. But the Chinese would be beaten. He did not fear their -millions. They were not equipped as the Japanese were. - -“What do you think of the Yellow Peril; is it getting nearer?” I asked. - -“There is no danger of it whatever,” said he. “Europe is far too -warlike to be in any danger from the Chinese.” - -“Do you think Europe is more or less warlike than it was; do you think -it is getting less warlike?” I asked. This was, of course, before the -Great War. - -“Yes, it’s getting less warlike, I suppose,” said Liamin. “But it -will be a long while before we are too effeminate to withstand the -Mongols. But woe for us if there should ever come such a time! They -are a devilish people. At first glance they seem artless and childlike, -but you can never be sure what they are up to; they are secret and -mysterious. It is an axiom with me that all Asiatics lie; but the -Chinese particularly. You remember when San Francisco was destroyed by -earthquake the Americans discovered a hitherto unknown and underground -city run by the Chinese, and in it many white people who had long -since disappeared nobody knew whither, people who had been advertised -for and sought for by relatives and police and what not. Wherever the -Chinese form colonies they turn to devilry of one kind or another. I -remember the ghastly things the Chinese did in the Boxer insurrection, -the originality of the tortures they invented. Fancy this as a torture! -A Russian whom I knew fell into their hands, and their way of killing -him was to fasten a corpse of a man to him, and day and night he lived -with this corpse till the worms ate into him and he died of madness! -The Russian villagers don’t mind doing business with the Chinamen, -but always remember they are pagans, and many think they have direct -dealings with devils. I was at Blagoveshtchensk when the Chinese opened -fire on us, and our Siberian colonists drove all the Chinese out of the -city, thirty thousand of them, and they were drowned in the river like -rats.” - -By this time the horses had been put in, Karachok left, and we were -jogging gently through the night. The Kirghiz who drove slept; the -horses also almost slept as they walked. Liamin at last, tired or made -drowsy by the movement, nodded as he talked, and fell asleep in the -middle of a sentence. The road climbed over high mountains, the moon -bathed the track and the wild and empty landscape with light. How far -on either hand stretched the uninhabited world! It was like posting -across a new and habitable planet where men might have been expected -to be living, but where all had died, or none but ourselves had ever -come. The world itself poked up, its great back was shyly lifted as if -it were some gigantic, timid animal that had never been disturbed. It -was a wonderful night; quiet, gentle, and unusual. Liamin, at my side, -slept silently and intensely. The Kirghiz looked as if cut out of wood. -I lay back and looked out, my fingers locked behind my head. So the -small hours passed. Night seemed to move over us and be left behind, -and I saw ahead the creeping dawn, the morrow, the real morrow, golden -and lucent on the eastern horizon. The sun rose and flooded into our -sleepy and sleeping eyes as we clattered over the brow of a hill. We -came to the Tartar hamlet of Kuan-Kuza, and it was morning. - - - - -XI - -ON THE CHINESE FRONTIER - - -At Kuan-Kuza I parted company with Liamin. I went off for a walk on -the hills; he went on with Vaska and Margarita. I had now reached -mountainous country and a region of fresh air. There were green valleys -and wild flowers, streams beside which I could make a pleasant repast, -and I had a most enjoyable walk to Kopal. There were patches of snow -on the heights, and I clambered up and fingered it just for the joy of -realising the contrast to the heat of the deserts I had come through. -The road went high over a green tableland to Altin-Emel, where I came -to cross-roads for China. An enormous caravan of camels blocked all -the ways here; two or three hundred ranks of camels, roped three in a -rank, roped crossways and lengthways, bearing huge panniers of wool, -but no passengers. Chinamen and little Chinese boys were in charge -of them, and ran among the camels’ legs cursing and calling as the -strings of bewildered or purposely contrary animals threatened to get -into knots and inextricable tangles. Sarts were doing a good business -here, selling hot lunch from wooden cauldrons with three compartments, -in which were meat-pies, soups, potatoes, respectively, all cooking -at the same time over charcoal. Altin-Emel is an interesting point on -the road. Here may be seen upon occasion British sportsmen with Hindu -servants, and two or three britchkas full of trophies and large antlers -done up in linen and cotton-wool and fixed with rope. Before the war -four or five British officers passed through Altin-Emel every year on -their way to Chinese Tartary or India, or from those places, coming -home. Some were out here at the time the war broke out, and were a long -time in finding out exactly what had happened in Europe. - -It is very beautiful country, with snow peaks in view in the distance -and at your feet white iris, forget-me-not, and brilliant Scotch roses, -those yellow blossoms thick on thorny stems. Then there are fields of -mullein as thick as stalks of corn after the peasants’ sickles have cut -the harvest. There are good-looking and frequent Russian villages and -Cossack stations, Kugalinskaya, Polovinka, Kruglenkoe. I passed through -a village started only in 1911, very clean, well kept, and promising. -Kugalinskaya Stanitsa was an old settlement, the land probably given to -the Cossacks when the conquest took place. This place was very drunken -the time I stayed there, though now, since the war and prohibition, -that characteristic must have vanished. The Cossacks apparently found -life rather boring; they had a marionette show in the bazaar, lotto -banks and roulette tables, where copecks were risked and bottles of -vodka staked. The public-house was full of singing drunkards. I can -imagine how cheered up the people were when war was declared. - -After a wonderful night on a little green tableland covered with -mulleins, where when I spread my bed I must crush mulleins, I went -on to Tsaritsinskaya. There, on the pass over the mountains and the -Kok-sa River, I got my first soaking on this vagabondage, soaked to -the skin by mist and drizzle; but I did not seem much the worse for -it, and dried naturally in the sun on the morrow, visibly steaming. -It was quite like a Caucasus road now, steep, wild, magnificent with -gorges and passes, foaming rivulets, villages threaded with the life -of running water, the paradise of ducks and their broods. The outward -roads were marked by heaps of mud and stones, and on these I went to -Jangiz-Agatch, with its fine trees, and Karabulak and Gavrilovka; -finally, a day over great sweeps of country illumined by gorse in bloom -and yellow roses, over leagues of wolf-hunted moorland to Kopal. - -Kopal is 825 miles from a railway station, and one of the last places -on earth; a town without an inn, without a barber; a place you could -run round in a quarter of an hour, and yet having jurisdiction over -an immense tract of territory along the Russian frontier of China. It -was late in the evening when I arrived there, and when I went to the -post-house I found it crowded with Chinamen; Chinamen on the two beds, -on the floor, in the passage; chop-sticks on the table. They were all -travellers on the road to Pekin, making their way slowly northward to -the Trans-Siberian Railway. - -At once one of those who occupied a bed got up, apologised, and vacated -his sleeping-place, offering it to me. Despite my refusal, he took -off his blanket and quilt and spread them on the floor instead. His -humility was touching--especially in contrast to my own instinctive -loathing of a bed on which Chinese had lain. Fortunately, I did not -feel tired. - -I do not carry a watch on my travels, so the idea of what time it is -gradually fades from the mind. The hour is not a matter of anxiety; -dawn, noon, sunset, night are the quarters of the clock, and they -suffice. But in the post-station at Kopal, whilst the Chinese were -officiously effacing themselves, I found myself idly looking at the big -clock hanging in a shadowy corner and trying to make out the hour. The -face of the clock was a tiger looking at a snake. When it was twelve -o’clock the hands were between the tiger’s eyes. At a quarter-past -seven the hands held the serpent. The clock was very dusty, but imagine -the start I got when suddenly I saw that the eyes in the tiger face -were rolling at me. As I stared the pupils slowly moved across the -whites of the eyes. The pendulum made the eyes roll. - -It was only nine o’clock, and I had noticed as I came into the town a -considerable flare of lights, a large white tent, and a notice of a -Chinese circus. A Chinese circus was something not to be missed in this -empty and outlandish country, so I put down my pack in the post-house -and went out to see the performance. It was something truly original, a -piquant diversion after a long day’s journeying in the wastes and wilds -of the mountains of Alai Tau. - -It was a circular tent, small enough for a circus tent, having only -three rows of seats around the arena. The price to sit down was thirty -copecks, to stand behind, fifteen copecks. Soldiers came in free, and -there were some thirty of them, with their dull peasant faces and dusty -khaki uniforms. Near the entrance there was a box covered with red -bunting, free for the chief of police and his friends. The chief of -police has a free box at nearly every local entertainment in Russia--he -can permit or forbid the show. There were three musicians--Russian -peasants, paid a shilling a night, I understand--and they gave value -for money unceasingly on a concertina, a violin, and a balalaika. The -public on the bare, rickety forms ringed round the as yet empty stage -numbered from 100 to 120, and were a mixture of Russians, Tartars, and -Kirghiz. All the Russian officers and officials of the town seemed -to be there, and were accompanied by their smartly dressed wives and -daughters. The Tartar merchants looked grim in their black skull-caps, -their women queenly, with little crowns on the tops of their heads and -long veils falling over their hair and their backs. There was a row -of these crowned Tartar women together; a row also of Kirghiz women, -in high, white turbans wrapped about their broad brows. There were -colonists and their _babas_--open-faced, simple-souled peasant women -who came to be petrified by the seeming devilry of the heathen Chinee. -To them the fact that the Chinese are heathen--not Christian--is -no joke, but a fierce reality. They look upon the Chinese as being -comparatively near akin to devils. - -Naphtha lamps swung uneasily from the high beams of the tent, and flung -unequal volumes of light from dangerous-looking ragged flames. The -sandy arena and all the eager people round were brightly shown in the -plenitude of light. - -The first item on the programme was not particularly striking. A bell -was rung, and a little Chinaman in black came out and twirled and -juggled a tea-tray on a chopstick. Then followed a Russian clown with -painted face, old hat, and yellow wig, who proceeded to be very serious -and show the public various tricks. He had three Chinese servants, -and the fun consisted in their stealing his things and spoiling his -efforts. Finally, he took a big stick and chased them round and round -the arena--to the great delight of all the children present. - -[Illustration: CHINESE PRAYING-HOUSE AT DJARKENT] - -The clown’s turn ended, there came forward a very handsome Chinee in -black satin knee-breeches, tight stockings, scarlet jersey, and English -collar and tie. He was rather tall, had a big, womanish face, gleaming -teeth, and long, black hair. He walked jauntily in little slippers, and -carried a handful of ten knives. Another Chinaman came out with an old -tree trunk, which he held up on end. A child came and stood up against -the trunk. The handsome Chinee then stood and flung the knives as if -to pin the boy to the wood, and he planted them between the child’s arm -and his body, over his arm, between his legs and beside his legs, on -each side of his neck, on each side of his ears, and over his head--and -all the time as he flung them he smiled. He repeated his feat, placing -all the knives round about the boy’s head, never raising the skin. - -Number four was the owner of the troupe, an old fellow in a light -blue, voluminous smock and long pigtail. He conjured a platter of -biscuits and cakes, glasses, a teapot, a steaming samovar, all out of -nothingness, inviting the public to come and have tea with him, and -talking an amusing broken Russian: - -“You laugh, you think this fine trick, but I show you ’nother mighty -juggle; took me ten years to learn this juggle ...” and so on. - -As the applause dies down the bell rings again, and out comes the -“Chinaman with the cast-iron head.” All the time “the orchestra” plays -Russian dances, plays them very noisily. He with the iron head lies -down on the sand and puts two bricks on his temple. At a distance of -ten yards another Chinaman holds a brick and prepares to aim it at the -head of his prostrate fellow-player. He aims it, but the iron-headed -one pretends to lose his nerve and jumps up with a terrible scream, -pointing to the music. The music must be calmed down. The audience -holds its breath as the trick is repeated to gentle lullaby airs. This -time the prostrate man receives the bricks one by one as they are -aimed--square on the bricks lying on his temple--and, of course, is -none the worse, though he takes the risk of a bad shot. - -The old conjurer came out again and danced to the Russian Kamarinsky -air, holding a bamboo as if it were his partner, and doing all manner -of clever and amusing turns. The young man who juggled the tea-tray on -the chopstick reappeared, and did a difficult balancing trick, raising -himself on a trestle which rested on little spheres on a table. Then -came two most original items, the dancing of an old man in a five-yard -linen whip, and the rolling round the body of a rusty eight-foot iron -sceptre. - -The man who danced made the long whip of linen crack and roll out over -the arena in splendid circles and waves, and he was ever in the midst -of it. The juggler of the sceptre contrived to roll the strange-looking -implement all over his body, about his back and his shoulders and his -stomach, and never let it touch the ground and never touched it with -his hand--and at the same time to dance to the music. This was a most -attractive feat, and was as pleasant to watch as anything I had ever -seen in a large city. - -[Illustration: LEPERS IN A FRONTIER TOWN] - -There was an interval and a great buzz of talking and surmise. After -the interval came wrestling matches and trick-riding on bicycles. -A clever little Mongol had no difficulty in disposing of those who -offered to wrestle with him, and a Russian cyclist who rode on his -handle-bars received great applause from the people of Kopal, most -of whom had not seen a bicycle before. - -So the entertainment ended, and everyone was well pleased. The juggling -was a great mystification to the simple Russians, and I heard many -amusing comments from those behind me and beside. The conjuring forth -of the steaming samovar was especially troubling to the minds of the -peasant women, and I heard one say to another: - -“God knows where he got it from.” - -And the other replied seriously: - -“What has God got to do with it? It’s the power o’ Satan.” - - * * * * * - -I returned to my post-house in a pleasant frame of mind; it was one by -the clock with the tiger face, and I took out my sheets and blanket and -slept in a wagon in the yard. All the Chinese were snoring. - -I said Kopal had no barber, but next day I found a Sart who shaved. -I entered a dwelling in the bazaar, half home, half cave. Picture -me sitting on a rag of carpet on the floor of a mud hut, a red -handkerchief tied tightly round my neck. A bald-headed old Mohammedan -holds in his hand a broken mug containing vinegar. He dips his thumb -in the vinegar, and then massages my cheeks and chin and neck. It was -queer to feel his broad thumb pounding against my skin and chinbone. He -made no lather, but he thought that he softened my skin with his hard -thumb and the vinegar. Then he brandished a broken razor over my head, -and fairly tore the hair off my face with it. He gave me no water with -which to rinse, but as he finished his job he put into my hand three -inches of broken mirror so that I could survey my new countenance and -judge whether he had done well. - -The Chinese at the post-house behaved like Christians, or, rather, as -Christians should, with great humbleness and altruism, giving up the -samovar to Russian visitors, fetching water to fill the washing-bowls, -cleaning and drying the dishes after their breakfast, and sweeping the -post-room floor before they went away. The postmaster’s wife said there -was a constant flow of Chinese, and they always behaved in that way. - -Kopal, four thousand feet above the sea level, is in the midst of fine -scenery, and the frontier all the way to Chugachak and the shoulder of -the Altai mountains is wild and desolate. The boundary is marked by -numbered poles, but there are few soldiers or excisemen to question you -if you cross either way. There is a certain amount of smuggling done, -one of the articles brought through from China being Havana cigars, of -which the local bureaucracy is said to be fond. - -Sportsmen on the road to Kuldja sometimes put up at Kopal. They -are given facilities to make such journeys and receive honourable -treatment, their names being forwarded to all the postmasters on the -way and instructions being posted in all the post-houses along the -road. It was interesting to read on the post-house walls notices of -the following type: - -“There will pass this way” (then would come an English name). “You are -to give him horses and all of which he may stand in need. In the case -of his being hindered for any reason, you will be severely punished.” - -These English often possess their own _tarantasses_, and sleep in them -at night. In that way they avoid the unpleasantness of sleeping in a -room full of Chinese. On the whole it is better to sleep out of doors -than in. - - - - -XII - -“MIDSUMMER NIGHT AMONG THE TENT-DWELLERS” - - -I walked forth from Kopal on a broad moorland road, and after several -hours’ upland tramping came to the Cossack village of Arazan--a typical -willow-shaded settlement with irrigation streamlets rushing along the -channels between the roadway and the cottages. Here, at the house of -a herculean old soldier, I was offered for dinner a dish of hot milk, -ten lightly boiled eggs, and a hunch of black bread--the typical meal -of the day for a wanderer in these parts. In the pleasant coolness of -five o’clock sunshine I passed out at the other end of the only street -of the village and climbed up into the hills beyond. I turned a neck in -the mountains, descended by little green gorges into strange valleys, -and climbed out of them to high ridges and cold, windswept heights. All -about me grew desolate and rugged. It was touching to look back at the -little collection of homes that I had left--the compact, little island -of trees in the ocean of moorland below me and behind me--and look -forward to the pass where all seemed dreadful and forbidding in front. - -In such a view I spread my bed and slept. The hill-side was covered -with mullein stalks, and as it grew dark these stalks seemed to grow -taller and taller and blacker all about me till they looked like a -great wood of telegraph poles. The vast dark masses of the mountains -dreamed, and in the lightly clouded heaven stars peeped across the -world, rain-laden winds blew over me, and I had as lief it rained as -not, so dry was everything after weeks of summer heat. But no rain -came, though the winds were cool and the night was sweet. - -Next morning, with great difficulty, I collected roots and withered -grass enough to boil a pot and make my morning tea, and I sat and ate -my breakfast in the presence of Mrs. Stonechat and her four fluffy -little youngsters, gurgling and chirping and not afraid to sit on the -same bank with me, while their mother harangued them on “How to fly.” -While sitting there the large raindrops came at last, and they made -deep black spots in the dust of the road, the lightning flashed across -my knife, the thunder rolled boulders about the mountains, and I sped -to a cave to avoid a drenching shower. - -I was in a somewhat celebrated district. The Pass and the Gorge of -Abakum are among the sights of Seven Rivers Land, and are visited by -Russian holiday-makers and picnickers. All the rocks are scrawled with -the names of bygone visitors, and by that fact alone you know the place -has a name and is accounted beautiful. When the rain ceased, and I -ventured out of the cave again, I saw a Russian at work writing his -name. He had a stick dipped in the compound with which the axles of -his cart-wheels were oiled, and the wheels of the cart were nearly -off for him to get it. For the first time I saw how these intensely -black scrawls of names and signatures are written on the rocks. We are -content to scratch our names with a bit of glass or a nail, or to chalk -them, or cut them with a pocket-knife; but the Russians are fond of -bold, black signatures two or three feet long, and they make them with -this pitch and oil from the wheels of their carts. - -It was a pleasant noontide on the narrow road, between crumbling indigo -rocks and heaped debris. The stony slopes were rain-washed, the air -fresh, and all along the way these dwarf rose bushes which I had seen -on the road to Kopal, thorny, but covered with scores of bright yellow -blossoms on little red stems. The jagged highway climbed again high -up--to the sky, and gave me a vision of a new land, the vast dead -plain of Northern Semi-retchie and of Southern Siberia. Northward to -the horizon lay deserts, salt marshes, and vast lakes with uninhabited -shores, withered moors and wilted lowlands. I saw at a glance how -uninteresting my road was to become if I persevered straight ahead -towards Semipalatinsk, and I resolved to keep to the mountains in which -I found myself, and follow them eastward and north-eastward to the -remoter town of Lepsinsk. - -[Illustration: A PATRIARCHAL KIRGHIZ FAMILY] - -From that height, which was evidently the famous pass, I descended -into the pretty gorge of Abakum. The road was steep and narrow, the -cliffs on each side sheer. A little foaming stream runs down from the -cliffs, over rubbish heaps of rocks, and accompanies the highway in -an artificially devised channel. A strange gateway has been formed in -a thin partition of rock, and through this runs the stream below and -the telegraph wire overhead; there is a footway, but carts are obliged -to make a detour. At this gateway and on the rocks I saw a further -intimation of commercial Siberia. Commercial travellers had scrawled: - - BUY PROVODNIK GALOSHES AT OMSK - -and - - BUY INDIAN TEA AND GET RICH - -which was almost as if I had seen in the midst of the wilderness -something like “Owbridge’s Lung Tonic: 4,000 miles to London.” Still, -these advertisements of galoshes and tea were scrawled, not printed, -and were done voluntarily by enthusiastic travellers who probably -received no fee for doing such a thing. In England you cut your -Rosalind’s name on the tree; in Russia your own name; in America you -write what O. Henry called “your especial line of graft,” and all the -New World is scrawled with hand-written advertisements of trade. So -in the far-off gorge of Abakum I saw a suggestion of the America of -the future-great commercial Siberia, to which perchance, some day, -Americans will emigrate for work as the Russians emigrate to America -to-day. - -I felt this pass and gateway to be the entrance to Siberia, though, -politically, the frontier is about three hundred miles distant. After -six or seven turns the road issued forth upon a level strand of green -and grey--the Siberian southern steppe. Lepsinsk, my next point, was -the first town with a name ending in “sk,” and there are scarcely more -than four towns in Siberia not ending so. None of the emigrant carts -that I now met were coming from the south, but all from Siberia, and -many of the emigrants were Siberians discontented with their northern -holdings. They seemed poor people, and the caravans were rather -woebegone. There is a good deal of land offered to the emigrants in -the neighbourhood of Lepsinsk, most of it contiguous to the Chinese -boundary; but, though it is green and fertile, it is as hard a land -to settle as the plains in the south. The Siberians missed the pine -forests, the shelter and the fuel of them, and it was a sight to see -the straggling procession of women behind the dust-covered wagons--they -had to spread themselves about the moor and the roadway, and search for -roots and splinters of wood with which to make a fire at the end of -their day’s journey. All the women held their aprons or petticoats up, -and gathered the fuel into their laps. It took them nearly all day to -get enough for the fires to boil the nightly soup. - -For me, however, it was a green and joyous road from Abakum eastward -to Sarkand, keeping to the mountain slopes and not faring forth upon -the scorched plain that lies away northward. I did not repent that the -cross-roads tempted me to go eastward, hugging the mountains. Long -green grass waved on each side of the road, and in the grass blue -larkspur and immense yellow hollyhocks. I was in the land where the -Kirghiz has his summer pasture, and often I came upon whole clans that -had just pitched their tents. It was a many-coloured picture of camels, -bulls and horses, of sheep swarming among children, of kittens playing -with one another’s tails, of tents whose framework only was as yet put -up, of heaps of felt and carpet on the grass, of old wooden chests -and antediluvian pots and jugs of sagging leather lying promiscuously -together, while the new home was not made. On this road the Chinese -jugglers overtook me and camped very near where I slept one night. I -was amused to see the old conjurer who had juggled the steaming samovar -out of thin air hunting mournfully for bits of wood and roots to make -that same samovar boil in real earnest. - -Next day I came to the village of Jaiman Terekti and its remarkable -scenery. The River Baskau flows between extraordinary banks, great -bare rocks, all squared and architectural in appearance, giving the -impression of immense ancient fortresses over the stream. These -squared and shelved rocks are characteristic of the country-side -and the geological formations, and they give much grandeur to what -otherwise were quiet corners. The gateway of Abakum itself owes its -impressiveness to this geological rune. - -At a village hereabout I fell in with four boys going up into the -mountains to study for the summer. They were students from some -large engineering college, and, as part of their training, they -had been sent out to study irrigation works and bridges in this -colony. At every bridge we came to on the road they stopped and gave -it their consideration, and made notes as to its structure and its -necessities, and at each village they considered the control of the -mountain streams, the canalisation of the water, and the uses to which -the natural supplies of water could be put. They called themselves -_hydrotechnics_, and would eventually blossom, perhaps, into irrigation -engineers. Their trip was costing them no more than one hundred -roubles--say, ten pounds each for the three months of summer. Their -headquarters was to be a village on a river about a hundred miles north -of Lepsinsk; there they would pitch their tents and camp, cooking their -meals, arranging expeditions, and making good their study. Altogether -about three dozen young students would turn up at their camping-ground, -and make up the equivalent of a summer class. - -The four young men had in their protection a lady in cotton trousers, -a tall young woman of athletic appearance and good looks. She -and her two little children were on their way to the husband, a -Government engineer, who had charge of the building of the new town of -Lepsinsk--the nearest railway point to Old Lepsinsk. She was a very -striking figure in her _sharivari_, and the natives collected round her -and stared in an absurd fashion. She told me she had bought the print -for 1 rouble 87 copecks, and made them herself just before starting -out; skirts were so inconvenient for travelling in and collected -the dirt so. But she drew thereby an enormous amount of attention to -herself, it must be said. She was rather a crazy Kate. It tickled me -to think how her husband would pitch into her when she arrived at her -destination. But perhaps I was mistaken, and he was so homesick that he -would not even laugh when she appeared. She was a regular scapegrace, -with light blue, torn, openwork stockings, and button boots, one of -which was fastened with a safety-pin, the other with two shirt-buttons. -But she was very naïve and had bunches of smiles on her lips--the sort -to which much is forgiven. When she tried to smack her children, they -went for her tooth and nail, and the little boy, aged two, continually -imitated someone, probably the father, and addressed his mother thus: - -“_Akh tee somnoi ne zagovarivaisia_” (“Don’t stand there talking to -me.”) - -“_Bross!_” (“Stop it!”) - -“_Pliun!_” (“Spit!”) - -I was called upon to imitate cats and dogs and sheep and pigeons and -camels, and make-believe generally to an unlimited extent. - -The lady told an amusing story of a banquet to which the Kirghiz had -invited her husband and herself. It should be explained that the -Russian for the head of an animal is _golovo_, and for the head of an -expedition or band of workmen is _glavny_, the adjective derived from -_golovo_, a head. At this banquet in the Kirghiz tent the engineer was -put in the highest seat, and was told that the dinner was coming. -Suddenly a Kirghiz appeared with a roast sheep’s head, and carried it -to the Russian, saying: - -“Please, eat!” - -“What’s this?” asked the engineer. “The head for me; that won’t do at -all. I don’t want the sheep’s head; you must cut me something more -tasty.” - -“No, please,” said the Kirghiz. “You are the head man, and you must eat -the head.” - -“That will never do,” said the Russian. But they besought him to honour -their custom and permit the rest to eat, for until he had started on -the head nobody else might begin. - -All the engineer’s workmen were Kirghiz, for he was working in Kirghiz -country, in a district as yet untouched by Russian colonisation. The -wife and her babies turned off at a mountain track, and were taken to -her husband’s camping-ground by a Kirghiz. We were loath to let the -woman go, for she had given much gaiety to the road. - - * * * * * - -Lepsinsk is what the Russians call a _medvezhy ugolok_ (a bear’s -corner), a place where in winter the wolves roam the main street as -if they did not distinguish it from their peculiar haunts. It is by -post-road 945 miles from Tashkent on the one hand, and 1,040 miles from -Omsk on the other--roughly, 1,000 miles from a railway station. It is -high up on the mountains on the Mongolian frontier, and lives a life of -its own, almost completely unaware of what is happening in Russia and -in Europe--a window on to Mongolia, as a local wit has called it. - -In the course of the next five years a railway is to be run from -Semipalatinsk to Verney, and as Lepsinsk is the largest town on the -way, it should in justice pass through it. But Lepsinsk is high. When -the news of the projected railway came, the burgesses made a petition -to the authorities asking to be informed where exactly the railway -would be, and they would remove Lepsinsk thither. Everyone who had any -business would transfer his stock. They were informed, and in a year, -or a year and a half, Lepsinsk promised to remove itself fifty miles -westward. Building operations were in full swing on the new site, land -having been allowed by the Government free; and the engineer whose wife -we had met was in charge. If the war does not preclude the continuation -of the railway construction, Old Lepsinsk will be abandoned. - -I spent four days in the town in the company of the young -_hydrotechnics_. We were given rooms free at the Zemsky guest-house, -and I stayed three nights there before resuming my journey toward the -Irtish. The students quickly found and made friends with people in the -town. We found a family that came from the same country-side as one of -the young men, and spent the whole evening in a big farmhouse, drinking -tea, trying musical instruments, and singing Russian choruses. Next day -we went to the colonists’ information office, made friends with the -young man in charge, and went and played _pyramid_ with him in the -town assembly rooms; several other folk came in, young and old, and -joined in the game of billiards till we were a dozen or more. After -billiards we all sat down to a crude lunch of boiled and undisguised -beef, without vegetables, but with jugs of creamy milk to drink. The -conversation went on cards, billiards, the coming Sunday-night dance. -Couldn’t an orchestra be made up to supplant the usual gramophone to -which the people danced on Sunday evenings? Had the cinematograph films -come, and that had been so long expected? What would happen if one -showed a cinema film backward--wouldn’t the story be often more funny? - -[Illustration: SHEEP-SHEARING OUTSIDE THE TENT HOME] - -Sunday morning we spent in the domain of the colonists’ information -bureau, and interviewed peasants for the manager whilst he was still in -bed. What a litter there was everywhere--tea glasses, cigarette boxes, -picture post cards, electric lamps, old letters, forms issued by the -Government, maps--the same in the bedroom as in the office. There was a -typewriter, and I amused myself trying to write English sentences with -the Russian type, there being a fair number of letters in the Russian -language resembling our own. The people who came for information had -various pleas. One was ill, another had quarrelled with her husband. -An old man pushed in front of him a rather downcast young woman, and -commenced his appeal to us in these words: “I recommend this woman to -your mercy. The land which is hers is being stolen away from her.” -She had fallen out with her husband, and had fled to her father’s -house. But meanwhile the husband was trying to sell the land or raise -money on it--at least, so the father said. But we pointed out to him -that that was nonsense; the land was not yet the unqualified property -of the husband, and he could not sell it; he could only give it back -to the Government, and so on and so on. On Sunday evening we all went -to the assembly rooms, and saw Lepsinsk in its Sunday best, talked -vociferously in crowds, listened to a gramophone, watched peasant -girls and young men dance melancholy waltzes--there was no Russian -dancing, but the people were glad to think themselves “European.” I -made acquaintance with the _ispravnik_, or whoever he was who ruled -Lepsinsk, and with the local rich men--a remote, obtuse, provincial -set, whose only interest was cards. They were very keen on playing me -at _preference_, a complex Russian card game which I have generally -thought it worth while not to learn, and I was amused to hear that -they would teach me, and what I lost would pay for my lesson. I talked -a little about England. They got their daily papers three weeks after -issue, as a rule, but they read them as new when they came. Their -chief idea of our British activities was that the suffragettes were -assassinating, murdering, bombing, expropriating, and they chuckled -over the fact that our men were not able to manage the women. - -Lepsinsk is an out-of-the-way place, and, as far as the road is -concerned, a blind alley among the mountains. I was much exercised -to know which way I should go next, and I did not want to retrace -my steps to Altin-Emel. The map and my route was another topic of -conversation among the worthies of Lepsinsk. Everyone gave me a -different account of the roads and the ferries. Eventually I decided to -cut across country and take the risk of marshes or rushing water lying -in my path--a rash decision, as I might after a day or so be forced to -walk back to the town and try some other way; but it turned out to be a -perfectly happy decision. On this track I saw more of the Cossacks and -of the Kirghiz, two races in striking contrast, and I spent Midsummer -Night--always a festival night--under very beautiful and unusual -circumstances. - -Lepsinsk is a Cossack settlement. All the young men are horsemen, -have to serve their term in war, and are liable to military service -without any exemption or exception. All Cossack families and Cossack -villages are brought up on these terms. The children are taught to get -on to horseback and ride as we teach our children to walk. They learn -the songs which the regiment sings as it comes up the main street -on horseback, bearing the black pikes in their hands. The women, -whose children and husbands go to the war, are patient as the mother -of Taress Bulba. War is the normal condition of life, and the mere -manœuvres are taken so seriously that the opposing parties frequently -forget that it is only a friendly test, and do one another serious -injury. “The Cossacks get so enraged, and they can’t stop themselves -when they are called upon to charge the sham enemy,” said a Lepsinsk -boy to me. - -On the Monday morning I said good-bye to the students, and, shouldering -my knapsack, set off in a north-westerly direction to find Sergiopol, -forded the Lepsa river, and climbed out of the green valley where -Lepsinsk lies as in a cup. The mountain-sides were rankly verdant, and -the purple labiate was thick as in spring-time. It may be remarked that -strawberries were not expected to ripen in Lepsinsk for three weeks, -whereas six weeks ago in Tashkent they had been a penny a pound. - -I passed over the fresh green hills and panted at the gradient, plunged -down through beautiful meadows, slept a night in the Cossack station of -Cherkask, lying on some felt and being almost eaten up by mosquitoes in -what the soldier host called a garden. In this village I saw a pitiful -sight--almost naked Kirghiz women treading wet mud and manure into -stuff for fuel blocks. They looked astonishingly bestial and degraded. -You could not feel that they had any soul or stood in any way above -the animals. Yet as young women they had probably been attractive and -pretty in their day, and might even have won the fancy of white men. -There was a question whether the wife in _Candida_ who soiled her -lovely fingers putting kerosene into the lamps was really degraded by -dirt, but here was something nearer reality. - -I slept on the sand beside Gregoriefsky, and next day went deep into -the desert, into a land of snakes, eagles, snipe, and lizards. On -the Lepsa shore I saw forests of the gigantic reeds with which the -houses and bridges are roofed. Here were leagues of ten-feet rushes -that waved boisterously in the wind as in a cinema picture. I was -warned here against the boa-constrictor; but the worst I saw were -intent-eyed little snakes gliding away from me, scared at the sound of -the footfall. I got my noon-day meal of koumis in a Kirghiz _yurt_, -borrowed a horse with which to get across the difficult fords, one of -black, reed-grown mud, the other of swift-flowing water. All day I -ploughed through ankle-deep sand, and but for the fact that the sun was -obscured by cloud, I should have suffered much from heat. As it was, -the dust and sand-laden wind was very trying. Early in the evening I -resolved to stop for the day, and found shelter in one of twenty tents -all pitched beside one another in a pleasant green pasture-land which -lay between two bends of the river--a veritable oasis. Even here, as I -sat in the tent, I listened to the constant sifting of the sand on the -felt sides and roof. - -[Illustration: IN SUMMER PASTURE: EVENING OUTSIDE THE KIRGHIZ TENT] - -It was a good resting-place. An old man spread for me carpets and rugs, -and bade me sleep, and I lay down for an hour, the sand settling on me -all the time, and blowing into my eyes and my ears and my lips. In the -meantime tea was made for me from some chips of Mongolian brick tea. -The old Kirghiz took a black block of this solidified tea dust and cut -it with an old razor. The samovar was an original one. It had no tap, -and leaked as fast as it would pour. Consequently, a bowl was set -underneath to catch the drip. This filled five or six times before -boiling-point was reached, the contents of the bowl being each time -returned to the body of the samovar. - -After tea I went out and sat on a mound among the cattle, and watched -the children drive in sheep and goats and cows, and the wives milk them -all. It was a scene of gaiety and beauty. There were many good-looking -wives, slender and dainty, though they were so short in stature, had -white turbans on their heads and jackboots on their feet. As they went -to and fro, laughing among themselves and bending over the cattle, -their breasts hanging like large full pears at the holes made in their -cotton clothes for the convenience of their babies, they looked a very -gentle and innocent creation. These women did all the work of milking, -and I saw them handle with rapidity ewes, she-goats, cows, mares, -draining all except the last into common receptacles. The mares’ milk -alone was kept separate, to be made into koumis. I must say my taste -rebelled against a mixture of sheep’s milk, goats’ milk and cows’ -milk, even when made sour; but the Kirghiz were not worried with such -fastidiousness. - -When the milking was accomplished fires were lit in oblong holes dug in -the earth outside the tents--the Kirghiz stoves. Bits of mutton were -cut up and fixed on skewers and placed over the glowing ashes in the -holes. So supper was cooked. I was called into a tent, and there made -to sit on a high wooden trunk, while eight or ten others sat below me -on rugs. “You are a _barin_,” said the oldest man. “You must have the -highest seat.” Seated up there, they brought me about a dozen skewers -of grilled mutton on a wooden plate and bade me eat. I should not have -been surprised to see a sheep’s head brought in to me. - -“Oh,” I said, “it’s far too much for me.” - -“You eat first,” said the old man. “Then we will eat.” - -So I took a skewer and put them at their ease. There were in the tent -the old man, his son, two wives of the latter, several children, an old -woman, and a minstrel. Outside and in other tents were many sons-in-law -and daughters-in-law and cousins, a whole genealogical tree of a -family. Among the Kirghiz all sons remain in the father’s and father’s -father’s family; only the girls change families, sold or arranged for -in marriage. The men all wore hats, or, rather, bonnets, trimmed with -an edging of fox’s fur, and the foxes from whose thighs this fur had -been taken had been captured by trained eagles. The Kirghiz are deeply -versed in falconry, and have diverse birds for various preys: hawks for -cranes, for plovers, and for hares. They hunt the fox, whose skin is -very precious, with eagles. They carry the hawks on their wrists when -they ride, and for the support of heavy birds they have stalls or rests -coming up from their saddles to hold the bird arm, whilst they hold -the horse’s reins with the other. The most interesting man in the tent -in which I supped was the minstrel, a tall, gaunt heathen in ragged -cotton slops; he thrummed on a two-stringed guitar and improvised -Kirghiz songs till the dusk grew dark and midsummer night came out with -countless stars over the desert and the tents and the cattle and the -wanderers. - -Asked whether I would sleep inside the tent or out, I preferred the -open air, and my hosts made a couch for me, a pile of rugs over an -uneven thickness of mown clover. And there I lay and watched the stars -come into their places in the sky as at the lifting of a conductor’s -baton. It was St. John’s Eve, a night of mystery and of remembrances. -A young moon looked down on me. In the twenty tents around me were -singing and music and momentary strange illuminations. Inside the -tents the Kirghiz set fire every now and then to piles of weeds, which -flared up, causing all the felt walls and roofs of the tents to glow -like strange, enormous, shimmering paper lanterns, like fire reflected -in silver. They would suddenly glimmer and glow and glimmer again, the -light would go, and the grey-white tent would be opaque again. - -All night across the sleeping encampment came volumes of music from -young throats, the songs of the children minding the cattle. The -stillness of the night reigned about this music, and was intensified -by the _dun-dun_ of rusty camel-bells, the jangle of the irons on -hobbled horses, the occasional sneeze of a sheep with a cold, and the -hullabaloo of dogs barking on false alarms. I lay and was nibbled -under by goats, trying to get at the clover, and breathed at by -ruminating cows. - -So the night passed. Orion chased the Pleiades across the sky. The -eyes that stared or lay open and were stared at by the stars drooped, -and eyelids came down over the little windows. Sprites danced among -us, tiptoed where we slept, breathed devilry upon our faces and dusty -clothes, and I dreamed sweetly of home and other days. - -Next morning I felt the turn of the year and looked forward to the -glorious autumn and the new life coming after the long journey and the -much tramping. - -I was up at the dawning and away before the hot sun rose. The old man -of the Kirghiz gave me my breakfast himself, a pot of _airann_ and a -cake of _lepeshka_, and came forward with me, showing me the track -onward towards Sergiopol. - - - - -XIII - -OVER THE SIBERIAN BORDER - - -I crossed the Lepsa by a bridge made of old herring barrels, struck the -highway to Sergiopol at Romanovskaya, and pursued my journey along the -sandy wastes and salt swamps on the eastern borders of Lake Balkhash. -The Lepsa falls into this great lake at last. The wind blew up the -sand so that there was some chance of missing the way, and I sat some -hours on my knapsack and shut my eyes to keep the sand out. It was -dreary country, yellow and inhospitable. The odour of the bleached -grasses and herbs was almost overpowering, and food and palatable -water were far to seek. Tall, bleached and withered grasses and white -weeds and dust-laden, knobbly steppe; wind and racing sand--sand in my -eyes, in my mouth, on my body--I felt a most despicable creature, and -questioned my sanity in ever starting out on such an absurd journey as -this through Russian Central Asia. But I saw ahead of me Sergiopol, -Semipalatinsk, and a happier clime. Sixty versts north of Romanovskaya -the road, gradually ascending a long moor, entered broken country -through black and rusty mountainettes, and here was a little crooked -gorge with a stream through it, and it was possible to sit by my own -little fire and make tea for myself once more. Then more moorland, and -heavily scented grass, and enormous bustards, the size of goats, and -skinny little brown marmots, and withered mullein stalks, and comical -blue jackdaws perching on them and cocking their heads to one side -and peering at me as I passed. Then streams of colonists and their -carts. Then an official and his wife, sleeping in their night attire -in their slowly moving _tarantass_, huge pillows for their heads, and -sheets and quilts and what not--an example of the Russians’ gift for -making themselves at home. Near Ince-Agatch I met two Germans going -cheerfully along on foot--as I was--a botanist and a geologist, neither -of them speaking Russian, but feeling pretty well as much at home as in -Germany, more so, perhaps. One wonders what was their fortune at the -outbreak of war. There are certain international pursuits that know -no restriction of national or imperial ground. I do not suppose the -Russian grudges the German making a study of his flowers and rocks--if -he is not spying at the same time. Probably we ought not to lay so much -stress on purely national research in ornithology, entomology, geology, -botany, the ways of peoples, and so forth. Individuals and their work -are dedicated to their nation and their empire, but that should not -keep our practical scientists, collectors, prospectors, students to -a mere portion of the surface of the globe. Russian Central Asia and -Siberia claims greater attention from our scientific men, hunters, -and expert collectors. Russians, on the whole, do little; Germans -have done something; but it does not matter by whom it is explored, -there lies here a vast natural field for the study of mankind. These -domains are scarcely touched, except by vulgar gold hunters and rock -tappers--people of paltry greed and little imagination. The great era -of research has not even begun, and libraries of books have yet to be -written on the natural wonders and astonishing discoveries to be found -and made in this wilder and more neglected half of Asia. After the war -Siberia and Russian Central Asia will begin to draw more attention from -us. - -[Illustration: FOUR WIVES OF A RICH KIRGHIZ] - -Sergiopol, the last point in Seven Rivers Land before entering Siberia, -is a beautifully situated diminutive town, or, rather, village, for it -has been degraded from the rank of town. The hills and moors around it -are beautiful virgin country, bathed in pleasant sunshine and breathing -healthful air; but in itself it is but a miserable place, a collection -of wee grocer-shops and cotton stores. The shopkeepers are mostly -Tartars, doing very small trade and thinking it very large and feeling -“passing rich.” The vendors of cotton goods do the most trade, for all -the Kirghiz wear cotton and give a great deal of consideration to the -purchase of it. I met a commercial traveller smoking a cigarette in -the market-place, a man sent out by one of the great cotton firms of -Moscow, and he was carrying bags of samples to all the stores of Seven -Rivers Land. The Tartars took so long to decide what they were going to -buy that the traveller was reduced to a novel procedure. Directly he -arrived at a settlement he took from his chest eight bags of samples, -and went rapidly from one shop to another, leaving a bag at each, and -saying he would return in an hour and a half. Then he went into the -market-place and had a smoke and chat with chance comers. If there were -more than eight shops he had a second round, and distributed the bags -to the remainder after the first set had come to a decision. Not a very -good way of doing business, one would think; but, then, the Tartars -spoke in their own language, consulted their wives about materials -and colours, and liked to be free of the presence of the Russian. He -did quite a good business. He told me that his cotton goods found a -large market in China. The Chinese and the Kirghiz were extremely -critical as to the quality of the cotton and the colour and design. -You could not palm off shoddy cotton on these people. It was their -Sunday best as well as week-day, and their outer garment as much and -more than undergarment. Its quality and appearance mattered. Neither -German cotton nor their own Lodz manufacture was any use. Lodz is the -great centre for the production of shoddy cotton--so much so that the -adjective Lodzinsky is a Russian colloquialism for shoddy, and when you -say _Lodzinsky tovar_ it is more than when we say “a bit of Brummagem.” -Moscow, however, produces good qualities of cotton and good prints. -Manchester has dropped behind Moscow in this respect and tended to -compete rather with Lodz. Perhaps after the war we shall solve this -passion for cheapness, this competition with Germany in turning -out _cheap_ wares, and will revert to our earlier prejudice in favour -of British quality. It is rather touching in Russia that best quality -goods are often called _Anglisky tovar_ (English wares), even when made -in Russia. Our reputation for thoroughness survives. - -[Illustration: AT A KIRGHIZ FUNERAL] - -Still, I do not suppose that Great Britain will ever compete with -Russia in the supply of cotton to the interior. Russians and English -living in Russia have imported our British machinery and set up mills -which are really British mills on Russian soil, and an enormous -business has been founded. Russia, moreover, hopes to be able to grow -enough raw cotton in her Central Asian dominions to be able to make -her cotton business a national self-dependent industry. Cotton is the -material mostly used for clothing in Russia, even in the towns. The -women are still content with cotton dresses and the men with cotton -blouses. When cloth and “stuff” come in, if they ever do, the cotton -industry will tend to degenerate, but not till then. - -Sergiopol is a place of little significance. But the next town, -Semipalatinsk, in Siberia, is a large colonial town, with over -35,000 inhabitants--larger, even, than Verney. But Siberia is an -old-established Russian colony, while Seven Rivers began only fifty -years ago, and was a desert. Perhaps even now it is little more than a -desert qualified by irrigation. The obstacles in the way of successful -settlement have been tremendous. Still, these obstacles are being -overcome. The result of half a century’s work is a measure of clear -success and a healthy promise. Hundreds of Russian villages have -established themselves, and the channels of small trade have been kept -open. Yellow deserts have become green with verdure, and chains of -oases have been made. Russian schools and Russian churches have arisen -on the northern side of India, and an essentially Christian culture is -spreading in a way that is clearly profitable to the Old World. The -colony sadly needs a railway, and the railway is being built quickly, -even now, in the time of the war. For the Kirghiz, who do most of the -labour, are not required for military service. When the railway comes, -more people will come with it, more colonists, more traders, and they -will take away the products which the farmers would gladly sell. We -are accustomed to think of railways spoiling districts, but Russian -Central Asia, with its empty leagues of sand and barrenness, will only -profit by the railway. The railway must go east from Tashkent all the -way to Verney, and probably as far as Kuldja, in China, then northward, -through Iliisk and Sergiopol, to Semipalatinsk, through Siberian -farms and settlements, forests and marshes, to the Siberian main line -at Omsk. This will greatly strengthen the Russian Empire when it is -achieved. It will be a wise measure of consolidation. - -M. de Vesselitsky, in his able book on Russia, remarks that whereas -in 1906 the population of Canada was greater than that of Siberia, -in 1911 Siberia had two million more inhabitants. This is the more -astonishing because Canada has splendid and populous towns, whereas -Siberia has only three cities of over a hundred thousand inhabitants. -A strange contrast to European Russia, this Asiatic Russia; no Court, -no Emperor, no aristocracy, no modern aims or claims, no power--in a -sense, human tundra and taiga, though many millions are living there. -Then a power enters it, commercial capital and the Russian desire to -get rich, and Siberia begins to seek new wealth. European Russia and -the dazzling if somewhat tawdry West begins to hear of the wealth of -Siberia. Our civilisation, the centre of attraction, draws from all the -outside wilds and wildernesses gold, precious stones, skins. So we help -Siberia in the material sense and set its industrial life a-going. - - - - -XIV - -ON THE IRTISH - - -The most interesting circumstance in the history of Semipalatinsk up -till now is that Dostoieffsky, in exile, was domiciled there. The -cities dotting the wastes of Siberia are not notable. They are young, -and things have not happened in them. But dreary Semipalatinsk held the -mightiest spirit in modern Russia--Fedor Dostoieffsky, the author of -“The Brothers Karamazof.” So Semipalatinsk, on the loose sands of the -River Irtish, has now its Dostoieffsky house, where Dostoieffsky lived, -and a Dostoieffsky street. It will, no doubt, be a place of pilgrimage -in the future for those wishing to grasp the significance of the great -Russian. - -Semipalatinsk is a dull collection of wooden houses and stores, an -important trading centre functionising an immense country-side. What -struck me most were the large general shops, with their extensive -supplies of manufactured goods and all manner of luxuries. There were -at least six department stores, with handsome clocks, vases, bedroom -furniture, mandolins, violins, guitars, Vienna boots, American boots, -gay hats, silk dresses, wrapped chocolates, promiscuous and lavish -supplies of all manner of European goods. English wares seemed -noticeable chiefly by their absence, and the cutlery was Swedish, the -stoves Austrian, the wools and the cottons Russian, the note-paper -American or French, the wonderful enamel ware and nickel and aluminium -ware German. Only sanitary contrivances, cream separators, and -agricultural machinery seemed to be English. How much more of these -things might be sent. However, with all these signs of luxury--luxury -for Russians--Semipalatinsk lacks the graces of a town; has no -lighting, no pavement or public place, no theatre, only a cinema. Its -prospect is waste, loose sand, which the air holds even in calm--a -grit in the eyes and in the mouth. Its trees do not flourish, and only -people accustomed to a quiet life could go on living there from year -to year. The peasants bring most life into the town, selling their -products in the immense open market, or buying manufactured goods to -take up-country to their farms. The broad River Irtish flows placidly -onward, five hundred miles to Omsk and thousands of miles to the Arctic -Ocean, and it is navigated by a considerable number of steamers and -sailing boats. It is a great waterway--a sort of safer sea in the -heart of Asia. The wonder is that more towns have not sprung up on its -shores. In the history of the world it has not yet become a typical -river. It flows from the silences of the Altai mountains, through the -silences of Northern Asia, the noise of man hardly ever becoming more -than a whisper upon it. It never becomes - - Bordered by cities and hoarse - With a thousand cries, - -and it cannot be said that as we go onward to its mouth - - Cities will crowd to its edge - In a blacker incessanter line; - That the din will be more on its banks, - Denser the trade on its stream. - -It is almost as peaceful and serene as a river in an undiscovered -continent. - -At Semipalatinsk I stayed some days before taking boat up-stream -to Malo-Krasnoyarsk. It was here that I read of the astonishing -intelligence of the assassination of the Archduke of Austria and his -wife. The Russian papers of the time devoted a great deal of space to -the details of the murder, the reprisals taken by the Austrians, the -gossip of Europe. The preoccupation of the British Press with home -affairs was astonishing, and in all the telegraphed opinions of our -representative papers there was not an utterance that overstepped the -limits of conventionality. Whether the murder was planned politically -by Germany, as has been hinted, or planned politically by Serbia -for vengeance, or came about accidentally through the passion of a -noble Serb, it was in any case a test phenomenon. It had enormous -significance to diplomatists and scanners of political horizons. By -the attitude and behaviour of Germany and Austria their intentions, -at least in the Near East, could be gauged. But it did not seem of -sufficient importance to conscious England. The Austrians tried to -spread the idea that Russia had contrived and bought the murder of the -Archduke because she feared his intentions in the Balkans. But, out of -the Germanic dominions, that did not carry weight. Austria manifestly -threatened Serbia politically, and some British people scratched their -heads and asked questions: “Shall we go to war for Serbia?” Then came -the seemingly obvious answer: “No, not for _Serbia_!” which fairly -indicates the blindness of that part of England which was vocal at that -time. In that spirit we neglected our duty in connection with the St. -James’s conference after the first Balkan war, and in that spirit we -alienated Bulgaria in the great European war which followed. - -Austria threatened war, and there was clearly the prospect of Austria -and Russia fighting. I weighed it up in my mind as I waited at -Semipalatinsk, and more than once I asked myself whether I had not -better give up my journey onward and go straight to Western Russia. -But, deciding I did not want to write war correspondence, I concluded -I would continue my way, and rest as I had intended--on the verdant -Altai. So I left Semipalatinsk and went in a little steamer up the -narrowing and rocky river, past wooded islands, grey moors, and emerald -marshes. It was a long though not monotonous river journey. We stopped -at elementary wooden landing-stages beside small hamlets, bought -eggs, fish, fruit from peasant women and children, backed out into -midstream again, making our big wave that went washing along the banks -and drenching incautious boys and girls; we beat up the water with -our paddle, turned, saw ourselves clear of the pier, and a widening -stretch of water between us and the bank, found our course between the -buoys, avoided the weirs and the shallows. Morning became hot noon, -and the afternoon and twilight time came on, and then luminous starry -night, and again morning and hot noon. We stopped at the little town -of Ust-Kamennygorsk, the headquarters for several mining camps, a bit -of qualified civilisation not unknown to British mining engineers. -We had on board a couple of priests, a commercial traveller, some -workmen coming back from doing a job, and two dozen raw Cossacks who -had been ordered to serve on the Chinese frontier--rather interesting -to reflect now how they were travelling away from the place where -they would be needed. At that time all the preparations for war were -going on apace in Germany; the roads were full of horses newly bought -by the Government, the trains full of stores; at the military camps -the last manœuvres were being worked out with full regiments and the -complete panoply of war. We in the steamboat were all travelling the -wrong way, away from the interest of the world--the centre--up-stream -on the fast-flowing river, against the currents and the tendencies. -A month later all would come back, forced by the declaration of war. -Still, little we recked. We had a holiday spirit. There were several -high-school girls and girl students on board--_gimnasistki_ and -_kursistki_--and the deck was vocal with their chattering and laughing. -They were a charming contrast to rough Siberia. The deck passengers -drank vodka and sang. Down below deck was a public stove, and there -sizzled a score of pots--pots with jam, with eggs, with fish, with -chickens, with milk. I made my coffee there, and would frequently see -it rising at the boil and be unable to pick the pot out for others -tending their fish-soup and women taking the scum off their strawberry -jam. At each little village people bought things to cook, so that at -times you might have thought it was a sort of cooking expedition. - -[Illustration: KIRGHIZ PRAYING] - -So we went on at this momentous time in history. The river became more -rapid and difficult to navigate; it serpentined through wild gorges, -where the rocks were broken and ragged and squared and angular. The -steep cliffs were full of detail that was delicious to the eye. Where -the cliffs were not so steep Nature had clothed their nakedness with -mould and grass. We passed from placid stretches which seemed to throw -the rays of the sun back on the ship, the people and the sky, and we -entered the intense cold shadow of high, sheer rocks. The water became -green and shadowy. The scenery changed every moment as we went round -a new bend of the river and entered new territory through forbidding -gates of rock. Frequently we found ourselves in foaming cauldrons from -which there seemed to be no exit; we wandered round, travelling as -often north as south, and catching glimpses of sun from all imaginable -quarters, and found loopholes of escape to new reaches. The steamer -seemed a toy beside the huge cliffs on each side, and the sunshine, -when we came into it, seemed sufficient to blind the whole Altai. The -higher we pursued our winding way the higher became the cliffs, till -eventually we had grey crags of several hundred feet hanging over us. -In the earlier gorges the greenness of the vegetation of the hills -was reflected in the river in a deep, shadowy green, but in the later -ones the drear greyness of the cliffs was alone reflected, and the -swift-moving, placid water looked like oil. As far as Gusinaya Pristan -trees--birches--but infrequent ones, and growing in haphazard ways -from clefts in rocks. Besides our panting, puffing steamer, with its -streamer of dense smoke and persistent showers of sparks, there were -only rafts on the river--logs roped together, and peasants standing on -the water-washed floating platforms. They seemed to be very skilful in -managing them. On the banks we saw occasional tents and fishermen’s -tackle, small fires with tripods over them, and old black pots whereby -you guessed that fish were cooking. Occasional hay-making parties also -visible on the wan outskirts of farms. It was a fascinating journey, -and one could not take one’s eyes from the changing scene, the prospect -from door after door as we passed new rocks, the delicious side views, -the clefts and wounds healed with birch trees and greenery, the -battered, jaggy prominences, dull blue, purple, yellow with age and -many weathers. - -Everyone watched curiously for the next scene, and the change was so -frequent that no one got tired. Mountains, ridges--the grandeur of -our rock basins multiplied upon us so that we felt we were steadily -ascending a high mountain range by river. Night was wonderful, -especially when we stopped to put some cargo off or to take on wood, -and we got out and walked on the cliffs and the sand; the stars in the -sky had their drips of golden reflection in the river, and the opposite -banks and rocks were majestically silhouetted against the sky. The -navigation of this river is, perhaps, one of the sights of the future. -“Parties will be taken out.” But there is no romance there, no castles, -no ruins--only Nature and the grey tumultuous misery and beauty of a -scarred continent. - - - - -XV - -THE COUNTRY OF THE MARAL - - -Malo-Krasnoyarsk, on the Irtish, is a hot, sandy village supporting -itself by agriculture, fishing, and melon growing. It is treeless, no -one seeming to have cared to plant the trees which could so easily have -been grown, and the native Kirghiz are employed making fuel blocks out -of manure. The stacks of these black blocks give an unpleasant odour -when the wind is blowing over them. Otherwise, the Irtish is rather -wonderful--deep and green and swift, with powerful currents. - -From Malo-Krasnoyarsk I journeyed along the burnt road and over the -vast stretches of pungent wormwood that grow on the moors. The road -climbed to the mountain ridges of the Narimsky range, and along them -to the Central Altai. I had given up tramping now, and an old man in -a dirty crimson blouse drove me in a cart to Bozhe-Narimsky village, -took me for three shillings, and was ready to drive me to Kosh Agatch, -on the other side of the mountains, if I would say but the word. Kosh -Agatch, according to his reckoning, would be five hundred miles, and -he would have to plan a month’s journey over the mountains, hire extra -horses, and buy provisions. According to him traders made the journey -frequently, especially Tartars and Chinamen, buying maral horns. - -On the higher slopes of the Altai the sale of the horns of the maral -deer (_Cervus canadensis asiaticus_) seems to be, if not the chief, at -least the most picturesque means of earning a livelihood. I was making -my way into the maral country. Here the colonists, instead of farming -sheep and cows, farm a species of deer with very valuable horns--the -maral. The horns are not valuable as ornaments, or as bone, or as -drinking vessels, but as medicine. A very curious trade. The Russians -cut off the horns of the deer every spring, boil them, dry them, and -sell them into China, where they sell at the rate of about a shilling -an ounce, and give almost miraculous relief to women in the pains of -childbirth, make it possible for barren women to have children, and -many other things. - -“Is it good for that purpose?” I asked of the man who was driving me. - -“They say so,” said he, without committing himself. - -“But do Russian women use this medicine?” - -“No; it’s too expensive.” - -“But do they believe in it?” - -“No, they don’t need it. They are not like the Kitankas and Mongolians, -who suffer very much. These Chinawomen are like the camels here. The -camels would die out if it were not for the skill the Kirghiz women -have in making them breed. They would die out, but the Kirghiz keep -them going. The same with the Chinawomen; they need the powder of the -maral horn. No Chinawoman of any importance thinks of marrying without -a pair of maral horns in her possession, and if her father be too poor -to purchase them, the husband must. They all use it, and you can buy -the powder in any chemist’s shop in China.” - -“Or an imitation?” I suggested. - -My driver could not say whether the substance could be imitated. Later -on, on my journey, I saw marals, both on the run and in the immense -maral gardens which the Russians keep in their colony. - -Bozhe-Narimsky was a pleasant green corner, with tumbling river, -many willow trees, mosquitoes, marshes. Thence the road went higher -and higher to Maly Narimsky and Tulovka, through districts where -once were forests of great pines and now are only forests of stumps, -through wildernesses of pink mallow and purple larkspur, and over -vast, swelling uplands covered with verdure, finally to within sight -of gleaming streaks of snow and ice, the glaciers of the central -range. Bozhe-Narimsky, Maly Narimsky, Tulovka, Medvedka, Altaiskaya, -Katun-Karagai were the names of the Russian villages and Cossack -stations on the way up. Most of them were well-established settlements, -for this territory is Siberia, and not what is called Russian Central -Asia. It has been in Russian hands a long while, and only the fact -that Russia is so vast, and there is so much room for the overflow -of population, explains the backwardness of the colonisation of the -Altai. Russia has never had any enemies worth the name here, and has -very little to fear unless the Chinese ever turn bellicose. The only -people who stood in her way were the mild nomads, the Kalmeeks and the -Kirghiz. These had unrecognised rights to certain valleys, springs, -winter pastures, summer pastures, and they walled off their discoveries -with stones and boulders, never dreaming anyone would think of annexing -them. But when the Russian generals came riding down the valleys with -their engineers, saying, “Fix me a village here and a village there, -and give us twenty villages along the length of that valley,” no -Kirghiz or Kalmeek had the spirit to say nay, and with a melancholy -smile they crept away, leaving the fields to those who must take them. - -Near Tulovka I saw the first marals, six speedy deer running ahead -of as many horsemen, just outrunning their horses, but not disposed -to race out of sight and get lost. The horsemen, who were Cossacks, -carried lassos in their hands, and I rather wondered why they did not -shoot the deer and have done with their hunting. A villager put me -right, however. - -“These are not wild deer, but escaped ones,” said he. “There are no -wild deer left; they have all been caught now. No one has seen a wild -maral for fifteen years. They have all been caught and put in gardens, -and now we breed them. If they shoot these marals they lose six good -breeders. A buck maral is worth two hundred roubles. It’s a sad day for -the man who has lost these. It is very difficult to catch them, they -are very crafty; and then one doesn’t want to injure their horns in -taking them. They generally have to ride them down until they are dead -beat; no use frightening them; just keep them on the move and give them -no rest.” - -At Medvedka I stayed with an old man who kept a maral farm. My host was -a comical fellow, somewhat over six feet high, with long hair, bushy -beard, kind and gentle eyes--a giant’s shoulders, an ogre’s stomach, -but the walk and manners of a child. His great pine log house had a -threshold so large that you might almost call it a veranda but that -peasants do not have verandas. There were steps up to it, and then a -long covered way, one side of which was the log wall of the house, -in which peeped wee glass windows; the other side was a solid little -railing, where you could lean and watch the pigs, the turkeys, the -geese, the horses and dogs in the big farm-bounded farmyard. Beyond -the yard and the pasture stretched upward the voluminous and irregular -mountain-side, deep in a tangle of shadowy undergrowth and made -majestical by mighty firs. The gloom and splendour of the mountains -brooded over the big log house. - -[Illustration: IN THE ALTAI: KIRGHIZ TOMBS NEAR MEDVEDKA] - -On the veranda were a whole series of green, many-branching antlers -just sawn away from heads of marals--an unusual sight in any cottage. -They were velvety and hairy; if you touched them you found them soft. -Not the antlers hunters bring home and hang on their walls, nothing -hard or sharp or fearsome, but gentle, rounded and smooth-knobbed, -unripened antlers, sawn off from a stag’s head with a saw. - -Mikhail Nikanorovitch, mine host, took me up to his maral farm, a tract -of mountain-side many acres in extent, fenced in by a gigantic paling, -the posts of which were eight or nine feet high and very solid. The -maral is a magnificent jumper, and has been known to clear eight feet -upon occasion and get away. As the farmer has to buy the posts from -the Government, the construction of a _maralnik_, as they call it, is -not without considerable expense for the peasants. Quite a small place -would cost two hundred roubles. - -Mikhail and I stumped up the mountain-side quite a height till we came -to his wild enclosure. Mine host called the deer as his peasant wife -might have called chickens to their food, and they came fluttering -towards him to be fed, but, spying me, stopped short, sniffed the air, -then turned and fled to the wildernesses of their prison. - -“In the summer they are in this big place,” said Mikhail, “but in late -autumn, before the snows, we drive them into a smaller place, and we -feed them there all the winter. It is in this smaller place that we saw -off the horns in the early summer.” - -He took me along to the shed where the horns were sawn off. - -“We make the first cutting only when the calf has reached its third -year. We cut off the horns in June and the beginning of July--when the -antlers are most developed and so worth most. If we leave them later -they harden and are no use. They would then have to be allowed to bear -their horns till next spring, when in any case they shed them.” - -“What happens to those who have had their antlers sawn off; do they -shed the stumps?” I asked. - -“Yes, they shed their stumps. That is in April or May; and then they -change their coats and are generally in a bad state of health.” - -He described how they managed the animal during the sawing business: -put its fore-legs in a noose, its hind-legs in a noose, threw it on -the ground, bandaged the eyes, someone carefully holding the head and -saving the horns from damage all the time. They sawed off the horn with -an ordinary hand-saw--such a one was lying on a sort of bench in the -shed to which the old fellow had led me--and when the sawing was done -they stopped the bleeding with coaldust and salt, and then tied up the -stump tightly with linen. The blood soon stops flowing, and the maral, -being put at liberty, forgets and scarce knows what he has lost. In -their tamed state the deer have found a sort of alternative destiny, -and the peasants say that often marals which escape in the summer come -back voluntarily to the enclosures for food and shelter in winter-time. -Still, some do finally disappear, and although the villager I met -earlier was of opinion that all the marals had been caught, there must -still be many thousands at large upon the vast and unexplored Altai. In -their wild state they are extremely shy of human beings, and seemingly -with good reason. - -Old Mikhail, who was a kind of three-storied man, pottered about, -stooping the whole length of his huge body to pick wild strawberries -and raspberries, and he constantly called out to me to help myself to -fruit. When we got back to the farmhouse I found his wife boiling a -chicken for me in a pail over a bonfire in the garden. - -Mikhail showed me where they boiled the horns, and explained the -process of preservation. There were enormous coppers for the boiling. -The horns were put into boiling brine, just dipped in and taken out -several times. The difficulty was to immerse them and yet not touch the -metal sides of the pots. If the sides were touched the delicate skin -might easily be frayed. After the immersion the horns were exposed in -the open air. They dried fairly rapidly, and lost weight; by the time -they would be ready for sale they would have lost half their original -weight. In the late summer and autumn Chinese and Tartar merchants -appeared and made great deals in maral horns throughout the whole -district. In China the substance of the horn is known as _ludzon_. - -Mikhail was an extraordinarily hospitable type of peasant, and heaped -plenty on the table that evening--a great crust of honeycomb, for he -kept his own bees and possessed a hill-side dotted with white hives; -wooden basins full of berries; butter--and butter is rare enough in -peasants’ houses; and soup and chicken and white bannocks. We had an -amusing talk about England. He had never seen a train, the sea, an -Englishman, or a German or a Frenchman, or, indeed, any race but -Russian, Kirghiz, Chinamen, Tartars, Kalmeeks. We compared the prices -of things, and he was greatly alarmed at the cost of meat in England. I -made him wonder more and more. - -“Now, for instance, a hare,” said I. “I do not suppose they cost much -here, but in our country we pay six or seven shillings for one at -Christmas.” - -Mikhail was astonished. - -“What, for the skin?” asked he. - -“Oh, no; we don’t value the skin--throw it away or sell it to the -rag-and-bone man for twopence.” - -“You don’t mean to say you pay that for a hare. Now, here we keep the -skin to sell and throw away the flesh. It’s good enough for hogs. I -never thought of a hare having a price as food. I don’t know that I -could say what was the price of hare’s flesh here. We throw it away.” - -He played with the idea, and then eventually inquired of me whether it -were possible to get an iced freight-truck from Omsk to London, and -what would it cost. - -I could not say. - -“Well,” said Mikhail, “supposing we put a nominal price of two copecks -(a halfpenny) a hare exported from here, we could make a big profit, -and it seems to me they could be got to London, and there would be a -big profit for every one concerned.” - -I promised to give the matter my consideration, and he was so much in -earnest that, despite the fact he had never seen a train and could -neither read nor write, he made me note his address carefully and take -it to England, where I could give it to a _commersant_, and he would -contrive matters. - -“Tell him,” said he, “that we can let him have ten hares for a rouble. -Good night.” - -I was getting ready to lie down. Some overcoats had been spread on the -floor for me. - -“Tell him there’s no end to the number of hares to be had here. Good -night,” said he again. - -And after I had lain down he came to me again and said: - -“Are you comfortable? There was a man here once who made his fortune -exporting _sarka_ skins. Good night.” - -Next morning he gave me a large metal pot of honey and black currants -mixed, as a present, and he drove me to Altaiskaya Stanista, the top of -the Altai, himself. - - - - -XVI - -THE DECLARATION OF WAR - - -It is a fine mountain road from Medvedka to Altaiskaya, over mighty -open upland where the great firs grasp the earth with talon-like -roots. Here and there along the road are Kirghiz tombs enclosed by -rude hurdles, reminding one of the palings of the maral gardens. An -occasional Russian hut, a mountain stream pouring across a road, -forests of stumps, and again forests of those giant firs standing as -against the wind--storm trees, broad at base, needle-pointed at the -apex, every branch a strong son. - -At Altaisky I proposed to stay a few weeks, and then cross the -mountains to the Kosh Agatch road, northward toward Biisk; but -the tidings of war came across my plan here, and farther than the -Altai I did not go. But I had a quiet fortnight in a wonderful -spot--Altaiskaya, opposite Mount Belukha, one of the great snow peaks -that stand on sentry here between China and Siberia, and I walked and -climbed. It would be a splendid place in which to spend a whole summer. -There are places that are so placid and beautiful that you exclaim: -“Good heavens, this is a very paradise!” When you have been there a day -you want to stay there for ever, or to go away and to return and return -again. So it was at little Bobrovo on the Dwina, so again at Altaisky. -I thought to myself I shall come here again and spend six months, and -write a long and interesting story. And I will ask “Pan” to come, and -he also will come and write a wonderful story. “Pan” is an English -friend, a great, tall, gentle, quick-scented human, a dear mortal who -snuffs the air with his nose and can tell you thereby what has happened -in a place any time this three weeks past. - -Altaiskaya was full of the freshness of youth, and the air gave -you wings and its valleys were full of wonderful flowers. I have a -long-acquired habit of associating a certain phrase in the Lord’s -Prayer with the most beautiful thing I have seen during the day, and if -I have seen nothing beautiful, and have been leading a dull life in a -town, my mind goes roving back to certain wondrous sights in the past. -Most frequently of all it goes to the wastes, covered with crimson -poppies, in Russian Central Asia, and occasionally to the verdure and -splendour of the Altai and the delphiniums there, the blue, purple and -yellow monkshood, the China-blue larkspurs, blue and purple larkspurs. -A wonderful place for flowers. Here are sweeps of blue sage, mauve -cranesbills poking everywhere, saffron poppies, grass of Parnassus, -campanula, pink moss flowers and giant thistle-heads, gentian, Siberian -iris. - -Just outside the Cossack settlement it was late summer, and the glossy -peony fruits were turning crimson from green, opening to show rows of -black teeth--seeds. But as you climbed upward toward the snow the -season changed, and it was possible to recover the lost spring. - -The southern side of the mountains seemed to be very bare, but our -side, the northern one, was green. It was comparatively easy to -reach districts where it might be thought no foot of man had ever -trod--primeval moss-grown forest, where were no tracks, no flowers, -nothing but firs and moss. Numberless trees had fallen, and the moss -had grown over them, and, in climbing through, one helped oneself from -tree to tree, balancing and finding a footing. Above this jungle was a -stretch of steep mountain-side sparsely grown with young firs, and then -grey, barren, slippery rock. Wonderful shelves and chasms, fissures, -precipices, and ways up without ways down, boulder-strewn tracks and -founts of bubbling water, milk-white streams, crystal streams. - -I was housed very well with a prosperous Cossack family, and, except -for the fact that there was a terrible monotony in their dinners, had -no reason to complain. Every evening when I returned there was beef -“cutlets,” white scones and butter, a jug of milk, and the samovar. The -whole family was in the fields hay-making all day, and were indisposed -to give time to cooking. - -[Illustration: ALTAISKA _STANITSA_: VIEW OF MOUNT BIELUKHA] - -Most days I spent by the side of a little mountain river, where I -built a sort of causeway out of rocks, diverted the channel, made a -deep bathing-pool--enthralling occupations. Here also I had a bonfire, -made coffee, baked potatoes, cooked red currant jam. Strips of red -currants hung like bunting on some of the bushes, and were so thick -that you could pick a potful in a quarter of an hour. Here also I -sorted out and re-read thirty or forty copies of _The Times_, saved -up for me, with letters, at the post office of Semipalatinsk--all the -details of the political quarrel over Ulster, the resignation of Sir -John French (as he was then called), of Colonel Seely, the vigorous -speeches of Mr. John Ward, the brilliant defences of Mr. Asquith. We -seemed to be running forward silently and smoothly to an exciting -rebellion or civil war in Ireland, and nobody seemed to deplore the -prospect of strife. The Government, nominally in favour of peace at all -costs, were incapable of preventing their opponents obtaining arms, -and were, therefore, allowing their friends to arm. On the whole we -seemed to be tired of the dull blessings of peace, out of patience with -peace. Yet we were not ready for the strife that was coming, though -certainly in a mood to take arms. It is astonishing that with our many -international characters--those diplomatical journalists of ours--we -did not know what was coming, or no one was at pains to undeceive us. -Journalists abroad, even if they are out of touch with Courts and are -uninfluential, have yet much greater opportunities for understanding -international situations than Foreign Offices. Why is it that they -nearly always mislead? In our country a certain glamour overspreads -the personality of the polyglot who writes of foreign Courts and -foreign policies, but as an observer of the Press for many years I can -give it as my opinion that, as a nation, we do not gain much from -the pens of those journalists who run in and out of chancelleries and -are well known at foreign Courts. In any case, as regards those who -dealt specially with Germany, Austria and the Balkans at the time of -the outbreak of war, they were either blind or ignorant, which is -unthinkable, or mixed up somehow in the great German intrigue. - -Silence reigned in Europe, and under cover of that silence what -tremendous preparations were being made, what hurrying to and fro there -was. It is astonishing to look back now to those serene and happy weeks -in the Altai and to feel the contrast of the innocence of Nature and -the devilish conspiracy in the minds of men. If there are devils in -the world, black spirits as opposed to white spirits, what triumph -was theirs, what hidden ecstasy as at the coming triumph of negation. -Behind the screen of this silence horns were blowing announcing the -great feasts of death, the blasting of the temples wherein the spirit -of man dwells, the orgy of ugliness and madness. But being, happily, -untuned to this occult world, we did not hear them. - -[Illustration: MOBILISATION DAY ON THE ALTAI: THE VILLAGE EMPTIED OF -ITS FOLK] - -It was holiday time, the end of July, the Englishman’s great liberation -moment when, even if he goes on working in office or factory, he -ceases to work hard and lazes at his work. His wife and family have -gone to the seaside. He will join them in a week or so. Meanwhile he -is “camping out at home.” The young man is buying stout boots and -greasing them for tramping, is scanning maps and guidebooks, and making -absurd tables of mileage, prospective hotel bills and expenses. The -teachers, with the children, are liberated from the schools, and the -former are gone on Polytechnic tours and what not, whilst the latter -chalk mysterious diagrams on the pavement and play hop-scotch, or play -“Wallflowers, wallflowers, growing up so high,” or “This is the way she -went.” The unfashionable but numerous marriages take place of those -who must make the honeymoon coincide with annual leave, and the happy -couples take Cook’s tickets to Strasburg, to the Tyrol, to Munich. - -And those Russians who _must_ escape their fellow-Russians, and don’t -like the bad drains of their own watering-places, are off to German -baths and Bohemian and Austrian spas. Students are tripping across to -Switzerland. And on all in German territory the guillotine of war is -going to fall. At all the money-changers’ offices at Charing Cross -and in the City you can buy German marks, though there is not much -gold to be had. French gold, English, Russian can be had in almost -any quantities, and Cook’s will sell you German hotel tickets for all -August. - -One lazy July afternoon I sat on the wooden steps leading up to my -veranda and talked with a Cossack on wars in general, what prospects -of war there actually were at that moment; and we concluded that there -might possibly be war with Austria. It was the idlest talk, but the -Cossack lives for a new war, and I did not like to discourage him. He -for his part rather hoped for a nearer war; one with China would suit -him, but he’d thankfully consider a war with Austria if nothing else -were available. - -I went along the exterior street of the village to the little post -office facing the wall of the White Ones, as they call the Altai, and -talked with the postmaster about marals, and he closed the office -to go out and show me where his garden was. Here also were several -_maralniki_, and I found them when clambering up the ridges, and the -deer, seeing me, would scamper away. The village had a butter factory, -and I used to go there and wait during the last stages of production -for a pound of butter, and, sitting on a bucket upside down, chatted -with other villagers. Opposite the cottage where I stayed lived the -priest, and he often came across and talked. The church was the next -building after the priest’s house, and was a beautiful little wooden -temple built by the peasants themselves. I was quickly in the midst -of the life of the settlement, and when the news came I was at once -thought to be the obvious person to apply to for information. On the -30th of July, after a long day on the mountains, I slept serenely on -the overcoats on the floor of my Cossack habitation. Next morning came -the young horseman with the red flag flying from his shoulder, and the -tremendous excitement and clamour of the reception of the _ukase_ to -mobilise for war. As I wrote when I described this in “Russia and the -World,” the Cossacks were not told with whom the war was or would be, -and one of the first surmises that they made was that the war must be -with England--crafty old England, who always stood in Russia’s way and -was siding with the Turks again. Or she was afraid Russia was going to -attack India. - -The real news came at last, and with it the necessity to return to -Europe as soon as possible. The war came across my summer as it came -across the summer of thousands of others, cutting life into two very -distinct parts. At the village of Altaisky I must draw my war line -dividing past and present, one part of life from this other new -astonishing part. The story of my journey has drawn to its close. -Before, however, leaving the subject of Russian Central Asia I would -give the thoughts and reflections that the journey has suggested, and -especially those referring to Anglo-Russian rivalry in empire, the -questions of India and Constantinople, the future of our friendship and -of the two empires. - - - - -APPENDIX I - -RUSSIA AND INDIA AND THE PROSPECTS OF ANGLO-RUSSIAN FRIENDSHIP - - -The prospects of Anglo-Russian friendship are very fair at the -moment of writing, the after-the-war prospects. Generally speaking, -international amity or hostility has heretofore depended on the absence -or presence of clashing interests. Russia does not stand on our road of -Empire, and has never fought us and could never fight us commercially -as Germany has done. Our only doubt about Russia has been as to her -possible designs on India. Fifty years ago there were few Englishmen -who did not entertain expectations of eventual war with Russia, and -after the annexation of Merv, and the running of the Central Asian -Railway thither, Beaconsfield was obliged to assure us that the keys -of India were to be found in London, and consisted in the spirit and -determination of the British people. We felt we were secure because we -could fight Russia and did not fear her. As Lord Curzon wrote in his -book on Russian Central Asia: - - “The day that a Russian army starts forth from Balkh for the passes - of the Hindu Kush, or marches out of the southern gate of Herat _en - route_ for Kandahar, we may say, as Cromwell did at Dunbar: ‘Now - hath the Lord delivered them into my hand.’” - -Our other bond of security lay in the fact that the Russians knew they -could not successfully attack us. Though it must be said now, after -our thwarted efforts against the Turks on Gallipoli and our experience -in Mesopotamia, that it is not clear that we could count on winning a -distant war of invasion. Though we are increasing daily in military -power and sagacity, as a result of fighting the Germans, we are not so -military a nation as we were in the days of the Crimean War. But the -invasion of India by Russia may well be put out of the head once and -for all. No statesman in Russia ever seriously contemplated it, and -in this country those statesmen who thought of it either decried the -idea or used it as a political bogey. As Namirovitch Danchenko said -recently: “From my seventy years’ knowledge of Russian life, I should -say that the people who dreamt about the conquest of India could be -found in Russia only in a mad-house.” No serious steps were ever taken -to thwart Russian imperial policy in Central Asia, and all that fear -has brought about was mistrust and a refusal to enter into partnership -with Russia in certain schemes in Asia. - -The Russians have been ready to trust us for a long time, and they -were anxious for an Anglo-Russian agreement even at the time when -the invasion of India bogey was most in the air here. Probably the -Germans, those persistent enemies of Anglo-Russian friendship, were -responsible for a great deal of subterranean propaganda in England. -Many in England were pro-Russian--Gladstone (though, of course, even -Gladstone asked for a war credit on one occasion of fear of Russia), -Carlyle, Froude, Kinglake--there was a real basis of sympathy. But -the poisoners of the mind of the British people succeeded. What an -interesting glimpse of popular feeling is found in Burnaby’s “Ride to -Khiva” if we read it now. There is a certain poignancy in his remarks. -Consider this passage to-day: - - “Another peculiarity in several Russians which I remarked ... was - their desire to impress upon my mind the great advantage it would be - for England to have a civilised neighbour like Russia on her Indian - frontier; and when I did not take the trouble to dissent from their - views--for it is a waste of breath to argue with Russians about this - question--how eager they were for me to impress their line of thought - upon the circle of people with whom I was most immediately connected. - Of course, the arguments brought forward were based upon purely - philanthropic motives, upon Christianity and civilisation. They said - that the two great Powers ought to go together hand in glove; that - there ought to be railways all through Asia, formed by Anglo-Russian - companies; that Russia and England had every sympathy in common which - should unite them; that they both hated Germany and loved France; - that England and Russia could conquer the world, and so on. - - “It was a line of reasoning delightfully Russian, and though I was - not so rude as to differ from my would-be persuaders, and lent an - attentive ear to all their eloquence, I could not help thinking that - the mutual sympathy between England and Germany is much greater - than that between England and Russia; that the Christian faith - as practised by the lower orders in Russia is pure paganism in - comparison with the Protestant religion which exists in Prussia and - Great Britain; that Germany and Great Britain are natural allies - against Russia ... that Germans and Englishmen understand by the term - ‘Russian civilisation’ something diametrically opposite to what is - attributed to it by those people who form their ideas of Muscovite - progress from the few Russians they meet abroad.” - -Burnaby’s remarks seem pretty foolish in 1916. And his views are -representative of the views of many English in 1875. Prussia, whom he -admires so, had just crushed the French whilst we stood by. The Boer -War had not come. The Kaiser had not sent his telegram to Kruger. Our -military conceit had not been taken out of us; and so, when Russia -offers Britannia the hand of friendship, Britannia round her draws her -cloak and folds her arms. - -But Russia was sincere. She admired the English. She alone of -Continental nations appreciated the spirit of Dickens and our -Victorian novelists. England was still the foolish friend of Turkey, -it is true, but she was not _perfide Albion_. Nor was she simply “Mr. -Cotton,” as Ibsen dismissed us, or “a nation of shopkeepers.” From the -first Russia has had some sort of _flair_ for the English gentleman, -has seen the best thing in our race; and their wish for friendship -with us has been a sentimental matter, not a desire for commercial -partnership, not a bond of sympathy between revolutionary Russia and -our Socialists. The desire for friendship with England dates to before -the emergence of our Socialists as a party in England. It is a genuine -craving for mutual understanding between the real Russia and the real -England. - -Fortunately, that desire on Russia’s part found an answer on this side. -We became friends--we are now brothers-in-arms against a common foe. -If the shedding of blood for a common ideal strengthens friendship, -we should be good friends for this generation at least. Those who -are young now will keep in remembrance the stress of these days, the -sacrifice, the common sadness, the shared triumph. Holy Russia has -become near to us, and, despite all machinations and insinuations, will -remain near. And, with the hope of making things more easy, let me -indicate the points of resistance to Russian friendship still remaining -in our national life. - -I. _India._--A number of our people, chiefly on the Unionist side in -politics, still fear Russian designs on India, and for that reason -deny Russia the right to Constantinople and the Straits, should -she take them. In doing this they unwittingly play the German game, -which is to reserve Constantinople for Germany. There are several -European journalists in the pay of Germany, and among other things -they do for their money is the stirring up of British suspicion about -Constantinople and Russia. The fact is that this is Russia’s legitimate -outlet, her front door, and there can be no settled peace in Europe as -long as it is barred up or liable to be barred. It is also the seat and -capital of the Russian faith, and what in 1876 Dostoieffsky answered to -the question on what high ground Russia demanded Constantinople from -Europe is still true: - - “As the leader of Orthodoxy, as protectress and preserver of - Orthodoxy, the rôle predestined for Russia since the days of Ivan - III. ... that the nations professing Orthodoxy may be unified under - her, that the Slav nations may know that her protection is the - guarantee of their individual personality and the safeguard against - mutual hostility. Such a union would not be for the purpose of - political aggression and tyranny, not a matter of commercial gain. - No, it will be a raising of Christ’s truth, preserved in the East, - a real new raising of Christ’s Cross, and the conclusive word of - Orthodoxy at the head of which will be Russia.... And if anyone holds - that the ‘new word’ which Russia will speak is ‘utopia,’ worthy only - of mockery, then I must be numbered among the Utopians----” - -Still, it must be said that at the present moment Constantinople does -not seem likely to fall as a fruit to the Allies or to Russia, and -unless Bulgaria should turn upon her unnatural allies there is not much -question of St. Sophia becoming Christian again. We ought only to keep -in mind that Russia has striven for Constantinople not to have a base -from which to oppose us, but in order to keep the door of her own house -and to be Queen of the Eastern Church. - -The next point, and where the question of India causes us to be -suspicious, is that of Persia. Here, happily, some understanding has -been obtained and spheres of influence allotted; but our distrust has -stood in the way of the consummation of one of the most interesting -schemes of the century: the trans-Persian railway. If this railway had -been built before the outbreak of this world-war, it would have been -of extraordinary value to the Allies, an effectual means of checking -the inflammation of Islam. There will be little money left when the -war is over, but certainly the overland route to India should be -one of the first big civilising schemes to receive attention. World -railways, instead of little bits of lines, belong to the future of the -Old World, and we can have them now or put it off for another era. It -depends on the faith and imagination of our generation. Then Persia -falls inevitably under European surveillance, and there is no reason -for English and Russians at the outposts of Empire to compete and be -jealous and suspicious and to squabble. - -For the rest, Russian Central Asia raises no further problems. It is a -peaceful, growing Russian colony, shut away from the chances of attack -by foreign Powers--likely to remain for a thousand years one of the -most peaceful places upon earth. Unlike India, it is comparatively -empty and its peoples are decaying. The railways which Russia has -built were built in order to subdue the Tekintsi and the Afghans. The -railways which she is building have in view only the convenience of the -colonists, the development of the colony, and trade with China. Russia -is slow out there, and she is laying the sound foundations of a healthy -and happy colonial country. - -II. _Rivalry of Empire._--Whatever be the direct issue of the war -with Germany, one indirect result seems certain: England will have -more empire, whilst Germany will have less, and Russia will not -lose anything. Two great empires will emerge more clearly, facing -one another because of the dispersal of the German ambition. There -seems to be only one possibility of German extension, and that -lies in the chance of Germans and Austrians turning on their own -allies and absorbing Bulgaria and Turkey. But that chance must be -considered remote to-day. The Russian and the British Empires will -stand facing one another in friendly comparison. The Russian Empire -is self-supporting, it has no need to import the necessities of -life--food, fuel, raiment; whereas we could support ourselves, but -do not, not having reconciled our self-hostile commercial interests. -For many a long day Russia will export for British consumption corn, -butter, eggs, sugar, wool, and wood, to say nothing of other things. -And when at last we succeed in making our own Empire independent, the -Russians will eat their butter themselves and there will be more white -bread on the peasant’s table. It will be no calamity for Russia. - -I was speaking on the future of the Russian Empire at one of our -leading Conservative clubs in London last winter, and I was surprised -to note a very important feeling of opposition toward Russia. Those -who were interested in manufactures wanted the tariff against -British goods reduced, and those who were Imperialist in spirit felt -a certain jealousy and suspicion of the Russian Empire. Several -speakers warned Russia that she had better give up the dream of having -Constantinople--it would be bad for her health if she were to have it. -But the most significant utterance came from an ardent tariff reformer, -who did not know how far love of Russia was compatible with love of -the British Empire, for more Russian grain coming to us meant less -Canadian grain, and so on. If we gave Russia any preferential treatment -as regards her exports to us, we handicapped our own colonies. We ought -to give our colonies preferential terms, but how would the Russians -feel if we asked for reduced tariffs for the import of our manufactured -goods into Russia while at the same time we put a tax on the produce -they sent to us. That problem is a serious one, and it cannot be -doubted that the best policy for us is to make ourselves self-dependent -as an Empire whatever it may cost us in foreign favour. Russia must -not misunderstand our efforts to consolidate the Empire, and I do not -think she will. The diminution in our import of food-stuffs from Russia -will be gradual, and will be made up partially by the increased import -of other things which Russia has in superabundance. Yet even as regards -ores and mineral products we have to learn to be self-supporting. The -war itself, which shuts us off from Russia and throws us upon our own -resources, has sent us to our own colonies. We are beginning to find -in the Empire not only our food, but also the raw materials required -for our products. Take, for instance, the case of asbestos. The only -first-class quality of asbestos in the world comes from the Urals, and -it is a product of great value industrially. During the war it has -been very difficult to get it from Russia. The result has been that we -have found a very good though still inferior quality in Rhodesia, and -may quite conceivably obtain all our best supplies from that colony in -time, the lower grades coming from Canada, which begins to have a great -output. But our tendency to be self-dependent will tend to rid Russia -of many exploiting foreign companies, and for that the Russian people -will be thankful. They want to experience what gifts they have for -doing things for themselves. - -III. _The Trade Treaty._--Russia will be so much in debt to us -financially at the end of the war that there will be a tendency to -regard her as an insolvent liability company possessing valuable -assets. Some of our business men may want to treat her as such and -appoint a trustee, so to say. There is a movement to inflict upon -Russia a trade treaty similar to that, or even more humiliating than -that which Germany called upon her to sign. The bond of friendship with -Russia cannot be a commercial halter round her neck. She would quickly -resent foreign financial control, no matter from what quarter it might -be exercised. Russia will be all but bankrupt after the war, and all -that she will have lost will have been lost for the common cause. We -should be generous to her and see what can be done, not to tie her and -bind her industrially and financially, but for us all. Russia herself -is ready to make a kindly treaty providing us with real advantages over -Germany, but she could not make a treaty whereby arrangements would be -made for the paying off of her financial war debts to her allies. - -IV. _The Basis of Friendship._--The basis of friendship with Russia is -not really trade, and no provision needs to be made to make a trade -basis. We had plenty of trade with Germany or Germany with us, and that -did not make for friendship. On the contrary, the question of trade and -of haggling over money is almost certain in the long run to lead to -estrangement, or, at least, mutual dis-esteem. There has been a growing -trade, but that has not led to the growing friendship. Friendship has -been founded on real mutual admiration. We like the Russians, and -they like us. The positive side of Russia profoundly interests us. Of -course, we are not vitally interested in the negative side, the rotten -conditions of life in certain classes, the faults of Russia, the seamy -side of the picture. We are thoroughly aware of the ugliness of the -negative side of our own life, and we would ask--do not judge us by -that, that is not England. Similarly, in Russia we are interested in -beautiful and wonderful Russia, in Holy Russia, not in unholy Russia. -This positive side is comparatively unrealised here, for gossip and -slander make more noise than truth, but in it is a great treasure both -for Russia and for ourselves in friendship. On the whole the prospects -are good. - - - - -APPENDIX II - -THE RUSSIAN EMPIRE AND THE BRITISH EMPIRE - - -The moment of peace will be the moment of reconsideration. We shall -want to know where we all stand, and we shall want to face the -facts--financially, individually, imperially. We shall want to know -what we have got, what we owe, what sort of empire we have to make -or mar in the succeeding years, what are its resources, what its -possibilities, and ours. One may remark, in passing, what very good -work is being done by the Confederation of the Round Table.[F] The -calculation is exercising many patriotic British minds. First of all be -it remarked, in order to remove misconceptions, we British people are -not by any means the most numerous white people. We have in our Empire -something like 63 million whites, whereas Russia has at least 140 -million, Germany has 65 million, and the United States have 82 million -of mixed race. We compare favourably with the United States because we -are homogeneous and much more calm in soul, and favourably with Germany -because she has no land for expansion, though it must be remembered -that if Austria and Germany should unite, the Germans would have almost -as large a white population as Russia, and certainly a very much more -active one. There remains Russia, with its enormous population and its -astonishingly extensive territory. Russia has ample room for ten times -her present population, and she has it at her back door, as it were. -She has no oceans to cross. The railway goes all the way or can go all -the way from Petrograd to the uttermost ends of her earth. She has also -calm, and can develop without worry. As an empire, compared with ours, -she has tremendous advantages. Her people are not impatient to be rich, -the strain of her race is not confused through foreign immigration, she -is shut off from mongrelising influences, and tends to grow with pure -blood and a clear understanding of her own past and her own destiny. -She has less chance of making mistakes. And, as I have said, her -problems are much simpler. It is not difficult to keep the stream of -colonisation moving into the emptiness of Asia when the railways are so -good as to carry one six thousand miles for thirteen roubles, a little -over a sovereign. - -Our younger politicians have got to decide what they are working -for--trade, or the Empire, or the people, or the individual. They must -affirm a larger policy than has been affirmed heretofore, a world -policy, and they must not scorn the lessons which Germany has taught -them: the necessity to be thorough, to have large conceptions, and -to work for the realisation of these large conceptions rather than -potter about doctoring the little-English constitution here and giving -a little funeral there. We teach our children a very foolish little -proverb: that if we look after the pence the pounds will look after -themselves. That is the opposite of the truth, which is, that if we -look after the pounds we need never worry our heads about the pennies. -If we nationalised our ocean-transit, we should not need to insure our -working men against unemployment. If we scheduled the enormous tracts -of land available for culture in the Empire, we should not need to wage -war with the landowners in Great Britain. - -Our present Colonial Minister, Mr. Bonar Law, has risen to the front -as the political leader of our Conservative and Imperialist party. -He does not seem to love party strife, and he has, perhaps, found a -permanent post at the Colonial Office. He is the next man of importance -after Mr. Joseph Chamberlain, and though by no means so great a man, -he is an admiring follower of the great Imperialist. Whatever we may -think of the merits of Free Trade and Protection, Chamberlain was -undoubtedly right in his larger conception of a unified British Empire, -a _Zollverein_. And the Liberals who opposed him and confused the -issue were merely opportunists. They were not concerned to find what -they could agree with in his proposals. They merely fought him to beat -him and step into his shoes politically. The riff-raff of political -opportunists set on him, and he was forced to shed one of his great -illusions, a trust in the common sense of the people. Mr. Bonar Law is -his successor, and we wish him well. He might well carry his office out -of the arena of party politics and sit at the Colonial Office whatever -wind were blowing. For Imperial Policy must have continuity if it is to -be successful. - -England must hope and pray that Mr. Law has given up mere politics. -We are thoroughly sick of the bad-tempered quarrelling and malicious -fighting of the heads of the parties. Even a first-rate man is -ninth-rate when he is quarrelling, and a quarrel among politicians is -always a quarrel among ninth-rate politicians. Political genius likes -affirmation and agreement. The task of Mr. Bonar Law is to think about -the Empire and gain consciousness of its true destiny; it is not to -think out devices in political antagonism. As a nation we demand he -give his whole time and the cream of his intellect to the positive task -of giving to every citizen of the Empire the consciousness of the large -thing. He will be attacked; curs will bark at him; the Germans and -German Jews will try and stir up the uneducated against him; there will -be all manner of insinuations. But he need never reply or attempt to -defend himself. The nation and the Empire will back him calmly. There -is a splendid Russian tale of a prince climbing a mountain to obtain a -bird, and all the stones behind him shout abuse after him. He is safe -on his quest on this condition only, that he does not turn round and -listen, or draw his sword to attack. If he turn he will change to a -stone himself. The point is, we are going to be more in need of great -men once this war is over than we ever were before--of great men with -big ideas, faith that they can be realised, and that calm of spirit -which is the greatest strength. - -If Mr. Bonar Law is not great enough, or if he’d rather continue in -the political arena, there is another man for the post, and that is -Lord Milner. Lord Milner strikes one as the greater man. The Empire -is his one idea. He thinks largely--his imagination takes him in vast -sweeps over the surface of the Empire. He has dignity, is a powerful -speaker, and a clear thinker on Imperial matters. His weakness is a -certain aloofness or reserve, an ambassadorial manner, and one is not -quite sure what is behind it. Mr. Bonar Law, on the other hand, is -unscreened; he is familiar, even domestic in his manner. Probably what -Mr. Law has to guard against is doing things in small parcels, doing -branch things rather than root things, whereas Lord Milner may give -offence occasionally by a lack of consideration for other people’s -feelings--want of tact, in fact. In any case they are both men on whom -the eyes of the nation rest. Lord Milner has sent me an extremely -interesting letter which had been addressed to him by a number of -British citizens who have become lost to the British Empire. By his -kind permission I reproduce it: - - “_Open Letter to Lord Milner._ - “QUINCY, MASS., U.S.A. - “_Dec. 15th, 1915._ - - “LORD MILNER,--I have read with intense interest the report of your - speech appearing in _The Times_ Weekly Edition of Nov. 19th. You - mentioned the indifference of the working man to Imperial affairs. I - am a working man, and possibly my views on these questions may be of - some small interest to you. When I speak of my views I mean that they - also are the views of other workers with whom I come in contact. I - mix daily with several dozen workers, British born, and I assure you - that the opinions here expressed are the opinions of practically all. - - “We believe that right now a strong committee should be formed to - deal with Imperial reconstruction after the war. This committee - should have a well thought out, clearly defined, and decisive policy - to put in operation the moment the war ends. We believe that not - less than half a million soldiers who have fought in the war should - be settled in Canada, Australasia and U.S. Africa, and that an - appropriation of not less than one billion[G] pounds sterling should - be voted for the purpose. Canada is a land of vast agricultural - possibilities and great mineral wealth. A small group of the best - agricultural and engineering experts in the Empire should be sent - over to make all necessary preparations for the coming of the men. - The exact location or locations where they are to settle should - be defined, lines of branch railways should be surveyed, sites - of model garden cities, cement built, should be located, mining - properties surveyed, and the location of factories and workshops - should be decided upon. Nothing should be left to chance. The gang - ploughs, threshing machines, motor tractors, grain elevators, - etc., should be provided and run on the co-operative principle, and - the entire properties should belong to the nation. If one-half the - energy, foresight, and preparation used in the war were used for the - reconstruction, the scheme is an assured success. - - “There are great irrigation and artesian possibilities in S. Africa. - Preparations should be made _now_. Incidentally the intensely - loyalist stock thus settled would swamp the Hertzog party with their - disruptive ideals. In Australia very great possibilities await - irrigation. I have only to point out what has been done in arid S. - California and Arizona to prove this. - - “The British Empire heretofore has been more or less imaginary; - there has been nothing tangible about it. Take my own case, for - instance. I cite it merely because it illustrates a principle. Seven - years ago I was in Scotland and unemployed. There were a great many - unemployed at the time. Those who had no means were left to starve. - Was anything done for them? Absolutely nothing! All were British, - loved Britain, were able and willing to work, yet no organisation - was created to utilise their services. Personally I came to the - United States. I have done better here than at home; had better pay, - shorter hours, better conditions. What is the British Empire to us? - Absolutely nothing; a mere sentiment. Yet our feelings are British - still, our sympathies are British; but that is not enough. There must - be something tangible to go on, something _real_; sentiment alone is - no use. An Englishman here whom I meet daily is a veteran of the S. - African war. When that war finished he was not allowed to settle in - S. Africa. At home he could not get work. He was driven to want. He - had to pawn his medal to live, and finally was assisted to America. - He has done well here and has been steadily employed. But he has been - embittered, and his sentiment in his own words is: ‘To hell with the - British Empire.’ It is an empty phrase to him, without meaning; and I - tell you, with all the earnestness of which I am capable, that these - things will mean the decline and fall of the Empire if they do not - stop. In the United States there are several million British-born who - are lost to the Empire for ever. Their sentiments are British, their - sympathies are British, but their interests are here, and interest - becomes sentiment. And observe that their children born here have - _sentiment_ as well as interest for the land of their birth. - - “The British Empire is the largest in the world. In natural resources - it is the wealthiest. It could support a population of hundreds of - millions in a high degree of prosperity. The British are an able and - intelligent people. The nation is rich. The problem is to settle the - people throughout the Empire and develop its resources under the - guidance of experts, according to a well thought out and definite - plan. This plan wants to take shape now. If the war were to suddenly - end one year hence, and an army of three million men disbanded, we - would (and will) be faced by industrial chaos. The problem must be - placed in the hands of experts, and be so clearly worked out that - when peace is declared the soldiers will be drafted without fuss to - the various parts of the Empire, and immediately tackle the problems - of city and railway building, agriculture and irrigation, mining and - manufacturing. And these properties must be owned by the nation. - These measures will create a _real_ Empire in which every citizen - will have a tangible interest. Each part will legislate on its own - domestic affairs, and the Imperial Parliament, dealing with Imperial - affairs and representative of all the Dominions, will be held in - London. With such conditions you will find a strong sentiment for - Free Trade within the Empire and Protection without, and also a - strong desire for that universal military training which will defend - what in very truth is one’s own. Start this programme at once, and - do it thoroughly, and you can be absolutely certain of a solid and - enthusiastic backing.--Believe me, yours sincerely, - - “WM. C. ANDERSON.” - -Under Mr. Anderson’s signature appeared the signatures of forty-nine -men, all British subjects once, people of pure race and complete -British traditions, now “lost to the Empire.” The letter was endorsed -thus: - - J. C. COLLINGWOOD, late of Glasgow, Scotland; - A. W. COATES, late of York, England; - JAMES J. BYRNES, late of Dublin, Ireland; - T. GIBBONS, late of Newfoundland; - -and so on, a list far too long to quote here but most impressive in its -implication--“late of Great Britain, now and henceforth of the United -States of America.” - -I will add a letter sent to me from Tasmania, for it will help to give -the atmosphere of the problem: - - “9 GARDEN CRESCENT, - “HOBART, TASMANIA, - “AUSTRALIA. - “_Oct. 3rd, 1915._ - - “DEAR SIR,--I am just being interested in your book, ‘Russia and the - World.’ I read it because I was delighted with your vagabond trip - along the Euxine shores. You deal with the problems of the British - Empire. Perhaps you might like to get a view from ‘down under’? Well, - I do not consider in the matter of defence that a huge land empire - has advantages over a sea empire. Russia is to-day more vulnerable - than the British Empire. Let us suppose the British Isles with a - navy such as it possesses to-day, with a million men ready for home - defence, and with an expeditionary force of 250,000 men--‘ready’ at - an hour’s notice to step into transports also ready. Let us assume - that two-years’ provision of corn is stored, and a tunnel with - France. Let us also assume that every available rood of British - ground is cultivated. What country could invade and conquer the - British Isles? What country could keep up a two-years’ naval war? Let - us come to Australia--grand in her isolation. We shall soon have a - quarter of a million of trained soldiers. We launched a new cruiser - last week, and we are going to build submarines. We can not only - defend ourselves, but we could supply garrisons for India. So far as - external aggression is concerned, South Africa is safe. Canada is - liable to attack from the Americans, and in the course of time will - be attacked. If the British expeditionary army were landed promptly, - and Canada had our plan of compulsory service, the Empire would be - right there. India is safe except from Russia. - - “Have we a weak spot as an Empire? Certainly we have. England for - three parts of a century has allowed herself to be bled to death by - the emigration of her best youth to foreign countries. That ought - to be stopped. There should be an export tax of £20 upon every - emigrant to the United States or other alien country. (Plain talk - about U.S.A.) As to the present ‘colonies’--hateful title--there are - but two British ones within the Empire--Australia and New Zealand. - The others have an undesirable mixture of races. It should be a - portion of the Imperial policy to fill up Canada and South Africa - with British-born people. But such emigration must be upon a system. - Under a proper system we could do with two millions of immigrants - in Australia. Suddenly dumped upon our wharves, 1,000 would be an - inconvenience. Your scheme of cheap ships is admirable. When we - build railways in Australia, and provide water schemes, we do not - consider whether they will ‘pay,’ but whether they will develop the - country and add to the happiness of the people. The best method - of emigration is to dispatch from the United Kingdom every year, - say, 500,000 youths and girls from 15 years of age and upwards. - These would find homes _at low wages_ in settlers’ families in - Canada, South Africa and Australia, and would become acclimatised - and absorbed into the population. This emigration should be a State - scheme and COMPULSORY. But the emigrants should not be made slaves - of. When their indentures ended they should be allowed, if they - wished, to return to England in one of your ships free of charge. I - do not wish to enlarge upon the subject, but the failures of adult - English immigrants who come here are pathetic. They cannot get along, - neither would we get along in England. The immigrant should be - captured young. This is the greatest problem of the Empire: - - “(1) To fill up the Empire with loyal citizens of pure British birth. - - “(2) In the cases of Canada and South Africa, to send large numbers - in order to neutralise the alien elements now existing there. To - stop foreign immigration into British territories, especially German - immigration. - - “Upon the question of naturalisation we have been too easy and - indifferent. A man wishing to be naturalised should make a solemn - application in _propria persona_ before a court. He should be under - the obligation to abjure his foreign nationality and to take a - British name. We have now our directories crowded with foreign names, - which through generations of intermarriages have lost their original - national significance. - - “I note that you compare our culture with that of America. Thanks! No - two countries could be more dissimilar--there is not amongst us the - greed, the wild rush, or the boastfulness of the Americans. We do not - like them. While we are on comparisons, let me remind you that while - you have failed to adjust your Irish question, we have federated - Australia, a task of no small difficulty. While you have been talking - and spilling ink about conscription, we have a system of compulsory - training, both for the army and the navy, in full operation. While - you allow strikes in the midst of war, our difficulties are being - settled by wages boards and arbitration courts. We are not perfect, - but our Press is much superior in tone and culture to yours. It is - painful to read some of your Yankeeised London papers. In literature - we have given you Mrs. Humphry Ward, though to learn new sins we read - the indecent novels which appear to be the chief product of British - fiction. And we have given the world--Melba! - - “As to our share of the war. I walked down-street in Hobart yesterday - to take a ‘billy’--pity your simplicity if you do not know what that - is--to the City Hall. It was filled with all sorts of good things for - our boys at Gallipoli for Christmas. Outside the newspaper office I - read the cable, another ghastly list of Australian casualties. Were - they necessary? Could not the Turks have been outflanked and their - communications cut? When I reached home my wife and her friend - were knitting socks for the soldiers. The lady friend mentioned, be - it correct or not, that a ship that declined to carry troops--the - _Wimmera_, New Zealand to Melbourne--was taken possession of and - forced to take the men. The streets are full of soldiers ready to - sail, and, alas, with many returned from the war crippled for life. - And such splendid young men. What an improved edition of the British - race the Australians are! - - “Enough from stranger to stranger, but as your book seems to indicate - gleams of intelligence on your part, and as it interested me, I - am humbly--as a native-born Australian now close approaching the - Psalmist’s limit--endeavouring to repay the compliment.--Yours truly, - - “WILLIAM CROOKE.” - -And Mr. Crooke enclosed a poem on the launching of H.M.S. _Brisbane_ at -the naval dockyard at Cockatoo Island: - - Another link in the steel-strong chain which holds us heart to heart, - Another pledge to the old, old vow which swears we’ll never part; - While life doth last and love doth last we’ll give thee of our own-- - Dear Motherland, accept this gift we lay before thy throne. - - Forged in the heat of a southern sun, framed ’neath an Austral sky, - Worthy indeed this ship shall be to float thy flag on high. - Fanned by the breath of a South Sea breeze, kissed by the foam-flecked - spray, - Did ever a child of War awake as this one wakes to-day? - - We bargain not in windy words, and not in idle boast, - We speed her sliding down the slip, and make her name a toast. - Remember ye that gaunt, grey wreck on Cocos’ barren rocks [_Emden_], - Where seagulls pick the whitened bones around the old sea-fox. - - Another link in the steel-strong chain which holds us heart to heart, - Another hound slipped from the leash to play a winning part; - Her flag is broken to the wind, her steel has met the sea-- - Dear Motherland, accept the gift we give this day to thee. - -The letters indicate something of the spirit of our people, and they -more than touch on the “after-the-war” problems of the Empire. Both -indicate the way we lose our citizens to the United States of America. -And it is, of course, loss to the Empire whenever an Englishman settles -in the U.S.A. Our social interchange with the United States is a snare -for us. The gleam of their dollars is the Star-spangled Banner, and -not the Union Jack. We do not see that, although the Americans speak a -recognisable dialect of our language, they are a foreign people, with -their own national interests. When a man or woman goes there to settle -he is lost to us, and if in the great unrest after the war a great -number of our young people set sail for “God’s own country,” it will -mean that we can add the numbers of those young people to the total of -our casualties. That is clear. - -Then we cannot afford to imitate the ways of the U.S.A. The U.S.A. -receive the discontented and rebellious of all nations in Europe--it -is Europe’s safety-valve. Our Irish go there, German anti-militarists, -Russian Jews and Finns, Austrian Slavs and what not. The nature of the -United States is composite and its task is synthesis. The nature of our -Empire is elementary and its task is to keep pure. Canada has made a -mistake in opening its doors to aliens, and especially to those aliens -who would stand a poor chance of passing the tests at Ellis Island. -Canada behaves as if it were left behind in the struggle by America, -as if she had been asleep in the past and was now making up for lost -ground by any and every means. She is virtually accepting those aliens -whom the U.S.A. consider not good enough to take. Through the help of -Tolstoy and the Quakers the Dukhobors were dumped down on Canadian -soil. They have refused to become naturalised British subjects, and -have sacrificed estates to the value of over three million dollars--“in -the name of the equality of all people upon earth we would not be -naturalised, and we sacrificed this material fortune.” They learn no -English, conform to no English rules, nourish no English sentiments, -are lost to Russia, and are no use to us. The same may be said of the -hundreds of thousands of other aliens we are letting in. It should be -obvious that to lose British-born citizens, our own spirit, flesh and -blood, in the United States, and at the same time to take those aliens -who cannot pass the doctor and the immigration examination at New -York, is a woeful and even ridiculous circumstance. - -After the war America will be extremely rich and we extremely poor. -She will be in a position to buy everything that is offered for sale. -We must take care not to offer birthrights in any shape or form. That -which we can legitimately sell let us sell, but that which is in the -nature of an heirloom of the British people let us not be tempted -to sell, no matter how high the mountain of dollars be piled on the -American shore or how dazzlingly it may shine in the sunshine. I say -this with no malice against the American people. They are a splendid -people, and they are working out their own ideals. They are carrying -out their ideals of town-planning, marriage-planning, slum-raising, -park-planting, wages-raising beyond anything we dream of here. When I -wrote in my book on America that we British were the dying West whereas -America was the truly living West, I was taken up by British critics -as if I had said something very disparaging about my own people. That -was a mistake. I do not desire to see my own people a Western people, -such as the Americans are, but rather a nation seated between the East -and the West. Some of us fondly think ourselves Western in our ideals, -but the fact is the Americans have left us far behind, and we can never -catch up because we do not really believe in these ideals. But we can -gain immensely by seeing America _go ahead_. Let us shake hands with -America; she is splendid. God speed! Go on, work out your ideals, let -us see you as you wish to be. Meanwhile we will go on with our own -problems and the realisation of our own ideals. - -With America on the West then also with Russia on the East--shake -hands! Thanks to Russia, and God be with her also. Let her realise her -ideals and discover what she is; we shall learn from the spectacle of -her self-realisation. And meanwhile we will go on with our own problems -and the realisation of our own ideals. - -We who write about foreign countries are the torch-bearers to foreign -progress and the means of foreign friendship. We render good service, -and if our light shine well and show clear pictures it is unfair to -reproach us with a wish to Russianise or Americanise or whatever it -is. Our function is a legitimate one, and, far from confusing or -alienating our readers, our hearts are actually with our own nation and -we help our fellow-countrymen to see themselves as quite distinctive. -Our minds certainly are confused by the writings and sayings of -those stay-at-home folk who imagine that difference of nationality -is only difference of speech and customs, and perhaps of dress, not -understanding that first of all it is difference of soul and difference -in destiny. - -To return to the comparison of the two Empires and the consideration -of the colonial letters, Mr. Anderson asks for an Imperial Commission -to consider the “after-the-war” problems, and in conversation with Mr. -Bonar Law I learn that such a Commission is to sit, and there is the -possibility of an Imperial Parliament being formed. This ought to be -taken up warmly by our people at home. I also discussed with Mr. Law -the prospects of emigration after the war. There is a great unrest in -the Army. Great numbers of men have one common opinion that they are -not going to return to the old dull grind in factory and office after -the war is over. They are going in for an open-air life, going to -Canada, going to Australia, or going to take up land at home in Great -Britain. The Canadians and Australians have served their home lands -well by telling the men at home what it is like in the far parts of -the Empire. Our men have a genuine admiration for the physique of our -Colonials. The fine bodies and good spirits of these men speak for -themselves, and then they are full of talk of a rich country, beautiful -Nature, wildness, big chances, prosperity. It is no wonder that the -Englishman wants to go there also when the war is over. There will -be a great readiness to go. The question is what facilities will be -given them to go? How much will it cost and how much land will they be -given, and what status will they have within the Empire? Mr. Law was -not inclined to give much answer to that, and he reminded me that we -wanted to get some more men back to the land in our own country. The -back-to-the-land movement here is, however, of little importance if we -are going to look upon the whole Empire as a British unity and feel -that a man on the land in Australia can be of more significance than a -man on the land in Essex. - -I asked Mr. Bonar Law whether he thought that our manufacturers here -would be dismayed at the prospect of so many young men going to the -Colonies, would they not oppose facilities being given? Would they not -feel that it was necessary to keep the labour market overflowing with -labour in order to keep labour cheap? In any case, would they not feel -they needed to keep the men in England? The foundation of personal -wealth is a plenitude of labour. The more hands employed, the richer -the man at the top. Mr. Law did not think they were likely to raise -objections. - -The overcrowding in the United Kingdom is much greater than in France -or Germany or Italy. India is also terribly over-crowded, but Canada -and Australia and South Africa are practically empty. The only nation -that occupies the correct amount of land proportional to its population -is China. Russia has double the territory of China, and something -like a third of the total population. And, thanks to cheap railway -fares, the Russian population spreads quietly and naturally. After the -war we must nationalise a steamship service for the use of British -subjects only, and make it possible to travel anywhere in the Empire -for a pound or so, paying for food according to a normal tariff. We -must give emigrants privileges in our own Colonies that they would not -obtain in the United States. We must set up big Imperial works, and -spend time and money in development. We must not relax our rule of the -seas, but go on building an ever better, ever more efficient Navy, and -not underman it. We must live even more on the sea than we have done -in the past, for the seas are our high roads, the connecting links of -Empire. We must get out of the foolish habit of thinking of Canada -and Australia and South Africa as terribly far away. It is a little -world, and there is scarcely a far-away in it. We have to give to our -working men, and to their children in the schools, the consciousness of -belonging to a big and glorious thing rather than the consciousness of -belonging to a little State that is almost played out. Let us think of -Russia with her bigness, her space, her consciousness of unity, and of -the large thing, and remember we have all the possibilities of health -and splendour that the Russians have if we will only face our problems -and do the things which are obvious to all except to those who fight in -the political arena for fighting’s sake. - -To recapitulate: - -(1) Russia has at least double the white population in her Empire -that we have in ours. Why should we not take steps to transplant from -over-crowded Britain to the less crowded parts of the Empire, and so -get better families? - -(2) The Russian Empire is all on land, and is easily strung together by -railways, whereas our Empire is across seas. Fares within the Russian -Empire are cheap. Why should we not popularise our ocean travel and -have cheap fares on the seas? - -(3) Russia, through certain natural advantages, keeps her race pure, -even on the outskirts of Empire. Why should we let our own people go -to the United States, and try to fill up our Colonies with aliens -who, in time of war, are ready to blow up Parliament buildings, powder -factories, plot assassinations, and what not? - -(4) Russia is self-supporting in food, fuel, and clothing. Why should -not we be? - -(5) The Duma is elected by the people not only of Russia in Europe, -but by the people of the whole Russian Empire. Why should not we have -Imperial representatives in the House of Commons--one man one vote for -all white British citizens. - -(6) The Russian Empire is a large unity with a growing consciousness -of its own power. Why should not the British Empire realise similar -possibilities of unity and self-expression? - -[Illustration: RUSSIAN CENTRAL ASIA. - -MAP SHEWING TRAVELLER’S ROUTE.] - -[Illustration] - - - - -Index - - - A - - Abakum, Pass and Gorge of, 185, 186-7; - advertisements in, 187 - - Africa taken by Attila, 48 - - Agriculturists, emigration of, 138 - - Alabaster Mosque, Cairo, 40 - - Alai Tau Mountains, 90 - - Alakul, Lake, 149 - - Alani, the, 47 - - Alexander of Macedon, 56 - - Alexander the Great, 44 - - Alexandrovsky Mountains, 90 - - Altai, Central, 218 _et seq._ - - Altai, flora of, 229 - - Altai Mountains, the, 8 - - Altaiskaya, 220, 228, 229 - - Altin-Emel, Government aid to emigrants, 150; - the cross-roads for China, 173, 174 - - America--after the war, 265 - - Amu-Darya, 24 - - Anderson, Wm. C., an open letter to Lord Milner, 253-7 - - Anglo-Russian friendship, prospects of, 237 _et seq._ - - Antonovka, 94 - - Ants, ravages of, 129-130 - - Apples, the City of. (_See_ Verney) - - Arabs and Semitic tribes, conquests of, 49 - - Arazan, dinner at, 184 - - Arbitration courts, 261 - - Arizona, 255 - - Artisans, emigration of, 140 - - Asbestos, the question of supply of, 246 - - Ascension Day, the Russian, 99 - - Asia, a former frontier of, 6; - the deserts of, 17, 18 - - Askhabad, the railway station, 22; - fall of, 65; - extension of Central Asian Railway to, 68 - - Astrakhan, fall of, 64 - - Attila, Huns of, 48; - conquests of, 48 - - Aulie Ata, captured by Russians, 64; - a mysterious city, 101; - a former Moslem shrine, 104; - the native orchestra, 106; - its cathedral, 113; - sheep as payment, 114; - frequency of earthquakes in, 114; - population of, 123 - - Australia, irrigation possibilities in, 255; - railway system of, 259; - military service compulsory in, 259, 261; - federation of, 261; - the Press of, 261 - - - B - - Bactrain labourers, 19 - - Baku, 10; - the bazaar, 11; - the harbour, 12 - - Balkan war: the St. James’s Conference, 213 - - Balkans, the, 18 - - Balkhash, Lake, 149, 203 - - Balta, 3 - - Baltic, islands of, conquered by Attila, 48 - - Barber, a Sart, 181 - - Barber-photographer, a, 97 - - Baskau, River, 189 - - Beaconsfield, Lord, and the “keys of India,” 237 - - Belukha, Mount, 228 - - Bibi Khanum, wife of Tamerlane the Great, 51 - - Bielovodsk, 122 - - Blagoveshtchensk, Siberians _versus_ Chinese, 171 - - Bobrovo, 229 - - Bokhara, Ancient and New, 27 - - Bokhara, Russian Protectorate of, 25, 66; - absence of hotels in, 27; - scenes in, 27; - a Mohammedan settlement in, 27; - houses, shops, and bazaars of, 28; - its silver coinage, 29; - the sacred stork of, 31; - Russia’s hold on, 32; - power of Mohammedanism in, 35 _et seq._; - Uzbeks in, 63; - the Central Asian Railway and, 69 - - Bokharese, the, 31-2; - and the battle of Irdzhar, 65 - - Bokharese delight, 29 - - Boxer insurrection, the, 171 - - Bozhe-Narimsky, 218, 220 - - _Brisbane_, the, a poem on launch of, 262-3 - - British Empire, the, necessity for consolidation of, 245-6; - white population in, 249, 269; - after-the-war problems, 249 _et seq._; - and the Russian Empire, 249-270; - expert development of resources necessary, 256; - a Tasmanian view of future problems of, 258-262 - - British Isles, the, after the war, 265 - - Buddhism, attempted introduction of, into Central Asia, 49 - - Bulgaria, alienation of, by Britain, 213 - - Burnaby’s “Ride to Khiva,” 239 - - - C - - Cabbage pies, 8 - - Cairo, 40 - - California, 255 - - Camel-breeding, Kirghiz women and, 219 - - Canada, comparison with Siberia, 208-9; - suggested after-the-war measures for, 254; - aliens in, 264 - - Carlyle, Thomas: “Heroes and Hero-Worship,” 37-9; - his pro-Russian proclivities, 239 - - Carpet-making in Transcaspia, 33 - - Caspian Sea, the, 10 - - Caucasians, author’s impression of, 5 - - Caucasus, the, future development of, 5 - - Central Asia, ethnology and, 44; - races of, 44 _et seq._; - Chinese attempt the introduction of Buddhism, 49 - - Central Asian Railway, building of, 66, 68, 69; - consecration of, 69 - - _Cervus canadensis asiaticus._ (_See_ Maral) - - Chamberlain, Rt. Hon. Joseph, 251 - - _Charchafs_, 26, 28 - - Chardzhui, 25; - extension of Central Asian Railway to, 69 - - Cheesecakes, sweet, 8 - - Cherkask, 197 - - Chimkent, Russian capture of, 64; - the cinema at, 86; - the bazaar, 87; - population of, 123 - - China attacked by the Huns, 45-6; - the Great Wall of, 46; - Russians in, 70; - the Boxer insurrection, 171; - land proportional to population in, 268 - - Chinatown, New York, 26 - - Chinawomen and maral horn, 220 - - Chinese, altruistic, 176, 182; - a native circus, 176 _et seq._ - - Chinese Tartary, 8; - Mohammedans, 36, 164 - - Chingildinsky, 165 - - Chingiz Khan, 49-50 - - Christianity _versus_ Mohammedanism, 37 _et seq._ - - Chugachak, 182 - - Churek-cakes, 29 - - Cinema theatres, popularity of, 61, 86, 104, 159, 211 - - Colonial preference, question of, 245 - - Colonials, British admiration for, 267 - - “Commonwealth, Prospect of a,” 249 (note) - - Confederation of the Round Table, the, 249 - - Constantinople, Germany and, 242; - Dostoieffsky on, 242; - and the Great War, 243 - - Constantinovka, 132 - - Cornucula, 95 - - Cotton goods, 206-7 - - Crooke, William, letter to author, 258-262 - - Curzon, Earl, 237 - - - D - - Danchenko, Namirovitch, on Russian conquest of India, 238 - - Dariel, Gorge of, 5; - the “Kremlin” of, 7 - - De Vesselitsky, M., 208 - - Deer-farming, 219 _et seq._ - - Dengil-Tepe taken by Kuropatkin, 65 - - Denmark, conquest of, by Attila, 48 - - _Derevnyi_, 122 - - Desert, the, railways in, 17; - wheatfields in, 19, 20; - antiquity of, 20; - its flora, 20 - - Dockers, Persian, 12 - - Dolinadalin, 3 - - Dostoieffsky, Fedor, 210; - on Russia’s demand for Constantinople, 242 - - Dukhobors in Canada, 264 - - Duncani, the, 36 - - _Dunkan_, a, 120 - - - E - - Earthquakes, frequency of, 57, 114, 156 - - Egypt, the shepherd dynasty of, 44 - - Electricity, a Caucasian contract for, 4 - - Emigrants, house-building by, 153-4; - a suggested export tax on, 259 - - Emigration, compulsory, 260 - - Emigration, Russian, 138 _et seq._; - inducements for, 141; - restrictions concerning, 142; - concessions on rail and steamer, 144 _et seq._ - - England and India, 241 - - England and Russia: the question of India, 241-4; - rivalry of empire, 244-6; - the trade treaty, 246-7; - the basis of friendship, 247-8 - - English, uneasiness of, at Russian progress, 66, 245 - - Ethnology and Central Asia, 44 - - Europe, after-the-war prospects of, 249 _et seq._ - - - F - - Factory hands, emigration of, 140 - - _Falanga_, hairy-legged, 116 - - Falconry, the Kirghiz knowledge of, 200 - - Falcons in Bokhara, 29 - - Fatalism, Mohammedanism and, 42 - - Ferghan, grants in aid of emigration to, 152 - - Flint-hunting in the Caucasus, 5, 6 - - Fortoug, 3 - - Froude as pro-Russian, 239 - - - G - - Gavrilovka, 175 - - Geok-Tepe, 21; - the railway station of, 21; - storming of, 68 - - Georgians, 4, 16 - - Germany, conquered by Attila, 48; - preparations for Great War in, 214; - an enemy of Anglo-Russian friendship, 239; - and Constantinople, 242; - white population in, 249 - - _Gimnasistki_, 214 - - Gladstone, Right Hon, W. E., a pro-Russian, 239 - - Goths, the, 47, 48 - - Great War, the, Germany’s ambitions, 67; - reception of news of declaration of war at Semipalatinsk, 213; - Germany’s preparations for, 214; - England’s unpreparedness for, 231 - - Gregoriefsky, 197 - - Grosnoe, 99 - - Grozdny, 10 - - Gusinaya Pristan, 216 - - - H - - Hassan, Sultan, Mosque of, 40 - - Havana cigars in Kopal, 182 - - Huns, the, 45, 46 _et seq._; - of Attila, 48; - Mongolian, 49 - - _Hydrotechnics_, Russian, 190, 193 _et seq._ - - - I - - Ikons, Russian, 10 - - Ili, River, 149, 164 - - Ili, valley of the, 162 - - Iliisk, 163 - - Imperial commission for after-the-war problems, an, 266 - - Ince-Agatch, 204 - - India and Russia, 237 _et seq._; - Namirovitch Danchenko on Russian conquest of, 238; - fear of Russian designs on, by British politicians, 241-2; - the overland route to, 243; - overcrowding in, 268 - - Indian frontier, the, 8 - - Indians, the, 44 - - Irdzhar, battle of, 65 - - Irrigation, artificial, in the desert, 20; - engineering students, 190, 193 _et seq._ - - Irtish River, 211 _et seq._ - - Issik-Kul, Lake, 149 - - - J - - Jaiman Terekti, 189 - - Jangiz-Agatch, 175 - - Jarasai, 160 - - Jarkent, a jurisdiction of Seven Rivers Province, 148; - rice-growing in, 149; - Government aid to emigrants to, 150 - - Jerakhof, Gorge of, 3 - - “Jericho, trumpets of,” 106 - - - K - - Kabul Sai, 74 - - Kalmeeks, the, 46, 221 - - Karabulak, 175 - - Karachok, 168 - - Karakirghiz, the, 63 - - Kara-Kum, desert of, 24 - - _Karakurt_, the, 116, 162 - - Karasbi, 160 - - Katun-Karagai, 220 - - Kaufmann, General von, 62 - - Kazan, fall of, 64 - - Kazanskaya Bogoroditsa, 132 - - Kazbek mountain and Prometheus, 7 - - _Khalati_, 19 - - _Khodoki_, 124, 136, 137, 142, 143, 144, 152 - - Khodzkent captured by Russians, 65 - - _Khosaïn Tereka_, 4 - - Khiva, 44; - Uzbeks in, 63; - under Russian protection, 66 - - Kief, University of, student life at, 125 - - Kinglake: his pro-Russian sympathies, 239 - - Kirghiz, the, 19, 45, 46, 74 _et seq._, 116, 221; - become Russian subjects, 65; - their system of _pecunia_, 114; - skill at falconry, 200; - relieved of military service, 208 - - Kirghiz Cossacks, the, 63-4; - women, description of, 83-4; - wedding, 168; - banquet, 191, 192; - women and camel-breeding, 219 - - Kizil Arvat, 68 - - Kok-sa River, 175 - - Kokand, 63; - Uzbeks of, defeated by Russians, 64 - - Kopal, population of, 123; - a jurisdiction of Seven Rivers Province, 148; - a walk to, 173; - author’s arrival at, 175; - a quaint clock at, 176; - visit to a Chinese circus, 176-181; - altruistic Chinamen, 182; - boundary of, 182; - facilities to sportsmen, 182 - - Koran, the, Carlyle and, 41 - - Kosh Agatch, 218 - - _Kosuli_, 116 - - Koumis, 80, 81, 86, 199 - - Krasnovodsk, 10, 15 _et seq._; - a Georgian host in, 16; - siege of, 65 - - Kruglenkoe, 174 - - Kuan-Kuza, 172, 173 - - Kugalinskaya, 174 - - Kugalinskaya Stanitsa, 174 - - Kurdai, 132 - - Kuropatkin, Colonel, 65 - - _Kursistki_, 214 - - - L - - Labour question in England, the, 268 - - Larse, a night at an inn, 4-5 - - Lava-Khedei, mosque of, 34 - - Law, Mr. Bonar, 251-3, 266, 267, 268 - - Lepers, 129 - - _Lepeshki_, 19, 29, 130 - - Lepsa, the, 203 - - Lepsinsk, 148, 186, 188, 192; - “removal” of, 193; - the information bureau, 194; - a Cossack settlement, 196 - - Lermontof’s “Demon”: scene of story of, 6 - - _Lessovaya zemlya_, the, 20 - - Liamin, M., 165-172 - - Lignitz, battle of, 50 - - Linbovinskaya, 132, 133 - - Lodz: its production of shoddy cotton, 206 - - “Lodzinsky,” definition of, 206 - - _Ludzon_, 225 - - - M - - Mahomet, birth of, 49 - - Malo-Krasnoyarsk, 218 - - Maly Narimsky, 220 - - Mankent, 92 - - Maral, the country of the, 218 _et seq._ - - Maral deer horns, 219 _et seq._ - - _Maralnik_, cost of construction of a, 223 - - Mare’s milk. (_See_ Koumis) - - Marlowe on Tamerlane the Great, 52 - - Mecca, Mohammedan pilgrimages to, 36 - - Medvedka, 220; - a maral farm at, 222 - - Melba, Madame, 261 - - Merke, 117 - - Merv, fall of, 66; - Central Asian Railway extended to, 69; - annexation of, England’s attitude on, 237 - - Mesopotamia, a holy war in, 67 - - “Midsummer Night among the tent-dwellers,” 184 _et seq._ - - Milner, Lord, 253; - an open letter to, 253-7 - - Mogul. (_See_ Mongol) - - Mohammedanism and Mohammedan cities, 35 _et seq._; - Mecca pilgrimages, 36; - Cairo, 40; - the Koran, 41; - fatalism and, 42; - characteristics of, 42-3; - birth of Mahomet, 49. - (_See also_ Bokhara) - - Mongolia, Russians in, 70 - - Mongolian brick tea, 198; - Huns, 49 - - Mongols, the, 47 - - Moslem pilgrimages to Mecca, 36 - - - N - - Narimsky Mountains, 218 - - Naturalisation, the question of, 260 - - Navy, the, necessity for increasing, 268 - - Nazimof, M., 126 _et seq._ - - Nevsky, Alexander, 63 - - Nikanorovitch, Mikhail, 223 _et seq._ - - Nikolaevski, 160 - - Nomadic tribes, 44 _et seq._ - - North Caucasian oilfields, 10 - - Northern Persia, Russians in, 70 - - Novy Troitsky, 122 - - - O - - Oil region of the Caucasus, 10 - - Orenburg falls into Russian hands, 65 - - Osmanli, the, 46 - - Ossetines, 4, 5, 6, 47 - - Oxus, the, 24; - a State service of steamers on, 69 - - - P - - Pamir, 8, 63; - grants to emigrants, 152 - - Passports, 15, 32 - - Pavlovska, Zoe, a pilgrimage to tomb of Bibi Khanum, 53-4 - - Paynim, the, 37 - - _Pecunia_, 114 - - Pekin, siege of, 50 - - Persia, roses in, 20 _et seq._; - its future, 243 - - Persian dockers, 12 - - Persians, the, 44, 45 - - Petrovsk, 10 - - Photographs and free shaves, 97 - - Pigs’ liver, black, 4 - - Pishpek, fall of, 64; - population of, 123; - a meeting with a Government topographer, 126; - climate of, 128; - skin disease in, 129; - a jurisdiction of the Seven Rivers Province, 148; - Government grants for emigrants, 150 - - Police, Russian, 177 - - Polovinka, 174 - - Porters, Russian, 11, 12 - - _Proletkas_, 27 - - Prometheus, legend of, 7 - - Przhevalsk, 148 - - - R - - Railway concessions and fares for emigrants, 144 _et seq._ - - Railways, Russian, 17, 18, 56, 68 _et seq._, 244, 250, 268; - scenes at stations, 19, 20; - British distrust of Trans-Persian Railway, 243 - - Rice-growing, 149 - - “Ride to Khiva,” Burnaby’s, 239 - - River charges for emigrants, 147 - - Romanovskaya, 203 - - Rome burned by the Goths, 48; - sacked by the Vandals, 48 - - Roses, Persian, 20 _et seq._ - - “Round Table,” the, 249 (note) - - Russia, English entente with, 8; - railway systems of, 17, 18, 56, 68 _et seq._, 244, 250, 268; - conquered by Attila, 48; - rise of, 64 _et seq._; - colonisation of, 66 _et seq._, 70 _et seq._; - powers of chief of police in, 177; - mobilisation of, 234; - her possible designs on India, 237; - future of her empire, 244 _et seq._; - exports of, 244-5; - the question of a trade treaty, 247; - the white population in, 249, 269 - - Russia and England: the question of India, 241-4; - rivalry of Empire, 244-6; - the trade treaty, 246-7; - the basis of friendship, 247-8 - - Russia and India, and prospects of Anglo-Russian friendship, 237 - _et seq._ - - Russian card games, 195; - colonies: provinces open to colonisation, 138; - information to intending colonists, 138; - colonisation, 155; - exports: the Tariff Reform view of, 245 - - Russian Central Asia, capital of, 57 _et seq._; - commercial travellers in, 123-4 - - Russian Empire, the, and the British Empire, 249-70 - - Russian Turkestan, Uzbeks in, 63 - - - S - - St. James’s Conference, the, 213 - - Salt steppes, the, 10, 15, 17 - - Samarkand, the grave of Timour, 44; - conquest of, 50; - an impressionist poem on, 53; - a Mohammedan centre, 55; - foundation of, 56; - Russian occupation of, 65; - and the Central Asian Railway, 69; - Government inducements to emigrants, 152 - - San Francisco, a Chinese underground city in, 171 - - Sandbanks, 18 - - Saracens, the, 47 - - Sarajevo tragedy, the, 212 - - Sarts, the, 26; - in Samarkand, 56; - natives of Tashkent, 59-60; - their orchestra: music from 10-ft. horns, 106 - - Scandinavia, Attila’s conquest of, 48 - - Scythia, 45 - - Semipalatinsk, 207; - Dostoieffsky in exile at, 210; - shops of, 210-211; - and the Sarajevo tragedy, 212-213 - - Semiretchenskaya Oblast. (_See_ Seven Rivers Land) - - Semi-retchie, Northern, plain of, 186 - - Semitic tribes, with Arabs, conquer Persia, etc., 49 - - Serbia and the assassination of the Archduke of Austria, 212-213 - - Sergiopol, population of, 123; - shops of, 205; - a commercial traveller’s experiences in, 205-6 - - Seven Rivers Land, Russian penetration and occupation of, 64, 116, - 148; - fauna of, 116; - its troika, 117 _et seq._; - climate of, 149; - Government grants to emigrants, 141,150; - taxes, 151; - military service, 151; - timber, 151; - cinema shows in, 159; - the Pass and Gorge of Abakum, 185, 186-7 - - Shakespeare’s burlesque on Tamerlane the Great, 52 - - _Shashleek_, 105 - - Shaving extraordinary, 181-2 - - Sheep as payment for goods purchased, 114 - - Siberia, value of land in, 141; - an old-established Russian colony, 207; - compared with Canada, 208-9; - population of, 209 - - Sirdaria, deserts of, 8; - author at, 74; - a Kirghiz settlement at, 75 _et seq._; - Government grants to emigrants, 152 - - Skobelef, General, reduces Geok-Tepe, 21; - in Transcaspia, 65 - - _Skobelef_, the, 13 - - South Africa, irrigation possibilities in, 255 - - Southern Siberia, steppes of, 8 - - Spider, black, 116, 162 - - _Stantsi_, 122 - - Steamship service, a national, 268 - - Stewart, Mr., “Boss of the Terek,” 4 - - Storks in Bokhara, 31 - - Strikes in war time, 261 - - Suffragettes, Russian opinion of, 195 - - - T - - Table Mountain, 3 - - Tadzhiks, the, 44 - - Talass, River, 113, 115 - - Tamara, 6 - - Tamara, Queen, castle of, 6 - - Tamerlane the Great, his conquests for Mohammedanism, 50; - Emperor of Asia, 51, 63; - Marlowe on, 52; - conquest of India and Eastern Russia, 52 - - Tariff reform and Russian exports, 245 - - Tartars, enemies to Christians, 37; - rising of the, 49 - - Tashkent, 57 _et seq._; - water-supply of, 57-8; - muezzin towers of, 59; - an exiled Grand Duke at, 60; - schools, 60-1; - cinema shows at, 61; - Russian atmosphere of, 61-2; - Kaufmann Square, 62; - taken by Russians, 64 - - Tea, Russian and Indian, 158 - - Tea dust, solidified, 198 - - Tekintsi, the, headgear of, 19; - a great fortress of, 21 - - Terek, River, 3 - - Terek, the “Boss” of, 4 - - Thian Shan Mountains, 162 - - Timour the Lame. (_See_ Tamerlane the Great) - - Tokmak, fall of, 64 - - Tolstoy, 264 - - Transcaspia becomes a Russian province, 65 - - Trans-Ilian Alai Tau Mountains, 90 - - Trans-Persian Railway, the, 243 - - Tribes, mediæval history of, 44 _et seq._ - - Triple Entente, the, 8 - - _Troika_, the Russian, 117 _et seq._ - - Tsaritsinskaya, 175 - - Tulovka, 220 - - Turkestan, cosmopolitan, 22; - four great cities of, 44; - value of land in, 141; - restrictions as to emigration, 142; - demand for labour in, 152; - grants in aid, 152 - - Turkish tribes, the chief, 46 - - Turkomans, dress of, 19; - one of the chief Turkish tribes, 46 - - Turks, the, 46 - - - U - - United Kingdom, the, overcrowding in, 268 - - United States, the, mixed races in, 249, 264; - loss of British citizens to, 263 _et seq._ - - Ust-Kamennygorsk, 214 - - Uzbeks, the, 46; - in Bokhara, Khiva, and Russian Turkestan, 63 - - - V - - Valens, Emperor, 47 - - Vandals, the, 48 - - _Vatrushki_, 8 - - Verney, fall of, 64; - population of, 123; - a jurisdiction of the Seven Rivers Province, 148; - rice-growing at, 149; - Government grants, 150; - capital of Seven Rivers, 156; - its apples, 156; - the High School, 157; - German sausages in, 158; - newspaper record of cinema shows, 158-9 - - Visokoe, 99 - - Vladikavkaz, the military road of, 2, 4 - - Vodka in Russian Central Asia, 86 - - Vsevolodovitch Yaroslaf, 63 - - - W - - Wages boards, 261 - - Ward, Mrs. Humphry, 261 - - Wheatfields in the desert, 19, 20 - - _Wimmera_, the, 261 - - Wolves in Russian Central Asia, 87 - - - Y - - Yakuts, the, 46 - - Yaroslaf Vsevolodovitch, 63 - - Yellow Peril, the, 170 - - - Z - - Zaalaisk, Government grants to emigrants, 152 - - _Zollverein_, a, Chamberlain and, 251 - - - - - PRINTED BY CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, LA BELLE SAUVAGE, LONDON, E.C. - F 15.416 - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - - -[A] Connected by rail with Tashkent since my tramp across the country. - -[B] As the Government never exercised a monopoly of the sale of vodka -in Russian Central Asia the Tsar’s edict did not apply to these -regions. However, I believe the sale of intoxicating liquor has been -greatly restricted by the local authorities. - -[C] _Pecus_ = a head of cattle, a beast of the field. - -[D] This differentiation in hue is in case the persons holding the -certificates should be illiterate. - -[E] Counting the rouble as worth 1s. 6d. At the moment of writing it is -worth rather less than 1s. 4d., but it should improve somewhat. - -[F] See “The Round Table,” a review of the interests of the Empire, and -“The Prospect of a Commonwealth,” an extraordinary after-the-war volume. - -[G] American value, i.e. £1,000,000,000. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. - - Illustrations have been moved to the nearest paragraph breaks. In some - cases, these breaks are on different pages. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Through Russian Central Asia</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Stephen Graham</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 26, 2022 [eBook #67938]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was created from images of public domain material made available by the University of Toronto Libraries.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THROUGH RUSSIAN CENTRAL ASIA ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="40%" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<h1><span class="smcap">Through Russian Central Asia</span></h1> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_0"></span> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">THE TOMB OF TIMOUR</p> -</div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<p><span class="xlarge">Through Russian<br /> -Central Asia</span></p> - -<p>By<br /> -<span class="large">STEPHEN GRAHAM</span></p> - -<p class="right">With Photogravure and many<br /> -Black-and-White Illustrations<br /> -from Original Photographs</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="large">Cassell and Company, Ltd</span><br /> -London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne<br /> -1916</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[v]</span> -<h2 class="nobreak">Contents</h2> -</div> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - - -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="3"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="smcap">Introduction</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_ix"> ix</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">1.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Leaving Vladikavkaz</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1"> 1</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">2.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Where the Desert Blossoms</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15"> 15</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">3.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Wonderful Bokhara</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_24"> 24</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">4.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Mohammedan Cities and Mohammedanism</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_35"> 35</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">5.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The History of the Tribes</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_44"> 44</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">6.</td><td> <span class="smcap">To Tashkent</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_55"> 55</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">7.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Russian Conquest</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_63"> 63</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">8.</td><td> <span class="smcap">On the Road</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_72"> 72</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">9.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Pioneers</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_134"> 134</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">10.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Fellow-Travellers</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_156"> 156</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">11.</td><td> <span class="smcap">On the Chinese Frontier</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_173"> 173</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">12.</td><td> “<span class="smcap">Midsummer Night among the Tent-Dwellers</span>”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_184"> 184</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">13.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Over the Siberian Border</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_203"> 203</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">14.</td><td> <span class="smcap">On the Irtish</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_210"> 210</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">15.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Country of the Maral</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_218"> 218</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">16.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Declaration of War</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_228"> 228</a></td></tr> - - - - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="3">APPENDICES<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[vi]</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">1.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Russia and India and the Prospects of Anglo-Russian -Friendship</span> </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_237"> 237</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">2.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Russian Empire and the British Empire</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_249"> 249</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="smcap">Index</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_271"> 271</a></td></tr> -</table> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">List of Illustrations</h2> -</div> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Tomb of Timour</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_0"> <i>Photogravure Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><small>FACING PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Central Asian Railway: Nearing the Oxus</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_18"> 18</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Central Asian Desert</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_20"> 20</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Bokhara: The Escort of a Magistrate</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_28"> 28</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Outside One of the Most Famous of the Mosques</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_32"> 32</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Holiday at Samarkand: Boys of the Military School -Playing among the Ruins of the Tomb of Tamerlane</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_36"> 36</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Mohammedan Tombs and Ruins in the Youngest of the -Russian Colonies</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_40"> 40</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Mohammedan Festival at Samarkand—The Hour of -Prayer</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_48"> 48</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Central Asian Jewesses</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_50"> 50</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Fine-looking Sarts in Old Tashkent</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_56"> 56</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Outside a German Shop in Old Tashkent</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_58"> 58</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Tashkent: A Football Match at the College</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_60"> 60</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Pleasant Country Outside Tashkent</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_64"> 64</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Hearty Shepherds: All Kirghiz</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_66"> 66</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Russian Teacher: A Native School in Tashkent</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_68"> 68</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Kirghiz Grandmother: Vendor of</span> <i>Koumis</i></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_74"> 74</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Russians and Kirghiz Living Side by Side at the Foot -of the Mountains</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_76"> 76</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Tent of Lonely Nomads on a Summer Pasture in -Central Asia</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_80"> 80</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sarts Selling Bread: The</span> <i>Lepeshka</i> <span class="smcap">Stall</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_84"> 84</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span><span class="smcap">The Native Orchestra: See the Men with the Ten-foot -Horns, “Trumpets of Jericho,” as the Russians Call -Them</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_104"> 104</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“<span class="smcap">Past the Ruins of Ancient Towers</span>”</td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_120"> 120</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Settled Kirghiz: One of the Characters of Pishpek</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_130"> 130</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Irrigated Desert—an Emblem of Russian Colonisation -in Central Asia</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_136"> 136</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Shady Village Street—One Long Line of Willows -and Poplars</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_152"> 152</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Cathedral of St. Sophia at Verney—After the -Earthquake of 1887</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_158"> 158</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Visitors at a Kirghiz Wedding</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_168"> 168</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Chinese Praying-House at Djarkent</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_178"> 178</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Lepers in a Frontier Town</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_180"> 180</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Patriarchal Kirghiz Family</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_186"> 186</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sheep-Shearing Outside the Tent Home</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_194"> 194</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">In Summer Pasture: Evening Outside the Kirghiz Tent</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_198"> 198</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Four Wives of a Rich Kirghiz</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_205"> 205</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">At a Kirghiz Funeral</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_207"> 207</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Kirghiz Praying</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_215"> 215</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">In the Altai: Kirghiz Tombs near Medvedka</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_222"> 222</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Altaiska</span> <i>Stanitsa</i>: <span class="smcap">View of Mount Bielukha</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_230"> 230</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Mobilisation Day on the Altai: The Village Emptied -of its Folk</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_232"> 232</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Map of Route taken by Author</span></td><td class="tdr" valign="bottom"><a href="#Page_270"> 270</a></td></tr> -</table> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[ix]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">Introduction</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap">THE journey recorded in these pages was made in -the summer before the great war, and although -the record of my impressions and the story of my -adventures were fully written in my road diary and in -the articles I sent to <i>The Times</i>, I had thought to -postpone issuing my book to some quieter moment -beyond the war. But the days go on, and we are -getting accustomed to live in a state of war; war has -almost become a normal condition of existence. At -first we could do nothing but consider the facts of -the great quarrel of nations and the exploits of the -armies. War for the moment seemed to be our life, -our culture, and our religion. But things have -changed. War started by concentrating us and -making us narrow, but now it is giving us greater -breadth. We have become more interested in the -home life of our Allies, in the “after-the-war” prospects -of Europe, in the future of our own British -Empire and of the wide world generally. The war -has given us a larger consciousness, and we have -become, as some say, “Continental.” In any case,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">[x]</span> -we are much less insular. France and Russia have -become real places to the man in the street, and the -account he gives of them is more credible. Even -our country labourer can say where Gallipoli is, Mesopotamia, -Egypt, Salonica, Bulgaria, Serbia, though, -indeed, I have frequently heard the latter spoken of -as Siberia. “My son’s gone to Siberia,” says the -countryman; “it’s a cold place.” Our imagination -ranges farther afield, and young men of all classes -think of making far travels when the war is -over. We are not less interested in other things, -but more; only less interested in the old suffocating -business and industrial life of the time before -the war, of the stuffy rooms, the circumscribed -horizons, the dull grind. All eyes are opened wider, -all hearts have greater hopes, and that which dares in -us dares more. We are reading more, reading better, -and, among other matters, are thinking more of foreign -countries, empires, far-away climes. The war, bringing -so many nations together, has touched imaginations. -It has mixed our themes of conversations and enriched -our life with new colours, new ideas. So, perhaps, -the story of this journey and my impressions of an -interesting but remote portion of the Tsar’s Empire -will not come amiss just now. Moreover, during the -war many problems have become clearer, especially -those of the British Empire, clearer, but none the -less unsolved, and I feel that a study of a vast stretch<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xi">[xi]</span> -of the Russian Empire, and of its problems and its -prospective future, cannot but be helpful.</p> - -<p>Among the letters sent me care of <i>The Times</i> there -is one written about an article which has become a -chapter in this book:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Since I was a child and steeped myself in the ‘Arabian -Nights,’ I have never been so enthralled as I was by an -article of yours called ‘Towards Turkestan,’ which appeared -in <i>The Times</i> long since, as it seems now (last May?). I -am an old, tired recluse. I have been reading for over -sixty years. I’m very much extinct, but my desert also -blossomed with your roses.</p> - -<p>“Charm <i>inexpressible</i> breathed from the roses (I think -they must have been the black-red sort). Strange figures—rich -garments, all solemnised by, as it were, a twilight -glamour made of magical influences. All so real, yet remote. -I repeat, I have never been taken away so far since -I was a child. There was another article which I cut out -and lost ... but I did not prize it as I did the Turkestan -article, where figures both bizarre and dignified greeted you -and bade you farewell with roses. And sunset steeps them -in a golden haze. And they still move there whilst the -traveller who has spell-bound them in his writing has gone -on his way....”</p> -</div> - -<p>I have printed this letter because it was sweet to -have it, and it touched me. May the roses bloom -again!</p> - -<p>I am indebted to the Editors of <i>The Times</i> and -<i>Country Life</i> for permission to republish portions of -this book previously printed in their columns, and to -<i>Country Life</i> for permission to republish photographs.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xii">[xii]</span> -For these photographs, except those relating to the -Altai, I am chiefly indebted to the professor of French -at Tashkent Military School and to M. Drampof, of -Pishpek. Special permission has to be obtained to -enter Russian Central Asia, and, as I was going on -foot, the possession of a camera might have led to the -suspicion of military spying. So I had my camera -sent to Semipalatinsk, which is in Siberia, and only -used it on the Siberian part of my journey. My -thanks are also due to Mr. Wilton, the courteous and -able correspondent of <i>The Times</i> at Petrograd, who -obtained for me my permit for travel in Russian -Central Asia.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Stephen Graham.</span></p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span> - -<p class="ph2">Through Russian Central Asia</p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">I<br /> - - -<small>LEAVING VLADIKAVKAZ</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IN the early spring of 1914 I walked once more to -the Kazbek mountain. It was really too early for -tramping, too cold, but it was on this journey that I -decided what my summer should be. Once you have -become the companion of the road, it calls you and -calls you again. Even in winter, when you have to -walk briskly all day, and there is no sitting on any -bank of earth or fallen tree to write a fragment or -rest, and when there is no sleeping out, but only -the prospect of freezing at some wretched coffee-house -or inn, the road still lies outside the door of your -house full of charm and mystery. You want to know -where the roads lead to, and what may be on them -beyond the faint horizon’s line.</p> - -<p>So it is March, and I am walking out from -Vladikavkaz on the Georgian road, and only on a four -days’ journey—to the Kazbek mountain and back. -Indeed, the road beyond is probably choked with -snow, and there is no further progress. But I shall -see how the year stands on the Caucasus.</p> - -<p>The stillness of the morning—a circumambient -silence. A consciousness of the silence in the deep of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span> -space. Three miles of level highway stretch straight -and brown from the city on the steppes to the dark, -blank wall of the mountains. Beyond the black wall -and above it are the snow-mantled superior ranges, -and above all, almost melting into the deep blue of -the Caucasian sky, the glimmering, icy-wet slopes of -the dome of the Kazbek. The sun presides over the -day, and as a personal token burns the brow, even -though the feet tread on patches of crisp snow on the -yellow-green banks of the moor. No lizards basking -in the sun, no insects on the wing, no flowers—not a -speedwell, not a cowslip, not a snowdrop. Only little -flocks of siskins rising unexpectedly from sun-bathed -hollows like so many fat grasshoppers. Only an -occasional crazy brown leaf that scampers over the -withered fallen grass. There is vapour over the -plumage-like woods on the hills, but no birds are -singing. Nature can almost be described in negation, -she shows so little of her glory; yet she makes the -heart ache the more.</p> - -<p>Persian stone-breakers, hammer in hand, sitting on -mats by the side of the heaps of rocks; primitive carts -lumbering with their loads of faggots or maize-straw -or ice; horsemen like centaurs because of their great -black capes joining their head and shoulders to little -Caucasian horses—that is all the life at this season of -the year of the one great highway over the mountains, -the great military road from Vladikavkaz to Tiflis—no -motor-cars, no trams, no light-rolling carriages with -gentry in them, no trains.</p> - -<p>Stopping at a sunny mound to have lunch, you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span> -hear from a hundred yards away the River Terek like -the sound of a wind in the forest, the impetuous -stream rushing between white crusts of frozen foam -and washing greenly against ice-crowned boulders. -For sixty miles the road is that of the valley of the -Terek. It passes the Redant and then becomes the -visible companion of the river, winding with it among -the primeval grandeur of its rocks. The Kazbek -begins to disappear, hidden by its barrier cliffs—its -Kremlin; but for a mile or so its snowy cap remains -in sight over the great lopsided, jagged crags. The -blue smokes of Balta and red-roofed nestling Dolinadalin -rise into the afternoon sky. The road enters -the chilling shadow of the Gorge of Jerakhof, and -you look back regretfully on the red sunlit strand -behind you. The white-framed Terek moves in a -grand curve through a broad wilderness of stones and -snow. An icy mountain draught creeps from the -cleft in the grey cold rocks. On the deserted road -the telegraph poles and wires assume that sinister -expression which they have in vast and lonely mountain -tracts. The opening by which you entered the -gorge becomes a purple triangle, and far above you -and behind you glimmers the tobacco-coloured sunlit -Table Mountain.</p> - -<p>The road becomes narrower: on the one hand the -river roars among ice-mantled rocks, on the other the -black silt continually trickles and whispers. The faint -crimson of sunset lights the wan towers of Fortoug, -and then one by one the yellow stars come out like -lamps over the mountain walls.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span>There are three inns between Vladikavkaz and the -Kazbek mountain. I stayed at the second, at Larse, -and made my supper with some thirty Georgians, -Ossetines, and Russians, workmen on the road and -chance travellers. Here I heard many rumours of -the commercial destiny of the military road, of the -thirty-verst tunnel that it is necessary to make, of -the Englishman named Stewart, the “Boss of the -Terek”—<i>Khosaïn Tereka</i>—who has the contract to -supply the whole of the Caucasus with electricity, -who will or will not make an electric power station -in the shadow of Queen Tamara’s castle, needing an -artificial waterfall three hundred sazhens high.</p> - -<p>“But the project has grown cold,” said I.</p> - -<p>“It will come to nothing,” say the hillmen; “for -ten years people have been talking of such things, -but nothing has changed except that we have got -poorer.”</p> - -<p>But the host is an optimist. “It will come. -There will be a tramway from the city to the Kazbek. -The trams will go past my door. We shall have -electric light and electric cooking, and will become -rich.”</p> - -<p>We remained all thirty in one room all night—square-faced, -gentle, sociable Russians in blouses; -tall, Roman-looking Georgians and Ossetines in long -cloaks, with daggers at their tight waists, with high -sheepskin hats on their heads. They ate voraciously -bread and cheese and black pigs’-liver, putting the -waste ends when they had finished into the bags of -their winter hoods—astonishing people to look at,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span> -these Caucasians; though half-starved, yet of great -stature and iron strength, with fine, broad-topped, -intelligent heads, deeply lined, cunning brows, long, -beak-like, aquiline noses. They would make splendid -soldiers—but not so good “soldiers of industry.” -They are a people who often fail when they go -to America. They all knew men who had gone there -and had returned with stories of unemployment or -exploitation. Scarcely one of them had a good word -to say of America. They all, however, looked forward -to the time when the Caucasus would be developed on -American lines and hum with Western prosperity. -We slept on the tables of the inn, on the bar, in the -embrasures of the windows, on the forms, on sacking -on the floor—the kerosene lamp was turned low, and -nearly everyone snored.</p> - -<p>We were all up before dawn, and I accompanied -an Ossetine miller who was in search of flint for his -mill, and we entered the Gorge of Dariel whilst the -stars were dim in the sky. It was a sharp wintry -morning, and as the road led ever upward and became -ever narrower, the wind was piercing. The leaking -rocks of summer where often I had made my morning -tea were now grown old in the winter, and had wisps -of grey hair hanging down—yard-long icicles and thick -tangles of ice. The precipitously falling streams and -waterfalls were ice-marble stepping-stones from the -Terek to the mountain-top.</p> - -<p>We entered the gorge by the little red bridge -which, like a brace, unites the two sides of the river -at its narrowest point. The stars disappeared. Somewhere<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span> -the sun was rising, but his light was only in -the sky so far above. We beheld the green, primeval -ruin of Nature, the red-brown, grey, and green -boulders of Dariel in varied immensity and diversity -of shape, the vast shingly, boulder-strewn wastes, the -adamantine shoulders of porphyry, the cold, ponderous -immensities of rock held over the daring little road, -the river eddies springing like tigers over the central -ledges between fastnesses of ice.</p> - -<p>My Ossetine picked up various stones and struck -them with his dagger to see how well they sparked, -and, having apparently found what he wanted, -accepted a lift in an ox-cart and returned back to the -inn at Larse. Perhaps it was too cold for him. I -walked up to the square cliff of Tamara and the -tooth of the wall of the ancient castle where Queen -Tamara treacherously entertained strangers, making -love to them and feasting them, and then having -them murdered; the castle where the devil once -arrived in the guise of such an unlucky wanderer—the -scene of the story of Lermontof’s “Demon.”</p> - -<p>This was once the frontier of Asia, and the -romantic country of a fine fighting people. To this -day, despite railway projects and the hope that the -river may provide the Caucasus with electricity, -Queen Tamara’s castle remains almost the newest -thing. It is modern beside the antiquity and majesty -of the ruin of Nature. Here the real world seems to -jut out through the green turf and flower-carpeted -earth into the light of day, striking us awfully, like -the apparition of God the Father coming up out of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> -the bowers of Eden. You feel yourself in the -presence of something even older than mankind -itself, and you wonder what differences you would -note if, with the goloshes of Fortune on your feet, -you could be transported back a thousand years, a -second thousand, a third thousand, and so on. What -did the Ancients make of this? They held that it was -to the Kazbek mountain that Prometheus was bound -as a punishment for stealing fire from heaven. Was -that what they said when they first came fearfully -through and discovered the plains of the North?</p> - -<p>An ancient way! And then at the turn of it, the -gate to the “Kremlin” of Dariel, and the towering -Kazbek lifting itself to the sky within. Here is truly -one of the most wonderful and romantic regions in -the world. But it was not to see the Kazbek that I -made this journey, but to find again a certain cave -where years ago I found my companion on the road, -the place where we lived and slept by the side of the -river. It was there as I left it, familiar, calm, by -the side of the running river, glittering in the noon-day -sun, and the granite boulders held threads of ice -and ice-pearls—the ear-rings of the rocks. And I -would have liked to meet my companion again. But -Heaven knew under what part of its canopy the tramp -was wandering then. I felt a home-sickness to be -tramping again, and I decided that as soon as the -snow and ice had gone I would take to the road.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>And so, the season having changed, and the cold -winds and rains of spring giving way to summer, I take<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span> -the road once more into new country. The season really -changes when it is possible to sleep comfortably out of -doors. This year I go into the depths of the Russian -East, and, besides taking the adventures of the road, -continue my study of Easternism and Westernism in -the Tsar’s Empire. I travel by train to Tashkent, the -limit of the railway, and then take the road, with my -pack on my back, through the deserts of Sirdaria and -the Land of the Seven Rivers towards the limits of -Chinese Tartary and Pamir, then along the Chinese -frontier, north to the Altai mountains and the -steppes of Southern Siberia. This is a long, new -journey—new for English experience—because, until -our entente with Russia, mutual jealousy about the -Indian frontier made it extremely difficult for the -Russian Government to permit observant and adventurous -Englishmen to wander about as I intend to -do. Indeed, even now I may be stopped and turned -back from some forlorn spot seven or eight hundred -miles from a railway station, and then, perhaps, silence -may engulf my correspondence for a time. All things -may happen; my papers may be confiscated or lost in -the post, or my progress may be stopped by various -accidents. In any case, I have official permission for -my journey, and the weather is fine.</p> - -<p>The old grandmother baked me a box of sweet -cheesecakes (<i>vatrushki</i>), Vassily Vassilitch brought me -fruit and chocolate, another friend brought three dozen -cabbage pies—thus one always starts out for the wilderness. -We assembled in the grandmother’s sitting-room -to say good-bye. I am to beware of earthquakes, of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> -snakes, of having much money on my person, of being -bitten by scorpions, of tigers, wolves, bears, of occult -experiences.</p> - -<p>“It is occult country,” said G——, teacher of -mathematics in the “Real School.” “You are likely -to have occult adventures; some enormous catacylsm is -going to take place this summer. I don’t know what -it is, but I should advise you to get across this dangerous -country as soon as you can. Siberia is safe, and North -Russia, but not Central Asia, and not, as a matter of -fact, Germany.”</p> - -<p>He had had a strange dream, and, being of occult -preoccupation, ventured on vague prophecy, which -generally took the form of earthquakes and catacylsms. -When I met him in the autumn after my journey, -the great war with Germany had broken out, and I -was inclined to credit him with a true prophecy; but, -with honest wilfulness, he was still figuring out earthquakes -and cataclysms to be, and would not have it -that the European conflagration was the fulfilment of -his dream.</p> - -<p>Another friend is charmed with the idea that I am -going to Bokhara, and won’t I bring her home a silk -scarf from the great bazaars? Another is touched by -the dream that I am realising. To him Central Asia -is a fairyland, and the Thian Shan mountains are not -real mountains so much as mountains in a book of -legends.</p> - -<p>At last the old grandmother says:</p> - -<p>“All sit down!”</p> - -<p>And we sit, and are silent together for a few<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> -moments, then rise and turn to the Ikon and cross -ourselves. The grandmother marks me in the sign of -the Cross and blesses me, praying that I may achieve -my journey and come safely back, that no harm may -overtake me, and that I may have success. Then I pass -to each of the others present and say “Good-bye.” -Vera, however, looks at me in such a way that I am -sure she means that she feels I shall never return. So -I am bound to ask myself: Is not this farewell a final -farewell? Does not this Russian see something that -is going to happen to me? But she has been very kind -to me, and just at parting puts a beautiful Ikon-print -into my hand, and I fix it in the inside of the cover of -my stiff map.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The train from Vladikavkaz wanders along the -northern side of the Caucasus, unable to find a pass -over the mountains. The meadows as far as eye can -see are yellowed with cowslips. Now and then a derrick -tells that you are in the oil region, and in an hour or -so the train steams into the pavement-shed station that -marks the weariness and mud of Grozdny, capital of -the North Caucasian oilfields. There is a breath of salt -air at Petrovsk, a few hours later, and you realise that -you have reached the Caspian shore. All night long -the train runs along to Baku, glad, as it were, to turn -south at last and get round the Caucasus it cannot cross. -At Baku I change and take steamer across the Caspian -Sea to Krasnovodsk, on the salt steppes, but I have a -whole day to wait in the city.</p> - -<p>Ordinarily, you come to Baku to make money.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> -There is nothing to tempt you there otherwise. In -windy weather you are blinded with clouds of flying -sand; in the heat of summer you are stifled with kerosene -odours. It is a commercial city without glamour. -Though it boasts several millionaires and is an important -name in every financial newspaper in the world, it has -no public works, nothing by virtue of which it can take -its stand as a Western city. The working men are -very badly paid—that is, according to our Western -standards—and they do not obtain the few advantages -of industrial civilisation that ought to come to make -up for dreary life and health lost. There is a constant -ferment amongst the labouring classes in the -city, and repeated strikes, even in war time. Baku, -again, is one of the last refuges of the horse tram -and the kerosene street-lamp. It is only in the -eastern quarter that the town has charm. There -you may see strings of camels loping up the steep -streets, panniers on their worn, furry backs, Persians -squatting between the panniers, contentedly bobbing -up and down with the movement of the beast. Or you -may watch the camels kneeling to be loaded, crying -appealingly as the heavy burdens are put on them, -cumbrously lifting themselves again, hind-legs first, -and joining the waiting knot of camels already -loaded.</p> - -<p>The great shopping place—the bazaar—is wholly -Eastern, and even more characteristic than in Russia -proper. I feel how the bazaar and the ways of the -bazaar came to Russia from the East. As you go from -stall to stall you are besieged by porters holding empty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> -baskets—they want to be hired to walk behind you -and carry your purchases as you make them. Characters -of the Arabian Nights, these; and yet in the -streets of Warsaw and Kief, and many other cities, -those men in red hats and brass badges, who sit on the -kerb or on doorsteps waiting for passers-by to hire -them, are really the lineal Westernised descendants of -the tailor’s fifth brother—I think it was the fifth -brother who was a porter.</p> - -<p>In the harbour, at the pier where my boat is waiting, -I watch the Persian dockers working. Real slaves -they are, working twelve hours a day for 1s. 4d. (60 -copecks). They have straw-stuffed pack carriers on -their backs, like the saddling of camels, and the -rhythm of their movement as they proceed with their -burdens from the warehouse to the ship is that of -slavery. The name of slavery has gone, but the fact -remains. Still, the European is not awakened to pity. -The Persians are the human camels, work hardest of -all the people of the East, and are the least discontented. -They are singing and crying and calling -all the time they work. The East slaves for the -West, but still is not much influenced by the West. -It is not they who cause the strikes.</p> - -<p>Just before the time for my boat to leave another -boat arrives from Lenkoran, and out of it come a party -of Persian men with carpet bags slung across their -shoulders, their wives in black veils, many-coloured -cloaks, and baggy cotton trousers, their children all -carrying earthenware pots. More labour available on -the docks, more homes occupied in the little houses<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> -that dot the eight-mile crescent of the mountainous -city of Baku.</p> - -<p>The boat leaves at nightfall. It is the <i>Skobelef</i>, a -handsome steamer, built in Antwerp in 1902. It must -have been brought to the Caspian along the waterways -of Europe; an officer on board ventures the opinion -that it was brought to Baku in parts and fitted up -there. A pleasant ship, however it was brought—considerably -superior to the ordinary American lake-steamer, -for instance. There were very few passengers, -and these lay down to sleep at once, fearing the storm -that was blowing, so I remained alone on deck and -watched the retreating shore. Leaving Europe for -America, you sit up in the prow and look ahead, -over the ocean; at least, you do not sit and watch -the Irish coast disappear. But leaving Europe for -Asia, you sit aft and watch her to the last. And -the retreating lights of Baku are the lights of -Europe.</p> - -<p>The night is very dark and starless, and so the eight-mile -semicircle of lights is wonderful to behold; the -handsome lanterns of the pier, the lights of the esplanade, -of the three variety theatres, of the cinemas and -shops, the thousands of sparks of homes on the mountain-side. -This is the real beginning of my journey, -and it is very thrilling; good to sit in the wind and -feel the movement of the sea; good to watch the many -lighthouses turning red, then green, in the night, and -to pass within ten yards of a little lamp, just over the -surface of the sea, alternately going out and bursting -into brightness every thirty seconds. The lamp seems<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> -to say: “There is danger ... there is danger,” and -it whispers joyful intelligence to the heart.</p> - -<p>There is trouble on the water as we reach the open -sea, and the boat begins to roll, but it is still pleasant -on the upper deck, and the high wind is warm.</p> - -<p>The lights of Baku and Europe have been gradually -erased. First to go were the sparks of the homes on -the mountain-side, then the lights of the esplanade; -the eight great lamps of the pier remain, and one by -one they disappear till there is only the great yellow-green -flasher that tells ships coming into the harbour -just where Baku is. That also disappears at last, and -it begins to rain heavily. So I go down to my berth -to sleep.</p> - -<p>Next morning the wide green sea was sunlit and -flecked with white crests of turning waves. Looking -out of a port-hole, I saw the bright light of morning -shining on the grey and accidental-looking mountains -of Asia. The boat was coming into Krasnovodsk.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">II<br /> - - -<small>WHERE THE DESERT BLOSSOMS</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">KRASNOVODSK is one of the hottest, most -desert, and miserable places in the world. The -mountains are dead; there is no water in them. -Rain scarcely ever falls, and the earth is only sand -and salt. Strange that even there there is a season of -spring, and little shrubs peep forth in green and live -three weeks or a month before they are finally scorched -up. I spent the day with a kind Georgian to whom -I had a letter; a shipping agent at the harbour. -He was to have helped me, supposing the local -<i>gendarmerie</i> should stop my landing. But by an -amusing chance I escaped the inspecting officer’s -attention, and got into Transcaspia without questions -or passport-showing. One can never be quite -sure of passing, even when one’s papers are in order. -The Russian Government does not give a written passport -for Central Asia, but transmits your name to all -the local authorities, and you have to trust, first, to -their having received your name and, second, to their -agreeing that the name received in its Russian spelling -is the same as yours written in English on your -British passport. In the case of a name such as mine, -which is spelt one way and pronounced another, there -is likely to be difficulties. During my stay in Central<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> -Asia, moreover, I saw my name spelt in the following -cheerful ways—Grkhazkn, Groyansk, and, of -course, the inevitable Graggam, and on some occasions -I had the difficult task of persuading Russian -officials that the names were one and the same. Still, -they were inclined to be lenient.</p> - -<p>The Georgian was very hospitable; he took me -from the pier to his house, behind six or seven wilted -and tired acacia trees, gave me a bedroom, bade the -samovar and coffee for me; and I made my breakfast -and then slept the three hot hours of the day. In -the evening he brought up his other Caucasian compatriots -from the settlement, a little band of exiles, -and we talked many hours to the tune of the humming -samovar. We talked of Vladikavkaz and the Kazbek -beloved of Georgians, and of my tramps and of mutual -acquaintances in Caucasian towns and villages, talked -of ethics and politics, and the working man, and of -Russia, especially of modern Russia, with its bourgeois -and the evil town life. Mine host had almost Victorian-English -sentiments, did not like the slit skirt and -Tango stocking—so evident in Baku, did not know -what women were coming to—despised the Russians -for their flirting and dancing and gay living, believed -in quiet family life as the foundation of personal -happiness, and in Socialism as the foundation of -political blessedness. The lights of Europe had not -quite disappeared.</p> - -<p>As the train did not leave till twelve, we had a -long and pleasant evening, and when the time came -to go mine host brought me a big bottle of Kakhetian<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> -wine, and we all went together to the railway station. -I got my ticket, found my carriage. No commotion, -no excitement, the empty midnight train crept out -of the station, over the salt steppes, and I felt as if -in the whole long train there was only myself. It -was very vexatious, leaving in the shadow of dark -night when no landscape was visible, but there was -consolation in the fact that the train accomplished -no more than seventy-five miles before sunrise. Next -morning, directly I awakened, I looked out of the -train, and there before my gaze was the desert; -yellow-brown sand as far as eye could see, and on the -horizon the enigmatical silhouette of a string of camels, -looking like a scrap of Eastern handwriting between -earth and heaven. A new sight in front of me, for -I had never seen the desert before, except, of course, -in Palestine, where it is hardly characteristic. The -cliffs of Krasnovodsk had disappeared; the desert was -on either hand. I looked in vain for a house or a -tree anywhere, but I saw again, as at Krasnovodsk, -Nature’s pathetic little effort to make a home—an -occasional yellow thistle in bloom, a wan pink in -blossom here and there on the sand. The train was -going so slowly that it seemed possible to step down -on to the plain, pick a flower, and return.</p> - -<p>Strange that the Russian Government should take -railways over the desert before it has developed its -home trade routes! The Western mind would find -this railway almost inexplicable. You might almost -take it to be an elaborate game of make-believe. -The train is scheduled in the time-table among the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> -fast trains, and yet at successive empty desert -stations stops 21, 31, 14, 6, 12, 12 minutes respectively, -and takes 23 hours to traverse the 390 miles -from Krasnovodsk to Askhabad, an average rate -of 17 miles an hour. The reason for this slowness -lies, perhaps, in the fact that the sleepers are not -very well laid, and would be dislodged if greater -speed were attempted; and the stops at the stations -are impressive, indulge a Russian taste for getting -out of trains and having a look round, and also, -incidentally, let the wild natives know that the steam -caravan is waiting for them if they want to go. -We stop longer at one of these blank desert stations -than the Nord express at Berlin or a Chicago express -at Niagara. Russia is not excited about loss of time. -Time may be money in America; it is only copper -money in Russia, and it is more interesting to have -a political railway across the deserts of Asia than to -help the fruit-growers of Abkhasia or to functionise -industrially the vast railwayless North.</p> - -<p>It is dull travelling, but hills at length appear—the -lesser Balkans, the greater Balkans; salt marshes give -way to sandbanks—drifts of sand heaped up and shaped -by the wind like grey snowdrifts. The beautiful curving -lines of the sandbanks are wind runes. All this -district was once the bed of the Caspian Sea, or, rather, -of an ocean which, it is surmised, stretched on the one -hand to beyond the Aral Sea, and on the other to the -Azof and the Black Sea. The mountains were islands -or shores or dangerous rocks in the sea.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_018.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">THE CENTRAL ASIAN RAILWAY: NEARING THE OXUS</p> - -<p>When we had passed the Balkans the country<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> -improved <i>by bits</i>. Suddenly, far away, a patch of -green appeared, and one’s eye hailed it as one at sea -hails land. When the train drew nearer there came -into view a wonderful emerald square thick with young -wheat, set in the absolute grey and brown of the wilderness. -This was the first irrigated field. Soon a second -and a third field appeared in blessed contrast and -refreshment. Out of the yellowish, cloudy sky the sun -burst free, and I remembered that it was the first of -May. So May Day commenced for me.</p> - -<p>People began to appear at the stations, which up -till then had been desolate; stately Turkomans, wearing -from shoulders to ankles red and white <i>khalati</i>, -bath-robes rather than dresses; Tekintsi, in hats of -white, brown or black sheepskin, hats as big and -bigger than the bearskins of our Grenadiers; fat, -broad-lipped Kirghiz, with Mongolian brows and rat-tail -moustachios drooping to their close-cropped beards; -poor Bactrian labourers, in many colours; rich Persian -merchants, in sombre black. Many women stood at -the stations with hot, just-boiled eggs, with roast -chickens, milk or koumis in bottles, even with pats of -butter, with samovars. And there were native boys -with baskets heaped full of <i>lepeshki</i> (cakes of bread). -Each station was provided with a long barrier, and -the women, in lines of twenty or thirty, stood behind -their wares and cried to the passengers. The many -steaming samovars were a welcome sight, and at the -charge of a halfpenny I made myself tea at one of them.</p> - -<p>The country steadily improved, and the train passed -by fields along whose every furrow little artificial<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> -streams were trickling, past many more emerald wheatfields -surrounded by big dykes. The yellow dust of this -desert needs only water to make it abundantly fertile; -it is not merely frayed rock and stone, as the sand of -the seashore, but an organic substance which has been -settling from the atmosphere for ages—the <i>lessovaya -zemlya</i>. When we realise that there is of this strange -dust a coat deep enough to be a soil, we understand -something of the antiquity of the desert and the fact -that, when we consider geological history, our mind -must range over millions of years, whereas in thinking -of the history of man we are almost aghast to think -of thousands of years. So the <i>leoss</i> dust settles out -of the clear air. Incidentally, what else may not be -settling out of the air into the every-day of our world? -The spring flowers show the richness of this dust of -the wilderness, for now behold the desert under the -influence of irrigation blooming as the rose. It does, -indeed, actually blossom with the rose, for I notice -even on the fringe of the hopeless desert the sweet-briar, -and it is unusually lovely. At the new stations -little children appear, having in their hands little -clusters of deep crimson blossoms. Poppies now -appear on the waste, irises, saxifrages, mulleins, toadflax—the -voice of a rich country crying in the midst -of the sand. Here it is literally true:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,</div> -<div class="verse">And waste its sweetness on the desert air.</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_020.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">THE CENTRAL ASIAN DESERT</p> - -<p>By evening the train is running along the frontier -of the north of Persia, and every house has a garden of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> -roses. A Persian silk merchant, all in black, with a -talisman of green jade hanging from a gold chain round -his neck, comes into my carriage, and prepares to -occupy the upper shelf. He is travelling all night to -Merv, and has brought a great bouquet of sweet-smelling, -double roses into the carriage. A knobbly-nosed, -grey-faced, animal-eared, antediluvian old sort, -this Persian would not stay in my carriage because -there was a woman in it, but asked me to keep his place -while he went and locked himself in the empty women’s -compartment next door. He left his black, horn-handled, -slender, leather-wrapped walking-stick behind—its -ferrule was of brass, and seven inches long.</p> - -<p>We reached Geok-Tepe, a great fortress of the -Tekintsi, reduced by Skobelef in 1881. At the railway -station there is a room in which are preserved specimens -of all the weapons used in the fight. There are also -waxwork representations of a Russian soldier with his -gun, and a native soldier cutting the air with his semicircle -of a sword. Many passengers turned out to have -a look at these things. It was sunset time, and the -west was glowing red behind the train, the evening air -was full of health and fragrance, the stars were like -magnesium lights in the lambent heaven, the young -moon had the most wonderful place in the sky, poised -and throned not right overhead, but some degrees from -the zenith, as it were on the right shoulder of the night.</p> - -<p>It was an evening that touched the heart. At every -station to Askhabad the passengers descended from the -train, and walked up and down the platforms and -talked. The morning of May Day had been blank and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> -dismal; the evening was full of gaiety and life. We -reached Askhabad, the first great city of Turkestan, -about eleven o’clock at night, and its platform presented -an extraordinary scene. The whole forty-five minutes -of our stay it was crowded with all the peoples of -Central Asia—Persians, Russians, Afghans, Tekintsi, -Bokharese, Khivites, Turkomans—and everyone had -in his hand, or on his dress, or in his turban roses. The -whole long pavement was fragrant with rose odours. -Gay Russian girls, all in white and in summer hats, -were chattering to young officers, with whom they -paraded up and down, and they had roses in their -hands. Persian hawkers, with capacious baskets of pink -and white roses, moved hither and thither; immense -and magnificent Turkomans lounged against pillars or -walked about, their bare feet stuck into the mere toe-places -they call slippers—they, too, held roses in their -fingers. In the third-class waiting-room was a line of -picturesque giants waiting for their tickets, and kept -in order meanwhile by a cross little Russian gendarme. -Behind the long barrier, facing the waiting train, stood -the familiar band of women with chickens and eggs, -with steaming samovars and bottles of hot milk. They -had now candle lanterns and kerosene lamps, and the -light glimmered on them and on the steam escaping -from the boiling water they were selling. I walked out -into the umbrageous streets, where triple lines of -densely foliaged trees cast shadow between you and the -beautiful night sky; in depths of dark greenery lay the -houses of the city, with grass growing on their far-projecting -roofs, with verandas on which the people<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> -sleep, even in May. But they were not asleep in Askhabad. -I stopped under a poplar and listened to the -sad music of the Persian pipes. In these warm, throbbing, -yet melancholy strains the night of North Persia -was vocal—the night of my May Day.</p> - -<p>I returned to the station and bought a large bunch -of pink and white roses, and, as the second bell had -rung, got back to my carriage, laid my plaid and my -pillow, and as the train went out I slipped away from -the wonderful city—to a happy dream.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">III<br /> - - -<small>WONDERFUL BOKHARA</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE promise of Persia was not fulfilled on the -morrow after my train left Askhabad. We -turned north-east, and passed over the lifeless, -waterless waste of Kara-Kum, 100 miles of tumbled -desert and loose sand. At eleven in the morning -the temperature was 80 in the shade—each carriage -in the train was provided with a thermometer—and -the air was charged with fine dust, which found -its way into the train despite all the closed windows -and closed doors. Through the window the gaze -ranged over the utmost disorder—yellow shores, all -ribbed as if left by the sea, sand-smoking hillocks, -hollows specked with faint grasses where the marmot -occasionally popped out of sight. At one point on the -passage across we came to mud huts, with Tekintsi -standing by them, and to a reach of the desert where -a herd of ragged-looking dromedaries were finding food -where no other animal would put its nose. Then we -passed away into uninterrupted flowerless sandhills, all -yellow and ribbed by the wind. So, all the way to the -red Oxus River. It is called the Amu-Darya now, but -it is the ancient Oxus, a fair, broad stream at Chardzhui, -but, from its colour, more like a river of red size than -of water. All the canals and dykes of the irrigation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> -system of the district flow with the red water of the -river, and wherever the water is conducted the desert -blossoms like virgin soil. The river is the sun’s wife, -and the green fields are their children.</p> - -<p>Chardzhui, the port on the Oxus, is the point for -embarkation for Khiva. There is a small fleet of -Government steamers plying between the two cities, -though it is comparatively difficult for travellers on -private business to obtain a passage on one of them. -When first this fleet was started there was some idea -that Russia would use them in her imperial warfare -as she pushed south, but probably the vessels have -little military significance nowadays. For the rest, -Chardzhui is famous for its melons, which grow to the -size of pumpkins and are very sweet. Frequently in -Petrograd shops or in fashionable restaurants one may -see enormous melons hanging from straps of bast—these -are the fruits of Chardzhui. At this season of -the year Chardzhui has a great deal of mud and does -not invite travellers, especially as its inns are bad.</p> - -<p>The train entered the Russian Protectorate of -Bokhara, and the population changed. From Askhabad -the natives had special cattle-trucks afforded -them, and they sat on planks stretched over trestles; -they were Sarts, Bokharese, Jews, Afghans. Into my -carriage came two Mohammedan scholars going to Bokhara -city. They washed their hands, spread carpets on -one side of the carriage, knelt on the other, said their -prayers, prostrated themselves. Then they took out -a copy of the Koran, and one read to the other in a -sonorous and poetical voice all the way to the city—they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> -were Sarts, a very ancient tribe of Aryan extraction, -some of the finest-looking people of Central Asia, tall, -dignified, wrinkled, wearing gorgeous cloaks and snowy -turbans. The two in my carriage had, apparently, -several wives in another compartment, as they each -carried a sheaf of tickets. The women hereabout were -very strictly in their <i>charchafs</i>. There was no peeping -out or peering round the corner, such as one sees in -Turkey, but an absolute black, blotting out of face and -form. When you looked at five or six sitting patiently -side by side, each and all in voluminous green cloaks, -and where the faces should appear a black mask the -colour and appearance of an oven-shelf, you felt a -horror as if the gaze had rested on corpses or on the -plague-stricken.</p> - -<p>From the Oxus valley the people swarmed in a -populous land, and it was a sight to see so many -Easterns drinking green tea from yellow basins. -Already we were nearer China than Russia, and the -sight took me back in memory to Chinatown, New -York, and the <i>chop suey</i> restaurants. I fell into conversation -with a Tartar merchant in carpets, and I -tried to obtain an idea of what Bokhara was like in -the year of grace 1914.</p> - -<p>“Is there an electric tramway in Bokhara, or a -horse tramway?”</p> - -<p>“No, nothing of the sort. The streets are so -narrow, two carts can’t pass one another without -collision.”</p> - -<p>“Are there any hotels?”</p> - -<p>“There are caravanserai.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>“No European buildings?”</p> - -<p>“Only outside the town. There is a Russian police-station, -and a hotel built for officials. The Emir won’t -allow any hotels to be built within the walls.”</p> - -<p>At length we reached New Bokhara, the Russian -town, with its white houses, avenues of trees, its -broad streets, and shops, and we changed to a by-line -for Ancient Bokhara. The train drew through -pleasant meadows and cornfields, bright and fertile -as the South of England, and after twelve sunny -versts we came into view of the cement-coloured mud -walls of the most wonderful city of Mohammedan Asia, -a place that might have been produced for you by -enchantment—that reminds you of Aladdin’s palace as -it must have appeared in the desert to which the -magician transported it. Within toothed walls—a grey -Kremlin eight miles round—live 150,000 Mohammedans, -entirely after their own hearts, without any -appreciable interference from without, in narrow -streets, in covered alleys, with endless shops, behind -screening walls. The roads are narrow and cobbled, -and wind in all directions, with manifold alleys and -lanes, with squares where stand handsome mosques, -with portals and stairways leading down to the cool -and tree-shaded, but stagnant, little reservoirs that hold -the city’s water. Along the roadway various equipages -come prancing—muddy <i>proletkas</i>, unhandy-looking, -egg-shaped carts, with clumsy wooden wheels eight feet -high, and projecting axles, gilt and crimson-covered -carts made of cane and straw, the shape of a huge egg -that has had both ends sliced off. The Bek, or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> -Bokharese magistrate, comes bounding along in his -carriage, with outriders, and all others give him salute -as he passes. It is noticeable that the drivers of vehicles -prefer to squat on the horses rather than sit in drivers’ -seats. Strings of laden camels blunder on the cobbles, -innumerable Mohammedans come, mounted on asses—it -is clear that man is master when you see an immense -Bokharese squatting on a meek ass and holding a huge -cudgel over its head. Charchaffed women are even seen -on asses, and some of them carry a child in front of -them. There are continually deadlocks in the narrow -lanes, and all the time the drivers shout “<i>Hagh, -hagh!</i>” (“Get out of the way, get out of the -way!”)</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_028.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">BOKHARA: THE ESCORT OF A MAGISTRATE</p> - -<p>The houses are made of the ruins of bygone houses, -of ancient tiles and mud. They have fine old doors of -carven wood, but no windows looking on the streets. -A sort of inlaid cupboard, with a glass window, half -open, a spread of wares, and a Moslem sitting in the -midst, is a shop. Thus sits the vendor of goods, but -also the maker—the tinsmith at work, the coppersmith, -the maker of hats. The bazaars are rich and rare, and -in the shadow of the covered streets—there are fifty of -them—the lustrous silks and carpets, and pots and -slippers, in the shops each side of the way, have an -extraordinary magnificence; the gorgeous vendors, sitting -patiently, not asking you to buy, staring at the -heaps of metallics, silver-bits and notes resting on the -little tabourets in front of them, belong to an age which -I thought was only to be found in books. What a -wealthy city it is! It offers more silks and carpets for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -sale than London or Paris; it is an endless warehouse -of covetable goods.</p> - -<p>What strikes you at Jerusalem or Constantinople is -the abundance of English goods for sale, but here at -Bokhara there is a strange absence of Western commodities. -Formerly the English sent all sorts of manufactures -by the caravan road from India, but since the -Russians ringed round their Customs system the commercial -influence of England has waned. Western -goods come via Russia. What European articles there -are come from Germany or Scandinavia. For the -rest, as in other Eastern cities, the street arabs hawk -churek-cakes and <i>lepeshki</i>; men in white sit at corners -selling, in this case, <i>Bokharese</i> delight, brown twists -of toffee, old-fashioned sugar-candy which in piles -looks like so much rock crystal. Beggars in rags -sit outside the mosques and hold up to you Russian -basins—they do not, however, cry and clamour and -follow you, as in the tourist-visited cities of Asia -Minor and North Africa. Outside every other shop -is a bird-cage and a large pet bird; in some cases -falcons, much prized in these lands. I admired the -falcons, and their owners seemed childishly pleased at -the attention I gave them. I gave a piece of Bokharese -silver to a beggar outside a mosque (the -Bokharese have their own silver coinage, which, however, -looks like ancient coin rather than any which is -now in use). In one of the big shadowy bazaars I -bought a delicious silk scarf of old-rose colour full of -light and loveliness, falling into a voluminous grandeur -as the melancholy Eastern showed it me. I did not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> -bargain about its price, that seemed almost impossible, -only five roubles (ten shillings), and the lady who has -it now says it is enough to make a whole robe. Somehow -I liked it better as a scarf than I could if it were -“made up.”</p> - -<p>I passed out of the city and walked round the walls. -A road encompasses them, and on the road are camels -with blue beads on their necks and many Easterns -riding them. There is a strange feeling of contrast -in being outside the city. The arc of the grey walls -goes gradually round and away from you, surrounding -and enclosing the life of the city; the city is like a -magical box full of strange magicians and singers and -toy shop-men and customers; it is like a strange -human beehive full of life. And outside the walls -there is the sudden contrast of fresh air and space -and life and greenery and broad sky. Inside the city -the streets are so narrow that you feel the “box” has -got the lid on. Someone said to me when I went to -New York: “We’ll give you the freedom of the -city with the lid off.” Well, Bokhara has the lid -<i>on</i>. And you feel that certainly when you get outside -and look at the silent, significant enclosing wall. -But the fields are deep in verdure, and it is like -a lovely June day in England—the willow leaning -lovingly over you, overwhelmed with leaves. The walls -are battlemented, rent, patched up, buttressed; there -are eleven gates, and at each gate the traffic going in -and out has a processional aspect. Along the walls, -between gate and gate, there is a deep and gentle peace. -No sound comes through the walls; they are broad and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> -high and solid. The swallows nesting there twitter. -You cannot obtain a glimpse, even of the high mosques -within.</p> - -<p>I entered the city once more, lost myself in its -mazes, and was obliged to take a native cab in order -to get out again. I was living outside the town in -an inn specially built for men on Government service. -I got the last empty room. Pleasant it was to lie -back in the sun and be carried along twenty wonderful -streets and lanes, seeing once more all I had seen -before of colour and Orientalism.</p> - -<p>The Bokharese are a gentle people. They wear no -weapons. They sit in the grass market and chatter and -smile over their basins of tea. The little pink doves of -the streets search between their bare feet for crumbs. -The wild birds of the desert build in the walls of their -houses and bazaars. On the top of the tower of every -other mosque is an immense storks’ nest, overlapping -the turret on all sides. Some of these nests must be -eight to ten feet high; they are round, and so look like -part of the design of the architecture. Storks are -encouraged to build there by the Mohammedans, by -whom they are held sacred. It is pleasant to watch -the bird itself, standing on one leg, a black but living -and moving silhouette against the sky; to listen to -the clatter of bills when the father stork suddenly flies -down to a nest with food.</p> - -<p>Bokhara is a sort of Mussulman perfection—there -is no progress to be obtained there except after the -destruction of old forms. The Bokharese keep to the -forms of their religion and its ethical laws; they wear<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> -their clothes correctly; they know their crafts. They -are a great contrast to the Russians, who are careless -and inexact, and in their worship often nonchalant to -their God; to the Russians, who wear nothing correctly -and come out in almost any sort of attire; to the -Russians, so ignorant and clumsy in their crafts. -Yet Russia has all before her, and Bokhara has all -behind her.</p> - -<p>The Bokharese have no ambition; civilisation and -mechanical progress do not tempt them. They have a -happy smile for everything that comes along, but -nothing moves them. A Russian motor-car comes -bounding over the cobbles, whooping and coughing its -alarm signals; a score of dogs try to set on it and bite -it as it passes, and the natives sit in their cupboard -shops and laugh. If the car stops, they do not collect -round it, as would a village of Caucasian tribesmen, for -instance. There was one Bokharian—a Sart, in full -cloak and turban—who rode a bicycle, an astonishing -exception.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_032.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">OUTSIDE ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS OF THE MOSQUES</p> - -<p>The Russians at present hold Bokhara very lightly, -but will no doubt tighten their hands on it later, as -they are taking the solidification of their Central Asian -Empire very seriously. At present there are no passports, -and there is mixed money; but passports are -coming in, and the banks are taking up all the ancient -Sartish bits they can get and giving Russian silver in -exchange. There are several Russian banks within the -city walls, and they have a great influence. The Emir -is friendly towards Russia, and is a pompous figure at -the Russian Court, though it is rumoured that in his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> -native palaces he whiles the long empty day away by -playing such elementary card games as <i>durak</i>, snap, -and happy family. The Russians have permission to -build schools in the city, and the Russian bricklayer is -to be seen at work with trowel and line, whilst the -native navvy carries the hod to and fro. The foreign -goods in the bazaar are mostly cotton, and if you -examine the splendidly gay prints that go to form the -clothing of the natives you find it is all marked Moscow -manufacture. The Bokharese merchants go to Nizhni -Fair not only to sell, but to buy. There are no -English in the streets, no tourists, no Americans. -Indeed, I asked myself once in wonder: Where are -the Americans? The only people in Western attire -are commercial travellers (<i>commerçants</i>), and they are -mostly Russians or Armenians, though Germans are -occasionally to be seen. I noticed knots of these men -discussing prices of horsehair, wool, oil-cake, carpets, -silks. It should be remembered that that district is -more justly famous for its carpets than for its silks. -The best carpets in the world are made by the -Tekintsi. Armenians, Turkomans and Persians work in -whole villages and settlements in Transcaspia making -carpets with needle and loom. They have the original -tradition of carpet-making, a sense for the particular -art of weaving those wonderful patterns of Persia, and -for them a carpet is not a covering on which it could -be possible to imagine a man walking with muddy -boots; it is for dainty naked feet in the harem, or it -is a whole picture to be hung on a wall, not thrown -on the floor. Singer’s sewing machines are, of course,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> -installed at Bokhara; they are in every town in the -wide world. The cinema also has come, and a green -poster announces that the Tango will be shown after -the presentation of a striking comedy called “The -Suffragette.”</p> - -<p>But what does this really matter? Let us ask the -deliberate stork, standing on one leg on the height of -the mosque of Lava-Khedei. The mosque tower has -a clock, and the stork seems to be trying to read the -time. But he will give no answer, nor will the Mussulmans -below; they also are scanning the wall to see if -it is nearer the hour to pray. And the clock, be it -observed, is not set by Petrograd time.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">IV<br /> - - -<small>MOHAMMEDAN CITIES AND MOHAMMEDANISM</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE consideration of the wonderful Moslem cities, -Constantinople, Cairo, Jerusalem and Bokhara, -with their marvellous blending of colours, their characteristic -covered ways and bazaars, their great spreads of -lace and silk and carpets, slippers, fezes, turbans, copper -ware, their gloomy stone ways and close courts, their -blind houses, made windowless that their women be not -seen, their great mosques and splendid tombs, inevitably -suggests a great question of the East. What is -Mohammedanism, what does it mean? At Cairo and -Jerusalem, and even at Constantinople, it is possible to -doubt the real nature of the Moslem world; it seems a -makeshift world giving way readily to Western influence, -or, in any case, reproved by the more splendid -and vital institutions of the West standing side by side -with many shabby and wretched phenomena of the -East.</p> - -<p>But Bokhara is a perfect place. It is much more -remote even than Delhi, and is almost untouched, -unaffected by Western life. It is a city of a dream, -and if a magician wished to transport some modern -Aladdin to a fairy city, where there would be nothing -recognisable and yet everything would be beautiful and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> -bewildering, he need only bring him to the walls of -Bokhara. Through Bokhara and its undisturbed peace -and beauty, one obtains a new vision of Mohammedanism, -and it becomes absurd to think that the real -Moslem world is of the same pattern as the Westernised -and yet strangely picturesque cities with which we are -familiar. We remember the fact that there are so many -millions more Mohammedans than there are Christians, -that they live off the railways, in deserts, in far away -and remote cities, that they journey on camels and in -caravans, and that to them their religion and way of -life are sufficient, that they do not seek new words or -inspiration, nor do they want time to do other things, -nor change of any kind. We remember their mystery, -their faith and loyalty, their superb detachment, their -state of being enough unto themselves, their playfulness, -audacity, hospitality, how they shine compared -with Christians in the keeping of the conventions of -their religion, their punctual piety, their pilgrimages, -and, with all that, their fixed and definite inferiority -of caste.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_036.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">A HOLIDAY AT SAMARKAND: BOYS OF THE MILITARY SCHOOL<br /> -PLAYING AMONG THE RUINS OF THE TOMB OF TAMERLANE</p> - -<p>Their pilgrimage to Mecca, which we are apt to -regard merely as something picturesque, is in reality -one of the most mysterious of human processions. -From Northern Africa, from Syria, from Turkey and -Armenia, from Turkestan, from the Chinese marches -(there are even Chinese Mohammedans, the Duncani), -from India, from the depths of Arabia and Persia—to -Mecca. Through Russia alone there travel annually -considerably more Moslems to Mecca than there do -Christian pilgrims to Jerusalem; and some of these<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> -Mohammedan pilgrims are the most outlandish pilgrims. -They are illiterate, simple, unremarked. They -do not possess minds which could understand our -modern Christian missionaries, and Russia, at least, has -no desire to proselytise among them. If the peoples of -the world could be seen as part of a great design of -embroidery on the garment of God, it would probably -be seen that Mohammedanism at the present moment -is part of the beauty of the pattern and the amazing -labyrinthine scheme. It is not a rent, not a disfigurement.</p> - -<p>Mahomet and the Mohammedans is not a subject to -dismiss, and when we look at those wondrous cities of -the East it is worth while remembering that we are -looking at a new image and superscription, and are in -the presence of people who own a different but none -the less true allegiance. As upon one of the planets -we might come across a different race that had not had, -and could not have, our revelation.</p> - -<p>Our prejudice as militant Christians, however, -ought necessarily to be against Mohammedans. They -have ever been our religious enemies in arms, the -Saracens, the Paynim, the Tartar hordes; we are -not very amicably disposed to those of our argumentative -brothers who, to show their independence -of thought, say they prefer Mohammedanism or -Buddhism or Confucianism or what not.</p> - -<p>In reading Carlyle’s “Heroes and Hero-worship” -there is a haunting feeling that it was a pity that -for the “Hero as Prophet” he chose Mahomet and -not Jesus, or that, choosing Mahomet, he had not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> -travelled in Mohammedan countries, investigating his -subject more thoroughly and giving a truer picture of -the significance of Mohammedanism and of the man -who founded it. The Mahomet section of “Heroes” -is like a note that does not sound. Heading the lecture -over again, one is struck with a new fact about Carlyle—his -insularity of intelligence. Despite the fact that -he is preoccupied with French and German history, you -notice his narrowness of vision, or perhaps it is that -the general vision of the world which men have now -was not so accessible in his day, and the differences in -national psychology now manifest were hidden in -obscurity then. Carlyle saw mankind as Scotsmen, and -all true religion whatsoever as a sort of Southern -Scottish Puritanism. He saw all national destinies in -one and the same type, without any conception of -fundamental differences of soul. He admired the -Germans, and the Germans adopted him and his -works. And he disliked the French because so few of -them had that “fixity of purpose” and “manliness,” -“thoroughness,” “grim earnestness” of his compatriots. -Russia was a very vague country, but Carlyle -approved of the Tsar, dimly discerning in him one who -must have something in common with Cromwell or -Frederick the Great, “keeping by the aid of Cossack -and cannon such a vast empire together.” And the -further his imagination ranges the more do his notions -of foreign peoples and races fail to correspond with -his patterns of humanity. Among the many other -destinies which Carlyle might have had and lived -through, one can imagine one wherein he travelled,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> -and found in real life what he sought in museums and -libraries. He would have been a wonderful traveller, -and would have known and shown more of the verities -and mysteries of the world than he was able to do -through the medium of history.</p> - -<p>Carlyle’s Mahomet is an example of old-fashioned -visions. It is clear now that this “deep-hearted Son of -the Wilderness, with his beaming black eyes and open -social deep soul,” was not that determined, conscientious -British sort of character that he is made out to -be, nor has Mohammedanism that Cromwellian earnestness -which Carlyle imputed to it.</p> - -<p>It is impossible to find in the Moslem soul “the -infinite nature of duty,” but we would not explain the -“gross sensual paradise” and the “horrible flaming -hell” of the Mohammedans by saying that to them -“Right is to Wrong as life is to death, as heaven to -hell. The one must nowise be done, the other in nowise -be left undone.” Mahomet and Mohammedanism are -not explainable in these terms.</p> - -<p>Probably the most common assumption in the West -is that Mohammedanism does not count. In its adherents -it greatly outnumbers Christianity, but not even -those who believe that the will of majorities should -prevail would recognise the Mohammedan majority. -For though more warlike than we, they have not our -weapons, and though they are finer physically, they -have not our helps to Nature, nor our civilisation, nor -our passion. They are apart, they are scarcely human -beings in our Western sense of the term, and are -negligible. Still, Mohammedanism is an extraordinary<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> -portent in the world. The Mohammedans, those many -millions, are not merely potential Christians, a set of -people remaining in error because our missionary enterprise -is not sufficient to bring them to the Light. It -is not an accident, or a makeshift religion, but evidently -a happy form suitable to the millions who embody it. -It is a poetically fitting religion, part of the very fibre -of the people who have it, and it cannot easily be got -rid of or supplanted.</p> - -<p>As enthusiastic Christians we consider the Moslem -world with some vexation; some of us even with malice -and a readiness to take arms against it. But as pleasure-seeking -tourists and worldly men and women, we rather -love the Turk and the Arab for his “picturesqueness,” -for the picturesqueness of his religion. As sportsmen, -we love him because he has the reputation of fighting -well.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_040.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">MOHAMMEDAN TOMBS AND RUINS IN THE YOUNGEST OF THE RUSSIAN COLONIES</p> - -<p>It was with a certain amount of dissatisfaction that -I fell into the hands of an Arab guide when I was in -Cairo, and was shown, first of all, the picturesque -mosques so beloved of tourists—the Mosque of Sultan -Hassan, the Alabaster Mosque, and so on. Not the -ancient Egyptian remains, which are the most significant -thing in Egypt; not the Early Christian ruins, -which are most dear to us (the old Christian monasteries -which the Copts possess seemed to be known by -none), but the mosques made of the stolen stones of -the Pyramids and of the tombs, and inlaid with the -jewels taken from ikon frames and rood-screens of the -first churches of Christianity. And as I listened to the -details of the blinding of the architects, the destruction<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> -of the Mamelukes, the fighting and the robbing, the -disparaging thought arose: “They are all a pack of -robbers, these Mohammedans.”</p> - -<p>They are robbers by instinct, and non-progressive -not only in life, but in ideas. But they are picturesque, -and have given to a considerable portion of the earth’s -face a characteristic quaintness and beauty. They -cannot be dismissed.</p> - -<p>Carlyle tries to see some light in the Koran, and -fails. Probably the Koran is translated in a wrong -spirit or to suit a British taste. But obviously it is -meant to be chanted, and it is full of rhythms with -which we are unfamiliar, as unfamiliar as we are with -the sobbing, plaintive, screaming music that is melody -in the Moslem’s ears. The soul of the Koran is not like -the soul of the Bible, just as the soul of a mediæval -Christian city such as Florence or Rome is unlike Khiva -or Bokhara or Samarkand, just as the souls of our eager -mystical populations are different from the souls of -those simple, satisfied and fatalistic people. It is not -easy to communicate the difference by words; it is not -merely a difference in clothes. It is a difference in the -spirit, a difference in the spirit that causes the expression -to be different, whether that expression be clothes, -or houses, or cities, or way of life, or music, or literature, -or prayer. And while our expression changes, -theirs remains the same. Our spirit remains the same, -theirs remains the same, but only with us does the -expression change.</p> - -<p>“God is great; we must submit to God,” is -Mohammedan wisdom. It is in a way a common<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> -ground—we must submit. But with the Mohammedan -there is a waiting for God’s will to be shown, whereas -with us rather a divination of it in advance. We are -alive to find out what God wills for us. After “Thy -will be done!” we put an exclamation mark and rejoice. -Mohammedanism is fatalism, but Christianity is not -fatalism.</p> - -<p>And if fatalism gives a tinge of melancholy to life, -especially to an unfortunate life, it still makes life -easier. It relieves the soul of care and takes a world of -responsibility off the shoulders. The Mohammedan is -a care-free being. He has, more than we have, the life -of a child.</p> - -<p>Consequently, one of the greatest characteristics of -Mohammedan people is playfulness. All is play to -them. They are playful in their attire, in their -business, in their fighting, in their talking. They buy -and sell, and make a great game of their buying and -selling. They lack “seriousness.” They are in no -hurry to strike a bargain and get ahead in trade. Their -instinct is for the game rather than for the business. -Hence the comparative poverty of the Tartars—the -most commercial people of the East. They are not -serious enough to get rich in our Western way. If -they would get really rich as a Western merchant is -rich, they must not waste time playing and haggling. -They fight well because they see the game in fighting. -Death is not so great a calamity to them as to us, for -life is not such a serious thing. They look on playfully -at suffering, and laugh to see men’s limbs blown away -by bombs. They like the gamble of modern warfare.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> -And, of course, they were warriors and robbers before -they were Mohammedans. Fighting is one of their -deepest instincts, and as they do not change with time -as we do, they have an almost anachronistic love of -battle. They are fond of weapons as of toys, fingering -blades and laughing, guffawing at the sight of cannon. -They love steamboats and battleships as children love -toy steamboats, and they sail them on the waters of the -Levant as children would their toys. Their hospitality -is mirthful, as are also their murders and their -massacres. Their heaven and hell are playful conceptions.</p> - -<p>The condition of their remaining children is -obedience to the simple laws of their religion. These -obeyed, they are free of all troubles. And they obey. -Hence, from Delhi to Cairo and from Kashgar to Constantinople, -a playful and sometimes mischievous and -difficult world. Looking at the great cities, with their -quaint figures and their chaffering, their elfish spires -and minarets, their covered ways and gloomy and -mysterious passages; looking at this city of Bokhara, -with its covered ways crowded with these children-merchants -and children-purchasers, their beggars, -tombs, shrines, we must remember it is all a children’s -contrivance, something put together by a -people who do not grow up and do not grow serious -as we do—mysterious yet simple, fierce yet childlike, -valorous and yet amused by suffering, Islam, the -enemy of the Church in arms, to this day.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">V<br /> - - -<small>THE HISTORY OF THE TRIBES</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">FROM Bokhara I proceeded to Samarkand, the -grave of Timour. Turkestan has four great cities -remaining in splendour from the most remote times—Bokhara, -Khiva, Samarkand, and Tashkent. Alexander -the Great conquered most of this territory and established -himself at Samarkand for winter quarters, but -there are few traces of Alexander to-day. In his day -the land was inhabited by tribes who had come out of -the Pamir—Persians, Indians, Tadzhiks. There were -also primeval nomads, with their tents and their herds, -a people something like the Jews when they were simply -the Children of Israel, when they were a <i>family</i>. There -were possibly hordes of Jews, as there were hordes of -Tartars and Mongols. At the time of the shepherd -dynasty of Egypt the peoples of the East were living -in patriarchal families, resembling in a way the families -of the Kirghiz in Central Asia to-day.</p> - -<p>For the ethnologist Central Asia is necessarily one -of the most interesting districts of the world, and its -inhabitants are like living specimens in a great ethnological -museum. The races there tell us more about -the past of the world in which we are interested than -any pages in the history book. Here we may feel what -the Children of Israel were, the Egyptians, the Syrians,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> -the Persians, the Turks, the Russians. We see the -destiny of Rome, the destiny of the Church of Christ, -of Christianity, of barbarism.</p> - -<p>Not that there are many pure or clear types of -historical races in Central Asia to-day. The land has -been a running ground for fierce tribes coming out of -China and Manchuria, coming from the mysterious and -vague regions of the Pamir and Thibet. The Kirghiz -to-day exhibit every shade of difference between the -Mongol and the Turk.</p> - -<p>After the Greeks of Alexander came the first -ferocious Huns. To the Greeks what is now Russia -and Siberia, Seven Rivers Land and Russian Central -Asia was vaguely Scythia. They fumbled northward -and eastward as in a great darkness, and they were -rather afraid to go on. Yet we know that even before -the records of Greek history there was an Eastern trade -on the Volga and from the Caspian to the Baltic. The -merchants of Persia and India traded with the Russia -of those days. The Persians ruled from the Oxus to -the Danube, and in the wilderness stretching from the -Oxus to the Great Wall of China dwelt the primeval -nomads.</p> - -<p>South of the Altai Mountains was the fount of the -mysterious Huns who, some centuries before the birth -of Christ, ravaged China to the Pacific and extended -their dominion northward, down the Irtish River to -the <i>tundra</i> of the Arctic Circle. These were not a -Mongol people, but Turkish, though eventually they -were beaten by the Tartars, and the Mongolian and -Turkish tended to blend. The reason for their turning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> -westward was an eventual failure against China. The -Chinese built their fifteen-hundred-mile wall against -the Huns, but the wall did not avail them; they were -beaten, and were forced to pay an enormous tribute of -silk, gold, and women. Then the Chinese reorganised -their armies, turned upon their enemies, and crushed -them. Their monarch became a vassal of the Emperor. -Fifty-eight hordes entered the service of China—a -horde was about four thousand men. The remainder -of the Huns, coming to the conclusion that China -was too strong for them, resolved to fight somewhere -else, and set off westward towards the Oxus and -the Volga. They expended themselves on the eastern -shores of the Volga, where they remain to this day as -the Kalmeeks. Visitors to the Southern Ural and the -district of Astrakhan will have pointed out to them -the Kalmeeks, a low-browed, broad-nosed type of -men, sun-browned, wizened, and squat, the ugliest in -Russia; these are the original Huns, ferocious in their -day, very peaceful and stupid now, and below even -the level of the Kirghiz in intelligence.</p> - -<p>The chief Turkish tribes to-day are the Yakuts, on -the Lena, the Kirghiz, the Uzbeks, of whom there -are a considerable number in Bokhara and Khiva, the -Turkomans, and Osmanli, the Turks themselves, and -they have all something of the Hun about them. -Their history is Hunnish history. A deformed and -brutal people were the hordes of the Huns; there -were many cripples among them and people of distorted -features, many dwarfs. They were the cruellest people -that have ever been, and probably that is why they have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> -such a name for ugliness. Cruelty and ugliness of -feature go together. Even the most refined torturers -of the Spanish Inquisition must have been ugly. There -is something terrifying in the aspect of cruelty. It is -an aspect of mania, and when it comes out in the race -must be called racial mania or aberration.</p> - -<p>Successive hordes of pagans rolled forward, and the -story of each forward movement of this kind is the same. -Each wave, however, seemed to roll farther than the -one before and gather in power and volume to the -point where it multitudinously broke. The Asiatic -heathen were soon over the Volga and across Russia; -it was they who set the North German tribes moving -and gave an impetus to the plundering and ransacking -of the Western world. They astonished even -the Goths by their ferocity and ugliness, and in -<span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 376 the Goths had to appeal to the Romans -for protection. The Emperor Valens delayed to -answer, and a million Goths crossed the Danube and -began the conquest of Roman territory. The Huns -joined with the Alani, a wild Finnish tribe supposed -by some to be the present Ossetini of the Northern -Caucasus, and together they obtained glimpses of the -splendour of the South and came into touch with the -people who would ultimately give them their religion—the -Saracens.</p> - -<p>Away in the background of Central Asia, however, -Mongol tribes were falling on those Huns who had -remained behind and ever setting new hordes going -westward, and the impact from China was felt all -the way to Germany, and hordes of barbarians<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> -began to appear before the gates of Rome itself. -Soon the Goths burned the capital of the world -(<span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 410). A quarter of a century later the Huns -found a new leader in Attila (<span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 438-453), and -became once more the scourge and terror of all -existent civilisation. The Huns of Attila were not -just the old Huns who came out of Mongolia and -fought with the Chinese, but a mixture of all the -Turkish tribes of the East. They worshipped the -sword, stuck in the ground, and prayed before it as -others prayed before the Cross. Attila claimed to have -discovered the actual sword of the God Mars, and -through the possession claimed dominion over the whole -world. He conquered Russia and Germany, Denmark, -Scandinavia, the islands of the Baltic. He crushed the -Chinese and Tartars who were afflicting the rearguard -of his nation in the depths of Asia, negotiating on equal -terms with the Emperor of China. He traversed Persia -and Armenia and what is now Turkey in Asia, broke -through to Syria, and, in alliance with the Vandals, -took possession of “Africa.” His followers crossed the -Mediterranean, devastating the cities of Greece, Italy, -and Gaul. Rome abandoned her Eastern Empire to -the Huns in <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 446; and, after Attila’s death, the -Vandals, a people of Slavonic origin, sacked Rome once -more. Western civilisation seemed to be extinguished, -and a barbarian became King of Italy.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_048.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">A MOHAMMEDAN FESTIVAL AT SAMARKAND—THE HOUR OF PRAYER</p> - -<p>What was happening in Central Asia is but -vaguely known. The people who lived on the horse -at the time of Herodotus still lived on the horse as -they do at this day, on mare’s milk, koumis, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> -horseflesh, camping amidst great herds of horses, the -same breed as the Siberian ponies which the Cossacks -ride now. There were feuds of the hordes, raids, -massacres; the Chinese are said to have attempted to -introduce Buddhism, though without much success. -There was much intermarriage of Turks and Mongols. -On the other hand, the conquering Huns returned -with wives of the races of the West, and with a -smattering of Western ideas, bringing even with them -the name of Christianity, and some Christian ideas. -Christians began to appear in the ranks of the -pagans.</p> - -<p>In the seventh century Mahomet was born, and -the characteristic religion of the East took its start, -and was soon conquering adherents by the sword; -armies of Arabs and Semitic tribes, initiating the -propaganda of Islam, conquered Persia, Syria, and -portions of Northern Africa and of Spain. In the -eighth century they crossed the Oxus, drove hordes -of Huns back into the depths of Asia, captured the -rich cities of Bokhara and Samarkand, and made -Mohammedans of all the people all the way to the -Indus. So Uzbeks and Turkomans and Kirghiz and -Afghans and the others obtained a religion which -suited their temperament, and there was comparative -peace and trade throughout all Turkestan and Persia -for many a long year. The next great disturbance -was caused by the ferment of the Tartars and the -mongrel Mongolian Huns, which came to a head -under the leadership of Chingiz Khan (<span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 1206-1227), -who was the next conqueror of the world springing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> -out of Asia. He made for himself an enormous -empire, extending from the Sea of Japan to the River -Nieman in Germany, and from the <i>tundras</i> of the Arctic -Circle to the wastes of India and Mesopotamia. There -were in his army idolaters and Judaic, Mohammedan, -and Christian converts. He was the Emperor of the -“Moguls”—the word Mogul is the same as Mongol. -Among his feats he laid siege to Pekin, and starved the -Chinese to such a point that they were forced to kill -and eat every tenth man within the city. He conquered -Bokhara and Samarkand again, crushed the Russians -and the Poles, took Liublin and Cracow, and, at the -battle of Lignitz, defeated the Germans, filling nine -sacks with the right ears of the slain. Because of -Chingiz Khan all Western Europe trembled.</p> - -<p>The manners of the hordes of Chingiz Khan and -his successors were very like the manners of the old -Huns, and they also brought their flocks with them, -and lived on roast sheep and roast horse and koumis -as the majority of the dwellers of Central Asia seem -to have ever lived.</p> - -<p>The splendour of the successors of Chingiz Khan -decayed, and Russia and the East gasped and waited -till Asia produced another monster—a new conqueror -of the world. In the fourteenth century he arose, the -worst of all, Tamerlane the Great, called Timour the -Lame, who conquered everything that had ever been -conquered before by Tartar or Hun. Under him -Mohammedanism reached a great splendour and came -nearest to world-domination.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_050.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">CENTRAL ASIAN JEWESSES</p> - -<p>Both Bokhara and Samarkand fell to Tamerlane.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> -He conquered great stretches of Persia, Syria, Turkey, -the Caucasus, India, Russia and Siberia, besieged -Moscow and Delhi in two successive years, dethroned -twenty-seven kings, harnessed kings to his chariot -instead of horses.</p> - -<p>I spent the May of this year in what is particularly -the land of Tamerlane, a sort of Russian -India on the northern side of Hindu Kush, a country -with a majestic past but with little present. Tamerlane -the Tartar was once Emperor of Asia, and a -potentate of greater fame than Alexander. At the -head of the Tartar hordes he conquered all the nations -of the East and ravaged every land, committing everywhere -deeds of splendour and of barbaric cruelty. The -cruelty that is in the Cossack and the Russian, and the -taste for barbaric splendour, comes directly from his -Tartars. But the greatness of the Tartars has passed -away—they are all tradesmen and waiters to-day—and -the greatness of the Russians has come about—they are -all soldiers. “Is it not touching?” said a Russian to -me one day at dinner in a Petersburg restaurant, -pointing at the perfect Tartar waiters. “These people -under whose yoke we were are really stronger and -more terrible than we are, but they are now our -servants, waiters, valets. If we had become Mohammedans, -the Tartars would still be greater than we. -It is the Christian idea that has triumphed in us.”</p> - -<p>There stand among the deserts of Turkestan and -beside the irrigated cotton fields of a new civilisation, -the remains and ruins of a mediæval glory, the -mosques and tombs and palaces of the days of Timour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> -and of his loved wife, Bibi Khanum. The Russians are -not touched by archæology, and have no interest in -pagans, even splendid pagans. English people have -considerable difficulty in obtaining permission to enter -the country. So Tamerlane is little thought of. But -in England, in the fifteenth and fourteenth centuries, -he had a tremendous fame—you feel that fame in -Marlowe’s great drama:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Holla, ye pampered jades of Asia!</div> -<div class="verse">What, can ye draw but twenty miles a day,</div> -<div class="verse">And have so proud a chariot at your heels</div> -<div class="verse">And such a coachman as great Tamerlane?</div> -</div></div> - -<p>Shakespeare burlesqued this through the mouth of -Pistol:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="indent6">Shall packhorses</div> -<div class="verse">And hollow pamper’d jades of Asia,</div> -<div class="verse">Which cannot go but thirty miles a day,</div> -<div class="verse">Compare with Cæsars, and with Cannibals,</div> -<div class="verse">And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with</div> -<div class="verse">King Cerberus.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>England’s opinion was the same as Pistol’s, and -the grandeur of Tamerlane was forgotten. Yet in -two successive years he conquered India and Eastern -Russia. He wore what was traditionally held to be -the armour of King David. And, to-day, who so -poor as to do him reverence? Only the beautiful -name of Timour and the ruins of his tombs and -mosques remain, giving a strange atmosphere of -mystery and melancholy to the youngest of Russian -colonies.</p> - -<p>It is possible now to linger in the romantic idea<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> -of all the splendour that has passed away, and to feel -a strange beauty in Samarkand. I remember reading -some years ago a beautiful prose poem in modern -“impressionist” style, written by Zoe Pavlovska, -who is, I suppose, a Russian—perhaps a Cossack. It -was the story of pilgrimage to the tomb of Tamerlane’s -most loved princess:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>I shall go to the tomb of the Emperor’s daughter. It -will be night, but a night when the moon is full; its clear -light will guide me through the mazes of the streets of the -city. These will be narrow. At dark corners I shall be -afraid—muffled forms will glide past me in the deep shadows -of the walls.</p> - -<p>Now and then a light will shine from some open window. -I shall stop and hear the chanting of poems, and will wait -to listen, swaying in time with the rhythm.</p> - -<p>I shall hear——</p> - -<p>“Who will converse with me now that the yellow camels -are gone? There is no friend for the stranger, save the -stranger.”</p> - -<p>Then I shall creep out of the town by a turquoise-tiled -gate. There they will ask me, “Where do you go?” I -shall answer, showing them my box of jade, “I go to the -tomb of Bibi Khanum, to lay this at her feet.” I will -then show them the flower in my box.</p> - -<p>When I have reached the place I shall stand below the -broken arches, and will see that they are bluer than the -blue night sky beyond them; the moon will make strange -shadows. It will seem as if giant warriors are guarding -her. Coming to the place where her body lies I shall say, -“O beloved of Timour”—he who sleeps under a deep -green sea of jade—“I have brought for you a flower.” -Then, though in a cloudless sky, the moon will slowly hide -herself, the purple shadows will lengthen till all is black -save where she lies; there each jewel on her tomb will<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> -glow into its own colour, as if lighted from within, and by -this faint light I shall see the pale hands and faces of four -Tartar warriors who will lift the stone which covers her. -As they put it on the ground they will once more become -one with the darkness.</p> - -<p>“Brothers, I am afraid; stay near me.” Thus shall I -cry to them. There will be no answer, only a silence made -more desolate by the continuous throbbing round of a distant -drum. Slowly from the mingled light of the jewels -a form will rise in garments of the colour of ripe pomegranates -worked with flowers in gold; some apple-green -ribbons will fall from her shoulder, and under her breasts -will be a sash of vivid crimson. She will wear on her head -a crown of jewels and flowers and dull gold leaves; jade -and amethyst drops will fall from this crown on either side -of her face, which will be painted tulip-pink and her lips -scarlet; her eyes will be rimmed with black jewels ground -into powder.</p> - -<p>Then, gazing at her, I shall lay at her feet the flower -from my garden, and, smiling, she will give me an amber -poppy. She will say, looking into my eyes, “You ask -for sleep—I would give my eternity of slumber for one -moment of that sorrow I called life.”</p> -</div> - -<p>The Great War of to-day makes the past more -melancholy, and, as the centuries roll out with -ever newer sorrows and calamities and strifes, the -faces in history seem paler, sadder. The twilight of -oblivion deepens. The history of man becomes more -melancholy.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">VI<br /> - - -<small>TO TASHKENT</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE country east of Samarkand is much greener -than the country west of it. It was interesting -to note that the farther east I went from the shores -of the Caspian the less did the desert predominate. -There was abundant life on the plains; many horses -grazing, many camels carrying grey marble for -the building of new palaces, many sheep. At the -railway stations were Sarts, Kirghiz, Afghans, occasional -Hindus, Jews—not Russian Jews, but polygamous -Eastern Jews, a rich, secluded, conservative -tribe, who will not own their Russian brethren or sit -down with them at meat—at least, so a Jew in the -train informed me.</p> - -<p>Samarkand is outside the protectorate of Bokhara, -and takes its stand now as a city of the Russian -Empire. It is also a great Mohammedan centre, as -much by tradition and history as by present fact; but -it is now completely under Russian influence, and the -future which it has is one which will show itself more -and more purely Russian. Already there are 25,000 -Russians there. The city is divided by one long -boulevard into two parts, native and Russian, and it -may be surmised that the present state of Samarkand -foreshadows the future state of Bokhara, and that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> -those three or four houses which form the Russian -part of Bokhara will at length find themselves the -centre of a great Russian city, standing face to face -with the Eastern and ancient town. What a history -has Samarkand, both in legend and in history! It -was founded by a fabulous person in 4000 <span class="allsmcap">B.C.</span>, but -only emerged into history as a place conquered by -Alexander of Macedon. It was successively conquered -by the various monarchs of the Huns and the Tartars -and by proselytising Arabs and by the Uzbeks, and -at last by the Russians in 1868. Its whole history is -one of being conquered. Its people to-day are the -most gentle in the world, wear no weapons, commit -no violence, never even seem to get angry—I refer, -of course, to the native Sarts.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_056.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">FINE-LOOKING SARTS IN OLD TASHKENT</p> - -<p>A fine chain of cities—Askhabad, Merv, Bokhara, -Samarkand, Tashkent—and strange to realise them to -be all on the railway and in direct economic communication -with Europe; it is possible to take a train -from Petersburg to Tashkent, or to Bokhara, or to -the Persian frontier without change. During the -week in which I was at Bokhara and Samarkand work -was begun on the new railway which is to run from -Tashkent to Kuldzha, in Chinese Tartary, and in a -little while, perhaps, we may see an agreement made -and work begun in the construction of the railway to -India through Persia. Russia, stopped in the Far East -by the emergence of modern Japan, and thwarted in -the Balkans, seemed in the time just before the -Great War to be concentrating her attention on what -may be called the Middle East. How open Europe<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> -is becoming to the East, and how easy of access is -the East becoming to us! The friendship of English -and Russians in Central Asia must mean a larger, -stronger life for both Empires. And the development -of Asia can mean much to the home Russians; they, -as we, are inclined to take their own land and their -capital cities as the only places of interest in the -world. Already, reading some of the Moscow and -Petersburg newspapers, you may alter Kipling’s -phrase and ask: “What do they know of Russia -who only Moscow know?”</p> - -<p>Tashkent is the capital of Russian Central Asia, -and is a well-built city extending over an enormous -area. It occupies a space something like a fifth of -that which London occupies. There is no crowding -anywhere. The houses, for fear of earthquakes, have -in no case more than two storeys, and seldom that. -There are many public gardens, where you may sit -at white-spread tables and drink <i>narzan</i> or koumis in -the dense shade of thickly foliaged trees. Tashkent -is a city on an oasis. It has wonderful vegetation. -Along all the streets run brisk streams of fresh water, -conducted on the irrigation system from the river. -There is a noise all day and all night of running -water, so that if you wake in the hush of night and -listen to it, you may imagine for a moment that you -are living in a village among hills aleak with thousands -of cascades and rivulets. How useful is this water-supply -to Tashkent! There is no need for water-carts; -strong natives are employed with buckets to -scoop water from the streams and fling it across the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> -cobbles all day. So effectual is their work that there -is never a whiff of dust, and, indeed, it is occasionally -necessary to wear galoshes, the streets having been -made so muddy. The streams freshen the air, keep -down the dust, give life to the lofty poplars of the -many avenues, and they are the convenient element -for thousands of Mohammedans to wash in before -saying their prayers. The streams make the town -into the country. As you walk down the pavemented -High Street, and look in at the truly fine shops of -Tashkent, your attention may still be diverted by the -dainty water wagtail that is nesting near by, and as -you wait for the electric tram you observe the small -heath butterfly flitting along, as much at home as -upon the mountains. At night, whilst all the Russians, -in white clothes, parade up and down and gossip, and -the moon looks down from above the gigantic trees of -the gardens and the main streets, the streams still -take attention, for there proceeds from them a tumultuous, -everlasting, raging chorus of frog-calling.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_058.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">OUTSIDE A GERMAN SHOP IN OLD TASHKENT</p> - -<p>Up the many long streets from the old town -to the new come strings of gentle-looking camels—low-backed, -single-humped, long-necked camels, with -sometimes as many as twenty necklaces of blue beads -from below their ears. The horses, too, are much -adorned with carpet cloths and coloured strings that -keep the flies away. The high-wheeled carts of Bokhara -have become too common in Tashkent to attract attention. -Altogether, indeed, the Orient strikes one -less romantically here than in Bokhara. The native -population of 200,000 is very dirty and disorderly; the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> -women, behind their veils, not nearly so strict or so -careful; the houses not so well kept—all in dirt and -ruin. On the roofs of the mosques are thousands of -red poppies in bloom, and occasionally the crane’s -nest is to be seen on the tops of the towers whence -the muezzin calls to prayer. There are booths of -coppersmiths and carpet-makers and silk-workers, and -caravanserai where all manner of picturesque Moslems -are to be seen lying on divans and carpets or squatting -over basins of tea; but all is second-hand and -down-at-heel after Bokhara. With the coming of the -Russians the angel of death has breathed on all that -was once the grandeur of the Orient at Tashkent. -Once there were no Russians in the land, and then -what is now old Tashkent was the only Tashkent; it -was a great Moslem city that could be pointed to -geographically as such. But as the fine Russian -streets were laid down, and the large shops opened, -and the cathedrals were built, and the gardens laid -out, the old uphill-and-down-dale labyrinth of the -Eastern city slowly changed to a curiosity and an -anachronism. It faded before the eyes. The next -year the Russians were to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary -of the conquest of the town—only the fiftieth! -Poor old Tashkent, slipping into the sere and yellow -leaf, passing away even as one looked, always decreasing -whilst the new town is always increasing—there -is much pathos in its destiny.</p> - -<p>The natives are mostly Sarts, an absolutely -unambitious people, honest, quiet, sober. Scarcely -any crime ever takes place among them. A week<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> -in the year they are said to go off on a spree and get -rid of the sin in them. For the rest of the time -they are like lambs. They are uninterested in everything -except small deals in the wares they make or -sell. Their wives have rings in their nostrils for -adornment—so I observed when the sun shone brightly -on their black veils. A strange sight the electric -tram which goes from the old town to the new and -back again—crowded with men in white turbans and -long robes and with Eastern women in their veils.</p> - -<p>The foundation of the society of new Tashkent is -laid by the regiments quartered there, and the fine -shops exist chiefly for the custom of officers and their -wives. A Grand Duke, who was banished for giving -a Crown jewel to a favourite lady, lives here in -exile, but he is an aged man now and receives few -guests. High official personages constantly visit the -colony, and consequently stay at Tashkent. The -whole atmosphere is military, and there is an unusual -smartness everywhere. Especially do you notice how -well dressed the women are at the theatres and in -the gardens, and the men accompanying them nearly -all wear the sword. The middle-class Russian is out -of sight, and the peasant labourer is rare, owing to -the fact that the Sarts work at 9d. a day, but the -Russian at 1s. or 1s. 3d. There is, however, a dandy -Armenian element; young hawkers and shoeblacks -and barbers who appear in the evening in white -collars and cheap serges, with combed locks under -felt hats, with canes in their hands.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_060.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">TASHKENT: A FOOTBALL MATCH AT THE COLLEGE</p> - -<p>Tashkent has now many schools, from the important<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> -Corpus, the military college where officers’ sons -are educated, to the little native school where the -Russian schoolmaster tries to give Russian to the Sart. -I visited the splendid military school, and was only -sorry to be too late in the season to see an hour of -Russian football, the game being very popular with -the boys. Most of the professors at this school are -officers, and I met a charming staff-captain who had -known several English correspondents during the war -in Manchuria. The teacher of French gave me some -interesting photographs.</p> - -<p>There are six cinema shows at Tashkent, two -theatres, an open-air theatre, a skating rink, and many -small diversions. The native turns up in the cinema, -and there are generally long lines of turbaned figures -in the front of the theatre. At the real theatres it is -necessarily those who know Russian who take the seats. -At the open-air theatre they play <i>The Taming of the -Shrew</i>, at the Coliseum the <i>Doll’s House</i> and Artsibasheff’s -<i>Jealousy</i>. The town has two newspapers, -and on the day on which I arrived I found that the -leading article of the <i>Courier of Turkestan</i> was entitled -“The State of Affairs in Ulster.” All Europe seemed -to have its eyes on our politics, and Europe extends -now as far east as Tashkent, though it is of “Central -Asia” that that city claims to be the capital.</p> - -<p>A wonderful place Tashkent. Cherries ripen there -by the 1st of May, strawberries are seven copecks a -pound in mid-May. Everything ripens three weeks -earlier than in Russia proper. It is a fresh, fragrant -city—an interesting curiosity among the cities of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> -world. The Russians have in it a city worth possessing. -It must be said they have done their best to -possess it, not merely in the letter of the law, but -by improving it and governing it and giving it a -Russian atmosphere. Despite camels and mosques, -and natives in their turbans, and the sad call of the -muezzin, you feel all the time as you go up and -down the streets of Tashkent that you are in Russia.</p> - -<p>The Kaufmann Square is, I suppose, the noblest -position in the new city, all the avenues and prospects -being used to frame the monument which -stands there. This is the statue of General Kaufmann, -who took possession of the land for the -Russians. On one side of the monument is a fierce, -dark, enormous, two-headed eagle in stone. But -between its claws this year a dove had its nest. -From behind the eagle General von Kaufmann stands -and looks over his new-conquered country. On the -other side of the monument there is the following -inscription:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“I pray you bury me here that everyone may know that -here is true Russian earth in which no Russian need be -ashamed to lie.”</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>From a letter of</i> <span class="smcap">General Kaufmann</span>, 1878.)</p> -</div> - -<p>Rather interesting that this should be said by a -Russian with a German name.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">VII<br /> - - -<small>THE RUSSIAN CONQUEST</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE Russian princes, Yaroslaf Vsevolodovitch -and his son, Alexander Nevsky, did homage to -the Mongol khans in the thirteenth century. Timour -brought back thousands of Russian slaves after his -conquests, and Russia lay under the yoke of the -Tartars. The Empire of Asia lasted only a little -while in the hands of the dynasty of Tamerlane, and -the Uzbek and the Kirghiz Cossacks appeared, waging -a holy war for Islam. At the present moment there -are one million Uzbeks in the province of Bokhara, -three hundred and fifty thousand in Khiva, and five -hundred thousand spread over the rest of Russian -Turkestan, and a sprinkling in Afghanistan. The -Uzbeks formed three kingdoms, Bokhara, Khiva, and -Kokand. The Emirs of these states are to this day -Uzbeks, but are now little more than Russian civil -servants. A dependence of Kokand was Pamir, where -the Karakirghiz wandered with their flocks—people -now wandering on the Thian Shan mountains in -Ferghan and Seven Rivers Land, also in parts of -Sirdaria and Eastern Turkestan. The Kirghiz Cossacks -came south from what is now the Akmolinsk -Steppe in Siberia. This race, a sort of mongrelisation -of Huns and Tartars, diffused itself over the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> -whole desert from Lake Balkhash to the Ural. In -the seventeenth century they were an organised and -powerful nation, with a Khan at Tashkent; but in -the succeeding century there was faction and dissension, -and the nation divided off into three large -hordes. The great horde went to Seven Rivers Land -in the Northern Ural, the middle horde to the -Steppes of Akmolinsk, and the little horde to Sirdaria -and the Ural. From that day their military -spirit seems to have steadily waned. To-day they are -as peaceful as their herds. During the years 1846 to -1854, the Russians began to penetrate the deserts of -Seven Rivers Land and take the Kirghiz over as -subjects. There was very little actual fighting till -the Russians came into contact with the Uzbeks of -Kokand, whom, however, they fought and overthrew -with considerable slaughter. Vemey fell in 1854, Pishpek -and Tokmak in 1862. Then the Russians turned -westward, and took Aulie Ata, Chimkent, and Tashkent. -In 1867 Seven Rivers Land was made into a -Russian province, and the stream of Russian colonisation -turned out of Siberia southward toward India.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_064.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">PLEASANT COUNTRY OUTSIDE TASHKENT</p> - -<p>One stream of colonists was moving southward -from Siberia, another was moving eastward from the -Volga. One observes the rise of the Russian power. -In the sixteenth century the Russian had begun to -take the upper hand, and Kazan and Astrakhan, -though predominantly Tartar cities, fell to the -assaults of Christian arms. In the eighteenth century -the peasant colonists had already come into contact -with the Kirghiz Cossacks, and boundary lines had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -to be drawn. Orenburg fell into Russian hands in -1748, and peaceful penetration followed military -success. In 1847 the great horde of the Kirghiz -became Russian subjects, and all the races of Central -Asia began to talk about the coming advance of the -Russians and the need to fight them. The Russian -war of conquest was consummated in the East. -From Tashkent the Russians proceeded to make war -on the Bokharese. In vain did the Emir of Bokhara -demand the evacuation of Tashkent by the Russians. -In 1866 the Bokharese were defeated at the battle of -Irdzhar, and Khodzkent was taken by storm. After -heavy fighting with Uzbeks and Turkomans and great -slaughter of the Mohammedans, they approached -Samarkand, which at last they occupied at the invitation -of the inhabitants. In 1868 a treaty was made -between the Emir of Bokhara and the Tsar, whereby -Samarkand and district passed to Russia.</p> - -<p>In 1869 a Russian army crossed the Caspian and -laid siege to Krasnovodsk, and attempts were made -to push across the desert along the northern frontier -of Persia. The Turkomans, however, offered an heroic -resistance, and it was not until 1880, when Skobelef -was given charge of the task of subduing the tribes, -that Russia made progress. At the beginning of -December, 1880, the army of Turkestan, under -Colonel Kuropatkin, made over five hundred miles -progress across the flying sands and took the fortress -of Dengil-Tepe. Askhabad was taken, and all the -fortified points in Transcaspia. Transcaspia was made -into a Russian province in 1881.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>In 1884 there was a short struggle, and then -the ancient city of Merv fell into Russian hands, -and the English began to view the Russian progress -with uneasiness. There was even such a word coined -as “mervousness,” and Russophobes had Merv on the -brain. It must be admitted we were rather backward -not to treat with the Russians and obtain definite -trade treaties at that time. For we lost and Germany -gained a great deal of trade which we might -still have retained.</p> - -<p>Bokhara and Khiva came under Russian protection. -The Central Asian Railway was built, and -Russia became the most important Power in the -Moslem world of Central Asia, owning as subjects so -many millions of Kirghiz, Sarts, Uzbeks, Turkomans, -Tekintsi, Tartars, and being neighbours of Turks, -Persians, Afghans and what not. Never was such a -stretch of territory, so many new subjects, or so -much trade and interest won with so little trouble. -It was won almost by military processions. It must -be remembered that it could not have been held, nor -would Russia have any real footing there to-day, but -for the peasant pioneers who followed the armies and -began settling the land. And the peasants would -not have remained if the Government of Russia -had not helped them with loans, found them -suitable plots for their villages, and irrigated the -desert.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_066.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">HEARTY SHEPHERDS: ALL KIRGHIZ</p> - -<p>Now Turkestan and Russian Central Asia are -extremely loyal, peaceful and happy Russian colonies. -Rebellion was put down with such severity by the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> -Russians, the defeats were with such slaughter, that -the Asiatic tribesmen learned that Russia was too -powerful to be trifled with; they knew they had -found their masters, and submitted absolutely. The -Russians overcowed their spirits, they felt there was -some magic power behind them, and that human -resistance was vain. Then fear gave way to placid -acceptance of mastery, and the Russians began building -churches and schools and fortresses and barracks, -shops, towns, villages, and no one said them nay. -Trade passed into the hands of Russian merchants, -and new towns sprang up beside the old ones—new -Bokhara beside old Bokhara, new Tashkent beside old -Tashkent, and the Moslems saw unveiled the will of -God. They could not have been a very warlike -people really. They are not like the Mohammedans -under our rule or the Turks, though it is quite possible -that if, as a result of this war, a great quantity of -Armenia and Turkey fell into Russian hands, the -Mohammedans there would accept their fate as destiny -and settle down to live as peacefully as their fellow-believers -of Russian Central Asia. These are meek. -During the past winter the Germans have been -endeavouring to stir up Islam to fight England, -France and Russia. Germany and Turkey have found -a common ground. The Arabs in Mesopotamia are -fighting a holy war against us. Persia has wavered; -there has been ferment in India, there might have -been a rising in Afghanistan, but there has been no -chance of a rising of those Mohammedans who are -Russian subjects. All the aborigines of Russian<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> -Central Asia are devoted to peace, and none have -any quarrel with the Russian Empire.</p> - -<p>Russia, of course, has considerable control over -her Mohammedan subjects because of the railways. -The development of the lines in Central Asia has -undoubtedly been a wise Imperial measure on Russia’s -part, and they are the best fruits of her conquest. The -construction afforded certain interesting engineering -problems, though it may be remarked that Russian -engineers generally succeed in building railways over -plains, even over deserts, but fail when they come to -mountains.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_068.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">THE RUSSIAN TEACHER: A NATIVE SCHOOL IN TASHKENT</p> - -<p>The Central Asian Railway had for its original -object the pacification of the Tekintsi, and was a -strategic line from the Transcaspian post of Krasnovodsk -to the oasis of Kizil Arvat. It was built -over the desert, and was at first regarded as of a -temporary military character. It cannot now be -regarded as a well-built railway, is very loose, and -trains are forced to go very slowly, and it is constantly -in danger of sand obstruction through storms. -In the progress of the military operations against the -Tekintsi, Geok-Tepe was stormed in January, 1881, -and the first train went through to Kizil Arvat in -December of the same year. Kizil Arvat remained -the terminus until the fray with the Afghans, on -March 30th, 1885, when the prolongation was undertaken -seriously. In June, 1885, the Tsar decided -to continue the railway towards the frontier of -Afghanistan, and by December 11th, 1885, the -Russian military railway gangs had taken the rails<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> -136 miles on to Askhabad, at the northern limit of -Persia. Merv was annexed, the rails went on to -Merv. By December, 1886, the railway had gone -on to Chardzhui, on the Oxus. The red river was -bridged, and the railway went on to Bokhara and -Samarkand. A state service of steamers was started -on the Oxus between Chardzhui and Khiva. In -1888 the completion of the line to Samarkand was -celebrated, and the railway was consecrated with -ecclesiastical pomp. The Russians have always given -the impression that they did not intend to develop -their railways, and yet they have gone on developing -them all the same. They have gone south from Merv -to the River Kush, on the Afghanistan frontier, and -east from Khodgent to Andigan and Kokand. They -have brought a main line from Petrograd, by way of -Orenburg, over the deserts of Sirdaria, to the cities -of Turkestan and Tashkent, and have thus a railway -all the way from the Baltic to within a few hundred -miles of India. In February, 1916, trains were first -run on the first reach of the new railway that is to -join Russia and Western China. It is now possible -to go to Chimkent by train, and possibly next year -to Aulie Ata. If English were in charge of this -territory there would probably be more railways by -now. In any case, the chief value of the railways has -been the means they afforded of bloodless pacification -of tribes. But their future is not so much a military -future as one of trade and Imperial development.</p> - -<p>Russia has made her Imperial conquests by force -of arms, and safeguarded them by railways and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> -colonisation. It should be remembered that before and -after and all the time runs the natural stream of -colonisation. The ultimate bond of unity is that -which comes from the national family ties of colonisation. -Nothing stands in Russia’s way, and she is -always quietly colonising the empty East.</p> - -<p>An interesting yearly chart might be issued by -the Russian Government showing the waves of -colonisation: the new spots in forests and deserts -that have been given names, the new farms, the -thickening of the population in the nearer-in districts, -the efflorescence of Russian enterprise at the -farthest-out points whither they have gone. Several -hundred Russian families are settled in Northern -Persia, several hundred also in Mongolia and China. -The movement goes on, and it is not primarily due -to the density of population in European Russia. -All Russia, excepting the few industrial regions, is -under rather than over-populated. There is plenty of -room. Why, then, should Russia increase? or why -not? Russia has access to the empty heart of Asia. -The old world is hollow at the core, and Russia has -access to that great, wide hollowness, stands at the -door of it and stares into the great emptiness. Then -her people are wanderers; they have the wandering -spirit. A cross wind blows over them, and they are -gipsies—the roving heart rules the mind. They love -the road and the quest. They are seekers. Even -the most materialistic of them, the least religious in -their outward expression, nourish dreams of success -and ideas of golden climes to be found “beyond the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> -horizon.” We should call many of them ne’er-do-wells, -though as a matter of fact they are all intent -to do well somewhere. They take up farms and give -up farms with too little scruple, and then go farther, -disgusting the official eye in one district, but knowing -they will delight other official eyes farther on -when they turn up with carts and cattle and belongings -at some verdant, empty wilderness still farther -away from the centre of Russia.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">VIII<br /> - - -<small>ON THE ROAD</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THERE was some difficulty in getting on from -Tashkent. I had two British notes, but no -bank would change them. The clerks held the paper -upside down, took it to their colleagues, who were -supping tea whilst they worked at their ledgers, took -it to the manager to show him a curiosity, and finally -returned it to me “with much regret.” “Don’t -think we are savages,” said one bank clerk, “because -we do not accept your money. The fact is, we’ve -never seen it before and cannot even read what is -written on it.” Another clerk, a sympathiser, -advised me that there was an Englishman in Tashkent, -a merchant who did much business and had an -account in the bank, bade me go to him, for he -would know what the notes were worth, and -would no doubt accommodate a fellow-countryman. -I obtained the address and sought out my compatriot. -His name was something like Kellerman—not -very promising. Behold one of the funniest -Englishmen I ever met—as clear a German Jew as -I’d ever seen in my life, scarcely speaking English, -and making all the comic mistakes which Germans -make with our tongue, a fat, ill-shaven, collarless -old man of a greasy complexion, a middleman buying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> -wool and horsehair and oilcakes and seed from the -native Sarts and Jews and Tartars and Kirghiz. He -professed to be very pleased to meet a fellow-countryman, -and to be yearning for his “native -land”—“a nice house in Kentish Town, all fog and -wet in the streets, a nice fire, pull the blinds down, -and read the ‘<i>Daily Telegraaf</i>.’” Every night in -Tashkent he repaired to the public gardens, took a -seat beside the skating rink, and watched the violent -whirl of Armenian youths and their lady friends on -roller-skates. Each night between ten and twelve -Kellerman might be found in his place, chuckling -to himself at the sight of accidents. “Causts -nawthing,” said he, “and it’s such a pleasure to -see other people break their necks or their legs.”</p> - -<p>Needless to say, he would not touch my notes; -at first thought they might be false, and then offered -me three pounds ten each for them. He said he -wouldn’t change them, but would be willing to make -a deal and treat it as a matter of business. So I had -to post my money to Moscow.</p> - -<p>The next obstruction was from the police, who -doubted whether I had permission to wander about -in Central Asia, and it was only after I had myself -looked through the books at the police-station that I -found my name, almost unrecognisably spelt, in -the list of those who had permission. At last I -got both my money in Russian change and my -<i>visé</i>, and was free to go. So I started my long -journey from the limits of the railway to the frontier -of China.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>I took train to Kabul Sai, a little station north -of Tashkent, and thence set out across the grass-covered -downs to Chimkent, the first point of -importance on my journey. I was a little anxious -lest I should be stopped by the station gendarme, -for it was not to be thought that every local police -authority would have my name legibly inscribed, and -I did not want to be delayed waiting while Kabul -Sai and a hundred other places wrote to Tashkent -for information. However, I escaped attention, and, -having made a good country dinner (big dinner, I -should rather say) at the station buffet, I lounged -about till the train went out of the station, and then, -considering compass and map, I cut across country -and found the road—without questions.</p> - -<p>So I got on to my feet in Sirdaria, the land of -the little horde of the Kirghiz. The plain was dusty -and vast, with a great sky overhead. There were -long-legged beetles that scampered through the dust -of the road, tortoises and their families eating grass -and dandelions, and very much taken aback when -picked up and examined. Father Tortoise is big and -green; his children are wee, like young crabs. There -was no cultivation anywhere in sight; the first grass -had already seeded and withered, but thousands of -blue irises were in blossom, and the tall sheaves of -their leaves contrasted strangely with the dying grass -below. The sun was hot, but a fresh, travelling -wind fairly lifted me as I walked. A chorus of larks -overhead made the prelude to my journey.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_074.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">A KIRGHIZ GRANDMOTHER: VENDOR OF <i>KOUMIS</i></p> - -<p>The only people on the road were Kirghiz. Far<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> -away on the hills I noticed their great flocks of cattle -and the circular tents of the nomads. There were no -villages. No villages, because it was hardly “white -man’s country”; there was no water to drink. I -thought to make myself tea, but I reckoned without -my host. Where there should have been streams -there was only a broken parquet of dry mud. No -trees, no shade, no shelter, and, if I should find water, -no fuel. The five post-wagons, drawn each by three -horses and driven by enormously fat Kirghiz drivers -with faces the colour of dull mahogany, went past me -in a cloud of dust, and I watched them away as the -sun was setting. Three-quarters of a mile away they -all stopped by a wooden bridge. There was evidently -water; perhaps the drivers wanted a drink. I was -very joyful at the prospect of tea. When I got -nearer I found that all the drivers were saying their -Mohammedan prayers, and had stopped at the stream -to have the conventional wash. The water was -reddish-brown, with mingled mud; light could not be -seen through a glass of it.</p> - -<p>I resolved to see what could be obtained at the -Kirghiz tents, put my pack down by the side of the -road, and set off, with a pot in one hand and a bit -of silver in the other. There were three tents on a -hill, and near them many cows and goats and horses. -I arrived in a whirlwind of dogs, three or four cattle -dogs showing their teeth and barking and snarling as -they tore round me in circles. Several women were -employed tending immense pans of milk which they -were boiling over bonfires made of roots. They<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> -seemed a trifle scared at first, but when I showed -them the pot and pointed to the bit of silver they -understood, and I was quickly put in possession of -a potful of hot, smoky milk. I carried it carefully -back to the place where I had slung my pack, and -there I sat down, feeling rather lost or accidental, -and I drank the hot milk and munched a bit of bread -which I had brought from the town. The dogs -followed me all the way to my resting-place, but -when they saw me sit down and take things calmly -they retired a distance and kept up a desultory -chorus.</p> - -<p>So I made my first meal out of doors by the -roadside. The next thing was to find a place for -the night. There was no variety in the country, and -I could only choose a place where insects were fewer -and one not over a tortoise’s burrow. I had a light, -home-made sleeping-sack and a plaid. The sack was -made by sewing two sheets together on three sides. -The sack is a useful institution; it keeps insects -out and is much warmer than open clothing. I had -also a mosquito net, for there are more flies here -than in other parts of the world. Before making -my spread I removed an elegant oak-eggar caterpillar. -I am always disinclined to injure the creeping -things of the earth, especially on a long journey. -I feel that to a certain extent I am in their charge. -This is a sort of natural superstition. Directly you -kill something superfluously, horror thrills you as it -thrilled the ancient mariner who shot the albatross.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_076.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">RUSSIANS AND KIRGHIZ LIVING SIDE BY SIDE<br /> AT THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAINS</p> - -<p>I lay down in such a position as to see the sunset<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> -in the evening and the sunrise in the morning. Sunset -was stormy, but somewhere among the rose-tinged -clouds a late lark sang the day out. Then stars -appeared behind cloud curtains, and the night breeze -carried his messages along the heath. The first breath -of night was cool and pleasant, but about an hour after -sunset the weather changed entirely. It became very -hot and airless, and lightnings shot across all horizons. -A shower of rain came down, and the stars disappeared. -As I lay considering the sky I heard far off -the chattering of children—chattering, laughing, and -occasional bursts of singing. The sounds came -nearer, and presently there emerged a troop of -camels, twelve huge camels stalking out of the night, -and on their backs men, women and children, tents, -goods. A little family of wanderers crossing the -wilderness in the night! They came so near to me -that the first camel snorted as he passed, and it was -necessary for me to sit up and warn the others off. -I had not anticipated that there might be people -travelling across country in the night. They passed, -and the quietness of night resumed its sway. The -clouds thickened, and lightning shimmered under -them; it began to rain again, and then stopped, -and the stars once more came up, and then the -clouds thickened once more, and once more rain -came down on me with rapid tapping. So the whole -night, and it was a pleasant tempering of the heat. -I slept happily, and it was a long while before I -wakened.</p> - -<p>When I reopened my eyes it was to look at the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> -seven stars standing over a blue-grey, vaporous cloud, -and looking like some uncanny Asiatic frying-pan -over a fire. There was scarcely a star but for them, -and south and east and west were all dark. It did -not occur to me that it was near dawn. But suddenly -a voice of liquid melody burst from the sky, -and after it, as at a signal, a whole chorus of larks -sang together away high up in the rain-wet vault of -the sky.</p> - -<p>I slept an hour longer, and it was morning. For -my breakfast I visited another Kirghiz tent, and this -time obtained a pot of mare’s milk. A dwarf-like old -woman was squatting on a carpet in the middle of -the tent, and when I said “koumis” she at once -got up and brought me a tall wooden jar. I held -my pot, she tipped up the jar, and poured out -the koumis. Good that Kirghiz women are not so -strictly hidden as other Mohammedans of their -sex!</p> - -<p>About ten o’clock I fell in with two soldiers -walking to Verney (some six hundred miles), their -guns and knapsacks having gone before by wagon. -They reckoned they would be more than a month on -the road. No doubt they would march the journey -in better style with a whole column, but as it was -they were inclined to stop every two hundred yards -and take off their boots; one wore jackboots, and -rags for stockings, and the other Kirghiz sandals tied -with string over bare feet. He told me light shoes -were better than heavy boots, but I knew better.</p> - -<p>“Heavy going?” said I.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>“Yes, heavy. No water, and no one understands -us in the Kirghiz tents.”</p> - -<p>We shared what remained of my koumis.</p> - -<p>“Where do you come from?”</p> - -<p>“Voronezh fort. And you?”</p> - -<p>“From England.”</p> - -<p>“Have you served in the army?”</p> - -<p>“No. We don’t need to unless we want to, you -know; our soldiers receive wages.”</p> - -<p>“How much?”</p> - -<p>“Fifty copecks a day,” said I, “and a premium -when they retire.”</p> - -<p>“And they only give us seventy copecks a month. -There’s a difference! How long do you have to -serve? Ah! We have only three years to serve. -But I’ve seen your soldiers,” said the Russian.</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“At Teheran. We stood side by side with them -there. But afterwards it was found we were not -necessary, and they moved us back.”</p> - -<p>One of the soldiers was inclined to talk, the other -not. Suddenly the silent one asked: “What are you -doing here—making plans?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said I apprehensively; “I’m just walking -along through the country to see what it is like. -Afterwards I write about it.”</p> - -<p>“For a library, so to speak?”</p> - -<p>“That’s it.”</p> - -<p>After much self-questioning on the subject of -where water was to be found next, we came at last -to a brook where there was clear water. It was warm<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> -and salt to the taste, but I decided to make tea. -The soldiers sat by and grinned incredulously. I -should not have been able to light a fire, but that, -like the cunning younger brother in the fairy-tale, I -had been picking up every bit of wood that I chanced -to see along the roadway. I had early realised how -difficult it was to find fuel and how precious any -stray bit of wood really was. By the stream there -was nothing to burn but hay. “Now shift yourselves,” -said I, “and go and find some dry hay, the -driest; we shall need all the fuel we can get.” They -obeyed like good soldiers, and the fire burned and the -kettle boiled and the tea was made. What tea! No -one would have touched it in Tashkent, but out here -on the road we drank it to the last drop and left the -tea-leaves parched.</p> - -<p>The soldiers then stretched themselves out to -sleep, and I went on. A mile on I met a Kirghiz -lad carrying a scythe on his back, and he rejoiced in -my company and talked to me exuberantly in his -native tongue. I replied to him in Russian, but as -he did not understand that, but still went on talking, -I reverted for amusement to English. One thing was -clear—he admired my ring very much, and several -times he took up my hand as we walked and looked -at the ring and exclaimed.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_080.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">A TENT OF LONELY NOMADS ON A SUMMER PASTURE<br /> IN CENTRAL ASIA</p> - -<p>When we got to his tent I bade him fetch me -some mare’s milk, and so I got my evening meal. -I had never tasted koumis before this day, and had -generally regarded it as more in the nature of -medicine than food. I knew that Russians suffering<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> -from catarrh of the stomach and internal troubles -were ordered by doctors to go to Kirghiz country and -live exclusively on koumis. Now it seemed I had to -live on it, more or less, for several weeks. Some say -it is as invigorating as champagne; I do not know. It -is certainly a pleasant drink and good food.</p> - -<p>That night I slept out till ten, and then thunder -and the rain forced me to pack up and search for -shelter. Eventually a little old man whom I met in -the dark conducted me to a Kirghiz caravanserai. -<i>Sarai</i> is Russian for a shed or barn, and the caravanserai -is the shed where the caravan puts in, otherwise -an inn. I was accommodated on an old carpet on a -dried mud floor. There were a score of men in the -room. Some were snoring, some were smoking -hookahs, one was playing a three-stringed guitar, -and the rest were squatting round a little kerosene -lamp on the floor, dealing out grimy cards, calling -out numbers, gathering in copecks.</p> - -<p>The roof of the inn was all canes and earth, and -I surmised that grass was growing above it. The -walls were tattered and old, and occasionally a fat -scorpion wandered along them. There was a black -and white duck in one corner sitting on a basket of -eggs. I lay away from the walls. “Not good to -sleep indoors,” I reflected; “fresher and quieter on -the heath; but I don’t want to get soaked.”</p> - -<p>After my night in the Kirghiz caravanserai I was -regaled in the morning with millet bread and tea. -My host charged me 2d. for bed and breakfast, and -I resumed my journey. It was over a moorland<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> -country, high and windswept. All day I was climbing -uphill to view points, or plunging downhill into -the rough pits that lay between them. The sun was -a ghost in the haze of the sky; there was a tempering -of the light, and even now and then a cloud -shadow cast over the fields, and it was delicious to -look at the myriads of crimson poppies set in meadows -of rank grass.</p> - -<p>I was in better country; there were more streams, -more people, more cattle. There were snowy mountains -on the horizon. Some freshness from the snow -came from them. I sat on a sun-bathed crown of the -downs and watched the lambs playing; white, brown, -yellow, black lambs, very pretty to look at, very -lively. And immense camel herds came stalking up -to me as if released from some pen, groaning, -whining, grunting, lying in the dust and rolling over, -getting up again convulsively, tolling the lugubriously -sounding bells that hang under their necks. There -were many baby camels no bigger than donkeys; as -they came along they indulged in ungainly scampering, -which made it look as if their hind-legs were -fighting their fore-legs.</p> - -<p>Pleasant for me to sit and watch them idly! -How different the feelings of a dozen prisoners -whom I saw being marched along my road by two -armed guards, a pitiful little troop of men, some of -them stripped to the waist, because they thought it -cooler so, all very dusty and limp, and all carrying -in their hands blue, empty kettles which they hoped -to fill at springs or streams by the way. Alas!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> -there was no water fit to drink anywhere along that -road! Poor prisoners. What to them were poppy -fields, or camel herds, or beautiful views! There was -probably just one thought in each and every one’s -head: “When shall I get a drink?” or “When -shall we come to a piece of shade?”</p> - -<p>The prisoners went on in the dust; I remained -behind in the free air. In the afternoon I saw a -samovar steaming outside a mud hut, and so went up -and was allowed to have tea with a Kirghiz family. -Not nomads these Kirghiz, but settled inhabitants -with passports or papers. The Russian Government -is very anxious to get these wandering folk out of -tents into immovable dwellings. There squatted -down to tea the owner of the hut, in a rust-coloured -cloak; his wife, in a bright yellow “cover-all”—hold-all, -you might almost say; a boy, in -white cotton slops; and a little dusky girl, naked -to the waist, but wearing cotton trousers, having a -silver chain round her neck, and her black hair in -twelve long and slender plaits, each loaded at the -end with a little silver weight that kept them from -getting mixed up and looking untidy. The mother, -in yellow, had a sort of wire puzzle in her ears for -ear-rings, on her head a high, white turban. She -was by no means a beauty. She looked as if originally -she had been made without a mouth, and a neighbour -had opened a place for it with a blunt knife. The -Kirghiz women are not by any means feminine or -attractive in appearance. As we squatted, each with -a basin in our hands, in came a neighbour from the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> -fields. She wore a white turban and a white gown. -Her face was deep oak-stain. She had a sash of -scarlet at her middle, wore jackboots, and had on -her wrists three bracelets of the serviette-holder type. -She was a woman cowherd, just in from the fields. -In her hands she carried a little spinning stick with -circular leaden weight at the bottom of it, and on to -this she dexterously pulled camel hair out of one -hand whilst with the other she twirled it into thread. -She was evidently <i>persona grata</i> in the hut. She -had the face of a pirate—a great, big, tanned, jolly, -horse-like sort of face.</p> - -<p>After tea the boy and girl ran off to the flocks, -the women went on spinning, and the father brought -out a bull with a ring through his nose and a chain -and rope hanging from it. He put a bit of hide on -the beast’s back, and then, to my astonishment, -mounted and rode away over the hills. I sat in a -shady corner and watched the afternoon turn to -evening.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_084.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">SARTS SELLING BREAD: THE <i>LEPESHKA</i> STALL</p> - -<p>Presently out of the blue sky came a hurricane -shower of hail and rain, flashing through the dazzling -sunshine and yet never obscuring it. It was big, -stinging hail, but none of the Kirghiz seemed to -mind it. I could see all the children of the village -disporting themselves with the lambs and the calves -on the hill opposite. Not till twilight did they return—and -then there was for me one of the prettiest -sights. All the children came in riding bareback on -calves or sheep, and driving them forward with kicks -of their little bare feet. The little dusky girl sat<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> -astride of a golden-brown lamb, and her brother on -an unwilling brown calf. Following the lamb came -the anxious mother ewe, and following the calf a -bellowing old black cow. Many children came up, -and there was a gay gathering and a delicious noise -of mirth and jollity at the end of the day. As a -reward to the ewes and the lambs the children -brought them millet bread and fed them from their -hands. The ewes did all but speak to the children, -and the way they took the millet bread from them -spoke of an unusual intimacy between children and -animals. The sheep were not worried or stupefied by -the children’s pranks; they were watchful, wilful, and -almost as mischievous as the children themselves. In -these wild places of the world where there is no -civilisation and no pretension on the part of man to -be more than an animal himself—where, moreover, -man lives in the midst of great herds where all -business and doing seems to be the breeding of young—the -children of men and the children of the herds are -much more akin. The birth of children synchronises -with the birth of lambs and foals, and is associated -in the aboriginal mind. One understands how the -eyes of the ancient Israelites and Egyptians, those -primeval shepherd and nomadic peoples, were fixed -upon the process of birth. They lived also in the -midst of the animal world.</p> - -<p>At nightfall carpets were spread outside the hut -for the people to sleep on. They also lived the night -with the stars. But the children stayed long with the -lambs, and I imagine in some cases slept with them.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>I, for my part, decided to push on for Chimkent<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> -in the cool of the evening, and I got into the little -town about ten o’clock at night. Chimkent is a -miniature of Tashkent, but without the great buildings -and shops in the Russian half. The same wide -town—when you come to it you are not there; it is -necessary to go on and on. The same gullies running -along every street—only the water in them is less -muddy than at Tashkent. The Sartish shops again. -The dazzling cinema shows once more. I made for -a brilliant illumination, thinking it might be an hotel, -but it was the cinema theatre “Light.” Cinema -theatres all have names in Russia, none more common -than this one of “The Light.”</p> - -<p>I found an inn at length, and a room. Next -morning I went out for provisions. Chimkent has -a little reputation as a watering-place, and chiefly -because of the supply of koumis! Russians are very -fond of going to outlandish places in order to be -“cured,” and koumis is the cure of Chimkent. It is -a beautiful little town, however. Chimkent has its -mountain background, its white-stemmed, magnificent -poplars, its old ruins, its fortifications. The Russians -live more freely than usual. No passport was asked -of me at the inn where I stayed. There was no -Government monopoly of the sale of vodka.<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> There -seemed to be fewer police about.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>The Sartish bazaar was full of life and colour; -carpenters, smiths and metal workers doing their -work at open booths; koumis merchants standing -behind gallon bottles and little glasses, inviting you to -sit down there and then and drink a glass, the white -of the milk gleaming suggestively through the gloomy -green of the bottle; silk and cotton vendors exposing -marvellously gaudy wares to veiled females who tried -to look at the stuff without exposing their faces, a -difficult manœuvre; strawberry hawkers; hawkers of -<i>lepeshka</i>; carpet vendors; saddle vendors. There were -high stacks of gaily coloured wooden saddles. A -Kirghiz woman, riding astride of a pony, and yet -having a dusky baby at her open breast, came and -bought just such a saddle.</p> - -<p>What remains most brightly in my mind was a -long row of silvery-grey wolf skins exhibited at one -shop. It was almost as if the animals themselves -were looking at you. It reminded me of what -winter must be like in this land—not mild, as one -might expect, but intensely cold as long as it lasts. -The moors are full of dangers from wolves. It was -hereabouts, some years ago, that a whole wedding -party of thirty or forty people perished on their way -from the church to the bride’s house. The distance -was only twenty miles, and in that time the wolves -tore down all the horses and all the people except -one Kirghiz driver, who by sacrificing the last-left -couple, the bride and groom, and throwing them to -the wolves, escaped to tell the tale and not feel -shame. The Kirghiz would not feel shame at such<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> -an act—they are somehow outside codes of honour -and chivalry and religion. They are not savages, but -they are not civilised.</p> - -<p>I spent a day altogether at Chimkent. Before -resuming my tramp I bought myself a bottle in -which to keep water or milk against a thirsty hour -on the road. At the shop where I bought it a -strange variety of wares was exposed; first Caucasian -wine, then local wine—vodka, called here table wine—cognac, -liqueurs, then ikons, flowers for your grave, -matches and tobacco. Very suggestive, I thought. -The landlady was rather taken aback at my remarks, -and said that in a small place like Chimkent one -could not have a separate shop for ikons or for -flowers or for vodka, and her brother was a joiner, -and she could take orders for coffins.</p> - -<p>At Chimkent I struck colonial country, the main -stretch of Russian colonisation extending eastward -from Tashkent. I set out over a very worn switchback -road, through irrigated fields of barley, through hayfields, -where Russians were at work, past Russian -farmhouses, into a country entirely different from -that which I had been traversing. For the time being -the Kirghiz was out of sight and I was in a Russian -colonial district, a sort of Southern Siberia, full of -interest and promise. At dusk I came to an encampment -of fifty or sixty emigrants, with their wagons -and horses. Many fires were burning, and iron pails -full of soup were simmering over them; samovars -were steaming, children were skirling and playing, -someone was playing a concertina, and many<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> -drunkards were singing. Familiar Russian songs -rent the air—the old songs which Russians never -seem to abandon, and perhaps never will abandon, -even when everybody knows the latest music-hall -catch.</p> - -<p>I slept the night on a hillock overlooking the -road, and it was better than at the inn, even though -there was a thunder-shower. The larks sang the day -out again. I listened to the cuckoo calling and to -the conversation of the blue crows that kept visiting -me, finding out something, flying away, and then -returning with brethren; watched the stars and the -clouds, and slept.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I had now struck the main road from Tashkent -to the Chinese frontier, and the prospect of my -journey changed from one of solitary wandering over -sandy wastes to one full of life and interest in the -company of Russian colonists and Oriental traffickers. -From the moment I wakened up on the hill-side on -my first morning after leaving Chimkent, I was not -out of the hearing of songs and laughter and chattering, -nor out of the sight of wagons, carts, camel -trains and people.</p> - -<p>The road was really four roads, each separated by -streaks of trampled grass-grown mud, now dried or -drying after many thunder-showers. On the southern -side you are accompanied by snowy mountains for -hundreds of miles. You would think that you could -walk to them in half an hour and get a handful of -snow, so clear is the atmosphere that shows them,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> -but they are at least twenty miles distant. They -are, first, the Alai Tau, and then the Alexandrovsky -Mountains, and then what is known as the Trans-Ilian -Alai Tau, and many of their peaks are over -ten thousand feet high, but are not named and -little known. On the north side of the road stretches -the desert in spring, now green to the horizon, but -already turning yellow here and there under the blaze -of the sun. On either hand one sees far-away clusters -of grey tents of the Kirghiz, and near them their -herds of cattle-black patches that are horses, red -patches that are cows, grey, white and brown masses -like many maggots, and they are sheep. There are -also many camels far away on the hills, looking like -little twists of thick rope with knots in the middle.</p> - -<p>Nearly all the traffic at this season is going eastward, -and each morning, when the horses are put -in and the wagoners make up the caravan once -more, it is with eyes and faces toward the dawn.</p> - -<p>The emigrant caravan starts an hour before sunrise; -the camp breaks up and the oxen and horses -are put to, and the long day of creaking and -blundering and toiling onward commences. I was -regularly wakened up by the road which had -wakened before me, the moving caravans and the -traders’ carts.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">The stars are setting and the caravan</div> -<div class="verse">Starts for the dawn of nothing. Oh! make haste!</div> -</div></div> - -<p>I generally slept at a distance of about a hundred -yards from the actual highway, in order to avoid<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> -being run over at night. Even so, I was frequently -in some danger of being trodden on before dawn, -and at least sure to be wakened early by the traffic -on the road. Upon occasion there were whole -hordes and patriarchal families on the roads, with -their camels and sheep and horses, their white-turbaned -women riding on bulls, and pretty girl-brides -on caparisoned palfreys.</p> - -<p>We journeyed from village to village, and each -was an artificial oasis made by the Russian colonists -and irrigation engineers. Every ten, fifteen or twenty -miles there was a substantial Russian village; the -farther I went the more distance there was between -these settlements, but still the actual chain was kept up -unbroken to the far east of the colony, and the maps -which we have of these deserts are unrepresentative in -that they show blank spaces with a scattering of Tartar -names of places. The map should now be well -marked with Russian names. Each village is a shady -shelter, alive with the running water of the irrigation -canals, wherein are trailing families of ducks. There -are long lines of splendid poplar trees, solid houses, -schools, shops, a church, post office, municipal buildings, -and so on. A notice-board tells the number of -souls and the date of the foundation of the village.</p> - -<p>When the long caravans of new colonists came to -a settlement they tied their horses and oxen to trees, -repaired to inns, sought out people who had come -from their part of Russia, and made merry with -them. The village was a great sight when one of the -long caravans had come in.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>A little respite from the hot road, and then on -once more. I see a Kirghiz riding with reins in one -hand and a hawk in the other. The Kirghiz are great -hawkers, using different hawks for different game. I -meet a Sartish cart in which are five soldiers coming -home from Verney, where they have received their -discharge—several hundred miles from a railway -station—and they have hired a native cart, and are -asleep in the bottom of it. At last I come to a -tumbling mountain stream, and it is good to have a -swim and make myself tea in the shadow of the -great bridge which takes the high road across the -water. When a great band of colonists arrives here, -there is an astonishing scene of peasant men and -women bathing. They take to the water as if their -very bodies were thirsty.</p> - -<p>We pass through Mankent, one of the few native -towns remaining, and that tending to be swallowed -up by Russia also; and there, at a Sartish shop, -stay for koumis—very bad koumis compared with -what the Kirghiz gave me in their tents. Coming -out of Mankent I fell in with a band of rich -emigrants going from Stavropol, in South Russia, to -beyond Kopal. They had twenty-four ox-drawn -carts and twelve drawn by horses, and in the carts -were their household goods—tables, chairs, beds and -bedding—agricultural implements, reaping and binding -machines, ploughs, grindstones, saws, axes, even -metal baths, barrels, guns, pots and what not in such -miscellaneity and promiscuity, mixed with mothers -and babies, that it was touching to see. The oxen,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> -in their wooden yokes, were fine beasts, and the -emigrants tended them on foot. Every wagon was -accompanied by one or two on foot, who flicked off -the flies and encouraged the oxen along, sang songs, -and shouted to one another. Every wagon had -buckets swinging at the side. One wagon had -several cages of doves fixed on to it; to another a -poor old dog was tied, and came along unwillingly. -In short, everything they could bring from Mother -Russia to the new land the emigrants had brought.</p> - -<p>I accompanied them up on to a wild moorland, -on to a great plateau, where we spent the night -after passing out of Mankent.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As I tramped thus across Russian Central Asia the -great event that should change everything was hidden -behind the screens of the future. The gentle and -innocent present was more interesting than past or -future. It is touching to go over my diary and see -how guilelessly and unsuspectingly I and everyone was -walking the time road that led so soon—if we only -could have known it—to the precipice of war. The -every-day was friendly, even though it contained -storm or adventure or privation. We were familiar -with mornings and evenings as with long known and -trusted friends. As we look back at them they have -a sinister aspect as of police conducting us by stages -to some frontier. It is with these feelings that I -look back now to my long tramp to the mysterious -city of Aulie Ata, a famous shrine in the days of -Tamerlane. Each night I slept under the stars,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> -each day journeyed pleasantly forward under a -tropical sun.</p> - -<p>One night, near the new Russian village of -Antonovka, there was an appalling sunset—through -a barrel-shaped thundercloud into a sea of fire; and -directly the sun went below the horizon the lightning -became visible in the cloud, and I watched it -running through the dark veils of vapour in ropes -and loops and flying lassos of silver. The thunder -rolled lugubriously, and far away I could see the rain -pouring in continuous flood, the black fringe of the -cloud torn from heaven down to earth. I wondered -had I not better pack up and go down to the village. -But a little wisp of clear sky, containing one pale -star, expanded itself slowly and drove away the great -lightning-riven barrel and banished every cloud, and -it was clear and the thunder was not, and the night -was dry and starry. Dawn next morning was clear -and cold, and at the sound of cart-wheels on the -highway below me I gladly took the road again—quick -march to get warm. In an hour, however, the -sun was already too ardent a friend, and I took -shelter in a caravanserai, a cubical mud hut with -neither chair nor table, and from the samovar steaming -on the floor I prepared my morning tea—put -some tea from a packet in my knapsack into my -pot, and then filled up with boiling water from -the samovar. The village street outside was full -of life, crowded with wagons and wagoners standing -half in the bright new light of day and -half in the deep, damp shadow of mud walls<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> -and banks. I sat down opposite the village school. -The school door was wide open, and I saw all the -village children sitting in desks round the mud-built -room. There were about thirty children, and -they were a pretty sight, the boys in turkey-red -cotton trousers, the girls in red frocks, with their -black hair in plaits. There was only one row of -desks, but it went right round the room. In the -middle space were two teachers squatting on a carpet -spread on the floor. Each and every child was -saying his lessons at the top of his voice, and -sing-song—but not the same thing, all different, -according to the page the boy or girl was at, some -far behind, another far in front. These were all Sart -children.</p> - -<p>I walked all day after this with a damp towel -hanging from under my hat, and as fast as the towel -dried I made it wet again from my water-bottle. -Everyone on the road was thirsty and hungry, and I -said to myself: “The next village is called Cornucula; -let’s hope it will turn out to be Cornucopia!” And -it was indeed a horn of plenty, and I shared there a -roast chicken and a pitcher of milk with a companion -of the road, a poor old horseman who had a horse -but who had no money, and was begging his way -home to Aulie Ata.</p> - -<p>“How much did you give for your horse?” said I.</p> - -<p>“It cost thirty-five roubles originally, with saddle -and bridle and bags. I don’t know what it’s worth -now. It’s peaceful, that’s the main thing, and it -lives on grass.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>This is really the country where wishes are horses, -for you see beggars riding. What a lot of wishes -astray on these mountains!</p> - -<p>“Where have you been?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Looking for a job.”</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“On the new railway.”</p> - -<p>“Couldn’t you get one?”</p> - -<p>“No; there were thousands waiting, and they -only took on two hundred, and these at the lowest -wage piece-work.” He mentioned some figure the -cubic foot.</p> - -<p>“How much can a man earn in a month if he -goes at it hard?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Twenty roubles (two guineas), not more,” said -my acquaintance.</p> - -<p>Imagine it—for a job of ten shillings a week, -bestial labour, in the desert, under the Central Asian -sun, something like a twenty to one excess of supply -over demand of labour, and the people waiting -weeks, months, on the chance. Surely nowhere but -in Russia could such a phenomenon be noted. There, -as nowhere else in the world, is a tremendous superfluity -of white men’s hands. A firm of contractors -has this job from the Government; according to their -schedule, labour was to be paid for at a certain rate—a -very low rate—but, seeing the expectancy and -the sad plight of the mobs of unemployed waiting -at the starting-point of the new line, they quite -cheerfully make a handsome reduction in favour of -themselves.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>After our meal the beggar horseman went off on -his nag, and I wandered through the village on foot. -Among other establishments in the village was a -photographer’s, and outside his little house was -a notice:</p> - - - -<p class="center">THOSE WISHING TO HAVE THEIR PHOTOGRAPHS<br /> -TAKEN MAY HAVE A SHAVE FREE</p> - - -<p>I went in to the photographer, and saw many -photographs of shaven colonists, all very stiff and -serious looking. These were chiefly pioneers and -passers-by, the people of the caravans. It is strange -how unhappy everyone looks in a provincial portrait. -The photographer, however, did a good business.</p> - -<p>I settled down for the evening and the night in -the sight of lovely mountains. The sky cleared of -wisps of cloud and discovered the stars. The new -moon, born surely that day, was but a hair of silver -in the west, and sank an hour after sunset, followed -by a beautiful attendant star. As I lay on the heath -and looked upward, the first constellation just -formed, and it was the seven stars, delicate and lovely -in the half-night, as dainty as a maiden’s ornament. -Showers of meteors, half observed, slipped out of the -dark into the dark; long single meteors left, as it -were, phosphorescent trails of light behind them. -The Asiatic mountains drew their cloaks round them, -hardened their faces, and slept as they stood away in -the background. It became a night of countless -stars, each star a jewel set in the darkness. The night -wind came waving over the grass, full of health,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> -gentleness and warmth. It was never still all night, -but never cold, and never a cloud touched the vast -glittering sky.</p> - -<p>Next night before falling asleep I witnessed an -unusual phenomenon. Away in the north a strange -black ribbon seemed to be let down from a cloud, -and it fluttered in the air. I thought of America -and advertisement devices and of aeroplanes all in a -second, and then remembered I was in Central Asia, -far away from the inventions of civilisation. The -ribbon came nearer, and as it passed overhead took -a wedge-shaped formation, and I saw it was composed -entirely of birds. They were flying across the heaven -at a breathless speed, now in the clouds, now out, -and never breaking up their ranks, the big birds -seeming to be thick on top of one another in the -front. On approaching the line of snow peaks in -the south, they defiled into a long, single line, looking -like some aerial train, and then easily, rapidly, -passed over Talas Tau and Hindu Kush to India, as -I surmised, just four hundred miles as they fly. The -moon that night was a crescent of pearl, and stayed -a little longer in the sky. I watched her night by -night till she was full grown, and rose in the east -the time the sun was setting, and reigned in the sky -the whole night. How pleasant and serene the night -weather remained! All night long the breeze rippled -and flapped in my sleeping-sack and crooned in the -neck of my water-bottle. Far up on the hills lights -twinkled in Kirghiz tents, and in the illumination of -moonlight I faintly discerned black masses of cattle<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> -beside which boys watched all night, playing their -wooden pipes and singing their native songs to one -another.</p> - -<p>As far as High Village (Visokoe) the road remains -with the Russians, and their villages abound. After -Visokoe there is forty miles of moorland to Grosnoe, -and then for a hundred miles there is not a Russian -settlement except the town of Aulie Ata. Journeying -became very difficult when the road was over -deserted, empty moorland. The sun poured down, -there was not a glimpse of shade anywhere, seldom -any water, and seldom anything to eat. Even the -grass was disappearing, and the Kirghiz everywhere -were moving, following the spring, with their tents -and their cattle and their camels, away from the -scorched plains up to the fresher slopes of the mountains. -Often I rigged up my plaid as a tent, often -sat in the pale grey shadow of an ancient ruin or a -tomb. The emigrants who tended the oxen on the -road were fain to climb into the canvas-covered -wagons and sleep, leaving the slow cattle to trudge -with the extra load through the dust. Russian -Ascension Day came, and the road was perfectly -empty—for no one would travel on a festival. All -day long I met but one man, a native on a camel. -For a long time we walked within sight of one -another, he allowing the camel to graze when it felt -inclined, but every now and then giving it a kick, -to which it responded by a plaintive groan and a -jangling of the bell round its neck.</p> - -<p>One might ask where is Tamerlane, where the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> -warriors, the robbers, the camp followers of the -hordes? The Easterns you meet are all gentle as -children. No one needs to carry a weapon. Where -is the old spirit of fighting? The answer might be -found, I suppose, in the thousands of Cossacks and -Russians who, later in the same year, returned along -these roads to fight against the Germans.</p> - -<p>The day before reaching Aulie Ata, in the heat -of noon, I came in sight of a green patch on the -moors, and sought and found a bubbling spring of -clear water. “Here is the place,” thought I, “to -make my long-deferred cup of tea,” and I cast my -knapsack on the moor and looked around for a spot -on which to make a fire. I had gathered a few sticks -along the road in case of need, so I had the foundation -of a little blaze. With what trouble did I keep -that fire going till the kettle boiled, rushing about -for wisps of withered weed, hunting for roots, for a -straw, for anything that would burn, and all the time -anxious lest in my absence the pot should capsize. -At last, as I stood over the fire, there were symptoms -of boiling, and I was just rejoicing. Then -suddenly all grew black around me, and I lost control -of my body and fell down. Such was the effect of -the burning sun on my neck and head. Perhaps this -was something in the nature of a sunstroke. Be that -as it may, even at the moment of falling I got up -again. For what was my vexation to realise, even at -the moment that I fell, that my kettle had capsized. -The fact brought me to my senses. I hardly touched -the ground before I started up again to save the water<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> -and the fire. No luck; the water was all spilt, the -fire out, and the kettle lying in the ashes. I did not -trouble to pick the kettle up. I sat down by the -spring, soaked a handkerchief, put it on my head, -took out my mug, and drank water—such a lot of -water.</p> - -<p>What a day! I was to feel the effects of my -sunstroke. A great thirst took possession of me, and -when I got to Aulie Ata a touch of fever, which I -had to fight.</p> - -<p>Aulie Ata the ancient, the tomb of the Holy -One, is a mysterious and umbrageous city. I became -aware of its trees on my outward horizon early one -afternoon, when the mighty sun had just passed the -zenith and was beginning to beat on my shoulders. -I had made my siesta at noon in a tent I contrived -with my plaid. I tied one corner to a telegraph pole -and tied stones to the other corners, and somehow -made a canopy, and I lay in a blaze of diffused light -on the hard, dry, sandy steppe. Though the wind -blew, it was burning hot, and my right hand was -swollen and smarting, for I hold a strap of my knapsack -with it as I march. I drank the last drain of -water in my water-bottle and made the melancholy -reflection that Central Asia is not a land to tramp -in. I heard the jun-jun-jun of camels, but did not -care to put out my head to look at them. I wished -I had a tent, or a stout and voluminous umbrella.</p> - -<p>Still, one couldn’t stay in this spot all day, so I -untied my blanket from the telegraph pole and the -stones, packed my knapsack, and set off again into<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> -the dazzling brilliance of the open country. In about -half an hour I espied an old ruin in the wilderness, -and ran along to it, and found at the foot of the -blanched wall three feet of intense shadow, in which -it was just possible to sit and keep in. A villainous-looking -scorpion seemed to be of the same opinion -as I was, but I was too lazy to kill him, so I just -flicked him off into the sun. Oh for some water, or -some milk, or some koumis, but not a Kirghiz tent -was to be seen all around. The Kirghiz were twenty -miles away up in the green valleys of the Alexander -mountains, where was pasture for their herds.</p> - -<p>On the road once more! And then like a mirage -I saw the long dark streak of Aulie Ata on the -eastern horizon. It was twelve to fifteen miles -away, but I thought it to be quite near. So clear is -the atmosphere, so prominent in the wide emptiness -of the desert are the trees of the Russian settlements, -that one is constantly deceived as to the -distance of the place in front of one. And I greatly -rejoiced when I saw Aulie Ata; and although I was -tired I resolved to get there without further resting -by the way. I walked and walked and my shadow -grew longer as the sun went down in the west behind -me; but still the line of trees seemed as remote as -ever. Several times I asked myself: “Am I not -nearer?” and I was obliged to confess that I seemed -no nearer. It was like walking towards the horizon. -“There is something of magic about this city,” I -thought.</p> - -<p>It was long before I came even to the irrigated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> -fields of the settlers, and only late in the dusk I -arrived at the first outlying streets of the town, and -went in with the procession of cows returning from -the steppe to be milked in the yards of the colonists. -In the midst of the clamour and dust I arrived. As -I hadn’t had anything to drink since noon, and I -daren’t touch the water of the irrigation canals, I -was just about as thirsty as it is possible to be. I -determined to stop at the first caravanserai, and there -I had a big teapot and five or six little basins of tea -and a bottle of koumis, and I stopped at the next -caravanserai and had a bottle of lemonade and seltzer -water. Tired as I was, however, I did not seek a -night’s lodging, but went first to the post office, -about two miles from the entrance to the town, and -I obtained the telegram I knew would be waiting for -me from Russia. I had arranged a little code so -that certain things I wanted to know could easily -be told me “by wire.” Letters take weeks. It had -been pleasant to look at the wires by the roadway as -I walked and reflect that a message to me was, -perhaps, winging its way past me. And, sure -enough, at the little post office my telegram was -waiting.</p> - -<p>After the post office I found a place at which to -stay, a Russian inn called the Hotel London; and -so, to justify its name, took a room in it and felt -glad to have reached a city, even Aulie Ata the -ancient.</p> - -<p>Aulie Ata is a strange town hid behind the -foliage of its long lines of trees. The running water<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> -courses along the canals, and, as at Chimkent and -Tashkent, bull-frogs croak in chorus. The foundation -of the settlement is Mohammedan. It was once a -great holy place of the Moslems, the shrine of some -antique teacher. But Russia has taken the upper -hand and given a different aspect. There are scores -of mosques lifting their slender minarets above the -verdure of the trees, but most of the houses are -Russian houses. And there are hotels, cinema shows, -restaurants, theatres, as well as farmhouses, shops, -<i>sarais</i>, mud dwellings, and fixed Kirghiz tents.</p> - -<p>Darkness had long since settled down on the -town when I went forth to find a restaurant. Here -every restaurant is a <i>sad</i>, or garden. It is fenced -with bamboo; the tables are set among flower-beds -and gravel paths, and there is trellis-work with -festoons of greenery hanging from it, strange light -and shade betwixt the moonlight and the lamplight -and the darkness.</p> - -<p>I found a garden kept by an Armenian, and had -dinner by myself at a table under a fruit-laden cherry -tree luridly illumined and yet only partially illumined -by the blaze of a huge spirit lamp. Moths whirred -into vision and descended towards the white table-cloth, -and heavy beetles and locusts stunned themselves -against the spirit lamp, and all manner of -winged vermin and midget danced in the light which -seemed to hang like drapery from the tree.</p> - - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_104.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">THE NATIVE ORCHESTRA: SEE THE MEN WITH THE TEN-FOOT<br /> HORNS, “TRUMPETS OF -JERICHO” AS THE RUSSIANS CALL THEM</p> - -<p>A waiter had taken my order, and a cook far -away was cooking what I had ordered, and I sat and -rested and considered the day which at noon had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> -been ablaze in my improvised tent on the steppe and -at night was here in a lighted but shadowy restaurant-garden -in a city.</p> - -<p>My dinner was brought, and all the time I was -eating my <i>shashleek</i> (bits of lamb roasted on a -skewer over charcoal) I listened to an unearthly -hubbub of bands—or of fire hooters, I could not tell -which. Every ten minutes there was an awesome -silence, and then there outbroke the blast of a horn, -three times repeated, that sounded like the trump -of doom, <i>terumm</i>, <i>terumm</i>, <i>terumm</i>; then came the -sound of bagpipes and a throbbing of many drums, -the horns breaking through the lesser music at intervals -and lifting the roof of the sky. This was an -appalling accompaniment to my meal. I had never -heard anything like the sound of that horn:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Terum—m—m,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Terum—m—m,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Terum—m—m.</i></div> -</div></div> - -<p>It was like the blast</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="indent3">Of that dread horn,</div> -<div class="verse">On Fontarabian echoes borne,</div> -<div class="verse">Which to King Charles did come,</div> -<div class="verse">When Roland brave and Olivier,</div> -<div class="verse">And every paladin and peer,</div> -<div class="verse">On Roncesvalles died!</div> -</div></div> - -<p>Like the horn of Roland blown in the desert and -heard three hundred leagues away. After dinner, -I went off to find by ear the origin of this hubbub. -I went along towards the sound, and found it proceeded<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> -from a native orchestra standing on the roof -of a circus building. Here two tall Sarts held in -their hands horns ten feet long. They lifted these -horns to the sky and balanced them on their lips; they -lowered them and blasted their music over the roofs -of the houses of the city; they presented them at the -heads of the crowd of sightseers, and made many -put their fingers to their ears and walk away: it was -a terrifying and astonishing noise. It was wonderful, -however, the effect of the three angles at which the -horns were blown. You felt the first one went right -over the town, it was a voice from the stars, it -leapt from the dark emptiness of the desert on one -side to the dark emptiness of the desert on the other -side of the city; the second, blown at the people’s -heads, was in the town and at the town, and caused -the houses to tremble; the third was blown, as it -were, to the dead.</p> - -<p>These horns are traditional instruments of the -Sarts, though it is said there are only a few men -alive who can blow them. It needs great strength, -and the degenerating race does not produce such fine -men as it did. The Russians call them the “trumpets -of Jericho.”</p> - -<p>An astonishing advertisement for a circus. The -sound of these horns was too much for my temperament, -and I fought shy of the show, though I should -otherwise have liked to go in. Still, a new stage in -my journeying had been reached, and I sought diversion, -found a theatre, and bought a seat to see a -romance of ideal love. There were seven people in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> -the theatre, and after an hour we were all given our -money back and told that the company had gone to -see the circus. I then went to the cinema to see the -much-advertised “spectacle” of “A Prisoner of the -Caucasus,” but I was informed that the “machine” -was broken, and that the next performance would -be “on Friday, if God grant”—a dark cinema-house -where by the light of an oil lamp, which -seemed strangely out of place, one discerned a -refreshment bar, a cashier’s box, where should have -been a girl selling tickets, curtains separating the -waiting-room from the theatre, and finally three or -four hopeful or disappointed would-be customers. I -asked a Russian present if he did not find in the -noise of the horns something very horrifying and -suggestive, and he replied testily:</p> - -<p>“Oh, a great deal of noise, that’s all. Very -trying for those who would rather not hear it.”</p> - -<p>He did not feel as I did about the music at all, -and his matter-of-factness rather surprised me. The -horns had to me the sense of calling someone, something, -and they were literally terrifying.</p> - -<p>In a depressed state of mind I wandered back to -the Hotel London, and found the landlady having a -nail-to-nail fight with a woman lodger. Both sides at -once claimed me as a witness—the police were -coming, and I would testify. The landlady had -broken into the lodger’s room and told her to leave -at once; the latter, a great, big, hysterical Russian -woman, had replied with fisticuffs and sobs and -clamour.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>The landlady gave a very disparaging account of -the woman lodger’s present behaviour and past -career. The woman lodger, under the strange impression -that she possessed good looks, tried to -ingratiate me to be on her side by giving me saucy -looks and knowing smiles. The yard porter had -been sent for the police, and all the while there were -strident cries of “the police are coming”—and the -horns kept up their rumpus over the city, <i>terumm</i>, -<i>terumm</i>, <i>terumm</i>.</p> - -<p>I was sorry my room had no key and that the -window was shuttered from the outside. The police -came and ordered that the woman be allowed to -remain till the morning, and a silence settled down -on the inn—silence broken only by the sound of the -horns of the orchestra a mile away. All sorts of -fancies possessed my mind and wrought me to a state -of terror, so that I was afraid of my dreams.</p> - -<p>What I dreamed that night has probably little to -do with Russian Central Asia, and yet I shall never -think of my journey across this wild and empty land -without half recalling it involuntarily. Even if I -believed that dreams had never any definite prophecy -or foreboding in them, this one is one I should take -to a dream interpreter. Now that I know that all -this summer a great war was in preparation and the -dogs of lust and hate were being unloosed, I can say -to myself that I at least had warning that the Devil -was at large, that an evil spirit had escaped into the -world.</p> - -<p>I ought, perhaps, to tell first the dream which my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> -friend G—— told me before I left Vladikavkaz, when -he warned me of a great impending world calamity. -G—— said that one night, after an arduous day’s -work teaching in class and coaching private pupils at -home, he lay down on his couch and dozed. Hardly -had he fallen asleep, when three men of Eastern -aspect, dark faced, bright eyed, brown handed, with -white robes from their shoulders and white turbans -on their heads, appeared to him and pronounced six -words in a loud, oracular voice and disappeared. A -second time they appeared and did the same. A third -time they appeared and pronounced them, and this -time one of them took up a pen and made as if to -write. The words were not Russian, or, indeed, any -language which G—— knew, but after the third -apparition and disappearance he wakened up with a -start and at once picked up an exercise-book and -wrote the words down. They were: <i>Imaktúr nites -óides ilvéna varen cevertae</i>. G—— had never been a -student of the occult before, but this caused him to -consider. I begged G—— to write them down for -me and let me see how they looked in black and -white.</p> - -<p>“Well, what do they mean?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“I cannot yet be sure,” said G——. “They are -certainly part of a language. Of that I am convinced. -I have consulted many great linguists, and whilst they -cannot say what language it is or where its lingual -affinities are to be found, they all agree that it has -the nature of real language. I have thought, as I -lived in the Caucasus in the midst of so many Eastern<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> -tribes, that it might conceivably be intelligible to -one or other of them. I have questioned Ingooshi, -Ossetini, Khevsuri, but none recognised any likeness -to any tongue they had ever heard in the mountains. -I have been to Petersburg, Berlin, Paris to try and -find out what the words meant, and all to no avail. -Specialists were most sympathetic, but could tell me -nothing. However, since then I have made a profound -study of occult language, and have arrived at -some understanding of the significance of the dream. -All I can tell you is that a world calamity is coming, -a great cataclysm or natural subversion. We may -expect great earthquakes. Germany certainly is in -danger.”</p> - -<p>The dream I had in Aulie Ata was certainly -much worse than this. I thought G—— rather crazy -about this dream of his at the time, and I listened -incredulously to his prophecies. But if I regarded -them flippantly perhaps I was wrong. Certainly, if -I held there was no such verity as the occult I was -wrong.</p> - -<p>They say that Fear stands on the threshold of the -occult world, and as my dream consciousness impinged -upon it I experienced abject terror, a terror that -creeps through the marrow of the bones and lifts the -roots of one’s hair at a thought.</p> - -<p>I lay down in my dark room at the Hotel London -at Aulie Ata after the fight between landlady and -lodger had ceased but whilst the Sart orchestra still -blew their horns over the city. The bed was a foot -short for my tired body; the shutters of the room<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> -were barred; I had no lamp, but only a bit of candle -of my own. After a fortnight spent under the stars -and in the immense open house of earth and heaven, -it was sufficiently oppressing and depressing in this -shuttered chamber. But I was tired with the tiredness -of one who has tramped under a sub-tropical -sun from dawn to sunset and has added an evening -of town excitement to the weariness of a long journey.</p> - -<p>I had hardly lain down before I fell asleep. At -once I began to dream. I had been invited to a -friend’s house, and was for a moment by myself in -his dining-room; there was nothing on the table but -the cruet. I was terribly thirsty, and I rushed to one -of the bottles and began to drink from it, but, my -host coming along the corridor and into the room, I -at once put the bottle back and pretended that I had -been doing nothing of the kind. This awoke me. -My eyes opened, and I thought to myself: “What -an absurd dream! What a dreadful thing pretending -is. Why cannot we be as we are? Manners is, in a -way, pretence. Every polite man who comes up to -you to shake hands, if we only knew it, has been doing -something the moment before as impossible as drinking -the contents of the cruet. Mankind are pretenders. -The spirit is truth, but the incarnation is a mask. The -whole aspect of humanity is a pretending to be what -it is not....”</p> - -<p>I was rather struck by the thought, but lapsed into -sleep again. And then came my terrible dream. In -the depths of my sleep a voice suddenly cried out the -most terrifying words I think I have ever heard, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> -they were: “<i>A great dissimulator has escaped, shut -in prison from everlasting.</i>”</p> - -<p>At that I started up from my bed with the -perspiration on my brow and the most hideous fear -of the Devil. I felt that some new evil spirit was at -large and was seeking a home in a man. My earlier -thought came back to me—all spirits are dissimulators, -whether they be devils or angels, and we men and -women are all angels pretending to be men and -women. But now I knew that some devil from which -the world had mercifully been preserved (from everlasting) -had escaped into our life, and would take the -form and the appearance of a man somewhere. I had -intelligence of the Antichrist. And now that we are -all in the depths of this war I ask myself sometimes -is there a genius of evil in all this, has the Antichrist -perhaps appeared? Does not the fact that St. George -and the angels (the angels, at least, of Mons) are -fighting on our side suggest that the evil powers -incarnate are on the other side?</p> - -<p>It was two in the morning; the Sarts had stopped -blowing their horns, there was a breathless stillness. -I wakened up the hotel porter and bade him open -the shutters of my windows. I lit my candle, took -up pen and paper, and wrote a long letter home. -I took out Vera’s ikon of Martha and Mary, and -put it in front of me. I looked at it and wrote—wrote, -wrote. I told all the happenings of the long -day past, the tramping, the sun, the far away vision -of Aulie Ata, the strange town, the Sart orchestra, -the Armenian garden restaurant, the Hotel London,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> -the fight of the two women, the dream of the dissimulator. -I was afraid the candle would go out before -dawn. Dawn seemed a long time coming. But at -last the nightingales began to sing, <i>p-r-r-r-r</i> ... -<i>sweet</i>, <i>sweet</i>, <i>sweet</i>. A muezzin was calling through -the dark night. How resonant his voice! Somehow -it went with the nightingale’s song.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">A muezzin from the dark tower cries</div> -<div class="verse">Fools, your reward is neither here nor there.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>Again muezzins from the dark mosques of the city. -Suddenly the cocks gave an extraordinary chorus, and -I knew it must be near dawn, and a cart came lumbering -by. Pale rents appeared through the willow -trees that hid the sky. My candle grew little and -yellow and flickering, but it lasted, and I wrote on -and on, page after page, till it was bright morning. -Then I lay down and slept an hour, and I had saved -myself, perhaps, from fever. In any case, I had lived -through a waking nightmare.</p> - -<p>By day Aulie Ata was, perhaps, less mysterious, -but there still remained a sense of remoteness. It -was difficult to imagine European people living there -all the year round and calling it “home.” It is an -oasis, it is true, but it might be truer to call it a -sub-tropical swamp. It is fed by a mountain river, -the Talass, which flows off and loses itself in the -desert. But there is plenty of water and a great -deal of verdure is possible, a very large settlement.</p> - -<p>Aulie Ata has its cathedral standing in the midst<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> -of a pleasant shadowy garden. It has its bazaar, and -its trotting-ground for a horse fair and cattle market. -Here were numbers of Sartish shops where bread -and hot meat-pies were sold. Scores of Kirghiz on -horseback or on bulls blundered about amidst cattle -and mud. Young men were trying horses and showing -their paces; others were making deals in sheep -and goats. The sheep for sale were tied in long or -short knots, threaded by the heads as Russians thread -onions.</p> - -<p>As a general rule a sheep was reckoned as being -equivalent in value to a three-rouble note, and many -of the Kirghiz had brought up their sheep merely -as money, and when they bought six shillings’ worth -of stuff at some shop they detached a sheep from their -coil and passed him on to the shopman. So I saw -for the first time in my life the literal significance of -<i>pecunia</i> as the Romans understood it.<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a></p> - -<p>Aulie Ata is subject to earthquakes, and my -landlady explained how one morning she was washing -the floor of her establishment, bending down over -her floorcloth with her legs apart, and suddenly she -felt her legs going farther apart—by which lively -figure she meant to explain how earthquakes are -felt.</p> - -<p>The chief sights of the city were the caravans of -emigrants toiling onwards towards the farther East. -Here were no farms for them, no encouragement -given to settle. For there is now no particular -political need for the colonisation of Sirdaria; the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> -Russians are far more powerful than the native -population, and could never be overthrown by -an uprising or mutiny. The Government encourages -emigration to the points where it is politically most -advantageous—that is, on the very frontier lines. -The most vigorous irrigation and settlement work -goes on on the frontiers of China, Afghanistan and -Persia. The colonists have a long road in front of -them even after they have reached Aulie Ata. I -myself went on with them.</p> - -<p>The weather changed whilst I was at Aulie Ata; -torrential rain came down, rain brought down by the -mountains, and only deluging their own slopes and -the country in the immediate vicinity. The desert -twenty miles away remained, no doubt, as parched as -ever. The River Talass, in flood outside the town, -presented an unwonted spectacle; the wide, black, -diversified, shingly river, the lowering clouds overhead, -the restless wind from the mountains spitting -and promising rain, the emptiness and dreariness of -the world all around, except at the place where the -bridge should have been—but from which it had been -lately washed away—and there, an ever-increasing -collection of straw or canvas tilted wagons and carts, -and of oxen, camels and horses, all the caravans of -the emigrants, waiting, as it were, for a ferryman -to take them to another world.</p> - -<p>I got over at last on a Kirghiz horse, and was -pretty nearly soaked in the passage. On the other -side was a more desolate country. It was wilder, -more broken, perhaps a little greener, but there were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> -very few farms. Even the Kirghiz seemed of a -poorer and dirtier type. I bought milk at the -Kirghiz tents and bread and eggs at the post stations. -At one post-house I had a chicken cooked for me. -The heat was not so trying on this road, for clouds -had come over and rain had laid the dust. I had a -sense of travelling in the opposite direction of the -way of the seasons. It had been like June in -Tashkent, but here it was early May. Still, the -temperature in the shade must have reached 90° Fahr.</p> - -<p>I slept three nights in the open and tramped -three days before I finally passed out of the province -of Sirdaria and entered the Semiretchenskaya Oblast, -Seven Rivers Land, the remotest of the Tsar’s -dominions, remoter than the Far East, because there -is no communication either by rail or river. On my -right the great chain of mountains with snowy summits -still stretched on, and on my left the everlasting -moorland. More birds appeared on my way, partridges, -bustards, snipe, eagles, cranes. Straying off -the road and up to the first rising ground of the -mountains were a species of little deer, called here -<i>kosuli</i>. Marmots popped in and out of sand burrows, -occasionally falling a prey to day-flying owls. The -jerboa, with long tail and dainty, bird-like legs, was -a pretty visitor, and among insects the green praying-mantis -was noticeable, the cicada a nuisance, -and various spiders and beetles the bane of night-tide. -I was constantly warned against the hairy-legged -<i>falanga</i> and a black spider (the karakurt), -both of which were said to have a mortal bite,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> -though sheep could eat them without harm. Along -the road laborious and stupid-looking beetles rolled -their globular homes of gathered dirt.</p> - -<p>Slow travelling out here is very featureless, and -I grew tired of tramping all day, the emptiness of -the life, and the dullness of mere sun and road as -companions. What was my disappointment the -second noon to lose a lift that would have taken me -thirty versts on at the cost of a rouble. I had just -got up from a siesta under my plaid tent when a -countryman came along with a cart full of clover—food -for his horse—and I bargained with him and got -a seat literally “in clover.” We proceeded thus for -a mile when we came to a mud-built caravanserai, and -stopped to have tea. Up to this inn came presently -another cart from the other direction. It contained -all his wife’s family, the people he had been setting -out to see. They had had a similar impulse to come -and visit him. In that way I lost my lift, and could -hardly share their joy at the happy meeting.</p> - -<p>At Merke, however, the second colonial settlement -in Seven Rivers Land, I hired a <i>troika</i> to Pishpek, -three horses yoked to an <i>arba</i> (a native cart), the -driver a Kirghiz. This is the usual mode of travelling -for Russians on business in Central Asia. The <i>troika</i> -stands instead of the train. But what an impression!</p> - -<p>The Kirghiz driver, in rags and tatters, sitting on -one hip on his bare wooden driving-seat, lounging -to and fro, one shoulder up, one down, flicking -the three galloping horses with his whip, whistling, -shouting.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>The horses bounding along, neck by neck, over -bump, over crevice, over chasm; up hill, down dale, -never slackening (there is no brake to the wooden -<i>arba</i>); coming with a great splash on to a stream, -the <i>arba</i> just floating on it as the horses plunge -through it; out again, up the bank; what matter -stones—even milestones? What a contrast to the -way I crawled along when walking!</p> - -<p>We go along roads that are like dried-up river -beds, over roads little better than mountain tracks. -Ever and anon I am nearly shot out of the cup of -dry clover and hay on which I am sitting. I am -flung against the sides, I grasp at the stained -Joseph coat of the Kirghiz, I clasp him round the -shoulders.</p> - -<p>But the Kirghiz smiles and whistles and shouts -again. The horses whisper hurried secrets to one -another in their rhythmical threefold devouring of -space. We go not by versts or by miles, but by -leagues. There are no steamboats, trains, motor-cars, -aeroplanes in Seven Rivers Land, but the <i>troika</i> -combines these all in one.</p> - -<p>As we go along the level high road the whole -country behind us is blotted out from view by clouds -of our dust. We never hesitate as we dash through -market-places and thronged colonial villages. What -matter who is in the way; the <i>troika</i> goes on straight -ahead, always seeming likely to collide as we dash -towards other carts or charge into passing horsemen, -the averted horses’ faces breathing into my face as -we pass.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>The way is always in the view of the snowy -mountains and comparatively seldom in view of -houses. It is the land of the tent-dwellers, and the -moors are dotted with grey pyramids and columns, -the temporary dwelling-places of the nomads. Now -and then a whole patriarchal family of the wanderers -crosses the road on its journey from the parched -plains up to the greener pasture lands of the hills. -They have their tents and all their goods on camels’ -backs; they drive with them hundreds of head of -sheep and goats and cows and mares. They ride -themselves on camels, horses, bulls; their white-turbaned -wives, often four to each man, ride astride -of bulls, their faces uncovered, babies at their bare -breasts. Brides—girls of thirteen or fourteen—ride -in extraordinary state in their midst, seated on -palfreys with scarlet horsecloths, themselves clad in -bright cottons, their hair in many glistening black -plaits, each loaded with a silver bullet to keep it from -entangling with sister plaits. They also sit astride, -and ride with wonderful grace, as if conscious of -being the treasure of the whole caravan. They are -good to look upon.</p> - -<p>We pass endless lines of wagons drawn by toiling -oxen or little, jaded ponies, and tended by burly -Russian peasants and their plump, laughing, perspiring -womenkind—emigrants going to settle in the -youngest of Russian colonies a thousand miles or -more from a railway station. We have to turn off -the road and tumble over the rough moorland in -order to circumvent hundreds of such emigrant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> -wagons. We overtake and pass the equivalent of -whole goods trains—long strings of lorries and pack-carts -and camels, piled with consignments of goods -to be delivered all along the way from Southern -Siberia on the one hand and from Orenburg and -Tashkent on the other to the limits of the Himalaya -Mountains. We pass, or, as it happens, get -entangled in a mile of camels, each having on its -back a mountain of horsehair or wool, some twenty -couples of dirty camels in a company, each company -led by a Chinese Mohammedan on an ass, a -<i>Dunkan</i>.</p> - -<p>We pass the mud-walled, mud-domed, ace-of-spade-like -tombs of the Kirghiz; we pass ruins of -ancient towers, battered caravanserais. We escape -from the desert into a sort of artificial oasis made by -irrigation—the Russian village or Cossack <i>stanitza</i>. -We change horses.</p> - -<p>At nightfall I overtake a lady going to the town -where her sweetheart lives. She is in a hurry that -brooks no delay. There are only horses for one, so -I offer her a place in my <i>arba</i>. She is accompanied -by many boxes and bags. She wants to go on all -night, no matter——</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_120.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“PAST THE RUINS OF ANCIENT TOWERS”</p> - -<p>Twilight turns to darkness, the moon comes out -fair and large, opposite the setting sun. The clouds -are lit with gentle light and a faint colouring. The -<i>troika</i> goes on and on. I lie full length in the <i>arba</i>, -my head on a pillow which my companion has lent -me, and I look up at the sky. The night is gentle -and touching. The Kirghiz is silhouetted above us;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> -the moon is now shining full upon us; in a moment -it is cut off by the black line of the roof of the -cart, but even then the sky is the more beautiful for -a hidden presence. We sit up and look into the -night landscape.</p> - -<p>The moon gives glimmering illumination to -squads of poplars, waving cornfields, silver streams, -the thatched roofs of cottages, mud huts. The -nightingale sings the short night through, owls hoot, -dogs rush out at us as if they were fired from farm-yards, -but the laconic driver flicks them with his -long whip when they get near the horses’ legs, and -they fall each into the rear and slink back to the dark -yards whence they came.</p> - -<p>We leave behind populous villages, and issue on -to the moors. Night hides the scarlet poppies, but -the air contains their odours. The moon no longer -stands over the black mound of the horizon, but has -climbed over the zenith. The cocks are crowing, my -companion is sleeping, the bells of the <i>troika</i> are -chingle-dingling, chingle-dangling all the time.</p> - -<p>We have to change horses, however. We get a -samovar in the waiting time, and Zinaida—such is -her name—becomes an excited chatterbox. It is -only fifty miles to her goal and her sweetheart. She -tells me how she met him, what sort of life they -will lead when they are married, the name of their -first boy, should they have one.</p> - -<p>Two scalding glasses of tea, and then into the -<i>arba</i> once more, with fresh horses, and a new -Kirghiz driver wakened up to take us. Zinaida’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> -boxes are corded on securely, her bandboxes are -better bestowed away, she makes a more comfortable -arrangement of quilts and pillows, and we lie back -and both fall asleep.</p> - -<p>When next we change horses sun pales the stars. -It is the last change. Twenty miles more and our -winged chariot flies up the courtyard of the town -post-house. I am stiff. Zinaida, however, is as -fresh and nimble as a young deer. A young man -with a pallid face is waiting for her on the post-house -steps, and she jumps down to him in a trice, -and he folds her in his arms and kisses her.</p> - -<p>We passed through Bielovodsk and Novy Troitsky, -the latter being an extensive Cossack station, -where all the village men have red stripes on their -trousers, and where even the little boys riding the -horses in from the steppe have red-striped breeches -cut down from father’s. The Cossacks are soldiers -first and peasants only second or third. Whilst -farming they are understood to be “on leave,” and -when war breaks out they are at once at the direct -service of the Tsar on the field of battle. Novy -Troitsky was a Cossack camp in the days of the conquest -of Central Asia, and when pacification was -consummated the Cossacks were invited to send for -their sweethearts, wives, mothers, families, and settle -on the pick of the land chosen out for them by the -Government. There are many such settlements; they -are called <i>stantsi</i>, or stations, whereas the other -settlements are called <i>derevnyi</i>, villages.</p> - -<p>On the whole, Seven Rivers Land seemed to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> -more fruitful than Northern Sirdaria. The settlements -were very large ones; there were many -enormous villages with schools, churches, big general -stores and several thousand inhabitants. Pishpek, -however, was not quite so large as Aulie Ata. The -populations of the colonial towns on my route may -give an idea of these growing agricultural communities:</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - - -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="4"><small><i>Inhabitants</i></small></td></tr> -<tr><td>Chimkent</td><td class="tdr"> 64</td><td> versts from railway station</td><td class="tdr"> 15,756</td></tr> -<tr><td>Aulie Ata</td><td class="tdr"> 242</td><td><span class="gap"> ”</span> <span class="gap"> ”</span><span class="gap"> ”</span> </td><td class="tdr"> 19,052</td></tr> -<tr><td>Pishpek</td><td class="tdr"> 505</td><td><span class="gap"> ”</span> <span class="gap"> ”</span><span class="gap"> ”</span> </td><td class="tdr"> 16,419</td></tr> -<tr><td>Verney</td><td class="tdr"> 743</td><td><span class="gap"> ”</span> <span class="gap"> ”</span><span class="gap"> ”</span> </td><td class="tdr"> 81,317</td></tr> -<tr><td>Kopal</td><td class="tdr"> 1,102</td><td><span class="gap"> ”</span> <span class="gap"> ”</span><span class="gap"> ”</span> </td><td class="tdr"> 3,966</td></tr> -<tr><td>Sergiopol</td><td class="tdr"> 1,352</td><td><span class="gap"> ”</span> <span class="gap"> ”</span><span class="gap"> ”</span> </td><td class="tdr"> 2,261</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>These figures are taken some years ago, and probably -twenty per cent. should be added to the numbers -now. These are the biggest.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The towns of this colony are not connected with -Western Europe either by rail or waterway, and -there is an unexampled provincialism in the country. -The people are far away by themselves, and they -have consequently developed a distinctive local -patriotism. The Central Asian pioneers are great -talkers about their own country, and they are proud -of everything that marks it out as different from -Russia and the rest of the world. They are proud -of its vast empty spaces, its mountains, its wild -beasts and birds, its tigers, wild boars, aurochs, wild -goats, its falcons, flamingos, partridges; proud of -the Kirghiz, of the tortoises, of the camels—in fact,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> -of anything and everything that seems to mark the -country as original. Its people are all hunters. The -engineer, the “topograph,” the “hydro-technic,” -the land surveyor, the Cossack, the peasant colonist, -all carry the gun. The towel-hooks and hat-pegs in -their houses are goat horns and antlers. The words -of the colonists’ mouths run out in hunting-stories. -All journeys are made on horseback or by post-horses, -and the people are always moving to and fro. -Even the colonists shift about from one settlement -to another—by arrangement with the colonisation -authorities.</p> - -<p>I met many people on my journey: two <i>khodoki</i>, -foot messengers from a village in Kursk government, -sent by the villagers to spy out the land and choose -a plot for colonisation, but now hastening back in -order to be home by St. Peter’s Day and the cutting -of the barley. Land was scarce with them; all in -the hands of the landowners. The population increases—so -many children always are born—but the -free land does not increase. The two <i>khodoki</i> had -not, however, found what they wanted in Semi-retchie, -and were returning to Kursk with a tale of -disillusionment. “They told us it was heaven out -here, and you reaped harvests just after throwing -out the seed. But it appears there is as much work -here as there,” said they.</p> - -<p>I met a commercial traveller, a “<i>voyageur</i>, the -representative of a certain firm,” as he called himself. -He was travelling post-horses, and had a large -chest of travelling samples, which was roped on to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> -the back of his <i>britchka</i>. He was carrying Moscow -cottons in bright assortments of colours and patterns, -and when he came to a town where there -were ten cotton shops he went into each rapidly -and deposited a complete set of his samples, and -left them with the shopkeepers for an hour or so -while he had his dinner and had a shave and a -bath. In that way he met me, resting while the -shopowners and their friends discussed his goods. -Commercial travellers in tea, sugar, cotton, china, -ironware and other dry goods were very frequent on -the road, but were mostly Tartars or Armenians.</p> - -<p>I also met a boy going home from the University -of Kief, going home to Verney, and in a tremendous -hurry to get back to his mother and the girl he left -behind him a year ago. He was “agin the Government,” -and imagined that England was ahead of -Russia in every way, and wondered what the English -would not have done with Central Asia had it been -theirs. “Just think of the wealth in these mountains,” -said he. “Just imagine it; we have not one -mine in this vast territory twice the size of Germany. -We have only one factory—a lemonade factory.”</p> - -<p>“Its destiny seems to be agricultural,” said I.</p> - -<p>“What is student life like at Kief?” I asked. -“Do you meet together much? Are there debates, -literary discussions? What’s in the air?”</p> - -<p>He could not tell me if there was anything in -the air. Life was duller there than formerly. The -students kept more to themselves; but they had a -<i>Semi-retchinsky</i> club. All students from Seven Rivers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> -lived together, and they had musical evenings and -dances. It was pleasant; the <i>Semi-retchenski</i> were -great patriots in their way.</p> - -<p>At Pishpek I had a delightful meeting with a -Government topographer—Nazimof, a man of thirty, -of gentle birth, elegant, graceful, old-fashioned. I -met him at an inn. I had been put into his room by a -grasping landlady who would not confess she was full -up and could take no more visitors. After somewhat -of a “scandal,” raised by the topographer, it -was agreed that I should share his room. Every -corner was occupied with his professional equipment—long -iron map cases with padlocks, chests of instruments, -tent poles, carpet chairs, rolls of canvas, boxes -of books, papers and clothes.</p> - -<p>“Excuse all this,” said he. “I am taking it up -into the mountains as soon as I get news that the -snow has melted a little.”</p> - -<p>He explained that he was on Government service, -charting maps. He was going to live the whole -summer up among the mountain passes and literally -bathe in snow. He would rig up his tents by the -aid of the Kirghiz, hunt, shoot, survey, chart, discover, -without any other fellow-European with whom -to share fellowship.</p> - -<p>We spent two days together in Pishpek, and -talked of many things. His brother had been sent -to Jerusalem this year by the Orthodox Palestine -Society to inquire into the conditions under which -the peasants journeyed and the exploitation of the -aged pilgrims by the steamship company and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> -Greek monks. He had brought back just such a tale -of woe and of happiness as I had myself to tell after -my pilgrimage. A good deal is going to be done to -better the conditions of the pilgrims’ journey, and -there is even a proposal that the Government take -the pilgrims on their own boats. I wondered whether -it was worth while interfering, and I told my own -experiences on that journey and gave my impression; -the telling introduced me.</p> - -<p>My new friend told me how much he wanted to -get away from Seven Rivers Land and see the world. -Once, as a boy on a Russian training-ship, he had -landed at Newcastle, and had seen something of -England—had even slept in a sailors’ rest. He would -like to <i>see</i> England, to come and live there, and -understand the country and the nation, to see -America, also Australia. He liked being up in -the mountains, working by himself in the fresh -mountain air, talking to chance-met Kirghiz, shooting -wild goats and partridges. But by the end of -the summer he would be terribly bored. He would -come down from the mountains, rush into Verney, -complete his maps, and then bolt for Petersburg. -He thirsted for human society all the summer -through.</p> - -<p>He was always dressed in white, and wore a fez -on his shaved head. He sat with me hours in a -bamboo <i>palatka</i> in the one garden restaurant of -Pishpek, and we talked over koumis, over roast -chicken, over tea, over wine. At night, too, when -he lay on a broken-down bedstead and I on a dusty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> -divan, he prattled of his wife and children that he was -sick to leave behind, and of the boy in himself which -made him always seek loneliness and adventures, -however much his heart bade him remain at home.</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t change my lot, but still it is wrong -to marry at twenty, as I did. There are so many -partings and it is a great pain. A young man has -things to do in the world, and he is bound to put -his wife and family in the background; his ties -are his pains. Most happy marriages are made of -men of middle years, when they have made a little -fortune and can take things more easily. When a -stout, old man marries a young girl, moreover, there -is generally a happy, healthy family.”</p> - -<p>“But surely you don’t mean to say that old men -are better fathers than young men?” I urged.</p> - -<p>“Yes; they have fewer stakes in the world. They -are not called on to go and chart the valleys and -peaks of the Thian Shan Mountains. They know -they will not be called on to fight for their country. -They know they’ve got enough money to educate -their children and keep up a good home. They are -not so fretful, not so irritable as young men, but -good natured, easy going, and a pretty girl can make -one do what she desires.”</p> - -<p>I surmised he must have quarrelled with his wife -a little just before leaving, and be sick at heart to -get back home and make it up.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Pishpek, though four hundred miles from a railway -station, is a promising town. The climate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> -seemed to be a hot and dry one, though, of course, -it is easy to be misled by the chances of the weather. -There are long, white streets, with ranks of poplars -on each side, a big market-place, a high road of -shops and colonial stores, many places where <i>Kvass</i> -and aerated waters are sold, garden restaurants. -There is not the atmosphere of mystery that Aulie -Ata has. It is more colonial and less Eastern, -though, of course, there are the inevitable Oriental -hawkers and the native bazaar. Pishpek has a camel -ambulance, a roughly shaped wood-sleigh with enormously -long shafts, to which a Bactrian camel is -yoked. Pishpek also has its lepers, and, as in all -these Eastern towns, there is a great deal of skin -disease, though chiefly among the natives.</p> - -<p>The colonists seemed fairly well-to-do, though -there was little evidence of culture, few books, no -pianos; the cinema, it is true, but that is rather a -sign of poverty. But the Russians seemed thriving -and everyone seemed to have plenty of horses and -cattle. In this country, where wishes are horses, -even the hawker of bootlaces in the bazaar has his -nag tied to a poplar tree near by.</p> - -<p>The Kirghiz going from the parched plains up -into the mountains let me understand the changing -of the season. The road out from Pishpek led into -desolate country, and I was troubled by the heat and -the difficulty of obtaining food and drink. I carried -four pounds of bread with me out of Pishpek, but -that very quickly vanished, some eaten by myself, -some by ants. Ants got into my bread at night and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> -riddled it so that I could not break off a fragment -without an ant appearing in it. I carried two water-bottles -with me, and filled them with milk or water -when I could. Neither milk nor water seemed to -be very good to drink. The best thing out here is -the aerated water, apricot or pineapple; it is very -thirst-quenching and a good corrective to the stomach. -When my European bread gave out I had to eat -<i>lepeshka</i>, which I cannot recommend. It seems a -possible diet when one is hungry, and if you have -wine to wash it down you feel you are making a -beautiful meal. One afternoon, however, I had a -<i>très mauvais quart d’heure</i> after <i>lepeshka</i>. A lump -of it stuck in my gullet and would not go down -and could not come up. I thought I was choked.</p> - -<p>A melancholy native stands with a tray of -<i>lepeshki</i> in the road, and you buy three for five -copecks—three rolls for five farthings. No matter -how hard they are, they can be soaked and softened -in tea. But I often wondered what gave the cement-like -quality to them. On the road I have often felt -that my diet was unsuitable, but never have I had such -indigestion as on a diet of mare’s milk and <i>lepeshka</i>. -It is claimed that mare’s milk is the best thing in the -world for the stomach. Koumis cleanses and fortifies -and freshens everything; it is the mother of the inside. -But it does not dissolve <i>lepeshka</i>. I was told that -it was difficult to tell the difference between champagne -and mare’s milk.</p> - -<p>“But, to start with, one is white,” said I.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s not the colour; it’s the quality.”</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_130.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">A SETTLED KIRGHIZ: ONE OF THE CHARACTERS OF<br /> -PISHPEK</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>“It is best when it is thick.”</p> - -<p>“It’s not a matter of being thick or thin, but in -the tingling taste and the exuberance and happiness -you feel after it.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve nothing to say against koumis.”</p> - -<p>I kept a diary of on what and how I spent my -money on the road, and the entries run like -this:</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table"> - - -<tr><td><i>Monday.</i> </td><td> <small><i>Copecks.</i></small></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Boiling water </td><td class="tdr"> 5</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Koumis</td><td class="tdr"> 10</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2">—</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2">15</td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2"><i>Tuesday.</i></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Boiling water</td><td class="tdr"> 3</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Lepeshka</td><td class="tdr"> 5</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Milk</td><td class="tdr"> 5</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2">—</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2">13</td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2"><i>Wednesday.</i></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Koumis</td><td class="tdr"> 10</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Pilgrim</td><td class="tdr"> 5</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Beggar</td><td class="tdr"> 2</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Milk</td><td class="tdr"> 10</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Kvass</td><td class="tdr"> 3</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2">—</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2">30</td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2"><i>Thursday.</i></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Lepeshka</td><td class="tdr"> 5</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Sheep’s milk</td><td class="tdr"> 5</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Koumis</td><td class="tdr"> 10</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2">—</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2">20</td></tr> - -</table> - -<p>And so on; a poor budget. The greatest disappointments -of this journey were the absence of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> -fuel and the great difficulty of making a fire. It -took something like two hours to collect enough -straw and withered grass and splinters of wood to -make a fire. And the dried camel-dung blocks would -not burn. As I tramped I made it a golden rule to -pick up and put in my knapsack every bit of combustible -material that my eye lighted upon on the -road, but even so it often happened that I had to -buy hot water at some dusty, broken-down caravanserai -or in a Russian inn or from some Tartar draper.</p> - -<p>Night in an inn or post-house or under the resplendent -Asian stars! Hot day toiling over empty moors -and across half-empty deserts, staying in shady Russian -villages, going up the yards of the farmhouses with -my pot in hand asking for milk, drinking about a pint -of milk, and filling my two bottles so that I might -have something better than water with which to -quench my thirst when I was out on the road again; -talking to the farmers; riding behind the reckless -Kirghiz and his three horses; and then night again -and its problems and charms!</p> - -<p>Seventeen versts beyond Pishpek is Constantinovka, -and seventy-one versts, Kurdai. Russian -settlement is rather sparse until Kazanskaya Bogoroditsa -and Linbovinskaya are reached, and these are -in the urban district of Verney, the capital of the -colony. There is an enormous amount of room for -human beings here and, when the railway comes -along and puts stations every twenty miles or so -from European Russia, all the way, to Kuldja -in China.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>After the Cossack village of Linbovinskaya, with -its shops and bazaar, comes the approach to Verney, -and the high road is worn into many tracks and is -broad and deep in dust. Along these come many -equipages and picnic carts with pleasure parties of -Russians, and for the first time since leaving Tashkent -there was a suggestion of the life of a large -provincial town. But, after all, Verney was only a -larger Pishpek.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">IX<br /> - - -<small>THE PIONEERS</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap2">ALL the way to Verney the carts are travelling -eastward, but on the road to Kopal two processions -meet one another; the colonists coming from -Tashkent meet the colonists coming from Omsk and -Semipalatinsk. It struck me that those coming from -the North were a poorer, harder, more jaded people -than those who had accompanied me from the West. -Perhaps that was because the journey from Siberia -was more trying and there was less to eat on the -way, or because the people who came by way of the -northern road were from provinces of Russia where -the standard of living and the average of health were -lower.</p> - -<p>The pioneers were a rugged sort of folk. They -walked with their oxen and horses, they wandered all -over the sandy wastes looking for roots and straws, -and fifty people would spend hours getting enough -fuel to make a fire to boil their pots. They got -covered in white dust; their boots were through; -their feet blistered; their carts broke down or cattle -died; but still the band went on patiently, cheerily. -They went very slowly, and I overtook many bands -as I walked. I would fall in with the caravan at -evening, and listen with an involuntary thrill to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> -great choruses these people sang as they went. They -chaffed one another, gossiped, shouted to the cattle, -sang with as much easy-going cheerfulness as if they -were in their native province and driving the cattle -in from their own pasture lands, and not threading -the road across the silent deserts of Central Asia. I -would see another party afar off at ten in the morning, -a grey-brown mass on the horizon, and catch it -up by twelve noon. And there would be a strange -sight: not a single peasant walking or in sight. Only -the creaking, slowly moving, patient carts and the -clumsy, straining oxen or little ponies, going on by -themselves without the flick of a whip or the whisper -of a master’s voice. And, coming close up to the -wagons, I would hear snoring. The whole caravan -would be sleeping and snoring in the shelter of the -tarpaulin tilts, and yet going ever slowly on, slowly -on, through the blaze of the Asian noon-day, over the -desert, toward the happy valleys of the East.</p> - -<p>I suppose that, but for the instinctive movements -of the Russian people and the seeking spirit, it would -be difficult for the Government to settle these remote -tracts of the Russian Empire. People would not go -simply because of the grants they obtain. It is the -wandering spirit that is the foundation of the Empire. -In Central Asia the officials complain that the people -who come are not like those who remain behind in -Russia; they are the most restless of all Russians. -They have wandered thus far, but they have no wish -to settle down even now. They take up land, build -villages, till the soil, but sure enough after a few<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> -years they are itching to move on farther. The -majority of colonists are people who have come not -direct from Russia, but from some less remote farm -or homestead in Turkestan, Seven Rivers Land, or -Siberia. And these people do not recognise the -arbitrary limits of the Russian Empire, but stray -over in considerable numbers into Persia, Mongolia, -and Chinese Tartary. It is true that the Government -exercises considerable control upon the movements of -the pioneers. It indicates each year what tracts of -territory are open to colonisation, what developments -have been made in the irrigation system, and shows -spots where villages may be built. The colonial -village is not a haphazard growth such as is the -ordinary European village. It does not simply grow; -it is planned by the Government engineers and -indicated in a schedule before ever a single inhabitant -has set eyes on it.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_136.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">THE IRRIGATED DESERT—AN EMBLEM OF RUSSIAN<br /> COLONISATION IN CENTRAL ASIA</p> - -<p>When the harvest has been taken in in Russia -many peasants go on pilgrimage to shrines and many -go out in quest of new land. The <i>khodoki</i>, or -walkers, set out. A village or a family sends out a -messenger to seek new land; this messenger is called -a <i>khodok</i>. The <i>khodoki</i> are specially encouraged by -the Government. The police will not allow a whole -village to take to the road and go off all together in -quest of land; they insist on the <i>khodok</i> going first -and booking something in advance. Very great reductions -are made in railway fares and great facilities are -given to the <i>khodoki</i>, who go forth and look at all -the valleys and irrigated levels at the disposal of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> -colonists during the year in question. They travel in -twos and threes, one <i>khodok</i> being required for each -three families.</p> - -<p>When the <i>khodoki</i> come back, after three weeks, -or it may be three months, or three years, there is -necessarily tremendous excitement in the village. They -cannot then disclaim the <i>khodok’s</i> authority to have -taken land in their name, or in any case they very -seldom do disclaim it. It often happens, of course, -that the <i>khodoki</i> return saying that they have found -nothing better than their own land and their own -village, and that, consequently, they do not recommend -a move. Many of the <i>khodoki</i> I met on the -road were well-to-do peasants who had a stake in the -old country and would not readily advise their constituent -villagers to sell out and come to Central Asia. -Still, more than half of the messengers sent out come -back with a positive message. They have found and -taken land.</p> - -<p>Whether the <i>khodok</i> has done well or ill, the -families set out. It happens occasionally that the -messengers choose death-traps and places of eternal -desolation, and they are terribly blamed. But it -ought to be remembered that Government engineers -and agricultural specialists have indicated the sites as -possible before ever the <i>khodoki</i> set eyes on them; -or a Russian general, visiting a district, has said: -“Plant fifteen villages on the eastern slopes of this -range of hills,” or “twenty villages along this -valley,” and it has been done simply because he -wanted Russian villages for strategical considerations.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>The manner of settling the Empire is so interesting -to us that I append a summary of the information -given to all Russians desirous to emigrate to -the Russian colonies. This is for the year 1914:</p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>The provinces open to colonisation this year are -those of Uralsk, Turgaisk, Akmolinsk, Semipalatinsk, -Seven Rivers, Tobolsk, Tomsk, Yenisei, Irkutsk, -Transbaikal, Amur, and Primorsk. Also Yakutsk, -Sakhalin, and Kamchatka.</p> - -<p><i>The following people are allowed to settle beyond -the Ural.</i>—All peasants and <i>meshtchane</i>, those engaged -exclusively in agriculture, and also artisans, workmen, -factory hands, merchants and shopkeepers. -People of other classes must, before emigrating, -apply to the governor of the province in which they -live.</p> - -<p><i>The Government invites no one to emigrate, and -is anxious only to show all possible help to those who -have decided to take that step, and to make the emigration -laws and the grants and privileges accorded to -colonists clear to everyone.</i></p> - - -<h3>EMIGRATION OF AGRICULTURISTS</h3> - -<p><i>All agriculturists thinking of crossing into Asia -should first think well: Is there not some way of -improving the home land and remaining on it?</i></p> - -<p>Having become owners of your land at home (by -the completion of purchase after the liberation from -serfdom), it is possible to let part of it out to others,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> -or by careful culture greatly increase the harvest, or -you can mortgage it to the Peasants’ Bank and buy -other land, either in your own or in a neighbouring -province.</p> - -<p>It is another matter when the land you possess is -so little that there is none to let out or mortgage, -or when it is difficult to buy suitable land at all near, -when the land offered by Government or private -owners becomes year by year less and the prices year -by year higher.</p> - -<p>Then it is worth while considering the question -of emigration to Asiatic Russia, where there is still -much space. The Government assigns land to the -extent of 25-50 dessiatinas a farm or 8-15 dessiatinas -for each male soul. Or it is possible to settle in a -village or Cossack station by special arrangement, -and lease land cheaply from settled colonists. To -enable people to travel to such places the Government -helps with cheap tariffs and money grants.</p> - -<p>During the past seven years more than three -million souls have firmly established themselves in -this way, and in many places it may be said that the -colonists have become rich and live in a more flourishing -way than they did on the old lands at home. -But it must be remembered that such results are not -attained at once. It is not a little heavy labour, grief -and poverty that have to be undergone during the -first years in the new place. Not every family has -the strength to bear such trial. It is reckoned that -of every hundred families going across the Ural fifteen -return to the old country after having failed to take<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> -root in the new. It is hard for families where the -general health is weak, where there are not good -working hands, or where there is no money whatever -to start with. Such families would do better not to -stir; better to work a bit more on the home lands till -they get some means to take up new land and try and -develop it.</p> - - -<h3>THE EMIGRATION OF FACTORY HANDS AND -ARTISANS</h3> - -<p>The towns and villages are greatly in need of -people knowing trades. Especially great is the need -in the provinces of Amur, Primorsk, and Transbaikal, -where railways, fortresses, and barracks are -being built, and where mining, fishing and lumbering -are in full swing. More than a hundred thousand -men are employed annually on the Government -works alone, and private firms want more. Unskilled -labourers, brickmakers, joiners, diggers, bricklayers, -sawyers, locksmiths, glaziers, miners, and anyone who -has any special knowledge or knack, willing hands -and a heart to work.</p> - -<p>Wages are higher than in European Russia, and -all manner of help is given in transport. There is a -great reduction of fares on the Siberian Railway, and -every <i>artel</i> of workmen contracted for the Government, -and also for many private businesses in connection -with lumbering and fisheries, is transported -to its field of work <span class="allsmcap">FREE OF CHARGE</span> and taken back -at specially cheap rates.</p> - -<p>Many of those who go out with <i>artels</i> like the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> -country and the conditions so much that they prefer -to stay and take up plots of land and settle.</p> - - -<h3>WHERE AND HOW IS IT POSSIBLE TO SETTLE?</h3> - -<p>In the provinces open for colonisation there are a -great number of specially chosen plots of Government -land at the disposal of individuals or of numbers -electing to farm and work together. The names of -peasants electing to see these or choose one of them -are gratuitously enrolled by the emigration officials. -In the more settled and inhabited places of Siberia, -Turkestan and Seven Rivers Land, where land has -now obtained a considerable value, there are also -special plots marked out by the Government, and -these may be bought. Also in many peasant settlements -and Cossack stations there are wide stretches -of land granted by the Government to the Cossacks -or sold in time past to freed serfs, and on these it is -possible to settle when arrangements can be made -privately with the peasants or the Cossacks, as the -case may be. Finally, it is also possible to lease land -or to buy it from private individuals.</p> - - -<h3>TO WHOM DOES THE GOVERNMENT GIVE HELP?</h3> - -<p>Although emigration is permitted to all who wish, -yet, in order to enjoy the advantages of Governmental -help and grants in aid, it is necessary that families -should first send out messengers, and should await -their return before setting out themselves. This is -only enforced by the Government in order to save -the people from the ruin which often follows unconsidered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> -and frivolous emigration. It should be -remembered that all who have not obtained land in -advance through their messengers (<i>khodoki</i>) will find -that they have to take their turn last in the selection -of plots of land.</p> - - -<h3>THE SENDING OF MESSENGERS (KHODOKI)</h3> - -<p>Any peasant or town family occupying itself with -agriculture can now send out a <i>khodok</i>, and it is now -allowed to send one <i>khodok</i> to represent several -families, but not more than five. What is more, any -working man, artisan or tradesman can obtain a -<i>khodok’s</i> certificate without difficulty, and can make -the journey to the places of colonisation and become -acquainted with the local conditions.</p> - -<p>The faithful <i>khodok</i> should make a thorough -study of conditions of life in the new places, consider -carefully all the plots of land offered, and, -choosing the most suitable, inscribe his name for it -according to the regulations. The <i>khodok</i> must not -set off without his certificate, for only by showing -the certificate can he travel at reduced rates or be -recognised by the officials in Turkestan or Siberia.</p> - -<p>In Seven Rivers Land and the other provinces of -Turkestan no permission is given to people of other -than the Russian race or the Orthodox religion. In -the case of Old Believers and other sects whose -teaching forbids military service, no permission can -be granted to settle—therefore, no Molokans, Baptists -or Seventh Day Adventists are allowed to settle -anywhere in Turkestan.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>The certificates, both for <i>khodoki</i> and emigrating -families, are given gratuitously. The <i>khodok</i> certificate -for 1913 is printed on yellow paper, the colonists’ -on rose-coloured paper, and the tariff certificate on -green.<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a></p> - -<p>The most convenient time for looking over the -plots of land is from April till June, but the best -are taken up very quickly at the beginning of spring; -many people of foresight get to the various points in -the winter in order to form an idea of the winter life -of the district and to be on the spot when the new -plots are laid open in the early spring.</p> - -<p>In order to make it easier for the messengers -and to decrease the expense, <i>khodoki</i> are advised to -go in groups and not alone. A party together always -fares better than separate people can, and more -trouble is necessarily taken for them.</p> - -<p><i>Khodoki</i> often take very little money with them, -and, through poverty, are obliged to return without -having found the land they want. It is not possible -to find suitable land at once; it is necessary to go to -various places and look at many farms. For that, -time and money are both necessary.</p> - -<p>It is not thought wise to answer advertisements -or apply at offices where the promise of arranging -everything is made. It is impossible to take up land -except through application to the emigration officials, -and they do their work without making any charge. -Everyone who promises to obtain an option on a plot<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> -of Government land after the payment of a fee is -practising deceit, and complaint should be lodged at -the Emigration Department in St. Petersburg. -(Postal address: St. Petersburg Emigration Department, -Morskaya 42. Telegraphic address: St. Petersburg, -Emigrant.)</p> - -<p><i>Khodoki</i> should remember that many of the free -plots of land indicated in the booklet may have been -allotted to other people before their arrival. So it -is, generally speaking, wise to take a wide view of -the possible places of settlement. <i>Khodoki</i> should -obtain the full list of plots offered by the Government. -This list can be obtained at Seezran station, at -Orenburg, Iletsk, Ak-bulak, Jurun, Arees, Tashkent.</p> - -<p>The following reductions are made in railway and -steamer fares for messengers and colonists and their -families, and also in the charges for baggage:</p> - -<p>1. People holding certificates as colonists or -messengers of colonists are taken on all railways at -a reduced fare—at a fourth of the cost of a third-class -ticket—and they are accommodated in the grey -wagons of the fourth class, or, in the absence of -these, in goods trains. Children up to ten years of -age are carried free.</p> - -<p>2. Baggage is taken on the same train as that by -which the colonists travel, and is charged at the rate -of one hundredth part of a farthing per pood per -verst, the first pood per ticket going free. Horses -and horned cattle are taken at half a farthing per -head per verst, and small domestic animals at a -quarter of a farthing per head per verst. Fowls and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> -small animals in cages or baskets are charged by -weight as if they were ordinary baggage.</p> - -<p>3. Baggage is divided into three categories.</p> - -<p><i>First category.</i>—Domestic goods and furniture in -packing cases; more than eight poods per person of -either sex cannot be taken at this rate.</p> - -<p><i>Second category.</i>—Animals, carts, agricultural -machinery, guns, provisions, can only be taken to -the number and extent shown on the back of the -tariff certificate.</p> - -<p><i>Third category.</i>—Grain, flour, seed, trees and -vines can only be taken up to ten poods per person.</p> - -<p>Beyond these limits baggage must be taken at the -general commercial tariff.</p> - -<p>In the case of loss the railway undertakes to pay -the owner forty roubles a pood for baggage in the -first category (though not more than 120 roubles for -each ticket), six roubles a pood for the second category, -and a rouble and a half a pood for the third -category.</p> - - - -<h3><span class="smcap">Table of Distances</span></h3> -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table"> - - -<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td class="tdc"><small><i>Approximate</i></small></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td class="tdc"><small><i>equivalent</i></small></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdc"><small><i>Versts.</i></small> </td><td class="tdc"><small><i>in miles.</i></small></td></tr> - -<tr><td>From St. Petersburg to— </td><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Omsk</td><td class="tdc"> 2,937</td><td class="tdc"> 1,958</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Semipalatinsk </td><td class="tdc"> 3,666</td><td class="tdc"> 2,444</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Tashkent</td><td class="tdc"> 3,727</td><td class="tdc"> 2,484</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Vladivostock</td><td class="tdc"> 8,268</td><td class="tdc"> 5,512</td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="3">From Moscow to— </td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Omsk</td><td class="tdc"> 2,681</td><td class="tdc"> 1,794</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Semipalatinsk</td><td class="tdc"> 3,410</td><td class="tdc"> 2,340</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Tashkent</td><td class="tdc"> 3,123</td><td class="tdc"> 2,082</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Vladivostock</td><td class="tdc"> 8,012</td><td class="tdc"> 5,340</td></tr> - - - -<tr><td colspan="3">From Odessa to— <span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> </td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Omsk</td><td class="tdc"> 3,784</td><td class="tdc"> 2,522</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Semipalatinsk</td><td class="tdc"> 4,518</td><td class="tdc"> 3,008</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Tashkent</td><td class="tdc"> 4,536</td><td class="tdc"> 3,024</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Vladivostock</td><td class="tdc"> 9,115</td><td class="tdc"> 6,076</td></tr> -</table> - - -<h3><span class="smcap">Table of Railway Fares for Emigrants</span></h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table"> - -<tr><td><small><i>No. of<br />versts.</i></small></td> - -<td><small><i> Equivalent <br /> in miles.</i></small></td> - -<td colspan="2"><small><i> Cost of ticket<br /> in roubles.</i><a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a></small></td> - -<td colspan="2"><small><i> Equivalent<br /> in shillings.</i></small></td></tr> - - -<tr><td colspan="2"> </td><td class="tdr"><small><i>rbls.</i></small></td><td class="tdc"> <small><i>copks.</i></small></td><td class="tdr"> <small><i>s.</i></small></td><td class="tdr"> <small><i>d.</i></small></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr"> 750</td><td class="tdr"> 500</td><td class="tdr"> 1</td><td class="tdc"> 80</td><td class="tdr"> 2</td><td class="tdr"> 8</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">1,500</td><td class="tdr"> 1,000</td><td class="tdr"> 2</td><td class="tdc"> 80</td><td class="tdr"> 4</td><td class="tdr"> 2</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">2,250</td><td class="tdr"> 1,500</td><td class="tdr"> 3</td><td class="tdc"> 65</td><td class="tdr"> 5</td><td class="tdr"> 5</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">3,000</td><td class="tdr"> 2,000</td><td class="tdr"> 4</td><td class="tdc"> 45</td><td class="tdr"> 6</td><td class="tdr"> 7</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">3,750</td><td class="tdr"> 2,500</td><td class="tdr"> 5</td><td class="tdc"> 55</td><td class="tdr"> 8</td><td class="tdr"> 3</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">4,500</td><td class="tdr"> 3,000</td><td class="tdr"> 6</td><td class="tdc"> 65</td><td class="tdr"> 9</td><td class="tdr"> 11</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">5,250</td><td class="tdr"> 3,500</td><td class="tdr"> 7</td><td class="tdc"> 65</td><td class="tdr"> 11</td><td class="tdr"> 5</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">6,000</td><td class="tdr"> 4,000</td><td class="tdr"> 8</td><td class="tdc"> 75</td><td class="tdr"> 13</td><td class="tdr"> 0</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">7,500</td><td class="tdr"> 5,000</td><td class="tdr"> 10</td><td class="tdc"> 95</td><td class="tdr"> 16</td><td class="tdr"> 4</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">9,000</td><td class="tdr"> 6,000</td><td class="tdr"> 13</td><td class="tdc"> 05</td><td class="tdr"> 19</td><td class="tdr"> 7</td></tr> - -</table> - - -<h3><span class="smcap">Baggage Tariff for Emigrants</span></h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table"> - -<tr><td colspan="2">To carry 3 poods (i.e. 1 cwt.)—</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">1,000 versts</td><td class="tdl"> 30 copecks (i.e. about 6d.).</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">5,000<span class="gap2">”</span> </td><td class="tdl"> 1 rouble 50 copecks (2s. 3d.).</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">9,000<span class="gap2">”</span> </td><td class="tdl"> 2 roubles 70<span class="gap3"> ”</span><span class="gap2"> (4s.).</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2">To carry 30 poods (i.e. ½ ton)—</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">1,000 versts</td><td class="tdl"> 3 roubles (4s. 6d.).</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">5,000<span class="gap2">”</span> </td><td class="tdl">15<span class="gap3">”</span><span class="gap3"> (22s. 6d.).</span></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">9,000<span class="gap2">”</span> </td><td class="tdl">27<span class="gap3">”</span><span class="gap3"> (40s. 6d.).</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">And other amounts and distances proportionately.</td></tr> - -</table> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span></p> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Charges on the Rivers</span></h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table"> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdc"><small><i>Fare in<br />roubles.<br />rbls. copks.</i></small></td> - -<td class="tdc" valign="bottom"><small><i>Baggage<br /> per pood.</i></small></td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="3">From Omsk to—</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Pavlodar</td><td class="tdc"> 3 20</td><td> 20 copecks</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Semipalatinsk</td><td class="tdc"> 4 80</td><td> 25<span class="gap2"> ”</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td>From Krasnoyarsk to—</td><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Batenei</td><td class="tdc"> 2 50</td><td> 16<span class="gap2"> ”</span></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Minusinsk</td><td class="tdc"> 2 80</td><td> 18 <span class="gap2">”</span></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>At the larger stations and piers colonists’ shelters -have been built; free medical aid is given, and hot -food is served out cheap (for instance, a plate of -lenten or of ordinary soup, four copecks—one -penny).</p> - -<p>To children up to ten years of age and to sick -persons, hot food is given free. To small children -(up to three years), white bread and milk is given -free.</p> - -<p>People who become ill of infectious diseases are -removed to the Government hospitals and treated -free.</p> - -<p>At the great emigration stations beware of -swindlers and charlatans, of whom there are not a -few. It goes without saying that even the poorest -emigrants have a little money, and they stand to -lose even that if they are not careful. Beware of -loiterers, card games with unknown persons, pick-pockets, -robbers. Hide your money in a place where -it cannot be stolen. Do not accept drinks of vodka -or beer from unknown people. It is a common trick -to scatter thorn-apple seed in vodka; the colonist<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> -loses consciousness, and is robbed. Many people have -suffered in this way through lack of caution.</p> - -<p>If on the road you purchase cattle or horses, -obtain a certificate of purchase, or else the persons -from whom you have bought may come back and -declare that you have stolen what you bought.</p> - - -<h3>SEVEN RIVERS PROVINCE (<i>Semiretchenskaya Oblast</i>)</h3> - -<p>One of the most remote Central Asian possessions -of Russia, remarkable for its natural wealth and the -beauty of Nature.</p> - -<p>The route thither is either by rail to Tashkent or -by rail to Omsk, and up the River Irtish to Semipalatinsk, -and then 500 to 1,000 versts or more by -road.</p> - -<p>It is bounded on the south and east by China, -on the north by the province of Semipalatinsk, on -the west by the provinces of Sirdaria and Ferghan.</p> - -<p>The principal inhabitants are wandering Kirghiz, -of whom there are about one million. The Russians -number about 200,000, and there are about 200,000 -of other races. Half the Russian population is -Cossack.</p> - -<p>The province is divided into the jurisdictions of -Verney, Pishpek, Przhevalsk, Jarkent, Kopal and -Lepsinsk.</p> - -<p>The northern districts of Lepsinsk and Kopal are -specially suitable for agricultural settlement, and there -is much land there not needing irrigation, as there is -comparatively much water.</p> - -<p>In the districts of Verney, Jarkent and Pishpek<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> -irrigation is generally necessary. Free plots of land -are mostly in the district of Jarkent and on the -frontier of China. When the railway has been -brought across to Verney, trade will certainly -develop, so the sale of products will be facilitated -and the conditions of farming very profitable.</p> - -<p>Then the southern parts of the province are very -mountainous. Fruitful valleys are separated by great -ranges, but with time a road system will be developed -and this difficulty overcome.</p> - -<p>A railway will soon be built from Tashkent to -Verney.</p> - -<p>There are as yet no steamers. The largest river, -the Ili, crosses the centre of the province. Besides the -Ili there are many mountain streams and also large -lakes; among the latter may be named Balkhash, -Alakul, Issik-Kul.</p> - -<p>The climate is very varied, there being levels of -eternal snow and of burning sand. The chief occupations -of the colonists are cattle farming and all -branches of agriculture. A well-watered farm gives, -as a rule, a rich and abundant harvest.</p> - -<p>Wheat is sown (from 7 to 10 poods the dessiatina), -rye oats (8 to 14 poods), millet, peas, potatoes, -maize, sunflowers, mustard, flax, hemp, poppy, buckwheat, -etc. And the harvest gives wheat up to 150 -poods the dessiatina, oats give from 70 to 120 poods -the dessiatina, and barley 90 poods. In the districts -of Pishpek, Jarkent and Verney rice is sown, and -gives 100 roubles the dessiatina clear profit. Orchards -are cultivated almost everywhere with success.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span></p> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Prices</span></h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - - -<tr><td>Wheat</td><td> 30 to 80 copecks the pood.</td></tr> -<tr><td>Rye</td><td> 30 to 60 <span class="gap3"> ” </span><span class="gap"> ”</span></td></tr> -<tr><td>Oats</td><td> 30 to 60 <span class="gap3"> ” </span><span class="gap"> ”</span></td></tr> -<tr><td>Barley</td><td> 30 to 70 <span class="gap3"> ” </span><span class="gap"> ”</span></td></tr> -<tr><td>A horse costs</td><td> 45 roubles</td></tr> -<tr><td>A cow costs</td><td> 25 to 30 roubles</td></tr> -<tr><td>A camel costs </td><td> 50 roubles</td></tr> -<tr><td>A sheep costs</td><td> 3 to 5 roubles</td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top">Labour costs</td><td> from 70 copecks to 1 rouble<br /> 50 copecks the day.</td></tr> -</table> - - -<h3>GOVERNMENT GRANTS</h3> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In the measure of 100 roubles the family is -given in the districts of Pishpek and Verney, except -for certain special districts where colonisation proceeds -without loans. A hundred roubles are also -given to settlers in the district of Kopal, excepting -the survey of Altin-Emel and certain plots in the -valley of the River Chu and also in the neighbourhood -of the Lake Issik-Kul.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) In the measure of 200 roubles the family -in the northern parts of the district of Jarkent -and in the survey of Altin-Emel in the district -of Kopal.</p> - -<p>In the southern and eastern frontier region half -the loan is reckoned as not returnable to the Government.</p> - -<p>In the artificially watered tracts in the districts of -Verney and Pishpek no grants are made.</p> - -<p>Beyond personal loans special grants are made for -purposes of supplying general needs, for the building<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> -of schools, churches, village barns, mills, brick factories -and irrigation works. For the poorer districts -the Government takes upon itself the burden of -building schools and churches, and hundreds of -thousands of roubles are spent annually for this -purpose. The Government also sinks wells for the -colonists.</p> - -<p>Personal loans are repayable by instalments after -five years. The first five years there is no need to -repay anything, but during the succeeding ten years -after that the whole should be cleared off.</p> - -<p>General loans are repayable within ten years.</p> - - -<h3>TAXES</h3> - -<p>Settlers are free of all Governmental charges and -taxes for the first five years. During the second -five years half has to be paid, and after ten years -settlers take their stand with the established -colonists.</p> - - -<h3>MILITARY SERVICE</h3> - -<p>Settlers over 18 years at the time of settlement -are allowed to postpone their starting service for -three years.</p> - -<p>In Turkestan six years’ grace is given to all over -15 years of age.</p> - - -<h3>TIMBER</h3> - -<p>When there is no timber, the Government provides -free wood for building purposes—from the -nearest Crown forest.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span></p> - -<h3>TURKESTAN</h3> - -<p>Though, generally speaking, Turkestan is shut for -the purposes of immigration, nevertheless a great -number of people go there every year, there being -a great demand for labour of all kinds. Cotton -growers give even as much as two roubles fifty -copecks per day. Good wages are paid on the -irrigation works. Artisans are needed in the towns -and villages. Turkestan is rich, and can support any -working man who goes there. It is good to go -there and make some money before taking up land, -and also to get some experience of the climate and -conditions. As regards the taking up of land when -allowed, grants in the measure of 165 roubles are -given in the provinces of Sirdaria, Samarkand and -Ferghan, and in the measure of 250 roubles to -settlers in the frontier regions of Zaalaisk and Pamir, -half of which is not returnable.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_152.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">THE SHADY VILLAGE STREET—ONE LONG LINE OF WILLOWS AND POPLARS</p> - -<p>It is impossible to give the whole of this -“combined circular” in extenso, but I think I have -included or summarised all that is vital. It indicates -the scaffolding of empire building. The people at -home feel cramped or restless. They send out their -<span class="smcap">khodoki</span>, the pioneer messengers. The messengers -select a portion of new land and return to Russia. -The families of the emigrants follow. But first they -must sell off or abandon all manner of cumbersome -property; and good-bye has to be said to friends, to -the old village, to church and churchyard, and the -dead. Most difficult of all for many Russians is the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> -leaving the dead behind. There is the whole agony -of separation, the being cut off from Russia and -going forth as a new child into Siberia or Central -Asia. Then the long, monotonous train journey, and -the road journey at the end of it; the caravan on -the Central Asian road, and it is in the caravan -that the colonists begin to taste of new life, and -many feel they would like to go on wandering so all -their lives. But they reach the place the messenger -has found for them, and then commences the great -work of making a habitation of man where no habitation -has ever been before. Prayers and thanksgiving, -and then work. There is no possible living -without work, and the rather easy-going ways of the -old land have to be given up and a new life begun -of arduous labour and unflagging energy. To their -aid comes hope and the passion for making all -things new. No Russian would work so much were -it not interesting; it is real life, the wine of -experience.</p> - -<p>First of all, trees are planted. How pathetic to -see the long rows of three-foot-high poplar shoots -and willow twigs! A month on this sun-beaten road -leaves no doubt in the emigrant’s mind as to what -is the first necessity—shade, shade. Trees are planted -all along the main Government dyke. The colonist -chooses the place for his house; he digs a trench -all round it and lets in water from the dyke, and he -plants trees along the trench. Then he buys stout -poplar trunks and willow trunks, and makes the -framework of his cottage. He interlaces little willow<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> -twigs, and makes the sort of wilted green, slightly -shady, slightly sunny house that children might put -up in a wood in England. But that is only the -beginning. To the willow house he slaps on mud -puddings. This is the filthiest work. He makes a -great quantity of mud, and treads it up and down -with his bare feet till he gets the consistency he -requires, and then, with his hand, fetches out sloppy -lumps of it and builds his walls. In a few days -the mud hardens, and he has a shady and substantial -dwelling, and one that in an earthquake will swing -but will not collapse. His roof he makes of prairie -grass, great reeds ten feet to fifteen feet in length -and thick and strong, or of willow twigs again and -turf. In his second year he has a little hay harvest -on his roof. He ploughs his little bit of desert. He -exchanges some of his oxen for cows. He strives -with all his power—as does a transplanted flower—to -take root. He looks forlorn. You look at his -poor estate and say: “It is a poor experiment. The -sun is too strong for him; he will just wither off, -and the desert will be as before.” But you come -another day and you see a change, and exclaim: -“He has taken root, after all; there is a shoot of -young life there, tender and green.” Along the road -I noticed villages of all ages; of this year, of last -year, of four years gone, of twenty years, forty -years.</p> - -<p>There are now several thousand Russian villages -in Central Asia—year by year scores of new names -creep into the map in faint <i>italics</i>. It is astonishing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span> -to English eyes, because we are accustomed to think -that maps of Asia do not change. We like to -preserve the old Asiatic names of places, and our -map-makers seem to have prejudice in favour of -Teuton nomenclature similar to the prejudice for -spelling the names of Russian places with German -pronunciation equivalents. Asia becomes predominantly -Russian, and not by virtue of troops stationed -at outlandish posts, but by virtue of this process of -settling.</p> - -<p>The process of colonisation is, however, slower -than the process of colonising the British Empire. -The population is said to increase at a greater rate, -but the organic development is slower. The facilities -for getting to Siberia and Central Asia are greater, -but the prospect held out is not so alluring, not so -fascinating. There is more work to be done by the -immigrant here than in Canada or Australia or -Africa. There are no large fortunes to be made in -a few years, no speculative chances, no great whirling -wheel of life set going. On the other hand, Russian -colonisation is sounder colonisation, more solid and -lasting. It has a better quality and it promises more -for the future, unless we British are going to wake -up to the facts of our situation.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">X<br /> - - -<small>FELLOW-TRAVELLERS</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT is not necessary to say much about Verney, the -capital of Seven Rivers Land. It is so subject -to earthquakes that it is difficult to see in it a -permanent capital. No houses of two storeys can -with safety be built, so it is more suited to remain -a military centre and fortress than to be a great city. -In order to look imposing, shops and stores have -fixed up sham upper storeys; that is, they have -window-fronts up above, but no rooms behind the -fronts. Singer and the cinema are here, though an -enormous number of Singer shops have been compulsorily -closed all over the Russian Empire during -the war. Verney has its bazaar, its inns and doubtful -houses, its baths, dance halls, clubs, restaurants. -Although it is so far from a railway station and such -an enormous distance from the wicked West, it has -its frivolity and sin and small crime. It has no -electric cars. It has no Bond Street or West End. -One may say, however, that it has its Covent Garden. -Verney is a great market for fruit and vegetables. -Its native name means the city of apples, and for -apples it is famous. All travellers from China are -given Verney apples when they pass through. Carts -heaped high with giant red radishes are driven through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> -the town, and the strawberry hawkers make many -cries. Many horses are adorned with fancy garments, -and I noticed donkeys with trousers on. Women -ride about astride, and are evidently used to horseback, -tripping along leaning forward over the horse -as it springs to a gallop, sedately coming up the -high street at a walk, erect like little fat soldiers. -Then, Kirghiz women astride of bulls are to be -seen, and I saw one carrying twin babies and yet -on bull-back, dexterously holding the cord from the -ring in the animal’s nose, and guiding it whither it -should go. Verney has its newspaper. It has some -hope of culture, and in the High School two dozen -students matriculate each year and go off to the -Universities of Kief, Moscow, and so on. Verney -folk are grumblers at home, but when they get to -Russia they develop great local patriotism and sigh -for a bit of Verney bread, even of the stale bread of -Verney. At the Universities the students of Seven -Rivers Land keep together, and know themselves as -a body having certain views and opinions of their -own. Then, after their course, they come back to -their home land and bring tidings of Russia. I talked -with some students, and found them not unlike our -own colonial students in their outlook and their -attitude to the Empire. They help, but, of course, -a far away place like this needs a lot of helping in -the matter of culture. They bring back books and -musical instruments. When I went out at night, -strolling through the moon-illuminated city, I listened -to the tinkling of pianos, and it was interesting to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> -reflect that each instrument, besides coming thousands -of miles by train, had also come five hundred -miles in a wagon along these Central Asian roads.</p> - -<p>There is a suggestion of America in the life out -here. When you ask the way you are directed by -blocks, not by turnings, and you may be sure the -town is a planned one, with the streets running at -right angles to one another. Only Nature, with her -earthquakes, has tumbled it, given you chasms to -jump over, and made it dangerous to walk in the -outskirts of the town at night. There is much -advertisement of wares and of persons, and a keenness -to prosper and get rich. “Getting rich flatters -your self-esteem,” I read, and again, “Buy Indian -tea and get rich.” It is quite clear to me that -buying Indian tea really makes poorer, for it is -altogether inferior to Russian tea; but, then, these -people have not our experience, they do not know -the history of tea-drinking in England; how once -we also had good tea, but that, in the national -passion for cheapness and “getting rich,” we have -come to drink popularly that vile thick stuff we now -call tea. Verney has its rich bourgeois—rich for -Verney—men with ten or twenty thousand pounds -capital. Among such is, or was (for perhaps he has -been interned or expelled), a German sausage-maker, -who started his career in the market-place with five -pounds of sausages on a plate, and is now a respected -merchant with shops and branch shops and a fame for -sausages throughout Central Asia.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_158.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. SOPHIA AT VERNEY—AFTER<br /> THE EARTHQUAKE OF 1887</p> - -<p>The local newspaper had made some sort of record<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> -of the cinema films that were shown in the five towns -of Seven Rivers and analysed them in this way:</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - -<tr><td>Scientific</td><td class="tdr"> 2</td><td> per cent.</td></tr> -<tr><td>Historical</td><td class="tdr"> 3</td><td> <span class="gap3"> ”</span></td></tr> -<tr><td>Industrial</td><td class="tdr"> 3</td><td> <span class="gap3"> ”</span></td></tr> -<tr><td>Nature</td><td class="tdr"> 4</td><td> <span class="gap3"> ”</span></td></tr> -<tr><td>Farce</td><td class="tdr"> 20</td><td> <span class="gap3"> ”</span></td></tr> -<tr><td>Lurid drama</td><td class="tdr"> 60</td><td> <span class="gap3"> ”</span></td></tr> -<tr><td>Polite drama </td><td class="tdr"> 8</td><td> <span class="gap3"> ”</span></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>Which seemed to give a fair account of its civilising -force. I visited three or four cinemas at various -remote places, and was astonished at the French and -Italian horrors, German and Scandinavian bourgeois -funniosities, ghastly white-slave tragedies, and many -visualised penny dreadfuls. When you see the crowds -of Russians at these performances you realise that the -penny dreadful is by no means played out, that many -people did not in the old times read the penny dreadful -just because they did not know what lay between -the covers of those badly printed books, what enthralling -rubbish. The business has changed hands commercially, -but the thing sold is the same. It is -sold in a more acceptable form—that is all.</p> - -<p>Astonishing to see the yellow men of Asia staring -at the cinema: the turbaned Sart; the new Chinaman, -with cropped pigtail; the baby-like Kirghiz. -Whatever do they make of American business -romances and the Wild West and Red Rube and -Max? They seem engrossed, smile irrelevantly, stare, -go out, but always come again. The cinema is a -queer window on to Europe and the West.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>The road from Verney to Iliisk, on the River Ili, -seemed more deserted than the road to Verney had -been. Many parties of pioneers evidently turn south -at Verney, and not so many turn north-east towards -Iliisk. It is waste territory, overgrown with coarse -grass and thistles. There are occasional mountain -rivulets, bridged on the roadway with straw and -mud bridges much higher than the level of the -road, so that every bridge is a sort of hump. -Behind me and behind Verney immense steep -mountains lifted themselves up into the clouds. -The road that I walked was a slowly descending -tableland.</p> - -<p>I passed through the little village of Karasbi, and -then through the more substantial settlements of -Jarasai and Nikolaevski. These are prolonged and -attenuated villages. The oldest houses are the biggest -and the deepest in trees, they have plenty of out-houses -and farm buildings; but the newest are bare -and wretched, with poplar shoots in front of them -but three feet high. There are some deserted hovels—even -a fine house was perhaps a hovel to begin -with, a temporary mud hut put up to give shelter -whilst the first work was done on the fields. I saw -many houses half built, showing their framework of -yet green willow and poplar twigs. I saw whole -families and villages at work on new settlements, and -also families living in tents. On the foundations of -the new dwellings or attached to the rude framework -were little crosses, only to be taken down -when there would be a place in the house for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> -ikons brought from their old homes in Russia. Some -colonists, on being asked when they had arrived, -replied, “Last week,” others said, “During these -days”; the dust on their wagons was new. Everyone -had a sort of Swiss Family Robinson air, as of -exploring an island, making natural discoveries, and -bringing things from a wreck. Some groups, however, -were already busy sowing their new fields, and -I understood that that was the first thing to do; that -was the work, and the building the new cottages -was the play. They had nothing to fear from sleeping -in the open every night of summer and early -autumn—a lesson to these Russians, who in their -home cottages or in railway carriages are afraid of -fresh air as if it brought pestilence.</p> - -<p>I spent two wonderful nights under the stars on -the road to Iliisk, the first in a sort of natural cradle -in a copse, the second in a hollow which I made for -my body in the bare sand of the desert. I passed -out of the new land on to the waste of the Ili valley; -the road was visible twenty or thirty miles ahead, -and on it in front of me are telegraph poles unlimited, -at first with spaces between, but in the distance -thick, like black matches stuck close together in the -sand. I walked a long way in the evenings, and I -remember, as the sun set, an enormous and foolish -bustard that was under the impression I was chasing -it. It would fly the space of five telegraph poles, I’d -walk the space of three; then it would fly three, -I’d catch up; and it would fly on ahead along the -track as if it dared not desert the poles. Finally,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> -however, just at the last rays of sunset, it flew crossways -over the desert and disappeared.</p> - -<p>I was rather nervous at this time about the <i>karakurt</i>, -the black spider that sheep eat with pleasure, -but whose bite is mortal to men; and each night -when I made my fresh-air couch I took pains to keep -out of the way of flies, beetles, spiders, and snakes. -I never was troubled by the <i>karakurt</i>, but I had a -lively time with beetles and running flies, to say -nothing of snakes, whose sudden darts and writhings -gave me momentary horrors many times. The valley -of the Ili is a wild place, with tigers and panthers; a -splendid district for study and sport, I should say. -However, no beasts came and snuffed my face in -the night.</p> - -<p>Each night on the road I learned to expect the -moon later and later. It always seems unpunctual, -always late, but not worried, and having that -irreproachable beauty that excuses all faults. She -came up late over the Ili desert in a wonderful -orange light, and then, emerging into perfect -brilliance, paled the myriad stars, set them back in -the sky,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Divesting herself of her golden shift and so</div> -<div class="verse">Emerging white and exquisite.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>I lay looking eastward on the sand, and on my -right, in the vague night shadow, lay the tremendous -pyramids of the Ala Tau mountains, the great cliff -triangles south of Verney, first vision of the mighty -Thian Shan. The clouds had lifted off them during<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> -the night, and in the morning I saw them in their -true perspective, vague, smoke-like, shadow-based -and grey-white, sun-bathed, many-pointed rocky and -precipitous summits stretching a hundred miles and -more from east to west.</p> - -<p>It was ten miles in to breakfast at Iliisk. The -water in the little lakes being salt, and my water-bottles -empty, I could not make tea. The lakes -and ponds remind you that you are between Issik-Kul -and Balkhash. It is, however, desert country -till you come to the thickets of the river, and there -the cuckoo is calling, there are bees in the air, and -it is glorious, fresh, abundant summer. The bases -of the mountains are all deep blue as the sky, but -utterly soft and delicious to the gaze, and the colour -faints into the whiteness of the hundred-mile-long -line of snow.</p> - -<p>Iliisk is marked large on the map for convenience -sake. One must mark it large to indicate a town on -the River Ili, but though there is a prospect of its -becoming an important trade centre, it is as yet -insignificant, no more than a village, a church, a -post-station, a market-place, and the dwelling-houses -of two thousand people. I noticed new colonists -here, using their horses to tramp great slops of mud -to the proper consistency of mud dough for making -the walls of new cottages. So Iliisk is increasing in -size, its population is growing. Most of the houses -here were mud huts of the swinging kind, built to -withstand earthquakes, and their roofs were very light -and beautiful, being of jungle reeds of a golden<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> -colour, each stem twelve feet long and ending in a -broom of soft plumage. The River Ili, from which -these reeds are cut, is a grateful sheet of silver, the -breadth of the Thames at Westminster, has pink -cliffs, is spanned by a wooden bridge, and has little -tree-grown islets. Among the reeds on the banks -lurk the tiger and panther and many snakes. Little -steamers go to and fro out of China and into China, -doing trade in wool, but held up every now and -then by the Chinese for extra bribes. In the village -wagons and camels are being loaded with raw wool—indicating -the future significance of the little town -as a trade centre. The population is predominantly -Russian, though there are Tartars, Kirghiz, and -Chinese Mohammedans. Near the market-place is a -Tartar mosque with a green crescent on the top -of it.</p> - -<p>My road lay eastward toward Kopal, but before -taking it I had my breakfast at Iliisk—sour milk and -stale bread—at a cottage, with Christ’s blessing, and -how good!</p> - -<p>The morning was very hot when I set out again, -and I took off my jacket and put it in my knapsack, -carrying the enlarged and weighty bundle on thinly -covered shoulders. The land was sandy and desolate, -being too high above the level of the River Ili to -allow of simple irrigation. If it is to be opened up -for colonisation, the river must be tapped much -higher up, in Chinese territory, but this the Chinese -will not as yet allow. I met no colonists on my road -out from Iliisk, not even any Kirghiz. Summer had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> -scorched away whatever grass the desert had yielded, -and the nomads had retired for the season and -gone to fresher pastures higher in the hills. How -frugally it is necessary to lunch in these parts may -be guessed. It is no place to tramp for anyone who -must have dainties and must have change. On the -whole I do not recommend Central Asia for long -walking tours. For one thing, there is very little -opportunity of getting anything washed, including -oneself; no early morning dip, no freshness. It is -not as in the Caucasus:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">The wild joy of living, the leaping from rock up to rock,</div> -<div class="verse">The strong rending of boughs from the fir tree, the cool, silver shock</div> -<div class="verse">Of the plunge in the pool’s living water.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>At night I was fain to discard my sleeping-sack, -those two sheets sewn together on three sides; but -the beetles and spiders and mosquitoes made that -impossible. On the other hand, the whiteness of the -sack, when the moon shone full on me, always made -it possible that some long-sighted Kirghiz might -bring his tribe along to find out what I was.</p> - -<p>After a night in the desert above Iliisk I came -to a place which was not a place and was called -Chingildinsky, perhaps because of the sound of the -bells on horses galloping through, for scarce anyone -ever stops there, but I suppose really after Chingiz -Khan. However, at the Zemsky post-station, to -which I had repaired to have tea, I made an interesting -acquaintance, a M. Liamin, a Government<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> -engineer, architect, and inspector of bridges. He -was travelling on a long round through Seven Rivers -and Western China via Chugachak—a military-looking -gentleman in the uniform of a colonel, but much -more sociable than a Russian officer is permitted -to be. He was riding in his own <i>tarantass</i>, with his -own petted horses, Vaska and Margarita. He asked -me if I would care to accompany him, and we -travelled a whole day together, all day and all night. -Whenever we came in sight of any game the Kirghiz -coachman took his master’s gun and had a shot at it. -In this way we brought down two pheasants and a -woodcock, to the delight of the Kirghiz and the not -unmingled pleasure of his master, who could not -bear to think of animals in pain. Liamin was -inspecting Government buildings, chiefly bridges, and -of these chiefly bridges long since washed away. He -had to report annually to the governor of Semi-retchie.</p> - -<p>“There are two hundred bridges needing repair -or rebuilding. I make my report, and the governor -sets aside two hundred roubles. A rouble apiece,” -he explained, smiling. “But what is a rouble!”</p> - -<p>We passed through remarkably empty country, -but it was on this second day out of Iliisk that I met -for the first time the colonists coming southwards -from Siberia. More than half my journey was done; -I was nearer Omsk than Tashkent.</p> - -<p>In Liamin’s <i>tarantass</i> were all manner of boxes -and padlocked safes, map rolls, instruments, pillows, -quilts, weapons. There was a soft depth where one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> -sat and lolled on one’s back whilst one’s knees in -front were preposterously high. It was a jolly way -to travel, and we were both sick of solitude and glad -to hear the sound of our own voices. Liamin was -charming. We talked on all manner of themes. His -favourite authors were Jack London, Kipling, and -Dickens. Wells depressed his soul, because he was -so pessimistic. It seemed to him very terrible that -it was necessary to kill so many people before Man -would make up his mind to live aright. The World -Republic was not worth the price paid. He had -read “The World Set Free” in a Russian translation, -and he could not bring himself to believe that -there would ever be such slaughter as a world-war -meant. Mankind was not so stupid.</p> - -<p>Though he was a high-placed official, Liamin was -all against the colonisation of Central Asia, which -he called a fashionable idea, and full of sympathy -for the wandering Kirghiz, who were being excluded -from all the good pasture lands and harried across -the frontier into China. At one village where we -stopped we met a land surveyor and an old, grizzled, -retired colonel who both held the opposite view, and -they belaboured Liamin as we sat round the -samovar.</p> - -<p>“The Kirghiz are animals, nothing more. The -Russians are men. The Kirghiz are going to China. -God be with them! Let them go! Are they not -pagans? We should be well rid of them! Just -think of their cruelty; they put a ring through a -bull’s nose and tie him by that to a horse, and by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> -his tail to a camel! If they want to stay with us, -let them remain in one spot, become civilised, and -obtain proper passports; then their land will be -secured to them. But if they <i>must</i> wander about -like wild animals, here to-day and the other side of -the mountain to-morrow, then they must pay for -their liberty and wildness.”</p> - -<p>A grievous question, this, in Russian Central -Asia. Liamin could not make his way in his argument -against the colonel. The future of the Kirghiz -tribes is problematical, but I should say that they -were certain to go over the frontier into China in -ever greater numbers as Central Asia becomes civilised -by the Russians. What they will do when Mongolia -and China become civilised I do not know. But that -is looking a long way ahead.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_168.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">VISITORS AT A KIRGHIZ WEDDING</p> - -<p>At a place called Karachok we saw somewhat of -the festivity of a Kirghiz wedding. There was a -great crowd of men—the guests from the country -round about—and they all stood around the tent of -the bridegroom, while the womenfolk, apparently all -collected together, sat within and improvised songs. -The felt was removed from the side of the tent and -the cane framework was exposed, so the girls and -women within, all in white and with white turbans -on their heads, looked as if they were in a cage. -Kirghiz women are not veiled. They were all sitting -on the floor—that is, on carpets on the ground of -the tent. They sang as the Northern Russians sing -in the provinces of Vologda and Perm and Archangel, -in wild bursts and inharmonious keening. The men<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> -joined occasionally in the songs, and occasionally -burst into laughter, for the words were full of -funny things invented by the girls. That seemed -to be the sum of the entertainment. A sheep had -been roasted whole. A race had been run for the -prize of a dead goat—the national <i>baiga</i> race. -About midnight the singing ended, and the guests -prepared to take their wives away and go home; the -camels and bulls and horses were led forth, also the -wives. And then broke out a quarrel. One of -the guests had stolen a silver button off the coat of -another man’s wife, had cut it off with the scissors -as a keepsake, and she had countenanced the theft. -The wife, being the personal property of the husband, -had, of course, no power to give the button on her own -account. There was likely to be an outrageous fight -with cudgels, but Liamin appeared in the midst of -the dispute and calmed it all away in the name of law -and order. The guests mounted and rode away, out -into the darkness, by various tracks, on horses, -camels, bulls, their wives with them. It was -astonishing to see the effect of the appearance of -an officer among the angry crowd. They forgot their -differences at one look and the recognition of a -uniform. Even the dogs ceased barking when they -saw the sword of my friend and they smelt his khaki -trousers.</p> - -<p>Our horses had been taken out of the shafts and -given three hours’ rest and plenty of oats to eat. -We walked out over the wild and empty moor -together and chatted, came back and had tea, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> -then got into the <i>tarantass</i> once more. It was the -depth of night before we moved on, and although -we had clambered in before the horses were brought -back, our object being to go to sleep before we -started, we went on comparing impressions. I told -him my life, he told me his, told me about his wife -and children and his home at Przhevalsk, of his -horses and his experiments in breeding, of the horse -races at Verney, of the joy of the Kirghiz in racing, -the one Russian pursuit and interest in which they -fully share, the common ground of the two peoples -in the colony. Liamin spent a great deal of the -year in China and on the frontier, and had evidently -much experience of the Chinese. He considered -there would be a quarrel with China sooner or later -through the progress of Russia in Central Asia. -But the Chinese would be beaten. He did not fear -their millions. They were not equipped as the -Japanese were.</p> - -<p>“What do you think of the Yellow Peril; is it -getting nearer?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“There is no danger of it whatever,” said he. -“Europe is far too warlike to be in any danger from -the Chinese.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think Europe is more or less warlike -than it was; do you think it is getting less warlike?” -I asked. This was, of course, before the Great War.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it’s getting less warlike, I suppose,” said -Liamin. “But it will be a long while before we are -too effeminate to withstand the Mongols. But woe -for us if there should ever come such a time! They<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span> -are a devilish people. At first glance they seem -artless and childlike, but you can never be sure what -they are up to; they are secret and mysterious. It -is an axiom with me that all Asiatics lie; but the -Chinese particularly. You remember when San -Francisco was destroyed by earthquake the Americans -discovered a hitherto unknown and underground city -run by the Chinese, and in it many white people -who had long since disappeared nobody knew -whither, people who had been advertised for and -sought for by relatives and police and what not. -Wherever the Chinese form colonies they turn to -devilry of one kind or another. I remember the -ghastly things the Chinese did in the Boxer insurrection, -the originality of the tortures they invented. -Fancy this as a torture! A Russian whom I knew -fell into their hands, and their way of killing him -was to fasten a corpse of a man to him, and day and -night he lived with this corpse till the worms ate -into him and he died of madness! The Russian -villagers don’t mind doing business with the Chinamen, -but always remember they are pagans, and -many think they have direct dealings with devils. I -was at Blagoveshtchensk when the Chinese opened -fire on us, and our Siberian colonists drove all the -Chinese out of the city, thirty thousand of them, and -they were drowned in the river like rats.”</p> - -<p>By this time the horses had been put in, Karachok -left, and we were jogging gently through the night. -The Kirghiz who drove slept; the horses also almost -slept as they walked. Liamin at last, tired or made<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> -drowsy by the movement, nodded as he talked, and -fell asleep in the middle of a sentence. The road -climbed over high mountains, the moon bathed the -track and the wild and empty landscape with light. -How far on either hand stretched the uninhabited -world! It was like posting across a new and habitable -planet where men might have been expected to -be living, but where all had died, or none but ourselves -had ever come. The world itself poked up, -its great back was shyly lifted as if it were some -gigantic, timid animal that had never been disturbed. -It was a wonderful night; quiet, gentle, and unusual. -Liamin, at my side, slept silently and intensely. -The Kirghiz looked as if cut out of wood. I lay -back and looked out, my fingers locked behind my -head. So the small hours passed. Night seemed to -move over us and be left behind, and I saw ahead -the creeping dawn, the morrow, the real morrow, -golden and lucent on the eastern horizon. The sun -rose and flooded into our sleepy and sleeping eyes as -we clattered over the brow of a hill. We came -to the Tartar hamlet of Kuan-Kuza, and it was -morning.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XI<br /> - - -<small>ON THE CHINESE FRONTIER</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap2">AT Kuan-Kuza I parted company with Liamin. -I went off for a walk on the hills; he went -on with Vaska and Margarita. I had now reached -mountainous country and a region of fresh air. -There were green valleys and wild flowers, streams -beside which I could make a pleasant repast, and I -had a most enjoyable walk to Kopal. There were -patches of snow on the heights, and I clambered up -and fingered it just for the joy of realising the contrast -to the heat of the deserts I had come through. -The road went high over a green tableland to Altin-Emel, -where I came to cross-roads for China. An -enormous caravan of camels blocked all the ways -here; two or three hundred ranks of camels, roped -three in a rank, roped crossways and lengthways, -bearing huge panniers of wool, but no passengers. -Chinamen and little Chinese boys were in charge of -them, and ran among the camels’ legs cursing and -calling as the strings of bewildered or purposely -contrary animals threatened to get into knots and -inextricable tangles. Sarts were doing a good business -here, selling hot lunch from wooden cauldrons -with three compartments, in which were meat-pies,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> -soups, potatoes, respectively, all cooking at the same -time over charcoal. Altin-Emel is an interesting -point on the road. Here may be seen upon occasion -British sportsmen with Hindu servants, and two or -three britchkas full of trophies and large antlers done -up in linen and cotton-wool and fixed with rope. -Before the war four or five British officers passed -through Altin-Emel every year on their way to -Chinese Tartary or India, or from those places, -coming home. Some were out here at the time the -war broke out, and were a long time in finding out -exactly what had happened in Europe.</p> - -<p>It is very beautiful country, with snow peaks in -view in the distance and at your feet white iris, -forget-me-not, and brilliant Scotch roses, those yellow -blossoms thick on thorny stems. Then there are -fields of mullein as thick as stalks of corn after the -peasants’ sickles have cut the harvest. There are -good-looking and frequent Russian villages and Cossack -stations, Kugalinskaya, Polovinka, Kruglenkoe. -I passed through a village started only in 1911, very -clean, well kept, and promising. Kugalinskaya -Stanitsa was an old settlement, the land probably -given to the Cossacks when the conquest took place. -This place was very drunken the time I stayed there, -though now, since the war and prohibition, that -characteristic must have vanished. The Cossacks -apparently found life rather boring; they had a -marionette show in the bazaar, lotto banks and -roulette tables, where copecks were risked and -bottles of vodka staked. The public-house was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> -full of singing drunkards. I can imagine -how cheered up the people were when war was -declared.</p> - -<p>After a wonderful night on a little green tableland -covered with mulleins, where when I spread my -bed I must crush mulleins, I went on to Tsaritsinskaya. -There, on the pass over the mountains and -the Kok-sa River, I got my first soaking on this -vagabondage, soaked to the skin by mist and drizzle; -but I did not seem much the worse for it, and dried -naturally in the sun on the morrow, visibly steaming. -It was quite like a Caucasus road now, steep, -wild, magnificent with gorges and passes, foaming -rivulets, villages threaded with the life of running -water, the paradise of ducks and their broods. The -outward roads were marked by heaps of mud and -stones, and on these I went to Jangiz-Agatch, with -its fine trees, and Karabulak and Gavrilovka; finally, -a day over great sweeps of country illumined by -gorse in bloom and yellow roses, over leagues of -wolf-hunted moorland to Kopal.</p> - -<p>Kopal is 825 miles from a railway station, and -one of the last places on earth; a town without an -inn, without a barber; a place you could run round -in a quarter of an hour, and yet having jurisdiction -over an immense tract of territory along the Russian -frontier of China. It was late in the evening when -I arrived there, and when I went to the post-house -I found it crowded with Chinamen; Chinamen on -the two beds, on the floor, in the passage; chop-sticks -on the table. They were all travellers on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> -road to Pekin, making their way slowly northward -to the Trans-Siberian Railway.</p> - -<p>At once one of those who occupied a bed got -up, apologised, and vacated his sleeping-place, offering -it to me. Despite my refusal, he took off his -blanket and quilt and spread them on the floor -instead. His humility was touching—especially in -contrast to my own instinctive loathing of a bed on -which Chinese had lain. Fortunately, I did not feel -tired.</p> - -<p>I do not carry a watch on my travels, so the idea -of what time it is gradually fades from the mind. -The hour is not a matter of anxiety; dawn, noon, -sunset, night are the quarters of the clock, and they -suffice. But in the post-station at Kopal, whilst the -Chinese were officiously effacing themselves, I found -myself idly looking at the big clock hanging in a -shadowy corner and trying to make out the hour. -The face of the clock was a tiger looking at a snake. -When it was twelve o’clock the hands were between -the tiger’s eyes. At a quarter-past seven the hands -held the serpent. The clock was very dusty, but -imagine the start I got when suddenly I saw that the -eyes in the tiger face were rolling at me. As I stared -the pupils slowly moved across the whites of the eyes. -The pendulum made the eyes roll.</p> - -<p>It was only nine o’clock, and I had noticed as I -came into the town a considerable flare of lights, a -large white tent, and a notice of a Chinese circus. -A Chinese circus was something not to be missed in -this empty and outlandish country, so I put down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> -my pack in the post-house and went out to see the -performance. It was something truly original, a -piquant diversion after a long day’s journeying in the -wastes and wilds of the mountains of Alai Tau.</p> - -<p>It was a circular tent, small enough for a circus -tent, having only three rows of seats around the -arena. The price to sit down was thirty copecks, to -stand behind, fifteen copecks. Soldiers came in free, -and there were some thirty of them, with their dull -peasant faces and dusty khaki uniforms. Near the -entrance there was a box covered with red bunting, -free for the chief of police and his friends. The -chief of police has a free box at nearly every local -entertainment in Russia—he can permit or forbid -the show. There were three musicians—Russian -peasants, paid a shilling a night, I understand—and -they gave value for money unceasingly on a -concertina, a violin, and a balalaika. The public on -the bare, rickety forms ringed round the as yet -empty stage numbered from 100 to 120, and were -a mixture of Russians, Tartars, and Kirghiz. All -the Russian officers and officials of the town seemed -to be there, and were accompanied by their smartly -dressed wives and daughters. The Tartar merchants -looked grim in their black skull-caps, their women -queenly, with little crowns on the tops of their heads -and long veils falling over their hair and their backs. -There was a row of these crowned Tartar women -together; a row also of Kirghiz women, in high, -white turbans wrapped about their broad brows. -There were colonists and their <i>babas</i>—open-faced,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> -simple-souled peasant women who came to be petrified -by the seeming devilry of the heathen Chinee. -To them the fact that the Chinese are heathen—not -Christian—is no joke, but a fierce reality. They look -upon the Chinese as being comparatively near akin -to devils.</p> - -<p>Naphtha lamps swung uneasily from the high -beams of the tent, and flung unequal volumes of -light from dangerous-looking ragged flames. The -sandy arena and all the eager people round were -brightly shown in the plenitude of light.</p> - -<p>The first item on the programme was not particularly -striking. A bell was rung, and a little -Chinaman in black came out and twirled and juggled -a tea-tray on a chopstick. Then followed a Russian -clown with painted face, old hat, and yellow -wig, who proceeded to be very serious and show the -public various tricks. He had three Chinese servants, -and the fun consisted in their stealing his things and -spoiling his efforts. Finally, he took a big stick -and chased them round and round the arena—to -the great delight of all the children present.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_178.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">CHINESE PRAYING-HOUSE AT DJARKENT</p> - -<p>The clown’s turn ended, there came forward a -very handsome Chinee in black satin knee-breeches, -tight stockings, scarlet jersey, and English collar and -tie. He was rather tall, had a big, womanish face, -gleaming teeth, and long, black hair. He walked -jauntily in little slippers, and carried a handful of -ten knives. Another Chinaman came out with an -old tree trunk, which he held up on end. A child -came and stood up against the trunk. The handsome<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> -Chinee then stood and flung the knives as if to pin -the boy to the wood, and he planted them between -the child’s arm and his body, over his arm, between -his legs and beside his legs, on each side of his neck, -on each side of his ears, and over his head—and all -the time as he flung them he smiled. He repeated -his feat, placing all the knives round about the boy’s -head, never raising the skin.</p> - -<p>Number four was the owner of the troupe, an -old fellow in a light blue, voluminous smock and -long pigtail. He conjured a platter of biscuits and -cakes, glasses, a teapot, a steaming samovar, all out -of nothingness, inviting the public to come and -have tea with him, and talking an amusing broken -Russian:</p> - -<p>“You laugh, you think this fine trick, but I -show you ’nother mighty juggle; took me ten years -to learn this juggle ...” and so on.</p> - -<p>As the applause dies down the bell rings again, -and out comes the “Chinaman with the cast-iron -head.” All the time “the orchestra” plays Russian -dances, plays them very noisily. He with the iron -head lies down on the sand and puts two bricks on -his temple. At a distance of ten yards another -Chinaman holds a brick and prepares to aim it at the -head of his prostrate fellow-player. He aims it, but -the iron-headed one pretends to lose his nerve and -jumps up with a terrible scream, pointing to the -music. The music must be calmed down. The -audience holds its breath as the trick is repeated to -gentle lullaby airs. This time the prostrate man<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> -receives the bricks one by one as they are aimed—square -on the bricks lying on his temple—and, of -course, is none the worse, though he takes the risk -of a bad shot.</p> - -<p>The old conjurer came out again and danced to -the Russian Kamarinsky air, holding a bamboo as if -it were his partner, and doing all manner of clever -and amusing turns. The young man who juggled -the tea-tray on the chopstick reappeared, and did a -difficult balancing trick, raising himself on a trestle -which rested on little spheres on a table. Then came -two most original items, the dancing of an old man -in a five-yard linen whip, and the rolling round the -body of a rusty eight-foot iron sceptre.</p> - -<p>The man who danced made the long whip of linen -crack and roll out over the arena in splendid circles -and waves, and he was ever in the midst of it. The -juggler of the sceptre contrived to roll the strange-looking -implement all over his body, about his back -and his shoulders and his stomach, and never let it -touch the ground and never touched it with his hand—and -at the same time to dance to the music. This -was a most attractive feat, and was as pleasant -to watch as anything I had ever seen in a large -city.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_180.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">LEPERS IN A FRONTIER TOWN</p> - -<p>There was an interval and a great buzz of talking -and surmise. After the interval came wrestling -matches and trick-riding on bicycles. A clever little -Mongol had no difficulty in disposing of those who -offered to wrestle with him, and a Russian cyclist -who rode on his handle-bars received great applause<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> -from the people of Kopal, most of whom had not -seen a bicycle before.</p> - -<p>So the entertainment ended, and everyone was -well pleased. The juggling was a great mystification -to the simple Russians, and I heard many amusing -comments from those behind me and beside. The conjuring -forth of the steaming samovar was especially -troubling to the minds of the peasant women, and I -heard one say to another:</p> - -<p>“God knows where he got it from.”</p> - -<p>And the other replied seriously:</p> - -<p>“What has God got to do with it? It’s the -power o’ Satan.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I returned to my post-house in a pleasant frame -of mind; it was one by the clock with the tiger -face, and I took out my sheets and blanket and -slept in a wagon in the yard. All the Chinese were -snoring.</p> - -<p>I said Kopal had no barber, but next day I -found a Sart who shaved. I entered a dwelling in -the bazaar, half home, half cave. Picture me sitting -on a rag of carpet on the floor of a mud hut, a red -handkerchief tied tightly round my neck. A bald-headed -old Mohammedan holds in his hand a broken -mug containing vinegar. He dips his thumb in the -vinegar, and then massages my cheeks and chin and -neck. It was queer to feel his broad thumb pounding -against my skin and chinbone. He made no -lather, but he thought that he softened my skin -with his hard thumb and the vinegar. Then he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> -brandished a broken razor over my head, and fairly -tore the hair off my face with it. He gave me no -water with which to rinse, but as he finished his job -he put into my hand three inches of broken mirror -so that I could survey my new countenance and judge -whether he had done well.</p> - -<p>The Chinese at the post-house behaved like -Christians, or, rather, as Christians should, with -great humbleness and altruism, giving up the samovar -to Russian visitors, fetching water to fill the -washing-bowls, cleaning and drying the dishes after -their breakfast, and sweeping the post-room floor -before they went away. The postmaster’s wife said -there was a constant flow of Chinese, and they -always behaved in that way.</p> - -<p>Kopal, four thousand feet above the sea level, is -in the midst of fine scenery, and the frontier all the -way to Chugachak and the shoulder of the Altai -mountains is wild and desolate. The boundary is -marked by numbered poles, but there are few soldiers -or excisemen to question you if you cross either -way. There is a certain amount of smuggling done, -one of the articles brought through from China being -Havana cigars, of which the local bureaucracy is -said to be fond.</p> - -<p>Sportsmen on the road to Kuldja sometimes put -up at Kopal. They are given facilities to make -such journeys and receive honourable treatment, their -names being forwarded to all the postmasters on -the way and instructions being posted in all the -post-houses along the road. It was interesting to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span> -read on the post-house walls notices of the following -type:</p> - -<p>“There will pass this way” (then would come -an English name). “You are to give him horses -and all of which he may stand in need. In the case -of his being hindered for any reason, you will be -severely punished.”</p> - -<p>These English often possess their own <i>tarantasses</i>, -and sleep in them at night. In that way they avoid -the unpleasantness of sleeping in a room full of -Chinese. On the whole it is better to sleep out of -doors than in.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XII<br /> - - -<small>“MIDSUMMER NIGHT AMONG THE TENT-DWELLERS”</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">I WALKED forth from Kopal on a broad moorland -road, and after several hours’ upland tramping -came to the Cossack village of Arazan—a typical -willow-shaded settlement with irrigation streamlets -rushing along the channels between the roadway and -the cottages. Here, at the house of a herculean old -soldier, I was offered for dinner a dish of hot milk, -ten lightly boiled eggs, and a hunch of black bread—the -typical meal of the day for a wanderer in these -parts. In the pleasant coolness of five o’clock sunshine -I passed out at the other end of the only -street of the village and climbed up into the hills -beyond. I turned a neck in the mountains, descended -by little green gorges into strange valleys, and -climbed out of them to high ridges and cold, windswept -heights. All about me grew desolate and -rugged. It was touching to look back at the little -collection of homes that I had left—the compact, -little island of trees in the ocean of moorland below -me and behind me—and look forward to the pass -where all seemed dreadful and forbidding in front.</p> - -<p>In such a view I spread my bed and slept. The -hill-side was covered with mullein stalks, and as it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> -grew dark these stalks seemed to grow taller and -taller and blacker all about me till they looked like -a great wood of telegraph poles. The vast dark -masses of the mountains dreamed, and in the lightly -clouded heaven stars peeped across the world, rain-laden -winds blew over me, and I had as lief it rained -as not, so dry was everything after weeks of summer -heat. But no rain came, though the winds were -cool and the night was sweet.</p> - -<p>Next morning, with great difficulty, I collected -roots and withered grass enough to boil a pot and -make my morning tea, and I sat and ate my breakfast -in the presence of Mrs. Stonechat and her four -fluffy little youngsters, gurgling and chirping and -not afraid to sit on the same bank with me, while -their mother harangued them on “How to fly.” -While sitting there the large raindrops came at last, -and they made deep black spots in the dust of the -road, the lightning flashed across my knife, the -thunder rolled boulders about the mountains, and I -sped to a cave to avoid a drenching shower.</p> - -<p>I was in a somewhat celebrated district. The -Pass and the Gorge of Abakum are among the -sights of Seven Rivers Land, and are visited by -Russian holiday-makers and picnickers. All the -rocks are scrawled with the names of bygone visitors, -and by that fact alone you know the place has a -name and is accounted beautiful. When the rain -ceased, and I ventured out of the cave again, I saw -a Russian at work writing his name. He had a stick -dipped in the compound with which the axles of his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> -cart-wheels were oiled, and the wheels of the cart were -nearly off for him to get it. For the first time I -saw how these intensely black scrawls of names and -signatures are written on the rocks. We are content -to scratch our names with a bit of glass or a nail, or -to chalk them, or cut them with a pocket-knife; but -the Russians are fond of bold, black signatures two -or three feet long, and they make them with this -pitch and oil from the wheels of their carts.</p> - -<p>It was a pleasant noontide on the narrow road, -between crumbling indigo rocks and heaped debris. -The stony slopes were rain-washed, the air fresh, and -all along the way these dwarf rose bushes which I -had seen on the road to Kopal, thorny, but covered -with scores of bright yellow blossoms on little red -stems. The jagged highway climbed again high up—to -the sky, and gave me a vision of a new land, -the vast dead plain of Northern Semi-retchie and of -Southern Siberia. Northward to the horizon lay -deserts, salt marshes, and vast lakes with uninhabited -shores, withered moors and wilted lowlands. I saw -at a glance how uninteresting my road was to -become if I persevered straight ahead towards Semipalatinsk, -and I resolved to keep to the mountains in -which I found myself, and follow them eastward and -north-eastward to the remoter town of Lepsinsk.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_186.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">A PATRIARCHAL KIRGHIZ FAMILY</p> - -<p>From that height, which was evidently the -famous pass, I descended into the pretty gorge of -Abakum. The road was steep and narrow, the cliffs -on each side sheer. A little foaming stream runs -down from the cliffs, over rubbish heaps of rocks,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> -and accompanies the highway in an artificially devised -channel. A strange gateway has been formed in a -thin partition of rock, and through this runs the -stream below and the telegraph wire overhead; there -is a footway, but carts are obliged to make a detour. -At this gateway and on the rocks I saw a further -intimation of commercial Siberia. Commercial travellers -had scrawled:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>BUY PROVODNIK GALOSHES AT OMSK</p> -</div> - -<p>and</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>BUY INDIAN TEA AND GET RICH</p> -</div> - -<p>which was almost as if I had seen in the midst of -the wilderness something like “Owbridge’s Lung -Tonic: 4,000 miles to London.” Still, these advertisements -of galoshes and tea were scrawled, not -printed, and were done voluntarily by enthusiastic -travellers who probably received no fee for doing such -a thing. In England you cut your Rosalind’s name -on the tree; in Russia your own name; in America -you write what O. Henry called “your especial line -of graft,” and all the New World is scrawled with -hand-written advertisements of trade. So in the -far-off gorge of Abakum I saw a suggestion of the -America of the future-great commercial Siberia, to -which perchance, some day, Americans will emigrate -for work as the Russians emigrate to America -to-day.</p> - -<p>I felt this pass and gateway to be the entrance -to Siberia, though, politically, the frontier is about -three hundred miles distant. After six or seven<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> -turns the road issued forth upon a level strand of -green and grey—the Siberian southern steppe. Lepsinsk, -my next point, was the first town with a -name ending in “sk,” and there are scarcely more -than four towns in Siberia not ending so. None of -the emigrant carts that I now met were coming -from the south, but all from Siberia, and many of -the emigrants were Siberians discontented with their -northern holdings. They seemed poor people, and -the caravans were rather woebegone. There is a -good deal of land offered to the emigrants in the -neighbourhood of Lepsinsk, most of it contiguous to -the Chinese boundary; but, though it is green and -fertile, it is as hard a land to settle as the plains in -the south. The Siberians missed the pine forests, -the shelter and the fuel of them, and it was a sight -to see the straggling procession of women behind the -dust-covered wagons—they had to spread themselves -about the moor and the roadway, and search for -roots and splinters of wood with which to make a fire -at the end of their day’s journey. All the women -held their aprons or petticoats up, and gathered the -fuel into their laps. It took them nearly all day to -get enough for the fires to boil the nightly soup.</p> - -<p>For me, however, it was a green and joyous road -from Abakum eastward to Sarkand, keeping to the -mountain slopes and not faring forth upon the -scorched plain that lies away northward. I did not -repent that the cross-roads tempted me to go eastward, -hugging the mountains. Long green grass -waved on each side of the road, and in the grass blue<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> -larkspur and immense yellow hollyhocks. I was in -the land where the Kirghiz has his summer pasture, -and often I came upon whole clans that had just -pitched their tents. It was a many-coloured picture -of camels, bulls and horses, of sheep swarming among -children, of kittens playing with one another’s tails, -of tents whose framework only was as yet put up, -of heaps of felt and carpet on the grass, of old -wooden chests and antediluvian pots and jugs of -sagging leather lying promiscuously together, while -the new home was not made. On this road the -Chinese jugglers overtook me and camped very near -where I slept one night. I was amused to see the -old conjurer who had juggled the steaming samovar -out of thin air hunting mournfully for bits of wood -and roots to make that same samovar boil in real -earnest.</p> - -<p>Next day I came to the village of Jaiman Terekti -and its remarkable scenery. The River Baskau flows -between extraordinary banks, great bare rocks, all -squared and architectural in appearance, giving the -impression of immense ancient fortresses over the -stream. These squared and shelved rocks are characteristic -of the country-side and the geological formations, -and they give much grandeur to what otherwise -were quiet corners. The gateway of Abakum itself -owes its impressiveness to this geological rune.</p> - -<p>At a village hereabout I fell in with four boys -going up into the mountains to study for the -summer. They were students from some large -engineering college, and, as part of their training,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> -they had been sent out to study irrigation works and -bridges in this colony. At every bridge we came to -on the road they stopped and gave it their consideration, -and made notes as to its structure and its -necessities, and at each village they considered the -control of the mountain streams, the canalisation of -the water, and the uses to which the natural supplies -of water could be put. They called themselves -<i>hydrotechnics</i>, and would eventually blossom, perhaps, -into irrigation engineers. Their trip was costing -them no more than one hundred roubles—say, ten -pounds each for the three months of summer. Their -headquarters was to be a village on a river about a -hundred miles north of Lepsinsk; there they would -pitch their tents and camp, cooking their meals, -arranging expeditions, and making good their study. -Altogether about three dozen young students would -turn up at their camping-ground, and make up the -equivalent of a summer class.</p> - -<p>The four young men had in their protection a -lady in cotton trousers, a tall young woman of -athletic appearance and good looks. She and her -two little children were on their way to the husband, -a Government engineer, who had charge of the -building of the new town of Lepsinsk—the nearest -railway point to Old Lepsinsk. She was a very -striking figure in her <i>sharivari</i>, and the natives -collected round her and stared in an absurd fashion. -She told me she had bought the print for 1 rouble -87 copecks, and made them herself just before starting -out; skirts were so inconvenient for travelling in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> -and collected the dirt so. But she drew thereby an -enormous amount of attention to herself, it must be -said. She was rather a crazy Kate. It tickled me -to think how her husband would pitch into her when -she arrived at her destination. But perhaps I was -mistaken, and he was so homesick that he would not -even laugh when she appeared. She was a regular -scapegrace, with light blue, torn, openwork stockings, -and button boots, one of which was fastened -with a safety-pin, the other with two shirt-buttons. -But she was very naïve and had bunches of smiles on -her lips—the sort to which much is forgiven. When -she tried to smack her children, they went for her -tooth and nail, and the little boy, aged two, continually -imitated someone, probably the father, and -addressed his mother thus:</p> - -<p>“<i>Akh tee somnoi ne zagovarivaisia</i>” (“Don’t -stand there talking to me.”)</p> - -<p>“<i>Bross!</i>” (“Stop it!”)</p> - -<p>“<i>Pliun!</i>” (“Spit!”)</p> - -<p>I was called upon to imitate cats and dogs and sheep -and pigeons and camels, and make-believe generally -to an unlimited extent.</p> - -<p>The lady told an amusing story of a banquet to -which the Kirghiz had invited her husband and herself. -It should be explained that the Russian for -the head of an animal is <i>golovo</i>, and for the head of -an expedition or band of workmen is <i>glavny</i>, the -adjective derived from <i>golovo</i>, a head. At this -banquet in the Kirghiz tent the engineer was put in -the highest seat, and was told that the dinner was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> -coming. Suddenly a Kirghiz appeared with a roast -sheep’s head, and carried it to the Russian, saying:</p> - -<p>“Please, eat!”</p> - -<p>“What’s this?” asked the engineer. “The head -for me; that won’t do at all. I don’t want the -sheep’s head; you must cut me something more -tasty.”</p> - -<p>“No, please,” said the Kirghiz. “You are the -head man, and you must eat the head.”</p> - -<p>“That will never do,” said the Russian. But -they besought him to honour their custom and permit -the rest to eat, for until he had started on the head -nobody else might begin.</p> - -<p>All the engineer’s workmen were Kirghiz, for -he was working in Kirghiz country, in a district as -yet untouched by Russian colonisation. The wife -and her babies turned off at a mountain track, and -were taken to her husband’s camping-ground by a -Kirghiz. We were loath to let the woman go, for -she had given much gaiety to the road.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Lepsinsk is what the Russians call a <i>medvezhy -ugolok</i> (a bear’s corner), a place where in winter -the wolves roam the main street as if they did not -distinguish it from their peculiar haunts. It is by -post-road 945 miles from Tashkent on the one hand, -and 1,040 miles from Omsk on the other—roughly, -1,000 miles from a railway station. It is high up on -the mountains on the Mongolian frontier, and lives -a life of its own, almost completely unaware of -what is happening in Russia and in Europe—a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> -window on to Mongolia, as a local wit has -called it.</p> - -<p>In the course of the next five years a railway is -to be run from Semipalatinsk to Verney, and as -Lepsinsk is the largest town on the way, it should -in justice pass through it. But Lepsinsk is high. -When the news of the projected railway came, the -burgesses made a petition to the authorities asking -to be informed where exactly the railway would be, -and they would remove Lepsinsk thither. Everyone -who had any business would transfer his stock. They -were informed, and in a year, or a year and a half, -Lepsinsk promised to remove itself fifty miles westward. -Building operations were in full swing on the -new site, land having been allowed by the Government -free; and the engineer whose wife we had met -was in charge. If the war does not preclude the -continuation of the railway construction, Old Lepsinsk -will be abandoned.</p> - -<p>I spent four days in the town in the company of -the young <i>hydrotechnics</i>. We were given rooms free -at the Zemsky guest-house, and I stayed three -nights there before resuming my journey toward the -Irtish. The students quickly found and made friends -with people in the town. We found a family that -came from the same country-side as one of the young -men, and spent the whole evening in a big farmhouse, -drinking tea, trying musical instruments, and -singing Russian choruses. Next day we went to the -colonists’ information office, made friends with the -young man in charge, and went and played <i>pyramid</i><span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> -with him in the town assembly rooms; several other -folk came in, young and old, and joined in the game -of billiards till we were a dozen or more. After -billiards we all sat down to a crude lunch of boiled -and undisguised beef, without vegetables, but with -jugs of creamy milk to drink. The conversation went -on cards, billiards, the coming Sunday-night dance. -Couldn’t an orchestra be made up to supplant the usual -gramophone to which the people danced on Sunday -evenings? Had the cinematograph films come, and -that had been so long expected? What would happen -if one showed a cinema film backward—wouldn’t -the story be often more funny?</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_194.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">SHEEP-SHEARING OUTSIDE THE TENT HOME</p> - -<p>Sunday morning we spent in the domain of -the colonists’ information bureau, and interviewed -peasants for the manager whilst he was still in bed. -What a litter there was everywhere—tea glasses, -cigarette boxes, picture post cards, electric lamps, old -letters, forms issued by the Government, maps—the -same in the bedroom as in the office. There was a -typewriter, and I amused myself trying to write -English sentences with the Russian type, there being -a fair number of letters in the Russian language -resembling our own. The people who came for -information had various pleas. One was ill, another -had quarrelled with her husband. An old man -pushed in front of him a rather downcast young -woman, and commenced his appeal to us in these -words: “I recommend this woman to your mercy. -The land which is hers is being stolen away from -her.” She had fallen out with her husband, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> -had fled to her father’s house. But meanwhile the -husband was trying to sell the land or raise money -on it—at least, so the father said. But we pointed -out to him that that was nonsense; the land was not -yet the unqualified property of the husband, and he -could not sell it; he could only give it back to the -Government, and so on and so on. On Sunday -evening we all went to the assembly rooms, and saw -Lepsinsk in its Sunday best, talked vociferously in -crowds, listened to a gramophone, watched peasant -girls and young men dance melancholy waltzes—there -was no Russian dancing, but the people were glad -to think themselves “European.” I made acquaintance -with the <i>ispravnik</i>, or whoever he was who ruled -Lepsinsk, and with the local rich men—a remote, -obtuse, provincial set, whose only interest was cards. -They were very keen on playing me at <i>preference</i>, -a complex Russian card game which I have -generally thought it worth while not to learn, and I -was amused to hear that they would teach me, and -what I lost would pay for my lesson. I talked a -little about England. They got their daily papers -three weeks after issue, as a rule, but they read -them as new when they came. Their chief idea of -our British activities was that the suffragettes were -assassinating, murdering, bombing, expropriating, and -they chuckled over the fact that our men were not -able to manage the women.</p> - -<p>Lepsinsk is an out-of-the-way place, and, as far -as the road is concerned, a blind alley among the -mountains. I was much exercised to know which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> -way I should go next, and I did not want to retrace -my steps to Altin-Emel. The map and my route -was another topic of conversation among the worthies -of Lepsinsk. Everyone gave me a different account -of the roads and the ferries. Eventually I decided -to cut across country and take the risk of marshes -or rushing water lying in my path—a rash decision, -as I might after a day or so be forced to walk back -to the town and try some other way; but it turned -out to be a perfectly happy decision. On this track -I saw more of the Cossacks and of the Kirghiz, two -races in striking contrast, and I spent Midsummer -Night—always a festival night—under very beautiful -and unusual circumstances.</p> - -<p>Lepsinsk is a Cossack settlement. All the young -men are horsemen, have to serve their term in war, -and are liable to military service without any exemption -or exception. All Cossack families and Cossack -villages are brought up on these terms. The children -are taught to get on to horseback and ride as we -teach our children to walk. They learn the songs -which the regiment sings as it comes up the main -street on horseback, bearing the black pikes in their -hands. The women, whose children and husbands -go to the war, are patient as the mother of Taress -Bulba. War is the normal condition of life, and -the mere manœuvres are taken so seriously that the -opposing parties frequently forget that it is only a -friendly test, and do one another serious injury. -“The Cossacks get so enraged, and they can’t -stop themselves when they are called upon to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> -charge the sham enemy,” said a Lepsinsk boy -to me.</p> - -<p>On the Monday morning I said good-bye to the -students, and, shouldering my knapsack, set off in a -north-westerly direction to find Sergiopol, forded the -Lepsa river, and climbed out of the green valley -where Lepsinsk lies as in a cup. The mountain-sides -were rankly verdant, and the purple labiate was thick -as in spring-time. It may be remarked that strawberries -were not expected to ripen in Lepsinsk for -three weeks, whereas six weeks ago in Tashkent they -had been a penny a pound.</p> - -<p>I passed over the fresh green hills and panted -at the gradient, plunged down through beautiful -meadows, slept a night in the Cossack station of -Cherkask, lying on some felt and being almost eaten -up by mosquitoes in what the soldier host called a -garden. In this village I saw a pitiful sight—almost -naked Kirghiz women treading wet mud and manure -into stuff for fuel blocks. They looked astonishingly -bestial and degraded. You could not feel that they -had any soul or stood in any way above the animals. -Yet as young women they had probably been attractive -and pretty in their day, and might even have -won the fancy of white men. There was a question -whether the wife in <i>Candida</i> who soiled her lovely -fingers putting kerosene into the lamps was really -degraded by dirt, but here was something nearer -reality.</p> - -<p>I slept on the sand beside Gregoriefsky, and next -day went deep into the desert, into a land of snakes,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span> -eagles, snipe, and lizards. On the Lepsa shore I -saw forests of the gigantic reeds with which the -houses and bridges are roofed. Here were leagues -of ten-feet rushes that waved boisterously in the -wind as in a cinema picture. I was warned here -against the boa-constrictor; but the worst I saw were -intent-eyed little snakes gliding away from me, scared -at the sound of the footfall. I got my noon-day meal -of koumis in a Kirghiz <i>yurt</i>, borrowed a horse with -which to get across the difficult fords, one of black, -reed-grown mud, the other of swift-flowing water. -All day I ploughed through ankle-deep sand, and but -for the fact that the sun was obscured by cloud, I -should have suffered much from heat. As it was, the -dust and sand-laden wind was very trying. Early in -the evening I resolved to stop for the day, and found -shelter in one of twenty tents all pitched beside one -another in a pleasant green pasture-land which lay -between two bends of the river—a veritable oasis. -Even here, as I sat in the tent, I listened to the -constant sifting of the sand on the felt sides and -roof.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_198.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">IN SUMMER PASTURE: EVENING OUTSIDE THE KIRGHIZ TENT</p> - -<p>It was a good resting-place. An old man spread -for me carpets and rugs, and bade me sleep, and I -lay down for an hour, the sand settling on me all -the time, and blowing into my eyes and my ears and -my lips. In the meantime tea was made for me -from some chips of Mongolian brick tea. The old -Kirghiz took a black block of this solidified tea dust -and cut it with an old razor. The samovar was an -original one. It had no tap, and leaked as fast as it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> -would pour. Consequently, a bowl was set underneath -to catch the drip. This filled five or six times -before boiling-point was reached, the contents of the -bowl being each time returned to the body of the -samovar.</p> - -<p>After tea I went out and sat on a mound among -the cattle, and watched the children drive in sheep -and goats and cows, and the wives milk them all. -It was a scene of gaiety and beauty. There were -many good-looking wives, slender and dainty, though -they were so short in stature, had white turbans on -their heads and jackboots on their feet. As they -went to and fro, laughing among themselves and -bending over the cattle, their breasts hanging like -large full pears at the holes made in their cotton -clothes for the convenience of their babies, they -looked a very gentle and innocent creation. These -women did all the work of milking, and I saw them -handle with rapidity ewes, she-goats, cows, mares, -draining all except the last into common receptacles. -The mares’ milk alone was kept separate, to be made -into koumis. I must say my taste rebelled against -a mixture of sheep’s milk, goats’ milk and cows’ -milk, even when made sour; but the Kirghiz were -not worried with such fastidiousness.</p> - -<p>When the milking was accomplished fires were lit -in oblong holes dug in the earth outside the tents—the -Kirghiz stoves. Bits of mutton were cut up and -fixed on skewers and placed over the glowing ashes -in the holes. So supper was cooked. I was called -into a tent, and there made to sit on a high wooden<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> -trunk, while eight or ten others sat below me on -rugs. “You are a <i>barin</i>,” said the oldest man. -“You must have the highest seat.” Seated up -there, they brought me about a dozen skewers of -grilled mutton on a wooden plate and bade -me eat. I should not have been surprised to see a -sheep’s head brought in to me.</p> - -<p>“Oh,” I said, “it’s far too much for me.”</p> - -<p>“You eat first,” said the old man. “Then we -will eat.”</p> - -<p>So I took a skewer and put them at their ease. -There were in the tent the old man, his son, two -wives of the latter, several children, an old woman, -and a minstrel. Outside and in other tents were -many sons-in-law and daughters-in-law and cousins, -a whole genealogical tree of a family. Among the -Kirghiz all sons remain in the father’s and father’s -father’s family; only the girls change families, sold -or arranged for in marriage. The men all wore hats, -or, rather, bonnets, trimmed with an edging of fox’s -fur, and the foxes from whose thighs this fur had -been taken had been captured by trained eagles. -The Kirghiz are deeply versed in falconry, and have -diverse birds for various preys: hawks for cranes, -for plovers, and for hares. They hunt the fox, -whose skin is very precious, with eagles. They carry -the hawks on their wrists when they ride, and for -the support of heavy birds they have stalls or rests -coming up from their saddles to hold the bird arm, -whilst they hold the horse’s reins with the other. -The most interesting man in the tent in which I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span> -supped was the minstrel, a tall, gaunt heathen in -ragged cotton slops; he thrummed on a two-stringed -guitar and improvised Kirghiz songs till the dusk -grew dark and midsummer night came out with -countless stars over the desert and the tents and the -cattle and the wanderers.</p> - -<p>Asked whether I would sleep inside the tent or -out, I preferred the open air, and my hosts made a -couch for me, a pile of rugs over an uneven thickness -of mown clover. And there I lay and watched -the stars come into their places in the sky as at the -lifting of a conductor’s baton. It was St. John’s -Eve, a night of mystery and of remembrances. A -young moon looked down on me. In the twenty -tents around me were singing and music and -momentary strange illuminations. Inside the tents -the Kirghiz set fire every now and then to piles of -weeds, which flared up, causing all the felt walls and -roofs of the tents to glow like strange, enormous, -shimmering paper lanterns, like fire reflected in -silver. They would suddenly glimmer and glow and -glimmer again, the light would go, and the grey-white -tent would be opaque again.</p> - -<p>All night across the sleeping encampment came -volumes of music from young throats, the songs of -the children minding the cattle. The stillness of the -night reigned about this music, and was intensified -by the <i>dun-dun</i> of rusty camel-bells, the jangle of -the irons on hobbled horses, the occasional sneeze of -a sheep with a cold, and the hullabaloo of dogs -barking on false alarms. I lay and was nibbled under<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span> -by goats, trying to get at the clover, and breathed at -by ruminating cows.</p> - -<p>So the night passed. Orion chased the Pleiades -across the sky. The eyes that stared or lay open -and were stared at by the stars drooped, and eyelids -came down over the little windows. Sprites danced -among us, tiptoed where we slept, breathed devilry -upon our faces and dusty clothes, and I dreamed -sweetly of home and other days.</p> - -<p>Next morning I felt the turn of the year and -looked forward to the glorious autumn and the new -life coming after the long journey and the much -tramping.</p> - -<p>I was up at the dawning and away before the -hot sun rose. The old man of the Kirghiz gave me -my breakfast himself, a pot of <i>airann</i> and a cake of -<i>lepeshka</i>, and came forward with me, showing me -the track onward towards Sergiopol.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XIII<br /> - - -<small>OVER THE SIBERIAN BORDER</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">I CROSSED the Lepsa by a bridge made of old -herring barrels, struck the highway to Sergiopol -at Romanovskaya, and pursued my journey along -the sandy wastes and salt swamps on the eastern -borders of Lake Balkhash. The Lepsa falls into this -great lake at last. The wind blew up the sand so -that there was some chance of missing the way, and -I sat some hours on my knapsack and shut my eyes -to keep the sand out. It was dreary country, yellow -and inhospitable. The odour of the bleached grasses -and herbs was almost overpowering, and food and -palatable water were far to seek. Tall, bleached and -withered grasses and white weeds and dust-laden, -knobbly steppe; wind and racing sand—sand in my -eyes, in my mouth, on my body—I felt a most -despicable creature, and questioned my sanity in ever -starting out on such an absurd journey as this -through Russian Central Asia. But I saw ahead of -me Sergiopol, Semipalatinsk, and a happier clime. -Sixty versts north of Romanovskaya the road, -gradually ascending a long moor, entered broken -country through black and rusty mountainettes, and -here was a little crooked gorge with a stream through -it, and it was possible to sit by my own little fire<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> -and make tea for myself once more. Then more -moorland, and heavily scented grass, and enormous -bustards, the size of goats, and skinny little brown -marmots, and withered mullein stalks, and comical -blue jackdaws perching on them and cocking their -heads to one side and peering at me as I passed. -Then streams of colonists and their carts. Then an -official and his wife, sleeping in their night attire in -their slowly moving <i>tarantass</i>, huge pillows for their -heads, and sheets and quilts and what not—an -example of the Russians’ gift for making themselves -at home. Near Ince-Agatch I met two -Germans going cheerfully along on foot—as I was—a -botanist and a geologist, neither of them speaking -Russian, but feeling pretty well as much at home as -in Germany, more so, perhaps. One wonders what -was their fortune at the outbreak of war. There are -certain international pursuits that know no restriction -of national or imperial ground. I do not -suppose the Russian grudges the German making a -study of his flowers and rocks—if he is not spying -at the same time. Probably we ought not to lay so -much stress on purely national research in ornithology, -entomology, geology, botany, the ways of -peoples, and so forth. Individuals and their work -are dedicated to their nation and their empire, but -that should not keep our practical scientists, collectors, -prospectors, students to a mere portion of the -surface of the globe. Russian Central Asia and -Siberia claims greater attention from our scientific -men, hunters, and expert collectors. Russians, on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> -whole, do little; Germans have done something; but -it does not matter by whom it is explored, there lies -here a vast natural field for the study of mankind. -These domains are scarcely touched, except by vulgar -gold hunters and rock tappers—people of paltry greed -and little imagination. The great era of research -has not even begun, and libraries of books have yet -to be written on the natural wonders and astonishing -discoveries to be found and made in this wilder and -more neglected half of Asia. After the war Siberia -and Russian Central Asia will begin to draw more -attention from us.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_204.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">FOUR WIVES OF A RICH KIRGHIZ</p> - -<p>Sergiopol, the last point in Seven Rivers Land -before entering Siberia, is a beautifully situated -diminutive town, or, rather, village, for it has been -degraded from the rank of town. The hills and -moors around it are beautiful virgin country, bathed -in pleasant sunshine and breathing healthful air; but -in itself it is but a miserable place, a collection of -wee grocer-shops and cotton stores. The shopkeepers -are mostly Tartars, doing very small trade and thinking -it very large and feeling “passing rich.” The -vendors of cotton goods do the most trade, for all -the Kirghiz wear cotton and give a great deal of -consideration to the purchase of it. I met a commercial -traveller smoking a cigarette in the market-place, -a man sent out by one of the great cotton -firms of Moscow, and he was carrying bags of -samples to all the stores of Seven Rivers Land. -The Tartars took so long to decide what they were -going to buy that the traveller was reduced to a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span> -novel procedure. Directly he arrived at a settlement -he took from his chest eight bags of samples, and -went rapidly from one shop to another, leaving a -bag at each, and saying he would return in an hour -and a half. Then he went into the market-place and -had a smoke and chat with chance comers. If there -were more than eight shops he had a second round, -and distributed the bags to the remainder after the -first set had come to a decision. Not a very good -way of doing business, one would think; but, then, -the Tartars spoke in their own language, consulted -their wives about materials and colours, and liked to -be free of the presence of the Russian. He did -quite a good business. He told me that his cotton -goods found a large market in China. The Chinese -and the Kirghiz were extremely critical as to the -quality of the cotton and the colour and design. You -could not palm off shoddy cotton on these people. -It was their Sunday best as well as week-day, and -their outer garment as much and more than undergarment. -Its quality and appearance mattered. -Neither German cotton nor their own Lodz manufacture -was any use. Lodz is the great centre for -the production of shoddy cotton—so much so that -the adjective Lodzinsky is a Russian colloquialism for -shoddy, and when you say <i>Lodzinsky tovar</i> it is more -than when we say “a bit of Brummagem.” Moscow, -however, produces good qualities of cotton and good -prints. Manchester has dropped behind Moscow in -this respect and tended to compete rather with Lodz. -Perhaps after the war we shall solve this passion for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> -cheapness, this competition with Germany in turning -out <i>cheap</i> wares, and will revert to our earlier -prejudice in favour of British quality. It is rather -touching in Russia that best quality goods are often -called <i>Anglisky tovar</i> (English wares), even when -made in Russia. Our reputation for thoroughness -survives.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_206.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">AT A KIRGHIZ FUNERAL</p> - -<p>Still, I do not suppose that Great Britain will -ever compete with Russia in the supply of cotton to -the interior. Russians and English living in Russia -have imported our British machinery and set up mills -which are really British mills on Russian soil, and an -enormous business has been founded. Russia, moreover, -hopes to be able to grow enough raw cotton in -her Central Asian dominions to be able to make her -cotton business a national self-dependent industry. -Cotton is the material mostly used for clothing in -Russia, even in the towns. The women are still -content with cotton dresses and the men with cotton -blouses. When cloth and “stuff” come in, if they -ever do, the cotton industry will tend to degenerate, -but not till then.</p> - -<p>Sergiopol is a place of little significance. But -the next town, Semipalatinsk, in Siberia, is a large -colonial town, with over 35,000 inhabitants—larger, -even, than Verney. But Siberia is an old-established -Russian colony, while Seven Rivers began only fifty -years ago, and was a desert. Perhaps even now it is -little more than a desert qualified by irrigation. The -obstacles in the way of successful settlement have -been tremendous. Still, these obstacles are being<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> -overcome. The result of half a century’s work is a -measure of clear success and a healthy promise. -Hundreds of Russian villages have established themselves, -and the channels of small trade have been -kept open. Yellow deserts have become green with -verdure, and chains of oases have been made. -Russian schools and Russian churches have arisen on -the northern side of India, and an essentially -Christian culture is spreading in a way that is clearly -profitable to the Old World. The colony sadly needs -a railway, and the railway is being built quickly, -even now, in the time of the war. For the Kirghiz, -who do most of the labour, are not required for -military service. When the railway comes, more -people will come with it, more colonists, more -traders, and they will take away the products which -the farmers would gladly sell. We are accustomed -to think of railways spoiling districts, but Russian -Central Asia, with its empty leagues of sand and -barrenness, will only profit by the railway. The railway -must go east from Tashkent all the way to -Verney, and probably as far as Kuldja, in China, -then northward, through Iliisk and Sergiopol, to -Semipalatinsk, through Siberian farms and settlements, -forests and marshes, to the Siberian main -line at Omsk. This will greatly strengthen the -Russian Empire when it is achieved. It will be a -wise measure of consolidation.</p> - -<p>M. de Vesselitsky, in his able book on Russia, -remarks that whereas in 1906 the population of -Canada was greater than that of Siberia, in 1911<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> -Siberia had two million more inhabitants. This is -the more astonishing because Canada has splendid and -populous towns, whereas Siberia has only three cities -of over a hundred thousand inhabitants. A strange -contrast to European Russia, this Asiatic Russia; no -Court, no Emperor, no aristocracy, no modern aims -or claims, no power—in a sense, human tundra and -taiga, though many millions are living there. Then -a power enters it, commercial capital and the Russian -desire to get rich, and Siberia begins to seek new -wealth. European Russia and the dazzling if somewhat -tawdry West begins to hear of the wealth of -Siberia. Our civilisation, the centre of attraction, -draws from all the outside wilds and wildernesses -gold, precious stones, skins. So we help Siberia in -the material sense and set its industrial life a-going.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XIV<br /> - - -<small>ON THE IRTISH</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE most interesting circumstance in the -history of Semipalatinsk up till now is that -Dostoieffsky, in exile, was domiciled there. The cities -dotting the wastes of Siberia are not notable. They -are young, and things have not happened in them. -But dreary Semipalatinsk held the mightiest spirit in -modern Russia—Fedor Dostoieffsky, the author of -“The Brothers Karamazof.” So Semipalatinsk, on -the loose sands of the River Irtish, has now its -Dostoieffsky house, where Dostoieffsky lived, and a -Dostoieffsky street. It will, no doubt, be a place of -pilgrimage in the future for those wishing to grasp -the significance of the great Russian.</p> - -<p>Semipalatinsk is a dull collection of wooden -houses and stores, an important trading centre -functionising an immense country-side. What struck -me most were the large general shops, with their -extensive supplies of manufactured goods and all -manner of luxuries. There were at least six department -stores, with handsome clocks, vases, bedroom -furniture, mandolins, violins, guitars, Vienna boots, -American boots, gay hats, silk dresses, wrapped -chocolates, promiscuous and lavish supplies of all -manner of European goods. English wares seemed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> -noticeable chiefly by their absence, and the cutlery -was Swedish, the stoves Austrian, the wools and the -cottons Russian, the note-paper American or French, -the wonderful enamel ware and nickel and aluminium -ware German. Only sanitary contrivances, cream -separators, and agricultural machinery seemed to be -English. How much more of these things might -be sent. However, with all these signs of luxury—luxury -for Russians—Semipalatinsk lacks the graces -of a town; has no lighting, no pavement or public -place, no theatre, only a cinema. Its prospect is -waste, loose sand, which the air holds even in calm—a -grit in the eyes and in the mouth. Its trees do -not flourish, and only people accustomed to a quiet -life could go on living there from year to year. The -peasants bring most life into the town, selling their -products in the immense open market, or buying -manufactured goods to take up-country to their -farms. The broad River Irtish flows placidly onward, -five hundred miles to Omsk and thousands of miles to -the Arctic Ocean, and it is navigated by a considerable -number of steamers and sailing boats. It is a -great waterway—a sort of safer sea in the heart of Asia. -The wonder is that more towns have not sprung up -on its shores. In the history of the world it has not -yet become a typical river. It flows from the silences -of the Altai mountains, through the silences of -Northern Asia, the noise of man hardly ever becoming -more than a whisper upon it. It never becomes</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Bordered by cities and hoarse</div> -<div class="verse">With a thousand cries,</div> -</div></div> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>and it cannot be said that as we go onward to its -mouth</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="indent2">Cities will crowd to its edge</div> -<div class="verse">In a blacker incessanter line;</div> -<div class="verse">That the din will be more on its banks,</div> -<div class="verse">Denser the trade on its stream.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>It is almost as peaceful and serene as a river in an -undiscovered continent.</p> - -<p>At Semipalatinsk I stayed some days before -taking boat up-stream to Malo-Krasnoyarsk. It was -here that I read of the astonishing intelligence of the -assassination of the Archduke of Austria and his -wife. The Russian papers of the time devoted a -great deal of space to the details of the murder, the -reprisals taken by the Austrians, the gossip of -Europe. The preoccupation of the British Press -with home affairs was astonishing, and in all the -telegraphed opinions of our representative papers -there was not an utterance that overstepped the -limits of conventionality. Whether the murder was -planned politically by Germany, as has been hinted, -or planned politically by Serbia for vengeance, or -came about accidentally through the passion of a -noble Serb, it was in any case a test phenomenon. -It had enormous significance to diplomatists and -scanners of political horizons. By the attitude and -behaviour of Germany and Austria their intentions, -at least in the Near East, could be gauged. But it -did not seem of sufficient importance to conscious -England. The Austrians tried to spread the idea -that Russia had contrived and bought the murder of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span> -the Archduke because she feared his intentions in the -Balkans. But, out of the Germanic dominions, that -did not carry weight. Austria manifestly threatened -Serbia politically, and some British people scratched -their heads and asked questions: “Shall we go to -war for Serbia?” Then came the seemingly obvious -answer: “No, not for <i>Serbia</i>!” which fairly indicates -the blindness of that part of England which was -vocal at that time. In that spirit we neglected our -duty in connection with the St. James’s conference -after the first Balkan war, and in that spirit we -alienated Bulgaria in the great European war which -followed.</p> - -<p>Austria threatened war, and there was clearly -the prospect of Austria and Russia fighting. I -weighed it up in my mind as I waited at Semipalatinsk, -and more than once I asked myself whether -I had not better give up my journey onward and go -straight to Western Russia. But, deciding I did not -want to write war correspondence, I concluded I -would continue my way, and rest as I had intended—on -the verdant Altai. So I left Semipalatinsk and -went in a little steamer up the narrowing and rocky -river, past wooded islands, grey moors, and emerald -marshes. It was a long though not monotonous river -journey. We stopped at elementary wooden landing-stages -beside small hamlets, bought eggs, fish, fruit -from peasant women and children, backed out into -midstream again, making our big wave that went -washing along the banks and drenching incautious -boys and girls; we beat up the water with our paddle,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span> -turned, saw ourselves clear of the pier, and a widening -stretch of water between us and the bank, found -our course between the buoys, avoided the weirs and -the shallows. Morning became hot noon, and the -afternoon and twilight time came on, and then -luminous starry night, and again morning and hot -noon. We stopped at the little town of Ust-Kamennygorsk, -the headquarters for several mining -camps, a bit of qualified civilisation not unknown -to British mining engineers. We had on board a -couple of priests, a commercial traveller, some workmen -coming back from doing a job, and two dozen -raw Cossacks who had been ordered to serve on the -Chinese frontier—rather interesting to reflect now -how they were travelling away from the place where -they would be needed. At that time all the preparations -for war were going on apace in Germany; the -roads were full of horses newly bought by the -Government, the trains full of stores; at the military -camps the last manœuvres were being worked out -with full regiments and the complete panoply of -war. We in the steamboat were all travelling the -wrong way, away from the interest of the world—the -centre—up-stream on the fast-flowing river, against -the currents and the tendencies. A month later all -would come back, forced by the declaration of war. -Still, little we recked. We had a holiday spirit. -There were several high-school girls and girl students -on board—<i>gimnasistki</i> and <i>kursistki</i>—and the deck -was vocal with their chattering and laughing. They -were a charming contrast to rough Siberia. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> -deck passengers drank vodka and sang. Down below -deck was a public stove, and there sizzled a score -of pots—pots with jam, with eggs, with fish, with -chickens, with milk. I made my coffee there, and -would frequently see it rising at the boil and be -unable to pick the pot out for others tending their -fish-soup and women taking the scum off their -strawberry jam. At each little village people bought -things to cook, so that at times you might have -thought it was a sort of cooking expedition.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_214.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">KIRGHIZ PRAYING</p> - -<p>So we went on at this momentous time in -history. The river became more rapid and difficult -to navigate; it serpentined through wild gorges, -where the rocks were broken and ragged and squared -and angular. The steep cliffs were full of detail that -was delicious to the eye. Where the cliffs were not -so steep Nature had clothed their nakedness with -mould and grass. We passed from placid stretches -which seemed to throw the rays of the sun back on -the ship, the people and the sky, and we entered the -intense cold shadow of high, sheer rocks. The water -became green and shadowy. The scenery changed -every moment as we went round a new bend of the -river and entered new territory through forbidding -gates of rock. Frequently we found ourselves in -foaming cauldrons from which there seemed to be no -exit; we wandered round, travelling as often north -as south, and catching glimpses of sun from all -imaginable quarters, and found loopholes of escape -to new reaches. The steamer seemed a toy beside the -huge cliffs on each side, and the sunshine, when we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> -came into it, seemed sufficient to blind the whole -Altai. The higher we pursued our winding way the -higher became the cliffs, till eventually we had grey -crags of several hundred feet hanging over us. In -the earlier gorges the greenness of the vegetation of -the hills was reflected in the river in a deep, shadowy -green, but in the later ones the drear greyness of the -cliffs was alone reflected, and the swift-moving, placid -water looked like oil. As far as Gusinaya Pristan -trees—birches—but infrequent ones, and growing in -haphazard ways from clefts in rocks. Besides our -panting, puffing steamer, with its streamer of dense -smoke and persistent showers of sparks, there were -only rafts on the river—logs roped together, and -peasants standing on the water-washed floating platforms. -They seemed to be very skilful in managing -them. On the banks we saw occasional tents and -fishermen’s tackle, small fires with tripods over -them, and old black pots whereby you guessed that -fish were cooking. Occasional hay-making parties -also visible on the wan outskirts of farms. It was a -fascinating journey, and one could not take one’s -eyes from the changing scene, the prospect from door -after door as we passed new rocks, the delicious side -views, the clefts and wounds healed with birch trees -and greenery, the battered, jaggy prominences, dull -blue, purple, yellow with age and many weathers.</p> - -<p>Everyone watched curiously for the next scene, -and the change was so frequent that no one got -tired. Mountains, ridges—the grandeur of our rock -basins multiplied upon us so that we felt we were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span> -steadily ascending a high mountain range by river. -Night was wonderful, especially when we stopped to -put some cargo off or to take on wood, and we got -out and walked on the cliffs and the sand; the stars -in the sky had their drips of golden reflection in the -river, and the opposite banks and rocks were majestically -silhouetted against the sky. The navigation of -this river is, perhaps, one of the sights of the future. -“Parties will be taken out.” But there is no -romance there, no castles, no ruins—only Nature and -the grey tumultuous misery and beauty of a scarred -continent.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XV<br /> - - -<small>THE COUNTRY OF THE MARAL</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">MALO-KRASNOYARSK, on the Irtish, is a -hot, sandy village supporting itself by agriculture, -fishing, and melon growing. It is treeless, -no one seeming to have cared to plant the trees -which could so easily have been grown, and the -native Kirghiz are employed making fuel blocks out -of manure. The stacks of these black blocks give an -unpleasant odour when the wind is blowing over -them. Otherwise, the Irtish is rather wonderful—deep -and green and swift, with powerful currents.</p> - -<p>From Malo-Krasnoyarsk I journeyed along the -burnt road and over the vast stretches of pungent -wormwood that grow on the moors. The road -climbed to the mountain ridges of the Narimsky -range, and along them to the Central Altai. I had -given up tramping now, and an old man in a dirty -crimson blouse drove me in a cart to Bozhe-Narimsky -village, took me for three shillings, and was ready -to drive me to Kosh Agatch, on the other side of -the mountains, if I would say but the word. Kosh -Agatch, according to his reckoning, would be five -hundred miles, and he would have to plan a month’s -journey over the mountains, hire extra horses, and -buy provisions. According to him traders made the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> -journey frequently, especially Tartars and Chinamen, -buying maral horns.</p> - -<p>On the higher slopes of the Altai the sale of the -horns of the maral deer (<i>Cervus canadensis asiaticus</i>) -seems to be, if not the chief, at least the most -picturesque means of earning a livelihood. I was -making my way into the maral country. Here the -colonists, instead of farming sheep and cows, farm a -species of deer with very valuable horns—the maral. -The horns are not valuable as ornaments, or as bone, -or as drinking vessels, but as medicine. A very -curious trade. The Russians cut off the horns of -the deer every spring, boil them, dry them, and sell -them into China, where they sell at the rate of -about a shilling an ounce, and give almost miraculous -relief to women in the pains of childbirth, make it -possible for barren women to have children, and many -other things.</p> - -<p>“Is it good for that purpose?” I asked of the -man who was driving me.</p> - -<p>“They say so,” said he, without committing -himself.</p> - -<p>“But do Russian women use this medicine?”</p> - -<p>“No; it’s too expensive.”</p> - -<p>“But do they believe in it?”</p> - -<p>“No, they don’t need it. They are not like the -Kitankas and Mongolians, who suffer very much. -These Chinawomen are like the camels here. The -camels would die out if it were not for the skill -the Kirghiz women have in making them breed. -They would die out, but the Kirghiz keep them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> -going. The same with the Chinawomen; they need -the powder of the maral horn. No Chinawoman of -any importance thinks of marrying without a pair of -maral horns in her possession, and if her father be -too poor to purchase them, the husband must. They -all use it, and you can buy the powder in any -chemist’s shop in China.”</p> - -<p>“Or an imitation?” I suggested.</p> - -<p>My driver could not say whether the substance -could be imitated. Later on, on my journey, I saw -marals, both on the run and in the immense maral -gardens which the Russians keep in their colony.</p> - -<p>Bozhe-Narimsky was a pleasant green corner, -with tumbling river, many willow trees, mosquitoes, -marshes. Thence the road went higher and higher to -Maly Narimsky and Tulovka, through districts where -once were forests of great pines and now are only -forests of stumps, through wildernesses of pink -mallow and purple larkspur, and over vast, swelling -uplands covered with verdure, finally to within sight -of gleaming streaks of snow and ice, the glaciers of -the central range. Bozhe-Narimsky, Maly Narimsky, -Tulovka, Medvedka, Altaiskaya, Katun-Karagai were -the names of the Russian villages and Cossack stations -on the way up. Most of them were well-established -settlements, for this territory is Siberia, and not what -is called Russian Central Asia. It has been in -Russian hands a long while, and only the fact that -Russia is so vast, and there is so much room for the -overflow of population, explains the backwardness of -the colonisation of the Altai. Russia has never had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span> -any enemies worth the name here, and has very little -to fear unless the Chinese ever turn bellicose. The -only people who stood in her way were the mild -nomads, the Kalmeeks and the Kirghiz. These had -unrecognised rights to certain valleys, springs, winter -pastures, summer pastures, and they walled off their -discoveries with stones and boulders, never dreaming -anyone would think of annexing them. But when -the Russian generals came riding down the valleys -with their engineers, saying, “Fix me a village here -and a village there, and give us twenty villages along -the length of that valley,” no Kirghiz or Kalmeek -had the spirit to say nay, and with a melancholy -smile they crept away, leaving the fields to those who -must take them.</p> - -<p>Near Tulovka I saw the first marals, six speedy -deer running ahead of as many horsemen, just outrunning -their horses, but not disposed to race out of -sight and get lost. The horsemen, who were -Cossacks, carried lassos in their hands, and I rather -wondered why they did not shoot the deer and have -done with their hunting. A villager put me right, -however.</p> - -<p>“These are not wild deer, but escaped ones,” -said he. “There are no wild deer left; they have all -been caught now. No one has seen a wild maral for -fifteen years. They have all been caught and put in -gardens, and now we breed them. If they shoot -these marals they lose six good breeders. A buck -maral is worth two hundred roubles. It’s a sad day -for the man who has lost these. It is very difficult<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> -to catch them, they are very crafty; and then one -doesn’t want to injure their horns in taking them. -They generally have to ride them down until they -are dead beat; no use frightening them; just keep -them on the move and give them no rest.”</p> - -<p>At Medvedka I stayed with an old man who kept -a maral farm. My host was a comical fellow, somewhat -over six feet high, with long hair, bushy beard, -kind and gentle eyes—a giant’s shoulders, an ogre’s -stomach, but the walk and manners of a child. His -great pine log house had a threshold so large that -you might almost call it a veranda but that peasants -do not have verandas. There were steps up to it, -and then a long covered way, one side of which was -the log wall of the house, in which peeped wee glass -windows; the other side was a solid little railing, -where you could lean and watch the pigs, the turkeys, -the geese, the horses and dogs in the big farm-bounded -farmyard. Beyond the yard and the pasture -stretched upward the voluminous and irregular mountain-side, -deep in a tangle of shadowy undergrowth -and made majestical by mighty firs. The gloom and -splendour of the mountains brooded over the big -log house.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_222.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">IN THE ALTAI: KIRGHIZ TOMBS NEAR MEDVEDKA</p> - -<p>On the veranda were a whole series of green, -many-branching antlers just sawn away from heads of -marals—an unusual sight in any cottage. They were -velvety and hairy; if you touched them you found -them soft. Not the antlers hunters bring home and -hang on their walls, nothing hard or sharp or fearsome, -but gentle, rounded and smooth-knobbed, unripened<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span> -antlers, sawn off from a stag’s head with a -saw.</p> - -<p>Mikhail Nikanorovitch, mine host, took me up to -his maral farm, a tract of mountain-side many acres -in extent, fenced in by a gigantic paling, the posts -of which were eight or nine feet high and very solid. -The maral is a magnificent jumper, and has been -known to clear eight feet upon occasion and get -away. As the farmer has to buy the posts from the -Government, the construction of a <i>maralnik</i>, as they -call it, is not without considerable expense for the -peasants. Quite a small place would cost two hundred -roubles.</p> - -<p>Mikhail and I stumped up the mountain-side -quite a height till we came to his wild enclosure. -Mine host called the deer as his peasant wife might -have called chickens to their food, and they came -fluttering towards him to be fed, but, spying me, -stopped short, sniffed the air, then turned and fled to -the wildernesses of their prison.</p> - -<p>“In the summer they are in this big place,” said -Mikhail, “but in late autumn, before the snows, we -drive them into a smaller place, and we feed them -there all the winter. It is in this smaller place that -we saw off the horns in the early summer.”</p> - -<p>He took me along to the shed where the horns -were sawn off.</p> - -<p>“We make the first cutting only when the calf -has reached its third year. We cut off the horns in -June and the beginning of July—when the antlers -are most developed and so worth most. If we leave<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> -them later they harden and are no use. They would -then have to be allowed to bear their horns till next -spring, when in any case they shed them.”</p> - -<p>“What happens to those who have had their -antlers sawn off; do they shed the stumps?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, they shed their stumps. That is in April -or May; and then they change their coats and are -generally in a bad state of health.”</p> - -<p>He described how they managed the animal -during the sawing business: put its fore-legs in a -noose, its hind-legs in a noose, threw it on the -ground, bandaged the eyes, someone carefully holding -the head and saving the horns from damage all the -time. They sawed off the horn with an ordinary -hand-saw—such a one was lying on a sort of bench -in the shed to which the old fellow had led me—and -when the sawing was done they stopped the bleeding -with coaldust and salt, and then tied up the stump -tightly with linen. The blood soon stops flowing, -and the maral, being put at liberty, forgets and -scarce knows what he has lost. In their tamed state -the deer have found a sort of alternative destiny, and -the peasants say that often marals which escape in the -summer come back voluntarily to the enclosures for -food and shelter in winter-time. Still, some do finally -disappear, and although the villager I met earlier was -of opinion that all the marals had been caught, there -must still be many thousands at large upon the vast -and unexplored Altai. In their wild state they are -extremely shy of human beings, and seemingly with -good reason.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>Old Mikhail, who was a kind of three-storied -man, pottered about, stooping the whole length of -his huge body to pick wild strawberries and raspberries, -and he constantly called out to me to help -myself to fruit. When we got back to the farmhouse -I found his wife boiling a chicken for me in a -pail over a bonfire in the garden.</p> - -<p>Mikhail showed me where they boiled the horns, -and explained the process of preservation. There -were enormous coppers for the boiling. The horns -were put into boiling brine, just dipped in and taken -out several times. The difficulty was to immerse -them and yet not touch the metal sides of the pots. -If the sides were touched the delicate skin might -easily be frayed. After the immersion the horns were -exposed in the open air. They dried fairly rapidly, -and lost weight; by the time they would be ready for -sale they would have lost half their original weight. -In the late summer and autumn Chinese and Tartar -merchants appeared and made great deals in maral -horns throughout the whole district. In China the -substance of the horn is known as <i>ludzon</i>.</p> - -<p>Mikhail was an extraordinarily hospitable type of -peasant, and heaped plenty on the table that evening—a -great crust of honeycomb, for he kept his -own bees and possessed a hill-side dotted with white -hives; wooden basins full of berries; butter—and -butter is rare enough in peasants’ houses; and soup -and chicken and white bannocks. We had an amusing -talk about England. He had never seen a train, -the sea, an Englishman, or a German or a Frenchman,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span> -or, indeed, any race but Russian, Kirghiz, -Chinamen, Tartars, Kalmeeks. We compared the -prices of things, and he was greatly alarmed at the -cost of meat in England. I made him wonder -more and more.</p> - -<p>“Now, for instance, a hare,” said I. “I do not -suppose they cost much here, but in our country we -pay six or seven shillings for one at Christmas.”</p> - -<p>Mikhail was astonished.</p> - -<p>“What, for the skin?” asked he.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no; we don’t value the skin—throw it -away or sell it to the rag-and-bone man for twopence.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t mean to say you pay that for a hare. -Now, here we keep the skin to sell and throw away -the flesh. It’s good enough for hogs. I never -thought of a hare having a price as food. I don’t -know that I could say what was the price of hare’s -flesh here. We throw it away.”</p> - -<p>He played with the idea, and then eventually -inquired of me whether it were possible to get an -iced freight-truck from Omsk to London, and what -would it cost.</p> - -<p>I could not say.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Mikhail, “supposing we put a -nominal price of two copecks (a halfpenny) a hare -exported from here, we could make a big profit, and -it seems to me they could be got to London, and -there would be a big profit for every one concerned.”</p> - -<p>I promised to give the matter my consideration, -and he was so much in earnest that, despite the fact<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span> -he had never seen a train and could neither read nor -write, he made me note his address carefully and -take it to England, where I could give it to a -<i>commersant</i>, and he would contrive matters.</p> - -<p>“Tell him,” said he, “that we can let him have -ten hares for a rouble. Good night.”</p> - -<p>I was getting ready to lie down. Some overcoats -had been spread on the floor for me.</p> - -<p>“Tell him there’s no end to the number of hares -to be had here. Good night,” said he again.</p> - -<p>And after I had lain down he came to me again -and said:</p> - -<p>“Are you comfortable? There was a man here -once who made his fortune exporting <i>sarka</i> skins. -Good night.”</p> - -<p>Next morning he gave me a large metal pot of -honey and black currants mixed, as a present, and he -drove me to Altaiskaya Stanista, the top of the -Altai, himself.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XVI<br /> - - -<small>THE DECLARATION OF WAR</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT is a fine mountain road from Medvedka to -Altaiskaya, over mighty open upland where the -great firs grasp the earth with talon-like roots. Here -and there along the road are Kirghiz tombs enclosed -by rude hurdles, reminding one of the palings of the -maral gardens. An occasional Russian hut, a mountain -stream pouring across a road, forests of stumps, -and again forests of those giant firs standing as against -the wind—storm trees, broad at base, needle-pointed -at the apex, every branch a strong son.</p> - -<p>At Altaisky I proposed to stay a few weeks, and -then cross the mountains to the Kosh Agatch road, -northward toward Biisk; but the tidings of war came -across my plan here, and farther than the Altai I -did not go. But I had a quiet fortnight in a wonderful -spot—Altaiskaya, opposite Mount Belukha, one -of the great snow peaks that stand on sentry here -between China and Siberia, and I walked and -climbed. It would be a splendid place in which to -spend a whole summer. There are places that are so -placid and beautiful that you exclaim: “Good -heavens, this is a very paradise!” When you have -been there a day you want to stay there for ever, or -to go away and to return and return again. So it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span> -was at little Bobrovo on the Dwina, so again at -Altaisky. I thought to myself I shall come here -again and spend six months, and write a long and -interesting story. And I will ask “Pan” to come, -and he also will come and write a wonderful story. -“Pan” is an English friend, a great, tall, gentle, -quick-scented human, a dear mortal who snuffs the -air with his nose and can tell you thereby what has -happened in a place any time this three weeks past.</p> - -<p>Altaiskaya was full of the freshness of youth, and -the air gave you wings and its valleys were full of -wonderful flowers. I have a long-acquired habit of -associating a certain phrase in the Lord’s Prayer -with the most beautiful thing I have seen during -the day, and if I have seen nothing beautiful, and -have been leading a dull life in a town, my mind -goes roving back to certain wondrous sights in the -past. Most frequently of all it goes to the wastes, -covered with crimson poppies, in Russian Central -Asia, and occasionally to the verdure and splendour -of the Altai and the delphiniums there, the blue, -purple and yellow monkshood, the China-blue larkspurs, -blue and purple larkspurs. A wonderful place -for flowers. Here are sweeps of blue sage, mauve -cranesbills poking everywhere, saffron poppies, grass -of Parnassus, campanula, pink moss flowers and giant -thistle-heads, gentian, Siberian iris.</p> - -<p>Just outside the Cossack settlement it was late -summer, and the glossy peony fruits were turning -crimson from green, opening to show rows of black -teeth—seeds. But as you climbed upward toward the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> -snow the season changed, and it was possible to -recover the lost spring.</p> - -<p>The southern side of the mountains seemed to be -very bare, but our side, the northern one, was green. -It was comparatively easy to reach districts where -it might be thought no foot of man had ever trod—primeval -moss-grown forest, where were no tracks, -no flowers, nothing but firs and moss. Numberless -trees had fallen, and the moss had grown over them, -and, in climbing through, one helped oneself from -tree to tree, balancing and finding a footing. Above -this jungle was a stretch of steep mountain-side -sparsely grown with young firs, and then grey, -barren, slippery rock. Wonderful shelves and -chasms, fissures, precipices, and ways up without -ways down, boulder-strewn tracks and founts of -bubbling water, milk-white streams, crystal streams.</p> - -<p>I was housed very well with a prosperous Cossack -family, and, except for the fact that there was a -terrible monotony in their dinners, had no reason -to complain. Every evening when I returned there -was beef “cutlets,” white scones and butter, a jug -of milk, and the samovar. The whole family was in -the fields hay-making all day, and were indisposed -to give time to cooking.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_230.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">ALTAISKA <i>STANITSA</i>: VIEW OF MOUNT BIELUKHA</p> - -<p>Most days I spent by the side of a little mountain -river, where I built a sort of causeway out of rocks, -diverted the channel, made a deep bathing-pool—enthralling -occupations. Here also I had a bonfire, -made coffee, baked potatoes, cooked red currant jam. -Strips of red currants hung like bunting on some of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span> -the bushes, and were so thick that you could pick a -potful in a quarter of an hour. Here also I sorted -out and re-read thirty or forty copies of <i>The Times</i>, -saved up for me, with letters, at the post office of -Semipalatinsk—all the details of the political quarrel -over Ulster, the resignation of Sir John French (as -he was then called), of Colonel Seely, the vigorous -speeches of Mr. John Ward, the brilliant defences -of Mr. Asquith. We seemed to be running forward -silently and smoothly to an exciting rebellion or civil -war in Ireland, and nobody seemed to deplore the -prospect of strife. The Government, nominally in -favour of peace at all costs, were incapable of preventing -their opponents obtaining arms, and were, -therefore, allowing their friends to arm. On the -whole we seemed to be tired of the dull blessings of -peace, out of patience with peace. Yet we were not -ready for the strife that was coming, though certainly -in a mood to take arms. It is astonishing that with -our many international characters—those diplomatical -journalists of ours—we did not know what was -coming, or no one was at pains to undeceive us. -Journalists abroad, even if they are out of touch with -Courts and are uninfluential, have yet much greater -opportunities for understanding international situations -than Foreign Offices. Why is it that they -nearly always mislead? In our country a certain -glamour overspreads the personality of the polyglot -who writes of foreign Courts and foreign policies, but -as an observer of the Press for many years I can give -it as my opinion that, as a nation, we do not gain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span> -much from the pens of those journalists who run in -and out of chancelleries and are well known at -foreign Courts. In any case, as regards those who -dealt specially with Germany, Austria and the -Balkans at the time of the outbreak of war, they -were either blind or ignorant, which is unthinkable, -or mixed up somehow in the great German intrigue.</p> - -<p>Silence reigned in Europe, and under cover of -that silence what tremendous preparations were being -made, what hurrying to and fro there was. It is -astonishing to look back now to those serene and -happy weeks in the Altai and to feel the contrast of -the innocence of Nature and the devilish conspiracy -in the minds of men. If there are devils in the -world, black spirits as opposed to white spirits, what -triumph was theirs, what hidden ecstasy as at the -coming triumph of negation. Behind the screen of -this silence horns were blowing announcing the great -feasts of death, the blasting of the temples wherein -the spirit of man dwells, the orgy of ugliness and -madness. But being, happily, untuned to this occult -world, we did not hear them.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_232.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">MOBILISATION DAY ON THE ALTAI:<br /> THE VILLAGE EMPTIED OF ITS FOLK</p> - -<p>It was holiday time, the end of July, the Englishman’s -great liberation moment when, even if he goes -on working in office or factory, he ceases to work -hard and lazes at his work. His wife and family have -gone to the seaside. He will join them in a week -or so. Meanwhile he is “camping out at home.” -The young man is buying stout boots and greasing -them for tramping, is scanning maps and guidebooks, -and making absurd tables of mileage, prospective<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span> -hotel bills and expenses. The teachers, with the -children, are liberated from the schools, and the -former are gone on Polytechnic tours and what not, -whilst the latter chalk mysterious diagrams on the -pavement and play hop-scotch, or play “Wallflowers, -wallflowers, growing up so high,” or “This -is the way she went.” The unfashionable but -numerous marriages take place of those who must -make the honeymoon coincide with annual leave, and -the happy couples take Cook’s tickets to Strasburg, -to the Tyrol, to Munich.</p> - -<p>And those Russians who <i>must</i> escape their fellow-Russians, -and don’t like the bad drains of their own -watering-places, are off to German baths and -Bohemian and Austrian spas. Students are tripping -across to Switzerland. And on all in German territory -the guillotine of war is going to fall. At all -the money-changers’ offices at Charing Cross and in -the City you can buy German marks, though there -is not much gold to be had. French gold, English, -Russian can be had in almost any quantities, and -Cook’s will sell you German hotel tickets for all -August.</p> - -<p>One lazy July afternoon I sat on the wooden steps -leading up to my veranda and talked with a Cossack -on wars in general, what prospects of war there -actually were at that moment; and we concluded that -there might possibly be war with Austria. It was -the idlest talk, but the Cossack lives for a new war, -and I did not like to discourage him. He for his -part rather hoped for a nearer war; one with China<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span> -would suit him, but he’d thankfully consider a war -with Austria if nothing else were available.</p> - -<p>I went along the exterior street of the village to -the little post office facing the wall of the White -Ones, as they call the Altai, and talked with the -postmaster about marals, and he closed the office to -go out and show me where his garden was. Here -also were several <i>maralniki</i>, and I found them when -clambering up the ridges, and the deer, seeing me, -would scamper away. The village had a butter -factory, and I used to go there and wait during the -last stages of production for a pound of butter, and, -sitting on a bucket upside down, chatted with other -villagers. Opposite the cottage where I stayed lived -the priest, and he often came across and talked. -The church was the next building after the priest’s -house, and was a beautiful little wooden temple built -by the peasants themselves. I was quickly in the -midst of the life of the settlement, and when the -news came I was at once thought to be the obvious -person to apply to for information. On the 30th of -July, after a long day on the mountains, I slept -serenely on the overcoats on the floor of my Cossack -habitation. Next morning came the young horseman -with the red flag flying from his shoulder, and the -tremendous excitement and clamour of the reception -of the <i>ukase</i> to mobilise for war. As I wrote when -I described this in “Russia and the World,” the -Cossacks were not told with whom the war was or -would be, and one of the first surmises that they -made was that the war must be with England—crafty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span> -old England, who always stood in Russia’s way and -was siding with the Turks again. Or she was afraid -Russia was going to attack India.</p> - -<p>The real news came at last, and with it the -necessity to return to Europe as soon as possible. -The war came across my summer as it came across -the summer of thousands of others, cutting life into -two very distinct parts. At the village of Altaisky I -must draw my war line dividing past and present, -one part of life from this other new astonishing part. -The story of my journey has drawn to its close. -Before, however, leaving the subject of Russian -Central Asia I would give the thoughts and reflections -that the journey has suggested, and especially -those referring to Anglo-Russian rivalry in empire, -the questions of India and Constantinople, the future -of our friendship and of the two empires.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span></p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">APPENDIX I<br /> - - -<small>RUSSIA AND INDIA AND THE PROSPECTS OF -ANGLO-RUSSIAN FRIENDSHIP</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE prospects of Anglo-Russian friendship are -very fair at the moment of writing, the after-the-war -prospects. Generally speaking, international -amity or hostility has heretofore depended on the -absence or presence of clashing interests. Russia does -not stand on our road of Empire, and has never -fought us and could never fight us commercially as -Germany has done. Our only doubt about Russia -has been as to her possible designs on India. Fifty -years ago there were few Englishmen who did not -entertain expectations of eventual war with Russia, -and after the annexation of Merv, and the running -of the Central Asian Railway thither, Beaconsfield -was obliged to assure us that the keys of India were -to be found in London, and consisted in the spirit -and determination of the British people. We felt we -were secure because we could fight Russia and did -not fear her. As Lord Curzon wrote in his book on -Russian Central Asia:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“The day that a Russian army starts forth from -Balkh for the passes of the Hindu Kush, or marches -out of the southern gate of Herat <i>en route</i> for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span> -Kandahar, we may say, as Cromwell did at Dunbar: -‘Now hath the Lord delivered them into my -hand.’”</p> -</div> - -<p>Our other bond of security lay in the fact that -the Russians knew they could not successfully attack -us. Though it must be said now, after our thwarted -efforts against the Turks on Gallipoli and our experience -in Mesopotamia, that it is not clear that we could -count on winning a distant war of invasion. Though we -are increasing daily in military power and sagacity, as a -result of fighting the Germans, we are not so military -a nation as we were in the days of the Crimean War. -But the invasion of India by Russia may well be put -out of the head once and for all. No statesman in -Russia ever seriously contemplated it, and in this -country those statesmen who thought of it either -decried the idea or used it as a political bogey. As -Namirovitch Danchenko said recently: “From my -seventy years’ knowledge of Russian life, I should -say that the people who dreamt about the conquest -of India could be found in Russia only in a mad-house.” -No serious steps were ever taken to thwart -Russian imperial policy in Central Asia, and all that -fear has brought about was mistrust and a refusal to -enter into partnership with Russia in certain schemes -in Asia.</p> - -<p>The Russians have been ready to trust us for a -long time, and they were anxious for an Anglo-Russian -agreement even at the time when the invasion -of India bogey was most in the air here.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span> -Probably the Germans, those persistent enemies of -Anglo-Russian friendship, were responsible for a great -deal of subterranean propaganda in England. Many -in England were pro-Russian—Gladstone (though, of -course, even Gladstone asked for a war credit on -one occasion of fear of Russia), Carlyle, Froude, -Kinglake—there was a real basis of sympathy. But -the poisoners of the mind of the British people -succeeded. What an interesting glimpse of popular -feeling is found in Burnaby’s “Ride to Khiva” if -we read it now. There is a certain poignancy in his -remarks. Consider this passage to-day:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Another peculiarity in several Russians which I -remarked ... was their desire to impress upon my -mind the great advantage it would be for England -to have a civilised neighbour like Russia on her -Indian frontier; and when I did not take the trouble -to dissent from their views—for it is a waste of -breath to argue with Russians about this question—how -eager they were for me to impress their line of -thought upon the circle of people with whom I was -most immediately connected. Of course, the arguments -brought forward were based upon purely -philanthropic motives, upon Christianity and civilisation. -They said that the two great Powers ought to -go together hand in glove; that there ought to be -railways all through Asia, formed by Anglo-Russian -companies; that Russia and England had every -sympathy in common which should unite them; that -they both hated Germany and loved France; that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> -England and Russia could conquer the world, and -so on.</p> - -<p>“It was a line of reasoning delightfully Russian, -and though I was not so rude as to differ from my -would-be persuaders, and lent an attentive ear to all -their eloquence, I could not help thinking that the -mutual sympathy between England and Germany is -much greater than that between England and Russia; -that the Christian faith as practised by the lower -orders in Russia is pure paganism in comparison with -the Protestant religion which exists in Prussia and -Great Britain; that Germany and Great Britain are -natural allies against Russia ... that Germans and -Englishmen understand by the term ‘Russian civilisation’ -something diametrically opposite to what is -attributed to it by those people who form their ideas -of Muscovite progress from the few Russians they -meet abroad.”</p> -</div> - -<p>Burnaby’s remarks seem pretty foolish in 1916. -And his views are representative of the views of -many English in 1875. Prussia, whom he admires -so, had just crushed the French whilst we stood by. -The Boer War had not come. The Kaiser had not -sent his telegram to Kruger. Our military conceit -had not been taken out of us; and so, when -Russia offers Britannia the hand of friendship, -Britannia round her draws her cloak and folds her -arms.</p> - -<p>But Russia was sincere. She admired the -English. She alone of Continental nations appreciated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> -the spirit of Dickens and our Victorian -novelists. England was still the foolish friend of -Turkey, it is true, but she was not <i>perfide Albion</i>. -Nor was she simply “Mr. Cotton,” as Ibsen dismissed -us, or “a nation of shopkeepers.” From the -first Russia has had some sort of <i>flair</i> for the English -gentleman, has seen the best thing in our race; and -their wish for friendship with us has been a sentimental -matter, not a desire for commercial partnership, -not a bond of sympathy between revolutionary -Russia and our Socialists. The desire for friendship -with England dates to before the emergence of our -Socialists as a party in England. It is a genuine -craving for mutual understanding between the real -Russia and the real England.</p> - -<p>Fortunately, that desire on Russia’s part found -an answer on this side. We became friends—we are -now brothers-in-arms against a common foe. If the -shedding of blood for a common ideal strengthens -friendship, we should be good friends for this generation -at least. Those who are young now will keep -in remembrance the stress of these days, the sacrifice, -the common sadness, the shared triumph. Holy -Russia has become near to us, and, despite all -machinations and insinuations, will remain near. -And, with the hope of making things more easy, -let me indicate the points of resistance to Russian -friendship still remaining in our national life.</p> - -<p>I. <i>India.</i>—A number of our people, chiefly on -the Unionist side in politics, still fear Russian designs -on India, and for that reason deny Russia the right<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span> -to Constantinople and the Straits, should she take -them. In doing this they unwittingly play the -German game, which is to reserve Constantinople for -Germany. There are several European journalists in -the pay of Germany, and among other things they -do for their money is the stirring up of British -suspicion about Constantinople and Russia. The fact -is that this is Russia’s legitimate outlet, her front -door, and there can be no settled peace in Europe -as long as it is barred up or liable to be barred. It -is also the seat and capital of the Russian faith, and -what in 1876 Dostoieffsky answered to the question -on what high ground Russia demanded Constantinople -from Europe is still true:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“As the leader of Orthodoxy, as protectress and -preserver of Orthodoxy, the rôle predestined for -Russia since the days of Ivan III. ... that the -nations professing Orthodoxy may be unified under -her, that the Slav nations may know that her protection -is the guarantee of their individual personality -and the safeguard against mutual hostility. Such a -union would not be for the purpose of political -aggression and tyranny, not a matter of commercial -gain. No, it will be a raising of Christ’s truth, preserved -in the East, a real new raising of Christ’s -Cross, and the conclusive word of Orthodoxy at the -head of which will be Russia.... And if anyone -holds that the ‘new word’ which Russia will speak -is ‘utopia,’ worthy only of mockery, then I must be -numbered among the Utopians——”</p> -</div> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>Still, it must be said that at the present moment -Constantinople does not seem likely to fall as a fruit -to the Allies or to Russia, and unless Bulgaria should -turn upon her unnatural allies there is not much -question of St. Sophia becoming Christian again. -We ought only to keep in mind that Russia has -striven for Constantinople not to have a base from -which to oppose us, but in order to keep the door of -her own house and to be Queen of the Eastern -Church.</p> - -<p>The next point, and where the question of India -causes us to be suspicious, is that of Persia. Here, -happily, some understanding has been obtained and -spheres of influence allotted; but our distrust has -stood in the way of the consummation of one of the -most interesting schemes of the century: the trans-Persian -railway. If this railway had been built -before the outbreak of this world-war, it would have -been of extraordinary value to the Allies, an effectual -means of checking the inflammation of Islam. There -will be little money left when the war is over, but -certainly the overland route to India should be one -of the first big civilising schemes to receive attention. -World railways, instead of little bits of lines, belong -to the future of the Old World, and we can have -them now or put it off for another era. It depends -on the faith and imagination of our generation. -Then Persia falls inevitably under European surveillance, -and there is no reason for English and -Russians at the outposts of Empire to compete and -be jealous and suspicious and to squabble.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>For the rest, Russian Central Asia raises no -further problems. It is a peaceful, growing Russian -colony, shut away from the chances of attack by -foreign Powers—likely to remain for a thousand years -one of the most peaceful places upon earth. Unlike -India, it is comparatively empty and its peoples are -decaying. The railways which Russia has built were -built in order to subdue the Tekintsi and the -Afghans. The railways which she is building have -in view only the convenience of the colonists, the -development of the colony, and trade with China. -Russia is slow out there, and she is laying the sound -foundations of a healthy and happy colonial country.</p> - -<p>II. <i>Rivalry of Empire.</i>—Whatever be the direct -issue of the war with Germany, one indirect result -seems certain: England will have more empire, -whilst Germany will have less, and Russia will not -lose anything. Two great empires will emerge more -clearly, facing one another because of the dispersal -of the German ambition. There seems to be only -one possibility of German extension, and that lies in -the chance of Germans and Austrians turning on -their own allies and absorbing Bulgaria and Turkey. -But that chance must be considered remote to-day. -The Russian and the British Empires will stand facing -one another in friendly comparison. The Russian -Empire is self-supporting, it has no need to import -the necessities of life—food, fuel, raiment; whereas -we could support ourselves, but do not, not having -reconciled our self-hostile commercial interests. For -many a long day Russia will export for British consumption<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> -corn, butter, eggs, sugar, wool, and wood, -to say nothing of other things. And when at last -we succeed in making our own Empire independent, -the Russians will eat their butter themselves and -there will be more white bread on the peasant’s -table. It will be no calamity for Russia.</p> - -<p>I was speaking on the future of the Russian -Empire at one of our leading Conservative clubs in -London last winter, and I was surprised to note a -very important feeling of opposition toward Russia. -Those who were interested in manufactures wanted -the tariff against British goods reduced, and those -who were Imperialist in spirit felt a certain jealousy -and suspicion of the Russian Empire. Several -speakers warned Russia that she had better give up -the dream of having Constantinople—it would be bad -for her health if she were to have it. But the most significant -utterance came from an ardent tariff reformer, -who did not know how far love of Russia was compatible -with love of the British Empire, for more -Russian grain coming to us meant less Canadian grain, -and so on. If we gave Russia any preferential treatment -as regards her exports to us, we handicapped -our own colonies. We ought to give our colonies preferential -terms, but how would the Russians feel if -we asked for reduced tariffs for the import of our -manufactured goods into Russia while at the same -time we put a tax on the produce they sent to us. -That problem is a serious one, and it cannot be -doubted that the best policy for us is to make ourselves -self-dependent as an Empire whatever it may<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span> -cost us in foreign favour. Russia must not misunderstand -our efforts to consolidate the Empire, and I do -not think she will. The diminution in our import -of food-stuffs from Russia will be gradual, and will be -made up partially by the increased import of other -things which Russia has in superabundance. Yet -even as regards ores and mineral products we have to -learn to be self-supporting. The war itself, which -shuts us off from Russia and throws us upon our own -resources, has sent us to our own colonies. We are -beginning to find in the Empire not only our food, -but also the raw materials required for our products. -Take, for instance, the case of asbestos. The only -first-class quality of asbestos in the world comes from -the Urals, and it is a product of great value industrially. -During the war it has been very difficult to -get it from Russia. The result has been that we -have found a very good though still inferior quality -in Rhodesia, and may quite conceivably obtain all our -best supplies from that colony in time, the lower -grades coming from Canada, which begins to have a -great output. But our tendency to be self-dependent -will tend to rid Russia of many exploiting foreign -companies, and for that the Russian people will be -thankful. They want to experience what gifts they -have for doing things for themselves.</p> - -<p>III. <i>The Trade Treaty.</i>—Russia will be so much -in debt to us financially at the end of the war that -there will be a tendency to regard her as an insolvent -liability company possessing valuable assets. Some of -our business men may want to treat her as such and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span> -appoint a trustee, so to say. There is a movement -to inflict upon Russia a trade treaty similar to that, -or even more humiliating than that which Germany -called upon her to sign. The bond of friendship with -Russia cannot be a commercial halter round her -neck. She would quickly resent foreign financial -control, no matter from what quarter it might be -exercised. Russia will be all but bankrupt after the -war, and all that she will have lost will have been lost -for the common cause. We should be generous to -her and see what can be done, not to tie her and -bind her industrially and financially, but for us all. -Russia herself is ready to make a kindly treaty providing -us with real advantages over Germany, but -she could not make a treaty whereby arrangements -would be made for the paying off of her financial -war debts to her allies.</p> - -<p>IV. <i>The Basis of Friendship.</i>—The basis of -friendship with Russia is not really trade, and no -provision needs to be made to make a trade basis. -We had plenty of trade with Germany or Germany -with us, and that did not make for friendship. On -the contrary, the question of trade and of haggling -over money is almost certain in the long run to lead -to estrangement, or, at least, mutual dis-esteem. -There has been a growing trade, but that has not -led to the growing friendship. Friendship has been -founded on real mutual admiration. We like the -Russians, and they like us. The positive side of -Russia profoundly interests us. Of course, we are -not vitally interested in the negative side, the rotten<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span> -conditions of life in certain classes, the faults of -Russia, the seamy side of the picture. We are -thoroughly aware of the ugliness of the negative side -of our own life, and we would ask—do not judge us -by that, that is not England. Similarly, in Russia -we are interested in beautiful and wonderful Russia, -in Holy Russia, not in unholy Russia. This positive -side is comparatively unrealised here, for gossip and -slander make more noise than truth, but in it is a -great treasure both for Russia and for ourselves in -friendship. On the whole the prospects are good.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">APPENDIX II<br /> - - -<small>THE RUSSIAN EMPIRE AND THE BRITISH EMPIRE</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE moment of peace will be the moment of -reconsideration. We shall want to know where -we all stand, and we shall want to face the facts—financially, -individually, imperially. We shall want -to know what we have got, what we owe, what sort -of empire we have to make or mar in the succeeding -years, what are its resources, what its possibilities, -and ours. One may remark, in passing, what very -good work is being done by the Confederation of the -Round Table.<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> The calculation is exercising many -patriotic British minds. First of all be it remarked, -in order to remove misconceptions, we British people -are not by any means the most numerous white -people. We have in our Empire something like -63 million whites, whereas Russia has at least 140 -million, Germany has 65 million, and the United -States have 82 million of mixed race. We compare -favourably with the United States because we are -homogeneous and much more calm in soul, and -favourably with Germany because she has no land -for expansion, though it must be remembered that if -Austria and Germany should unite, the Germans -would have almost as large a white population as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span> -Russia, and certainly a very much more active one. -There remains Russia, with its enormous population -and its astonishingly extensive territory. Russia has -ample room for ten times her present population, -and she has it at her back door, as it were. She -has no oceans to cross. The railway goes all the way -or can go all the way from Petrograd to the uttermost -ends of her earth. She has also calm, and can -develop without worry. As an empire, compared -with ours, she has tremendous advantages. Her -people are not impatient to be rich, the strain of -her race is not confused through foreign immigration, -she is shut off from mongrelising influences, -and tends to grow with pure blood and a clear understanding -of her own past and her own destiny. She -has less chance of making mistakes. And, as I have -said, her problems are much simpler. It is not -difficult to keep the stream of colonisation moving -into the emptiness of Asia when the railways are so -good as to carry one six thousand miles for thirteen -roubles, a little over a sovereign.</p> - -<p>Our younger politicians have got to decide what -they are working for—trade, or the Empire, or the -people, or the individual. They must affirm a larger -policy than has been affirmed heretofore, a world -policy, and they must not scorn the lessons which -Germany has taught them: the necessity to be -thorough, to have large conceptions, and to work for -the realisation of these large conceptions rather than -potter about doctoring the little-English constitution -here and giving a little funeral there. We teach our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span> -children a very foolish little proverb: that if we -look after the pence the pounds will look after themselves. -That is the opposite of the truth, which is, -that if we look after the pounds we need never worry -our heads about the pennies. If we nationalised our -ocean-transit, we should not need to insure our working -men against unemployment. If we scheduled the -enormous tracts of land available for culture in the -Empire, we should not need to wage war with the -landowners in Great Britain.</p> - -<p>Our present Colonial Minister, Mr. Bonar Law, -has risen to the front as the political leader of our -Conservative and Imperialist party. He does not -seem to love party strife, and he has, perhaps, found -a permanent post at the Colonial Office. He is the -next man of importance after Mr. Joseph Chamberlain, -and though by no means so great a man, he is -an admiring follower of the great Imperialist. Whatever -we may think of the merits of Free Trade and -Protection, Chamberlain was undoubtedly right in -his larger conception of a unified British Empire, a -<i>Zollverein</i>. And the Liberals who opposed him and -confused the issue were merely opportunists. They -were not concerned to find what they could agree -with in his proposals. They merely fought him to -beat him and step into his shoes politically. The -riff-raff of political opportunists set on him, and he -was forced to shed one of his great illusions, a trust -in the common sense of the people. Mr. Bonar Law -is his successor, and we wish him well. He might -well carry his office out of the arena of party politics<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span> -and sit at the Colonial Office whatever wind were -blowing. For Imperial Policy must have continuity -if it is to be successful.</p> - -<p>England must hope and pray that Mr. Law has -given up mere politics. We are thoroughly sick of -the bad-tempered quarrelling and malicious fighting -of the heads of the parties. Even a first-rate man -is ninth-rate when he is quarrelling, and a quarrel -among politicians is always a quarrel among ninth-rate -politicians. Political genius likes affirmation -and agreement. The task of Mr. Bonar Law is -to think about the Empire and gain consciousness -of its true destiny; it is not to think out -devices in political antagonism. As a nation we -demand he give his whole time and the cream of his -intellect to the positive task of giving to every citizen -of the Empire the consciousness of the large thing. -He will be attacked; curs will bark at him; the -Germans and German Jews will try and stir up the -uneducated against him; there will be all manner of -insinuations. But he need never reply or attempt to -defend himself. The nation and the Empire will -back him calmly. There is a splendid Russian tale -of a prince climbing a mountain to obtain a bird, and -all the stones behind him shout abuse after him. -He is safe on his quest on this condition only, that -he does not turn round and listen, or draw his sword -to attack. If he turn he will change to a stone himself. -The point is, we are going to be more in need -of great men once this war is over than we ever were -before—of great men with big ideas, faith that they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> -can be realised, and that calm of spirit which is the -greatest strength.</p> - -<p>If Mr. Bonar Law is not great enough, or if he’d -rather continue in the political arena, there is another -man for the post, and that is Lord Milner. Lord -Milner strikes one as the greater man. The Empire -is his one idea. He thinks largely—his imagination -takes him in vast sweeps over the surface of the -Empire. He has dignity, is a powerful speaker, and -a clear thinker on Imperial matters. His weakness -is a certain aloofness or reserve, an ambassadorial -manner, and one is not quite sure what is behind it. -Mr. Bonar Law, on the other hand, is unscreened; -he is familiar, even domestic in his manner. Probably -what Mr. Law has to guard against is doing -things in small parcels, doing branch things rather -than root things, whereas Lord Milner may give -offence occasionally by a lack of consideration for -other people’s feelings—want of tact, in fact. In any -case they are both men on whom the eyes of the -nation rest. Lord Milner has sent me an extremely -interesting letter which had been addressed to him -by a number of British citizens who have become lost -to the British Empire. By his kind permission I -reproduce it:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right"><span class="indentright">“<i>Open Letter to Lord Milner.</i></span><br /> -“<span class="smcap">Quincy, Mass.</span>, U.S.A.<br /> -<span class="indentright2">“<i>Dec. 15th, 1915.</i></span></p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Lord Milner</span>,—I have read with intense interest -the report of your speech appearing in <i>The Times</i><span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span> -Weekly Edition of Nov. 19th. You mentioned the -indifference of the working man to Imperial affairs. -I am a working man, and possibly my views on these -questions may be of some small interest to you. -When I speak of my views I mean that they also are -the views of other workers with whom I come in -contact. I mix daily with several dozen workers, -British born, and I assure you that the opinions here -expressed are the opinions of practically all.</p> - -<p>“We believe that right now a strong committee -should be formed to deal with Imperial reconstruction -after the war. This committee should have a well -thought out, clearly defined, and decisive policy to -put in operation the moment the war ends. We -believe that not less than half a million soldiers who -have fought in the war should be settled in Canada, -Australasia and U.S. Africa, and that an appropriation -of not less than one billion<a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[G]</a> pounds sterling -should be voted for the purpose. Canada is a land -of vast agricultural possibilities and great mineral -wealth. A small group of the best agricultural and -engineering experts in the Empire should be sent -over to make all necessary preparations for the coming -of the men. The exact location or locations where -they are to settle should be defined, lines of branch -railways should be surveyed, sites of model garden -cities, cement built, should be located, mining properties -surveyed, and the location of factories and -workshops should be decided upon. Nothing should -be left to chance. The gang ploughs, threshing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span> -machines, motor tractors, grain elevators, etc., should -be provided and run on the co-operative principle, and -the entire properties should belong to the nation. If -one-half the energy, foresight, and preparation used -in the war were used for the reconstruction, the scheme -is an assured success.</p> - -<p>“There are great irrigation and artesian possibilities -in S. Africa. Preparations should be made <i>now</i>. -Incidentally the intensely loyalist stock thus settled -would swamp the Hertzog party with their disruptive -ideals. In Australia very great possibilities await -irrigation. I have only to point out what has been -done in arid S. California and Arizona to prove this.</p> - -<p>“The British Empire heretofore has been more or -less imaginary; there has been nothing tangible about -it. Take my own case, for instance. I cite it merely -because it illustrates a principle. Seven years ago I -was in Scotland and unemployed. There were a -great many unemployed at the time. Those who had -no means were left to starve. Was anything done -for them? Absolutely nothing! All were British, -loved Britain, were able and willing to work, yet no -organisation was created to utilise their services. -Personally I came to the United States. I have done -better here than at home; had better pay, shorter -hours, better conditions. What is the British Empire -to us? Absolutely nothing; a mere sentiment. Yet -our feelings are British still, our sympathies are -British; but that is not enough. There must be -something tangible to go on, something <i>real</i>; sentiment -alone is no use. An Englishman here whom<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span> -I meet daily is a veteran of the S. African war. -When that war finished he was not allowed to settle -in S. Africa. At home he could not get work. -He was driven to want. He had to pawn his medal -to live, and finally was assisted to America. He has -done well here and has been steadily employed. But -he has been embittered, and his sentiment in his own -words is: ‘To hell with the British Empire.’ It is -an empty phrase to him, without meaning; and I tell -you, with all the earnestness of which I am capable, -that these things will mean the decline and fall of -the Empire if they do not stop. In the United -States there are several million British-born who are -lost to the Empire for ever. Their sentiments are -British, their sympathies are British, but their interests -are here, and interest becomes sentiment. -And observe that their children born here have <i>sentiment</i> -as well as interest for the land of their birth.</p> - -<p>“The British Empire is the largest in the world. -In natural resources it is the wealthiest. It could -support a population of hundreds of millions in a -high degree of prosperity. The British are an able -and intelligent people. The nation is rich. The -problem is to settle the people throughout the -Empire and develop its resources under the guidance -of experts, according to a well thought out and -definite plan. This plan wants to take shape now. -If the war were to suddenly end one year hence, and -an army of three million men disbanded, we would -(and will) be faced by industrial chaos. The problem -must be placed in the hands of experts, and be so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span> -clearly worked out that when peace is declared the -soldiers will be drafted without fuss to the various -parts of the Empire, and immediately tackle the -problems of city and railway building, agriculture -and irrigation, mining and manufacturing. And -these properties must be owned by the nation. -These measures will create a <i>real</i> Empire in which -every citizen will have a tangible interest. Each part -will legislate on its own domestic affairs, and the -Imperial Parliament, dealing with Imperial affairs -and representative of all the Dominions, will be held -in London. With such conditions you will find a -strong sentiment for Free Trade within the Empire -and Protection without, and also a strong desire for -that universal military training which will defend what -in very truth is one’s own. Start this programme at -once, and do it thoroughly, and you can be absolutely -certain of a solid and enthusiastic backing.—Believe -me, yours sincerely,</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Wm. C. Anderson</span>.”</p> -</div> - -<p>Under Mr. Anderson’s signature appeared the -signatures of forty-nine men, all British subjects once, -people of pure race and complete British traditions, -now “lost to the Empire.” The letter was endorsed -thus:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">J. C. Collingwood</span>, late of Glasgow, Scotland;</div> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">A. W. Coates</span>, late of York, England;</div> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">James J. Byrnes</span>, late of Dublin, Ireland;</div> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">T. Gibbons</span>, late of Newfoundland;</div> -</div></div> - -<p>and so on, a list far too long to quote here but -most impressive in its implication—“late of Great<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> -Britain, now and henceforth of the United States of -America.”</p> - -<p>I will add a letter sent to me from Tasmania, -for it will help to give the atmosphere of the -problem:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right"><span class="indentright3">“9 <span class="smcap">Garden Crescent,</span></span><br /> -<span class="smcap"><span class="indentright">“Hobart, Tasmania,</span></span><br /> -<span class="smcap">“Australia.</span><br /> -<span class="indentright2">“<i>Oct. 3rd, 1915.</i></span></p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,—I am just being interested in your -book, ‘Russia and the World.’ I read it because I -was delighted with your vagabond trip along the -Euxine shores. You deal with the problems of the -British Empire. Perhaps you might like to get a -view from ‘down under’? Well, I do not consider -in the matter of defence that a huge land empire has -advantages over a sea empire. Russia is to-day more -vulnerable than the British Empire. Let us suppose -the British Isles with a navy such as it possesses -to-day, with a million men ready for home defence, -and with an expeditionary force of 250,000 men—‘ready’ -at an hour’s notice to step into transports -also ready. Let us assume that two-years’ provision -of corn is stored, and a tunnel with France. Let us -also assume that every available rood of British -ground is cultivated. What country could invade and -conquer the British Isles? What country could keep -up a two-years’ naval war? Let us come to -Australia—grand in her isolation. We shall soon -have a quarter of a million of trained soldiers. We<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> -launched a new cruiser last week, and we are going -to build submarines. We can not only defend ourselves, -but we could supply garrisons for India. So -far as external aggression is concerned, South Africa -is safe. Canada is liable to attack from the -Americans, and in the course of time will be -attacked. If the British expeditionary army were -landed promptly, and Canada had our plan of compulsory -service, the Empire would be right there. -India is safe except from Russia.</p> - -<p>“Have we a weak spot as an Empire? Certainly -we have. England for three parts of a century has -allowed herself to be bled to death by the emigration -of her best youth to foreign countries. That ought -to be stopped. There should be an export tax of -£20 upon every emigrant to the United States or -other alien country. (Plain talk about U.S.A.) As -to the present ‘colonies’—hateful title—there are -but two British ones within the Empire—Australia -and New Zealand. The others have an undesirable -mixture of races. It should be a portion of the -Imperial policy to fill up Canada and South Africa -with British-born people. But such emigration must -be upon a system. Under a proper system we could -do with two millions of immigrants in Australia. -Suddenly dumped upon our wharves, 1,000 would be -an inconvenience. Your scheme of cheap ships is -admirable. When we build railways in Australia, -and provide water schemes, we do not consider -whether they will ‘pay,’ but whether they will -develop the country and add to the happiness of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span> -people. The best method of emigration is to dispatch -from the United Kingdom every year, say, -500,000 youths and girls from 15 years of age and -upwards. These would find homes <i>at low wages</i> in -settlers’ families in Canada, South Africa and Australia, -and would become acclimatised and absorbed -into the population. This emigration should be a -State scheme and <span class="allsmcap">COMPULSORY</span>. But the emigrants -should not be made slaves of. When their indentures -ended they should be allowed, if they wished, to -return to England in one of your ships free of charge. -I do not wish to enlarge upon the subject, but the -failures of adult English immigrants who come here -are pathetic. They cannot get along, neither would -we get along in England. The immigrant should be -captured young. This is the greatest problem of the -Empire:</p> - -<p>“(1) To fill up the Empire with loyal citizens of -pure British birth.</p> - -<p>“(2) In the cases of Canada and South Africa, -to send large numbers in order to neutralise the alien -elements now existing there. To stop foreign immigration -into British territories, especially German -immigration.</p> - -<p>“Upon the question of naturalisation we have -been too easy and indifferent. A man wishing to be -naturalised should make a solemn application in -<i>propria persona</i> before a court. He should be under -the obligation to abjure his foreign nationality and -to take a British name. We have now our directories -crowded with foreign names, which through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span> -generations of intermarriages have lost their original -national significance.</p> - -<p>“I note that you compare our culture with that -of America. Thanks! No two countries could be -more dissimilar—there is not amongst us the greed, -the wild rush, or the boastfulness of the Americans. -We do not like them. While we are on comparisons, -let me remind you that while you have failed to -adjust your Irish question, we have federated Australia, -a task of no small difficulty. While you have -been talking and spilling ink about conscription, we -have a system of compulsory training, both for the -army and the navy, in full operation. While you -allow strikes in the midst of war, our difficulties are -being settled by wages boards and arbitration courts. -We are not perfect, but our Press is much superior -in tone and culture to yours. It is painful to read -some of your Yankeeised London papers. In literature -we have given you Mrs. Humphry Ward, -though to learn new sins we read the indecent novels -which appear to be the chief product of British fiction. -And we have given the world—Melba!</p> - -<p>“As to our share of the war. I walked down-street -in Hobart yesterday to take a ‘billy’—pity -your simplicity if you do not know what that is—to -the City Hall. It was filled with all sorts of good -things for our boys at Gallipoli for Christmas. Outside -the newspaper office I read the cable, another -ghastly list of Australian casualties. Were they -necessary? Could not the Turks have been outflanked -and their communications cut? When I reached<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span> -home my wife and her friend were knitting socks for -the soldiers. The lady friend mentioned, be it correct -or not, that a ship that declined to carry troops—the -<i>Wimmera</i>, New Zealand to Melbourne—was -taken possession of and forced to take the men. The -streets are full of soldiers ready to sail, and, alas, -with many returned from the war crippled for life. -And such splendid young men. What an improved -edition of the British race the Australians are!</p> - -<p>“Enough from stranger to stranger, but as your -book seems to indicate gleams of intelligence on your -part, and as it interested me, I am humbly—as a -native-born Australian now close approaching the -Psalmist’s limit—endeavouring to repay the compliment.—Yours -truly,</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">William Crooke</span>.”</p> -</div> - -<p>And Mr. Crooke enclosed a poem on the launching -of H.M.S. <i>Brisbane</i> at the naval dockyard at -Cockatoo Island:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Another link in the steel-strong chain which holds us heart to heart,</div> -<div class="verse">Another pledge to the old, old vow which swears we’ll never part;</div> -<div class="verse">While life doth last and love doth last we’ll give thee of our own—</div> -<div class="verse">Dear Motherland, accept this gift we lay before thy throne.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Forged in the heat of a southern sun, framed ’neath an Austral sky,</div> -<div class="verse">Worthy indeed this ship shall be to float thy flag on high.</div> -<div class="verse">Fanned by the breath of a South Sea breeze, kissed by the foam-flecked spray,</div> -<div class="verse">Did ever a child of War awake as this one wakes to-day?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span> -<div class="verse">We bargain not in windy words, and not in idle boast,</div> -<div class="verse">We speed her sliding down the slip, and make her name a toast.</div> -<div class="verse">Remember ye that gaunt, grey wreck on Cocos’ barren rocks [<i>Emden</i>],</div> -<div class="verse">Where seagulls pick the whitened bones around the old sea-fox.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Another link in the steel-strong chain which holds us heart to heart,</div> -<div class="verse">Another hound slipped from the leash to play a winning part;</div> -<div class="verse">Her flag is broken to the wind, her steel has met the sea—</div> -<div class="verse">Dear Motherland, accept the gift we give this day to thee.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>The letters indicate something of the spirit of our -people, and they more than touch on the “after-the-war” -problems of the Empire. Both indicate the -way we lose our citizens to the United States of -America. And it is, of course, loss to the Empire -whenever an Englishman settles in the U.S.A. Our -social interchange with the United States is a snare -for us. The gleam of their dollars is the Star-spangled -Banner, and not the Union Jack. We do not see -that, although the Americans speak a recognisable -dialect of our language, they are a foreign people, -with their own national interests. When a man or -woman goes there to settle he is lost to us, and if in -the great unrest after the war a great number of our -young people set sail for “God’s own country,” it -will mean that we can add the numbers of those -young people to the total of our casualties. That -is clear.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>Then we cannot afford to imitate the ways of the -U.S.A. The U.S.A. receive the discontented and -rebellious of all nations in Europe—it is Europe’s -safety-valve. Our Irish go there, German anti-militarists, -Russian Jews and Finns, Austrian Slavs and -what not. The nature of the United States is composite -and its task is synthesis. The nature of our Empire -is elementary and its task is to keep pure. Canada -has made a mistake in opening its doors to aliens, -and especially to those aliens who would stand a poor -chance of passing the tests at Ellis Island. Canada -behaves as if it were left behind in the struggle by -America, as if she had been asleep in the past and -was now making up for lost ground by any and every -means. She is virtually accepting those aliens whom -the U.S.A. consider not good enough to take. -Through the help of Tolstoy and the Quakers the -Dukhobors were dumped down on Canadian soil. -They have refused to become naturalised British subjects, -and have sacrificed estates to the value of over -three million dollars—“in the name of the equality of -all people upon earth we would not be naturalised, -and we sacrificed this material fortune.” They -learn no English, conform to no English rules, -nourish no English sentiments, are lost to Russia, -and are no use to us. The same may be said of the -hundreds of thousands of other aliens we are letting -in. It should be obvious that to lose British-born -citizens, our own spirit, flesh and blood, in the United -States, and at the same time to take those aliens -who cannot pass the doctor and the immigration<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span> -examination at New York, is a woeful and even -ridiculous circumstance.</p> - -<p>After the war America will be extremely rich and -we extremely poor. She will be in a position to buy -everything that is offered for sale. We must take -care not to offer birthrights in any shape or form. -That which we can legitimately sell let us sell, but -that which is in the nature of an heirloom of the -British people let us not be tempted to sell, no matter -how high the mountain of dollars be piled on the -American shore or how dazzlingly it may shine in -the sunshine. I say this with no malice against the -American people. They are a splendid people, and -they are working out their own ideals. They are -carrying out their ideals of town-planning, marriage-planning, -slum-raising, park-planting, wages-raising -beyond anything we dream of here. When I wrote -in my book on America that we British were the -dying West whereas America was the truly living -West, I was taken up by British critics as if I had -said something very disparaging about my own -people. That was a mistake. I do not desire to see -my own people a Western people, such as the -Americans are, but rather a nation seated between -the East and the West. Some of us fondly think -ourselves Western in our ideals, but the fact is the -Americans have left us far behind, and we can never -catch up because we do not really believe in these -ideals. But we can gain immensely by seeing America -<i>go ahead</i>. Let us shake hands with America; she is -splendid. God speed! Go on, work out your ideals,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span> -let us see you as you wish to be. Meanwhile we will -go on with our own problems and the realisation of -our own ideals.</p> - -<p>With America on the West then also with Russia -on the East—shake hands! Thanks to Russia, and -God be with her also. Let her realise her ideals -and discover what she is; we shall learn from the -spectacle of her self-realisation. And meanwhile we -will go on with our own problems and the realisation -of our own ideals.</p> - -<p>We who write about foreign countries are the -torch-bearers to foreign progress and the means of -foreign friendship. We render good service, and if -our light shine well and show clear pictures it is -unfair to reproach us with a wish to Russianise or -Americanise or whatever it is. Our function is a -legitimate one, and, far from confusing or alienating -our readers, our hearts are actually with our own -nation and we help our fellow-countrymen to see -themselves as quite distinctive. Our minds certainly -are confused by the writings and sayings of those -stay-at-home folk who imagine that difference of -nationality is only difference of speech and customs, -and perhaps of dress, not understanding that first of -all it is difference of soul and difference in destiny.</p> - -<p>To return to the comparison of the two Empires -and the consideration of the colonial letters, Mr. -Anderson asks for an Imperial Commission to consider -the “after-the-war” problems, and in conversation -with Mr. Bonar Law I learn that such a -Commission is to sit, and there is the possibility of an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span> -Imperial Parliament being formed. This ought to be -taken up warmly by our people at home. I also -discussed with Mr. Law the prospects of emigration -after the war. There is a great unrest in the Army. -Great numbers of men have one common opinion -that they are not going to return to the old dull grind -in factory and office after the war is over. They are -going in for an open-air life, going to Canada, going -to Australia, or going to take up land at home in -Great Britain. The Canadians and Australians have -served their home lands well by telling the men at -home what it is like in the far parts of the Empire. -Our men have a genuine admiration for the physique -of our Colonials. The fine bodies and good spirits of -these men speak for themselves, and then they are -full of talk of a rich country, beautiful Nature, wildness, -big chances, prosperity. It is no wonder that -the Englishman wants to go there also when the war -is over. There will be a great readiness to go. The -question is what facilities will be given them to go? -How much will it cost and how much land will they -be given, and what status will they have within the -Empire? Mr. Law was not inclined to give much -answer to that, and he reminded me that we wanted -to get some more men back to the land in our own -country. The back-to-the-land movement here is, -however, of little importance if we are going to look -upon the whole Empire as a British unity and feel -that a man on the land in Australia can be of more -significance than a man on the land in Essex.</p> - -<p>I asked Mr. Bonar Law whether he thought that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span> -our manufacturers here would be dismayed at the -prospect of so many young men going to the -Colonies, would they not oppose facilities being -given? Would they not feel that it was necessary to -keep the labour market overflowing with labour in -order to keep labour cheap? In any case, would they -not feel they needed to keep the men in England? -The foundation of personal wealth is a plenitude of -labour. The more hands employed, the richer the -man at the top. Mr. Law did not think they were -likely to raise objections.</p> - -<p>The overcrowding in the United Kingdom is -much greater than in France or Germany or Italy. -India is also terribly over-crowded, but Canada and -Australia and South Africa are practically empty. -The only nation that occupies the correct amount of -land proportional to its population is China. Russia -has double the territory of China, and something like -a third of the total population. And, thanks to -cheap railway fares, the Russian population spreads -quietly and naturally. After the war we must -nationalise a steamship service for the use of British -subjects only, and make it possible to travel anywhere -in the Empire for a pound or so, paying for food -according to a normal tariff. We must give emigrants -privileges in our own Colonies that they would not -obtain in the United States. We must set up big -Imperial works, and spend time and money in -development. We must not relax our rule of the -seas, but go on building an ever better, ever more -efficient Navy, and not underman it. We must live<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> -even more on the sea than we have done in the past, -for the seas are our high roads, the connecting links -of Empire. We must get out of the foolish habit of -thinking of Canada and Australia and South Africa -as terribly far away. It is a little world, and there -is scarcely a far-away in it. We have to give to our -working men, and to their children in the schools, the -consciousness of belonging to a big and glorious thing -rather than the consciousness of belonging to a little -State that is almost played out. Let us think of -Russia with her bigness, her space, her consciousness -of unity, and of the large thing, and remember we -have all the possibilities of health and splendour that -the Russians have if we will only face our problems -and do the things which are obvious to all except -to those who fight in the political arena for fighting’s -sake.</p> - -<p>To recapitulate:</p> - -<p>(1) Russia has at least double the white population -in her Empire that we have in ours. Why -should we not take steps to transplant from over-crowded -Britain to the less crowded parts of the -Empire, and so get better families?</p> - -<p>(2) The Russian Empire is all on land, and is -easily strung together by railways, whereas our -Empire is across seas. Fares within the Russian -Empire are cheap. Why should we not popularise -our ocean travel and have cheap fares on the seas?</p> - -<p>(3) Russia, through certain natural advantages, -keeps her race pure, even on the outskirts of Empire. -Why should we let our own people go to the United<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span> -States, and try to fill up our Colonies with aliens -who, in time of war, are ready to blow up Parliament -buildings, powder factories, plot assassinations, -and what not?</p> - -<p>(4) Russia is self-supporting in food, fuel, and -clothing. Why should not we be?</p> - -<p>(5) The Duma is elected by the people not only -of Russia in Europe, but by the people of the whole -Russian Empire. Why should not we have Imperial -representatives in the House of Commons—one man -one vote for all white British citizens.</p> - -<p>(6) The Russian Empire is a large unity with a -growing consciousness of its own power. Why should -not the British Empire realise similar possibilities of -unity and self-expression?</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_map.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="caption">RUSSIAN CENTRAL ASIA.<br /> - -<span class="smcap">Map shewing Traveller’s Route.</span></p> - - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">Index</h2> -</div> - - -<p> -A<br /> -<br /> -Abakum, Pass and Gorge of, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>-<a href="#Page_187">7</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">advertisements in, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Africa taken by Attila, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> -<br /> -Agriculturists, emigration of, <a href="#Page_138">138</a><br /> -<br /> -Alabaster Mosque, Cairo, <a href="#Page_40">40</a><br /> -<br /> -Alai Tau Mountains, <a href="#Page_90">90</a><br /> -<br /> -Alakul, Lake, <a href="#Page_149">149</a><br /> -<br /> -Alani, the, <a href="#Page_47">47</a><br /> -<br /> -Alexander of Macedon, <a href="#Page_56">56</a><br /> -<br /> -Alexander the Great, <a href="#Page_44">44</a><br /> -<br /> -Alexandrovsky Mountains, <a href="#Page_90">90</a><br /> -<br /> -Altai, Central, <a href="#Page_218">218</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Altai, flora of, <a href="#Page_229">229</a><br /> -<br /> -Altai Mountains, the, <a href="#Page_8">8</a><br /> -<br /> -Altaiskaya, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>, <a href="#Page_229">229</a><br /> -<br /> -Altin-Emel, Government aid to emigrants, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">the cross-roads for China, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_174">174</a></span><br /> -<br /> -America—after the war, <a href="#Page_265">265</a><br /> -<br /> -Amu-Darya, <a href="#Page_24">24</a><br /> -<br /> -Anderson, Wm. C., an open letter to Lord Milner, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>-<a href="#Page_257">7</a><br /> -<br /> -Anglo-Russian friendship, prospects of, <a href="#Page_237">237</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Antonovka, <a href="#Page_94">94</a><br /> -<br /> -Ants, ravages of, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>-<a href="#Page_130">130</a><br /> -<br /> -Apples, the City of. (<i>See</i> Verney)<br /> -<br /> -Arabs and Semitic tribes, conquests of, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> -<br /> -Arazan, dinner at, <a href="#Page_184">184</a><br /> -<br /> -Arbitration courts, <a href="#Page_261">261</a><br /> -<br /> -Arizona, <a href="#Page_255">255</a><br /> -<br /> -Artisans, emigration of, <a href="#Page_140">140</a><br /> -<br /> -Asbestos, the question of supply of, <a href="#Page_246">246</a><br /> -<br /> -Ascension Day, the Russian, <a href="#Page_99">99</a><br /> -<br /> -Asia, a former frontier of, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">the deserts of, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Askhabad, the railway station, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">fall of, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">extension of Central Asian Railway to, <a href="#Page_68">68</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Astrakhan, fall of, <a href="#Page_64">64</a><br /> -<br /> -Attila, Huns of, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">conquests of, <a href="#Page_48">48</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Aulie Ata, captured by Russians, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">a mysterious city, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a former Moslem shrine, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the native orchestra, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">its cathedral, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">sheep as payment, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">frequency of earthquakes in, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">population of, <a href="#Page_123">123</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Australia, irrigation possibilities in, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">railway system of, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">military service compulsory in, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">federation of, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the Press of, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></span><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -B<br /> -<br /> -Bactrain labourers, <a href="#Page_19">19</a><br /> -<br /> -Baku, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">the bazaar, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the harbour, <a href="#Page_12">12</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Balkan war: the St. James’s Conference, <a href="#Page_213">213</a><br /> -<br /> -Balkans, the, <a href="#Page_18">18</a><br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span> -Balkhash, Lake, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a><br /> -<br /> -Balta, <a href="#Page_3">3</a><br /> -<br /> -Baltic, islands of, conquered by Attila, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> -<br /> -Barber, a Sart, <a href="#Page_181">181</a><br /> -<br /> -Barber-photographer, a, <a href="#Page_97">97</a><br /> -<br /> -Baskau, River, <a href="#Page_189">189</a><br /> -<br /> -Beaconsfield, Lord, and the “keys of India,” <a href="#Page_237">237</a><br /> -<br /> -Belukha, Mount, <a href="#Page_228">228</a><br /> -<br /> -Bibi Khanum, wife of Tamerlane the Great, <a href="#Page_51">51</a><br /> -<br /> -Bielovodsk, <a href="#Page_122">122</a><br /> -<br /> -Blagoveshtchensk, Siberians <i>versus</i> Chinese, <a href="#Page_171">171</a><br /> -<br /> -Bobrovo, <a href="#Page_229">229</a><br /> -<br /> -Bokhara, Ancient and New, <a href="#Page_27">27</a><br /> -<br /> -Bokhara, Russian Protectorate of, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">absence of hotels in, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">scenes in, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a Mohammedan settlement in, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">houses, shops, and bazaars of, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">its silver coinage, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the sacred stork of, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Russia’s hold on, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">power of Mohammedanism in, <a href="#Page_35">35</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Uzbeks in, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the Central Asian Railway and, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Bokharese, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>-<a href="#Page_32">2</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">and the battle of Irdzhar, <a href="#Page_65">65</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Bokharese delight, <a href="#Page_29">29</a><br /> -<br /> -Boxer insurrection, the, <a href="#Page_171">171</a><br /> -<br /> -Bozhe-Narimsky, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Brisbane</i>, the, a poem on launch of, <a href="#Page_262">262</a>-<a href="#Page_263">3</a><br /> -<br /> -British Empire, the, necessity for consolidation of, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>-<a href="#Page_246">6</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">white population in, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">after-the-war problems, <a href="#Page_249">249</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">and the Russian Empire, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>-<a href="#Page_270">270</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">expert development of resources necessary, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a Tasmanian view of future problems of, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>-<a href="#Page_262">262</a></span><br /> -<br /> -British Isles, the, after the war, <a href="#Page_265">265</a><br /> -<br /> -Buddhism, attempted introduction of, into Central Asia, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> -<br /> -Bulgaria, alienation of, by Britain, <a href="#Page_213">213</a><br /> -<br /> -Burnaby’s “Ride to Khiva,” <a href="#Page_239">239</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -C<br /> -<br /> -Cabbage pies, <a href="#Page_8">8</a><br /> -<br /> -Cairo, <a href="#Page_40">40</a><br /> -<br /> -California, <a href="#Page_255">255</a><br /> -<br /> -Camel-breeding, Kirghiz women and, <a href="#Page_219">219</a><br /> -<br /> -Canada, comparison with Siberia, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>-<a href="#Page_209">9</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">suggested after-the-war measures for, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">aliens in, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Carlyle, Thomas: “Heroes and Hero-Worship,” <a href="#Page_37">37</a>-<a href="#Page_39">9</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">his pro-Russian proclivities, <a href="#Page_239">239</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Carpet-making in Transcaspia, <a href="#Page_33">33</a><br /> -<br /> -Caspian Sea, the, <a href="#Page_10">10</a><br /> -<br /> -Caucasians, author’s impression of, <a href="#Page_5">5</a><br /> -<br /> -Caucasus, the, future development of, <a href="#Page_5">5</a><br /> -<br /> -Central Asia, ethnology and, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">races of, <a href="#Page_44">44</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Chinese attempt the introduction of Buddhism, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Central Asian Railway, building of, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">consecration of, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></span><br /> -<br /> -<i>Cervus canadensis asiaticus.</i> (<i>See</i> Maral)<br /> -<br /> -Chamberlain, Rt. Hon. Joseph, <a href="#Page_251">251</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Charchafs</i>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a><br /> -<br /> -Chardzhui, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">extension of Central Asian Railway to, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></span><br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span> -Cheesecakes, sweet, <a href="#Page_8">8</a><br /> -<br /> -Cherkask, <a href="#Page_197">197</a><br /> -<br /> -Chimkent, Russian capture of, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">the cinema at, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the bazaar, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">population of, <a href="#Page_123">123</a></span><br /> -<br /> -China attacked by the Huns, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>-<a href="#Page_46">6</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">the Great Wall of, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Russians in, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the Boxer insurrection, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">land proportional to population in, <a href="#Page_268">268</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Chinatown, New York, <a href="#Page_26">26</a><br /> -<br /> -Chinawomen and maral horn, <a href="#Page_220">220</a><br /> -<br /> -Chinese, altruistic, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">a native circus, <a href="#Page_176">176</a> <i>et seq.</i></span><br /> -<br /> -Chinese Tartary, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">Mohammedans, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Chingildinsky, <a href="#Page_165">165</a><br /> -<br /> -Chingiz Khan, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>-<a href="#Page_50">50</a><br /> -<br /> -Christianity <i>versus</i> Mohammedanism, <a href="#Page_37">37</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Chugachak, <a href="#Page_182">182</a><br /> -<br /> -Churek-cakes, <a href="#Page_29">29</a><br /> -<br /> -Cinema theatres, popularity of, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a><br /> -<br /> -Colonial preference, question of, <a href="#Page_245">245</a><br /> -<br /> -Colonials, British admiration for, <a href="#Page_267">267</a><br /> -<br /> -“Commonwealth, Prospect of a,” <a href="#Page_249">249</a> (note)<br /> -<br /> -Confederation of the Round Table, the, <a href="#Page_249">249</a><br /> -<br /> -Constantinople, Germany and, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">Dostoieffsky on, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">and the Great War, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Constantinovka, <a href="#Page_132">132</a><br /> -<br /> -Cornucula, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> -<br /> -Cotton goods, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>-<a href="#Page_207">7</a><br /> -<br /> -Crooke, William, letter to author, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>-<a href="#Page_262">262</a><br /> -<br /> -Curzon, Earl, <a href="#Page_237">237</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -D<br /> -<br /> -Danchenko, Namirovitch, on Russian conquest of India, <a href="#Page_238">238</a><br /> -<br /> -Dariel, Gorge of, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">the “Kremlin” of, <a href="#Page_7">7</a></span><br /> -<br /> -De Vesselitsky, M., <a href="#Page_208">208</a><br /> -<br /> -Deer-farming, <a href="#Page_219">219</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Dengil-Tepe taken by Kuropatkin, <a href="#Page_65">65</a><br /> -<br /> -Denmark, conquest of, by Attila, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Derevnyi</i>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a><br /> -<br /> -Desert, the, railways in, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">wheatfields in, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">antiquity of, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">its flora, <a href="#Page_20">20</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Dockers, Persian, <a href="#Page_12">12</a><br /> -<br /> -Dolinadalin, <a href="#Page_3">3</a><br /> -<br /> -Dostoieffsky, Fedor, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">on Russia’s demand for Constantinople, <a href="#Page_242">242</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Dukhobors in Canada, <a href="#Page_264">264</a><br /> -<br /> -Duncani, the, <a href="#Page_36">36</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Dunkan</i>, a, <a href="#Page_120">120</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -E<br /> -<br /> -Earthquakes, frequency of, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a><br /> -<br /> -Egypt, the shepherd dynasty of, <a href="#Page_44">44</a><br /> -<br /> -Electricity, a Caucasian contract for, <a href="#Page_4">4</a><br /> -<br /> -Emigrants, house-building by, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>-<a href="#Page_154">4</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">a suggested export tax on, <a href="#Page_259">259</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Emigration, compulsory, <a href="#Page_260">260</a><br /> -<br /> -Emigration, Russian, <a href="#Page_138">138</a> <i>et seq.</i>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">inducements for, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">restrictions concerning, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">concessions on rail and steamer, <a href="#Page_144">144</a> <i>et seq.</i></span><br /> -<br /> -England and India, <a href="#Page_241">241</a><br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span> -England and Russia: the question of India, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>-<a href="#Page_244">4</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">rivalry of empire, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>-<a href="#Page_246">6</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the trade treaty, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>-<a href="#Page_247">7</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the basis of friendship, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>-<a href="#Page_248">8</a></span><br /> -<br /> -English, uneasiness of, at Russian progress, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a><br /> -<br /> -Ethnology and Central Asia, <a href="#Page_44">44</a><br /> -<br /> -Europe, after-the-war prospects of, <a href="#Page_249">249</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -F<br /> -<br /> -Factory hands, emigration of, <a href="#Page_140">140</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Falanga</i>, hairy-legged, <a href="#Page_116">116</a><br /> -<br /> -Falconry, the Kirghiz knowledge of, <a href="#Page_200">200</a><br /> -<br /> -Falcons in Bokhara, <a href="#Page_29">29</a><br /> -<br /> -Fatalism, Mohammedanism and, <a href="#Page_42">42</a><br /> -<br /> -Ferghan, grants in aid of emigration to, <a href="#Page_152">152</a><br /> -<br /> -Flint-hunting in the Caucasus, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_6">6</a><br /> -<br /> -Fortoug, <a href="#Page_3">3</a><br /> -<br /> -Froude as pro-Russian, <a href="#Page_239">239</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -G<br /> -<br /> -Gavrilovka, <a href="#Page_175">175</a><br /> -<br /> -Geok-Tepe, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">the railway station of, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">storming of, <a href="#Page_68">68</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Georgians, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_16">16</a><br /> -<br /> -Germany, conquered by Attila, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">preparations for Great War in, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">an enemy of Anglo-Russian friendship, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">and Constantinople, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">white population in, <a href="#Page_249">249</a></span><br /> -<br /> -<i>Gimnasistki</i>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a><br /> -<br /> -Gladstone, Right Hon, W. E., a pro-Russian, <a href="#Page_239">239</a><br /> -<br /> -Goths, the, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> -<br /> -Great War, the, Germany’s ambitions, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">reception of news of declaration of war at Semipalatinsk, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Germany’s preparations for, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">England’s unpreparedness for, <a href="#Page_231">231</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Gregoriefsky, <a href="#Page_197">197</a><br /> -<br /> -Grosnoe, <a href="#Page_99">99</a><br /> -<br /> -Grozdny, <a href="#Page_10">10</a><br /> -<br /> -Gusinaya Pristan, <a href="#Page_216">216</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -H<br /> -<br /> -Hassan, Sultan, Mosque of, <a href="#Page_40">40</a><br /> -<br /> -Havana cigars in Kopal, <a href="#Page_182">182</a><br /> -<br /> -Huns, the, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a> <i>et seq.</i>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">of Attila, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Mongolian, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></span><br /> -<br /> -<i>Hydrotechnics</i>, Russian, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -I<br /> -<br /> -Ikons, Russian, <a href="#Page_10">10</a><br /> -<br /> -Ili, River, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a><br /> -<br /> -Ili, valley of the, <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /> -<br /> -Iliisk, <a href="#Page_163">163</a><br /> -<br /> -Imperial commission for after-the-war problems, an, <a href="#Page_266">266</a><br /> -<br /> -Ince-Agatch, <a href="#Page_204">204</a><br /> -<br /> -India and Russia, <a href="#Page_237">237</a> <i>et seq.</i>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">Namirovitch Danchenko on Russian conquest of, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">fear of Russian designs on, by British politicians, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>-<a href="#Page_242">2</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the overland route to, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">overcrowding in, <a href="#Page_268">268</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Indian frontier, the, <a href="#Page_8">8</a><br /> -<br /> -Indians, the, <a href="#Page_44">44</a><br /> -<br /> -Irdzhar, battle of, <a href="#Page_65">65</a><br /> -<br /> -Irrigation, artificial, in the desert, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">engineering students, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a> <i>et seq.</i></span><br /> -<br /> -Irtish River, <a href="#Page_211">211</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Issik-Kul, Lake, <a href="#Page_149">149</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span> -J<br /> -<br /> -Jaiman Terekti, <a href="#Page_189">189</a><br /> -<br /> -Jangiz-Agatch, <a href="#Page_175">175</a><br /> -<br /> -Jarasai, <a href="#Page_160">160</a><br /> -<br /> -Jarkent, a jurisdiction of Seven Rivers Province, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">rice-growing in, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Government aid to emigrants to, <a href="#Page_150">150</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Jerakhof, Gorge of, <a href="#Page_3">3</a><br /> -<br /> -“Jericho, trumpets of,” <a href="#Page_106">106</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -K<br /> -<br /> -Kabul Sai, <a href="#Page_74">74</a><br /> -<br /> -Kalmeeks, the, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a><br /> -<br /> -Karabulak, <a href="#Page_175">175</a><br /> -<br /> -Karachok, <a href="#Page_168">168</a><br /> -<br /> -Karakirghiz, the, <a href="#Page_63">63</a><br /> -<br /> -Kara-Kum, desert of, <a href="#Page_24">24</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Karakurt</i>, the, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /> -<br /> -Karasbi, <a href="#Page_160">160</a><br /> -<br /> -Katun-Karagai, <a href="#Page_220">220</a><br /> -<br /> -Kaufmann, General von, <a href="#Page_62">62</a><br /> -<br /> -Kazan, fall of, <a href="#Page_64">64</a><br /> -<br /> -Kazanskaya Bogoroditsa, <a href="#Page_132">132</a><br /> -<br /> -Kazbek mountain and Prometheus, <a href="#Page_7">7</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Khalati</i>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Khodoki</i>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a><br /> -<br /> -Khodzkent captured by Russians, <a href="#Page_65">65</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Khosaïn Tereka</i>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a><br /> -<br /> -Khiva, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">Uzbeks in, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">under Russian protection, <a href="#Page_66">66</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Kief, University of, student life at, <a href="#Page_125">125</a><br /> -<br /> -Kinglake: his pro-Russian sympathies, <a href="#Page_239">239</a><br /> -<br /> -Kirghiz, the, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a> <i>et seq.</i>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">become Russian subjects, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">their system of <i>pecunia</i>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">skill at falconry, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">relieved of military service, <a href="#Page_208">208</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Kirghiz Cossacks, the, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>-<a href="#Page_64">4</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">women, description of, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>-<a href="#Page_84">4</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">wedding, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">banquet, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">women and camel-breeding, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Kizil Arvat, <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> -<br /> -Kok-sa River, <a href="#Page_175">175</a><br /> -<br /> -Kokand, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">Uzbeks of, defeated by Russians, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Kopal, population of, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">a jurisdiction of Seven Rivers Province, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a walk to, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">author’s arrival at, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a quaint clock at, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">visit to a Chinese circus, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>-<a href="#Page_181">181</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">altruistic Chinamen, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">boundary of, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">facilities to sportsmen, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Koran, the, Carlyle and, <a href="#Page_41">41</a><br /> -<br /> -Kosh Agatch, <a href="#Page_218">218</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Kosuli</i>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a><br /> -<br /> -Koumis, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a><br /> -<br /> -Krasnovodsk, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a> <i>et seq.</i>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">a Georgian host in, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">siege of, <a href="#Page_65">65</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Kruglenkoe, <a href="#Page_174">174</a><br /> -<br /> -Kuan-Kuza, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a><br /> -<br /> -Kugalinskaya, <a href="#Page_174">174</a><br /> -<br /> -Kugalinskaya Stanitsa, <a href="#Page_174">174</a><br /> -<br /> -Kurdai, <a href="#Page_132">132</a><br /> -<br /> -Kuropatkin, Colonel, <a href="#Page_65">65</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Kursistki</i>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -L<br /> -<br /> -Labour question in England, the, <a href="#Page_268">268</a><br /> -<br /> -Larse, a night at an inn, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>-<a href="#Page_5">5</a><br /> -<br /> -Lava-Khedei, mosque of, <a href="#Page_34">34</a><br /> -<br /> -Law, Mr. Bonar, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>-<a href="#Page_253">3</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a><br /> -<br /> -Lepers, <a href="#Page_129">129</a><br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span> -<i>Lepeshki</i>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a><br /> -<br /> -Lepsa, the, <a href="#Page_203">203</a><br /> -<br /> -Lepsinsk, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">“removal” of, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the information bureau, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a Cossack settlement, <a href="#Page_196">196</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Lermontof’s “Demon”: scene of story of, <a href="#Page_6">6</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Lessovaya zemlya</i>, the, <a href="#Page_20">20</a><br /> -<br /> -Liamin, M., <a href="#Page_165">165</a>-<a href="#Page_172">172</a><br /> -<br /> -Lignitz, battle of, <a href="#Page_50">50</a><br /> -<br /> -Linbovinskaya, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a><br /> -<br /> -Lodz: its production of shoddy cotton, <a href="#Page_206">206</a><br /> -<br /> -“Lodzinsky,” definition of, <a href="#Page_206">206</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Ludzon</i>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -M<br /> -<br /> -Mahomet, birth of, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> -<br /> -Malo-Krasnoyarsk, <a href="#Page_218">218</a><br /> -<br /> -Maly Narimsky, <a href="#Page_220">220</a><br /> -<br /> -Mankent, <a href="#Page_92">92</a><br /> -<br /> -Maral, the country of the, <a href="#Page_218">218</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Maral deer horns, <a href="#Page_219">219</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -<i>Maralnik</i>, cost of construction of a, <a href="#Page_223">223</a><br /> -<br /> -Mare’s milk. (<i>See</i> Koumis)<br /> -<br /> -Marlowe on Tamerlane the Great, <a href="#Page_52">52</a><br /> -<br /> -Mecca, Mohammedan pilgrimages to, <a href="#Page_36">36</a><br /> -<br /> -Medvedka, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">a maral farm at, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Melba, Madame, <a href="#Page_261">261</a><br /> -<br /> -Merke, <a href="#Page_117">117</a><br /> -<br /> -Merv, fall of, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">Central Asian Railway extended to, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">annexation of, England’s attitude on, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Mesopotamia, a holy war in, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> -<br /> -“Midsummer Night among the tent-dwellers,” <a href="#Page_184">184</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Milner, Lord, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">an open letter to, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>-<a href="#Page_257">7</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Mogul. (<i>See</i> Mongol)<br /> -<br /> -Mohammedanism and Mohammedan cities, <a href="#Page_35">35</a> <i>et seq.</i>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">Mecca pilgrimages, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Cairo, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the Koran, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">fatalism and, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">characteristics of, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>-<a href="#Page_43">3</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">birth of Mahomet, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>.</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">(<i>See also</i> Bokhara)</span><br /> -<br /> -Mongolia, Russians in, <a href="#Page_70">70</a><br /> -<br /> -Mongolian brick tea, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">Huns, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Mongols, the, <a href="#Page_47">47</a><br /> -<br /> -Moslem pilgrimages to Mecca, <a href="#Page_36">36</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -N<br /> -<br /> -Narimsky Mountains, <a href="#Page_218">218</a><br /> -<br /> -Naturalisation, the question of, <a href="#Page_260">260</a><br /> -<br /> -Navy, the, necessity for increasing, <a href="#Page_268">268</a><br /> -<br /> -Nazimof, M., <a href="#Page_126">126</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Nevsky, Alexander, <a href="#Page_63">63</a><br /> -<br /> -Nikanorovitch, Mikhail, <a href="#Page_223">223</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Nikolaevski, <a href="#Page_160">160</a><br /> -<br /> -Nomadic tribes, <a href="#Page_44">44</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -North Caucasian oilfields, <a href="#Page_10">10</a><br /> -<br /> -Northern Persia, Russians in, <a href="#Page_70">70</a><br /> -<br /> -Novy Troitsky, <a href="#Page_122">122</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -O<br /> -<br /> -Oil region of the Caucasus, <a href="#Page_10">10</a><br /> -<br /> -Orenburg falls into Russian hands, <a href="#Page_65">65</a><br /> -<br /> -Osmanli, the, <a href="#Page_46">46</a><br /> -<br /> -Ossetines, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a><br /> -<br /> -Oxus, the, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">a State service of steamers on, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></span><br /> -<br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span> -P<br /> -<br /> -Pamir, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">grants to emigrants, <a href="#Page_152">152</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Passports, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a><br /> -<br /> -Pavlovska, Zoe, a pilgrimage to tomb of Bibi Khanum, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>-<a href="#Page_54">4</a><br /> -<br /> -Paynim, the, <a href="#Page_37">37</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Pecunia</i>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a><br /> -<br /> -Pekin, siege of, <a href="#Page_50">50</a><br /> -<br /> -Persia, roses in, <a href="#Page_20">20</a> <i>et seq.</i>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">its future, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Persian dockers, <a href="#Page_12">12</a><br /> -<br /> -Persians, the, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a><br /> -<br /> -Petrovsk, <a href="#Page_10">10</a><br /> -<br /> -Photographs and free shaves, <a href="#Page_97">97</a><br /> -<br /> -Pigs’ liver, black, <a href="#Page_4">4</a><br /> -<br /> -Pishpek, fall of, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">population of, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a meeting with a Government topographer, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">climate of, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">skin disease in, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a jurisdiction of the Seven Rivers Province, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Government grants for emigrants, <a href="#Page_150">150</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Police, Russian, <a href="#Page_177">177</a><br /> -<br /> -Polovinka, <a href="#Page_174">174</a><br /> -<br /> -Porters, Russian, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Proletkas</i>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a><br /> -<br /> -Prometheus, legend of, <a href="#Page_7">7</a><br /> -<br /> -Przhevalsk, <a href="#Page_148">148</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -R<br /> -<br /> -Railway concessions and fares for emigrants, <a href="#Page_144">144</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Railways, Russian, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a> <i>et seq.</i>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">scenes at stations, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">British distrust of Trans-Persian Railway, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Rice-growing, <a href="#Page_149">149</a><br /> -<br /> -“Ride to Khiva,” Burnaby’s, <a href="#Page_239">239</a><br /> -<br /> -River charges for emigrants, <a href="#Page_147">147</a><br /> -<br /> -Romanovskaya, <a href="#Page_203">203</a><br /> -<br /> -Rome burned by the Goths, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">sacked by the Vandals, <a href="#Page_48">48</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Roses, Persian, <a href="#Page_20">20</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -“Round Table,” the, <a href="#Page_249">249</a> (note)<br /> -<br /> -Russia, English entente with, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">railway systems of, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a> <i>et seq.</i>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">conquered by Attila, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">rise of, <a href="#Page_64">64</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">colonisation of, <a href="#Page_66">66</a> <i>et seq.</i>, <a href="#Page_70">70</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">powers of chief of police in, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">mobilisation of, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">her possible designs on India, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">future of her empire, <a href="#Page_244">244</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">exports of, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>-<a href="#Page_245">5</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the question of a trade treaty, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the white population in, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Russia and England: the question of India, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>-<a href="#Page_244">4</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">rivalry of Empire, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>-<a href="#Page_246">6</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the trade treaty, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>-<a href="#Page_247">7</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the basis of friendship, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>-<a href="#Page_248">8</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Russia and India, and prospects of Anglo-Russian friendship, <a href="#Page_237">237</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Russian card games, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">colonies: provinces open to colonisation, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft2">information to intending colonists, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft2">colonisation, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">exports: the Tariff Reform view of, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Russian Central Asia, capital of, <a href="#Page_57">57</a> <i>et seq.</i>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">commercial travellers in, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>-<a href="#Page_124">4</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Russian Empire, the, and the British Empire, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>-<a href="#Page_270">70</a><br /> -<br /> -Russian Turkestan, Uzbeks in, <a href="#Page_63">63</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -S<br /> -<br /> -St. James’s Conference, the, <a href="#Page_213">213</a><br /> -<br /> -Salt steppes, the, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a><br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span> -Samarkand, the grave of Timour, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">conquest of, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">an impressionist poem on, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a Mohammedan centre, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">foundation of, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Russian occupation of, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">and the Central Asian Railway, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Government inducements to emigrants, <a href="#Page_152">152</a></span><br /> -<br /> -San Francisco, a Chinese underground city in, <a href="#Page_171">171</a><br /> -<br /> -Sandbanks, <a href="#Page_18">18</a><br /> -<br /> -Saracens, the, <a href="#Page_47">47</a><br /> -<br /> -Sarajevo tragedy, the, <a href="#Page_212">212</a><br /> -<br /> -Sarts, the, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">in Samarkand, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">natives of Tashkent, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>-<a href="#Page_60">60</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">their orchestra: music from 10-ft. horns, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Scandinavia, Attila’s conquest of, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> -<br /> -Scythia, <a href="#Page_45">45</a><br /> -<br /> -Semipalatinsk, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">Dostoieffsky in exile at, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">shops of, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>-<a href="#Page_211">211</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">and the Sarajevo tragedy, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>-<a href="#Page_213">213</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Semiretchenskaya Oblast. (<i>See</i> Seven Rivers Land)<br /> -<br /> -Semi-retchie, Northern, plain of, <a href="#Page_186">186</a><br /> -<br /> -Semitic tribes, with Arabs, conquer Persia, etc., <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> -<br /> -Serbia and the assassination of the Archduke of Austria, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>-<a href="#Page_213">213</a><br /> -<br /> -Sergiopol, population of, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">shops of, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a commercial traveller’s experiences in, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>-<a href="#Page_206">6</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Seven Rivers Land, Russian penetration and occupation of, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">fauna of, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">its troika, <a href="#Page_117">117</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">climate of, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Government grants to emigrants, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">taxes, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">military service, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">timber, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">cinema shows in, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the Pass and Gorge of Abakum, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>-<a href="#Page_187">7</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Shakespeare’s burlesque on Tamerlane the Great, <a href="#Page_52">52</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Shashleek</i>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a><br /> -<br /> -Shaving extraordinary, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>-<a href="#Page_182">2</a><br /> -<br /> -Sheep as payment for goods purchased, <a href="#Page_114">114</a><br /> -<br /> -Siberia, value of land in, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">an old-established Russian colony, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">compared with Canada, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>-<a href="#Page_209">9</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">population of, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Sirdaria, deserts of, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">author at, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a Kirghiz settlement at, <a href="#Page_75">75</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Government grants to emigrants, <a href="#Page_152">152</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Skobelef, General, reduces Geok-Tepe, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">in Transcaspia, <a href="#Page_65">65</a></span><br /> -<br /> -<i>Skobelef</i>, the, <a href="#Page_13">13</a><br /> -<br /> -South Africa, irrigation possibilities in, <a href="#Page_255">255</a><br /> -<br /> -Southern Siberia, steppes of, <a href="#Page_8">8</a><br /> -<br /> -Spider, black, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Stantsi</i>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a><br /> -<br /> -Steamship service, a national, <a href="#Page_268">268</a><br /> -<br /> -Stewart, Mr., “Boss of the Terek,” <a href="#Page_4">4</a><br /> -<br /> -Storks in Bokhara, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> -<br /> -Strikes in war time, <a href="#Page_261">261</a><br /> -<br /> -Suffragettes, Russian opinion of, <a href="#Page_195">195</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -T<br /> -<br /> -Table Mountain, <a href="#Page_3">3</a><br /> -<br /> -Tadzhiks, the, <a href="#Page_44">44</a><br /> -<br /> -Talass, River, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a><br /> -<br /> -Tamara, <a href="#Page_6">6</a><br /> -<br /> -Tamara, Queen, castle of, <a href="#Page_6">6</a><br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span> -Tamerlane the Great, his conquests for Mohammedanism, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">Emperor of Asia, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Marlowe on, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">conquest of India and Eastern Russia, <a href="#Page_52">52</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Tariff reform and Russian exports, <a href="#Page_245">245</a><br /> -<br /> -Tartars, enemies to Christians, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">rising of the, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Tashkent, <a href="#Page_57">57</a> <i>et seq.</i>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">water-supply of, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>-<a href="#Page_58">8</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">muezzin towers of, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">an exiled Grand Duke at, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">schools, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>-<a href="#Page_61">1</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">cinema shows at, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Russian atmosphere of, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>-<a href="#Page_62">2</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Kaufmann Square, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">taken by Russians, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Tea, Russian and Indian, <a href="#Page_158">158</a><br /> -<br /> -Tea dust, solidified, <a href="#Page_198">198</a><br /> -<br /> -Tekintsi, the, headgear of, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">a great fortress of, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Terek, River, <a href="#Page_3">3</a><br /> -<br /> -Terek, the “Boss” of, <a href="#Page_4">4</a><br /> -<br /> -Thian Shan Mountains, <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /> -<br /> -Timour the Lame. (<i>See</i> Tamerlane the Great)<br /> -<br /> -Tokmak, fall of, <a href="#Page_64">64</a><br /> -<br /> -Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_264">264</a><br /> -<br /> -Transcaspia becomes a Russian province, <a href="#Page_65">65</a><br /> -<br /> -Trans-Ilian Alai Tau Mountains, <a href="#Page_90">90</a><br /> -<br /> -Trans-Persian Railway, the, <a href="#Page_243">243</a><br /> -<br /> -Tribes, mediæval history of, <a href="#Page_44">44</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Triple Entente, the, <a href="#Page_8">8</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Troika</i>, the Russian, <a href="#Page_117">117</a> <i>et seq.</i><br /> -<br /> -Tsaritsinskaya, <a href="#Page_175">175</a><br /> -<br /> -Tulovka, <a href="#Page_220">220</a><br /> -<br /> -Turkestan, cosmopolitan, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">four great cities of, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">value of land in, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">restrictions as to emigration, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">demand for labour in, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">grants in aid, <a href="#Page_152">152</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Turkish tribes, the chief, <a href="#Page_46">46</a><br /> -<br /> -Turkomans, dress of, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">one of the chief Turkish tribes, <a href="#Page_46">46</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Turks, the, <a href="#Page_46">46</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -U<br /> -<br /> -United Kingdom, the, overcrowding in, <a href="#Page_268">268</a><br /> -<br /> -United States, the, mixed races in, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_264">264</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">loss of British citizens to, <a href="#Page_263">263</a> <i>et seq.</i></span><br /> -<br /> -Ust-Kamennygorsk, <a href="#Page_214">214</a><br /> -<br /> -Uzbeks, the, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">in Bokhara, Khiva, and Russian Turkestan, <a href="#Page_63">63</a></span><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -V<br /> -<br /> -Valens, Emperor, <a href="#Page_47">47</a><br /> -<br /> -Vandals, the, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Vatrushki</i>, <a href="#Page_8">8</a><br /> -<br /> -Verney, fall of, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;<br /> -<span class="indentleft">population of, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">a jurisdiction of the Seven Rivers Province, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">rice-growing at, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">Government grants, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">capital of Seven Rivers, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">its apples, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">the High School, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">German sausages in, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="indentleft">newspaper record of cinema shows, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>-<a href="#Page_159">9</a></span><br /> -<br /> -Visokoe, <a href="#Page_99">99</a><br /> -<br /> -Vladikavkaz, the military road of, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a><br /> -<br /> -Vodka in Russian Central Asia, <a href="#Page_86">86</a><br /> -<br /> -Vsevolodovitch Yaroslaf, <a href="#Page_63">63</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -W<br /> -<br /> -Wages boards, <a href="#Page_261">261</a><br /> -<br /> -Ward, Mrs. Humphry, <a href="#Page_261">261</a><br /> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span><br /> -Wheatfields in the desert, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Wimmera</i>, the, <a href="#Page_261">261</a><br /> -<br /> -Wolves in Russian Central Asia, <a href="#Page_87">87</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Y<br /> -<br /> -Yakuts, the, <a href="#Page_46">46</a><br /> -<br /> -Yaroslaf Vsevolodovitch, <a href="#Page_63">63</a><br /> -<br /> -Yellow Peril, the, <a href="#Page_170">170</a><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Z<br /> -<br /> -Zaalaisk, Government grants to emigrants, <a href="#Page_152">152</a><br /> -<br /> -<i>Zollverein</i>, a, Chamberlain and, <a href="#Page_251">251</a><br /> -</p> - - - - - - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Printed by Cassell</span> & <span class="smcap">Company, Limited, La Belle Sauvage, London, E.C.</span><br /> -F 15.416</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph1">FOOTNOTES:</p> -</div> - - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[A]</a> Connected by rail with Tashkent since my tramp across the country.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[B]</a> As the Government never exercised a monopoly of the sale of vodka -in Russian Central Asia the Tsar’s edict did not apply to these regions. -However, I believe the sale of intoxicating liquor has been greatly restricted -by the local authorities.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">[C]</a> <i>Pecus</i> = a head of cattle, a beast of the field.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">[D]</a> This differentiation in hue is in case the persons holding the certificates -should be illiterate.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">[E]</a> Counting the rouble as worth 1s. 6d. At the moment of writing -it is worth rather less than 1s. 4d., but it should improve somewhat.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[F]</a> See “The Round Table,” a review of the interests of the Empire, and -“The Prospect of a Commonwealth,” an extraordinary after-the-war -volume.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">[G]</a> American value, i.e. £1,000,000,000.</p> - -</div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> - - - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> - -<p>Illustrations have been moved to the nearest paragraph breaks. In some cases, these breaks are on different pages. The List of Illustrations has been updated to reflect these changes.</p> - -<p>In the Index, it appears that two entries have been inadvertently combined into one: Russian card games. The text has been retained as printed.</p> -</div></div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THROUGH RUSSIAN CENTRAL ASIA ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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