horses, but the third had to go further, our troika
being mounted by three turbaned riders. Sevier and
I got into the tarantass for the next stage, and after
proceeding about half the distance, we passed Kara-
Kum, where is, I think, a dry well, as also near on
the left, the ruins of the town Maimanak. W e had
no trotting until we approached Khoja-Moburak, which
we reached at 6.30, and found it a village of 60 or 70
houses, affording a resting-place for caravans between
Bokhara and Karshi. I cannot say that I was satisfied
with having accomplished 36 miles only for a days
journey, and I therefore desired that we should go on to
the next station ; but our escort said the horses were
too tired, and, indeed, the men appeared horrified at
the notion of travelling by night in the steppe,
thought at the time this was only an excuse, but experience
taught me further on that “ perils of robbers
was here a thing by no means to be risked.
T he chief man of Khoja-Moburak came out to meet
■ us, and conducted us to a poor but nicely-carpeted
lodging, where our room measured about 12 feet by 8.
Here I nearly had an accident, for taking a light to
get something out of the tarantass, the man to whom I
gave the candle to hold, set fire to the cotton lining of
the apron, which fortunately I managed to extinguish
quickly, or we might have had serious loss. T he
inhabitants, however, were determined that we should
not suffer from either fire or pillage, for they set 10
men to watch the tarantass through the night, and I
told Kolutch to sleep inside. I asked a few questions
concerning taxes, and was told that from 12 surrounding
villages are collected annually 100,000 tengas, or
¿2,500, whilst the population, chiefly Tajiks, with a few
Uzbegs, was guessed at 100,000! I record this, though
I do not think the figures trustworthy. Colonel Maieff,
in a similar case, says he was told by the Amliakdar of
Karakia, in the bekship of Chirakchi, that there were
sown in his Amliakdarship alone 250 tons of wheat
and 125 tons of barley.
A s we could not go further the first day from
Karshi, I resolved, if possible, to start early the next
morning, and was rewarded for turning out by getting
my first sight, on October 10th, in the direction of the
“ Great Bear,” of the beautiful comet of 1882, with its
enormously expanded tail. The natives said it had been
visible for the previous 20 days, and that the world
was now coming to an end.* A s we drove out of the
miserable village of Khoja-Moburak we saw a beautiful
sunrise over the barren steppe, and we jogged along
a road destitute of anything green, until the postilions
wanted, for some reason, to re-arrange their troik a;
whereupon Sevier and I mounted our horses for a
ride. It was a magnificent morning. T he wind was
fresh, but not much laden with sand. The previous
day had been hot, and my minimum thermometer had
gone down in the night only to 550; but at this early
hour there was just so much of autumnal freshness in
the air as to make it perfect for horseback travel.
My little horse had manifested a strong liking to
get before everyone else in the cavalcade, wherefore
I named him Diotrephes, and let him have his way.
By this time, too, we understood each other pretty
well, and I had got firmly into my seat. Upon
giving my horse his head, Sevier came on, and
Kolutch, not liking to be outstripped, joined in the
run. So did several others, and away we scampered
* Illustrating Jeremiah x. 2 : “ Learn not the way of the heathen, and
be not dismayed at the signs of heaven ; for the heathen are dismayed
at them.”