RECEIVING THE PILGRIMS.The dusk of evening was approaching when we arrived, tired and exhausted, at Khandjan's tent, hoping to get a little rest. Vain hope! True, there was the tent destined for us, standing near that of Khandjan, on the shore of the Gorghen, but scarcely had we taken possession of it, with the customary ceremony of walking thrice round it and spitting at each of the four corners, than visitors came crowding into the narrow space. They remained till late in the evening asking us thousands of questions which it taxed our whole strength to answer properly. Our host at length took pity on us, and called upon our visitors to leave us to ourselves in order that we might obtain some rest. Supper, consisting of boiled fish and sour milk, was brought us meanwhile by Khandjan's son, a boy twelve years old, called Baba Djan—i.e., literally, the father's soul. The meal was brought into the tent on a large wooden platter by a Persian slave, who dragged a heavy chain after him. He was relieved of the dish by Baba Djan, who placed it before us, and sat down by his father's side, while both looked at us with genuine satisfaction as we fell to with our keen appetites upon the dishes before us. After the meal was over we said our prayers in the customary way. Hadji Bilal raised his hands, every one present following his example, and as he finished by passing his hand over his beard and saying, "Bismillah," Allah Ekber, his action was repeated by everybody. Then Khandjan was congratulated on all sides on account of his guests, and the visitors dispersed.

On the following morning, the 13th of April, as I awoke thoroughly refreshed and invigorated by a night's sound sleep on a tolerably comfortable couch, I found Hadji Bilal standing by my side and was invited by him to take a walk. HOW TO BECOME A DERVISH.During the walk he sermonized me a little, telling me that it was time I should doff the rank of Effendi, and become a dervish body and soul. "Thou must have observed," he continued, "that both I and all our companions, without distinction of age, have said our fatiha (blessing) on the men. This thou too must now look to. I know that it is not the custom to do so in Roum, but here people will wish it of thee, and they will find it very strange that thou, professing to be a dervish, dost not fulfil the duties of a dervish. Thou knowest the form of blessing; utter it with confidence and a proper expression of devoutness. Thou mayest bestow the nefes (holy breath) too, if called to the bedside of the sick; but ever remember to hold out thy hand, for well do these people know that we dervishes live by our holy trade, and that a present is never amiss with us." He then asked my pardon for having dared to instruct me, but, added, that he meant it for my best. I need not say that I felt much obliged to him for his advice and observations, which were prompted by the genuine interest he took in me.

On this occasion my friend told me also that Khandjan and other Turkomans had been inquiring about me, with a peculiarly mysterious air, and that he succeeded, with great difficulty only, in persuading them that my journey possessed no official character whatever. The Turkomans thought I was going to Khiva and Bokhara on some secret and confidential anti-Russian mission of the Sultan. Hadji Bilal was too sensible to flatly contradict their impressions in the matter, well knowing that they hold the Sultan in high respect, and that I should be benefited by making them think more highly of me.

We returned to our quarters, and found Khandjan with his whole family, his relations and numerous friends, already waiting for us. He brought to us his wife and his aged mother, to obtain for them our blessing. We blessed everybody present, one by one. Khandjan then declared that, guests being according to Turkoman custom the dearest members of the family, we could go about without let or hindrance not only amongst his tribe, the Kelte, but also amongst that of Yomut, and that if any of them should so much as dare to touch a hair of our heads, he would know how to obtain satisfaction for such an outrage. "You must remain with us two weeks longer, at least," continued our host, "until some caravan happens to go to Khiva. Take now your rest, visit the other tents; a Turkoman never allows a dervish to leave his tent with an empty hand, and it will do you no harm to fill your bread-sacks well, for it is a long journey from here to Khiva and Bokhara."

We gladly followed his advice. During the first day I went visiting at several of the tents, in the company of Khandjan, or his brother and friends of the family. Later on I went with Hadji Bilal, bestowing blessings, or visiting the sick in company of Hadji Salih, who dabbled considerably in the art of healing. Whilst he gave the medicine, I bestowed the blessing on the patient, and was rewarded for it by the gift of a small piece of cloth, dried fish and other trifles. Whether it was owing to my successful cures or to the curiosity of the people to see the hadji from Roum, I do not know, but certain it is that patients came flocking to me, and I treated them by either bestowing my blessing upon them, or breathing upon them, or writing talismans for them. Here and there sceptical people thought me a political emissary and strongly doubted my dervishship, but I paid very little attention to them.

The number of my acquaintances was daily increasing, the most prominent people being amongst them. LEARNING IN THE WILDS.The friendship of Kizil Akhond, whose real name was Mollah Murad, proved to be of particularly great service to me. The recommendations of this distinguished scholar, who was universally respected, opened the way everywhere. He had in his possession a book which he got, while studying in Bokhara, treating of Mohammedan theology, written in Ottoman-Turkish, which he found some difficulty in understanding; and I had a chance of obliging him by furnishing the proper key to it. He was very much pleased with my conversation, and spoke everywhere in the highest terms of me, especially praising me for my great knowledge of the books of Islam. I managed to secure the kind feelings of Satligh Akhond, another highly respected priest. When I first met him he gave thanks to Providence, in a special prayer, for having permitted him to behold, in my person, a Mussulman from Roum, the true source of the faith; and upon people commenting in his presence on the whiteness of my complexion, he insisted that this was the real nur-ul-Islam, the light of Islam shining from my face, and was by the blessing of God the birthright of the Western faithful only. Nor did I fail to cultivate the friendship of Mollah Durdis, who was invested with the rank of a chief judge (Kazi Kelan), for I soon found out that the ulemas were the only class who could exercise any influence over this savage people. As a sort of scholar, I, too, shared in the general esteem, and may cite, in point, the following instance. There were ancient Grecian ruins on the territory of Gomushtepe, probably of a fort built by Alexander the Great, which gave a name to the settlement. These ruins contain the only stone walls to be met with in the whole neighbourhood. It was considered proper, Gomushtepe being the principal settlement of the Yomuts, to raise there a temple to God, built of stone, particularly as the materials necessary for the same were furnished in abundance at the ruins near by. I was selected by Kizil Akhond, in my capacity of the most learned and experienced dervish, to determine the place and the proper position, in the direction of Mecca (Kibla), of the altar (mihrab), a task which I very readily accomplished.

In the company of Kizil Akhond, I made an excursion, occupying four days, into the territory of one of the tribes of the Yomuts, living to the east, and the Goklen Turkomans. On returning we were told that Hadji Kari Mesud, one of my companions, living in a tent used as a mosque, had been robbed. The stolen articles were searched for everywhere, but could not be found. Finally the Sheikh or Imam caused it to be publicly announced that he would pronounce a curse against the thief, unless the stolen property were restored to its rightful owner within a given time. The threat had its effect, for scarcely twenty-four hours had passed when the thief made his appearance, penitent and humble, bringing with him not only the stolen property, but some presents of expiation besides. About the same time we received some good news in regard to a caravan which was to go to Khiva. The Khan of Khiva, whom the physicians had ordered to drink buffalo milk for his health, had sent his kervanbashi (chief of the caravans) to Astrabad to buy two buffaloes, there being no such animals in his dominions. The kervanbashi had already passed through Gomushtepe, and we were to join his caravan and start at once with him upon his return. A better guide we could not desire, for there was not a man more familiar with the desert than he.

I thought it very strange that many of our party were urging our departure, although these poor people were entertained in the most hospitable manner. SLAVERY."It is impossible for us," they replied to my queries, "to witness any longer the cruelties perpetrated against these poor Persian slaves. It is true they are heretics and that we have to bear much ill-treatment in passing through their country, but what these poor people must suffer exceeds all bounds." The reader may imagine what the fate of these Persian slaves under their Turkoman masters must have been, if even my Tartar companions, who, it is true, know of no slave trade in their own country, had their compassion roused at the spectacle of their sufferings. Usually these poor people are forcibly torn, during the night, from the bosom of their families, and often dragged here covered with wounds. The poor man, once a prisoner, has his clothes taken away, and receives instead a few scanty rags barely sufficient to cover his nakedness, and heavy chains are placed upon his limbs, galling his ankles and heels, and causing him cruel pain at every step he takes. In this way he continues for weeks to drag out a miserable existence on coarse food, and to prevent him from running away during the night, an iron collar (karabogra) is placed around his neck by which he is chained to a stake, the clanking of his chains betraying his slightest movement. He continues in this sad plight until he is either ransomed by his relations or sent to Khiva or Bokhara to be sold.

There is hardly a Turkoman of the better classes near whose tent the clanking of the chains of a couple of slaves is not heard. Khandjan had also two slaves, youths from eighteen to twenty years old, and my heart ached whenever I saw them dragging their heavy chains after them. I had the additional mortification of being compelled to insult and swear at them in public, as the slightest sympathy shown to them would have roused suspicion in my host, particularly as they addressed me oftener than the others, owing to my knowledge of their language. The younger of our two domestic slaves, a fine youth from Iran, with black curls, begged of me to write his parents a letter, beseeching them, for the love of God, to sell their house and sheep, and ransom him. I did as he requested. Upon one occasion I thought I could pass him, unobserved, a cup of tea, but as he was about to take it from my hands some one entered the tent. I did not, however, lose countenance for one minute; I pretended to have only teased him, and the poor fellow, instead of getting a cup of tea, had to put up with a few gentle blows from me, to keep up my false pretence. Not a night passed during my stay in Gomushtepe without firing being heard from the sea announcing the arrival of a slaver.

The inhabitants of Gomushtepe were untiring in the arrangement of feasts for devotional purposes, and on such occasions the entire hadji-company had to be present. I once wished to excuse myself, but was ushered out of my tent by a violent poke in the ribs from my would-be host, it being a rule of Turkoman etiquette that "the harder the thrusts, the more cordial the invitation." Upon these festive occasions it is the custom to spread in front of the host's tent a few pieces of cloth, or if the thing is done in great style, carpets, upon which the invited guests seat themselves in groups of six, each group forming a circle. Each of these groups gets a large wooden platter, the contents of which vary in quantity according to the ages and number of the guests, and every one helps himself with his hands, thrusting them into the plate until they reach its bottom. As to the quality of the dishes, the less said about them the better; I will only mention, in parenthesis, that horse's and camel's meat is the order of the day. A BETROTHAL FEAST.Whilst we were the guests of Khandjan he celebrated by a feast the betrothal of his son, a boy of twelve years, with a girl of ten; and, of course, we had to be present at this feast. Originally the betrothal was to have taken place in the following autumn, but he took advantage of our presence to get our blessing for the young couple. A rather remarkable man was the Karaktchi, by whom also an entertainment was arranged in honour of our party. This man, all by himself and being on foot, took three Persians prisoners, and drove them a distance of eight miles into slavery. He gave us, as our share, a tenth part of the plunder, being the tithe belonging to the priests and amounting to two krans for each of us; and when we sang, blessing him, the fatiha, the man was beside himself with joy.

After we had passed three weeks in Gomushtepe we began our preparations for the onward journey, Khandjan promising to assist us in every way. We gave up the idea of purchasing camels owing to the expense it involved, and made up our minds to hire, instead, one camel for every two persons, which would carry at the same time the water and the flour of those two. The latter plan, however, would have been attended with considerable difficulty but for the assistance we got from Ilias Beg, who happened to be the very man we wanted for our purposes. This man differed from the others in being less religiously inclined, and being wanting in respect towards our hadjiship, but he observed all the more scrupulously the laws of hospitality. He was a Turkoman from Khiva, and belonged to the tribe of Yomut. Once in every year he used to cross the desert and visit this neighbourhood on business, and whilst on these visits enjoyed during his stay in Gomushtepe the protection of Khandjan, without which he would have been no more safe than any other stranger. He generally came in the autumn and left again in spring with from twenty to thirty camels laden partly with goods of his own, and partly with goods belonging to others. This season he was anxious to take with him a greater number of camels, not caring even if they were without a load, and the conveyance of our party came to him in the nick of time. Khandjan solemnly adjured him to take good care of us. "Thou shalt answer for their safety with thy life, Ilias!" he said, and the latter, fixing his eyes upon the ground, as the Nomads always do when they seem to be in earnest, merely answered: "Thou knowest me." We settled with Ilias to pay him two gold pieces for the hire of every camel we were to use, but that he should convey our water and flour free of charge. The money I had sewn into various parts of my ragged garments, added to what I had received in money for my blessings and cures, would have permitted me to hire a camel by myself, but Hadji Bilal persuaded me not to do so. He represented to me that an appearance of misery, inviting pity, was the best protection against the Nomads, whose predatory instincts are roused at the slightest indication of ease or comfort about a person. He mentioned the names of several of our companions who were well provided with money, but who, for safety's sake, are compelled to be clad in rags and to walk on foot. Yielding to his representations, I, too, hired a camel in common with another man; with this proviso, however, that I should be allowed to make use of a kedsheve (two baskets, one hanging on each side of the camel), because of the difficulty I should experience in sitting, with my lame foot cramped up, in the company of another man, for forty long stations. Ilias was not inclined to grant my request, this kedsheve being in the desert an additional burden to the camel, but he finally yielded to the persuasions of Khandjan. It was a source of additional satisfaction to me that I succeeded in securing Hadji Bilal for my neighbour, or rather counterpoise, for he became every day more indispensable to me.

When the bargain was concluded we paid Ilias his hire in advance, according to custom. Hadji Bilal then said a fatiha, and Ilias having smoothed the few thin hairs representing his beard, and answered with an affirmative "Amen," we felt quite easy about the arrangement. We urged him to hasten his departure, but he would make no promises, the time of his starting depending upon that of the kervanbashi of the Khan of Khiva, who was to go in front of the caravan with his buffaloes.

A ROBBER CHIEF.In Etrek, a place on the river of the same name and the first station on our road, we were to enjoy the hospitality of Kulkhan, the Karaktchilar piri viz (gray-beard of the robbers), who just then happened to be in Gomushtepe, and to whose special grace we were commended by Khandjan. This old rascal had a morose and repulsive look about him. When he learned that I should be his guest in Etrek he seemed to study my features, and exchanging whispers with Khandjan appeared not to agree with the others. I very soon found out the reason of his distrust. In his youth he had travelled all over Russia, had passed considerable time in Tiflis, and had become tolerably familiar with European life. He told them he had seen men of various nations, the Osmanlis excepted, that the latter, too, are said to be kinsmen of the Turkomans and to resemble them, but that to his surprise there was nothing in my features to indicate the remotest relationship with either. Hadji Bilal remarked to him, in reply, that he was badly informed, as he himself had been living for a long time in Roum, and had never observed the resemblance spoken of by him. Kulkhan was somewhat pacified by this explanation, and, informing us that he would leave for Etrek the day after to-morrow, he told us to hold ourselves in readiness for the journey; for, added he, although Etrek was only twelve miles off we could not get there without him, and he was only waiting for the return of his son Kolman from the alaman (a predatory venture). He invited us, at the same time, to walk to the lower shore of the Gorghen about noon, when his son would return and gladden us with a rare spectacle. Not having anything to do I was easily persuaded to go and mix with the crowd already assembled there, eagerly waiting for the arrival of their friends. Before long eight Turkoman horsemen were seen advancing in a furious gallop toward the opposite shore, bringing with them about ten spare horses. Eager eyes, full of mute admiration, followed every movement of the young horsemen, who in a second had crossed swimming the Gorghen, reached our shore, dismounted, and were now extending with indescribable gravity their hands to their friends and relations. However much I despised their occupation I could not help feasting my eyes on the manly forms of these young fellows, who in their short riding costumes, their long fair hair falling in curls on their shoulders, and with defiant looks, were the objects of general admiration. At the sight even morose Kulkhan cheered up a little, and after introducing his son, who received Hadji Bilal's blessing, we parted in order to attend to the final preparations for our journey.