"Yes, takhsir (sir)! and, besides, to be edified by thy blessed beauty."
"Strange; and hast thou no other object in coming here from such distant lands?"
"No, takhsir! It has ever been the warmest wish of my heart to visit n.o.ble Bokhara and enchanting Samarkand, upon whose sacred ground, as is justly observed by Sheikh Djelal, men should walk with their heads rather than their feet. Besides, this is my only vocation, and I having been roaming now through the world for many a day as a _djihangheste_"
(a wanderer through the world).
"How is this, a djihangheste with thy lame foot? This is very strange indeed."
"Let me be thy victim, takhsir! (This phrase answers our "I beg your pardon, sir") Thy glorious ancestor Timur--may he rest in peace--was afflicted in the same way, and yet he became a _djihanghir_" (a conqueror of the world).
Having bantered me in this preliminary conversation, the Emir inquired what sort of impression Bokhara and Samarkand had made upon me. My answers, which I took occasion to interlard with copious citations of Persian poetry, seemed to make a favourable impression upon the Emir, who was a mollah himself and spoke Arabic pretty well; but I was not altogether sure yet of my success with him. After the audience had lasted for a quarter of an hour he summoned a servant, and telling him something in a cautious undertone he bade me follow the servant.
I quickly rose from my sitting posture and followed as I had been bid.
The servant led me through a number of yards and halls, whilst my mind was at the time cruelly agitated by fears and misgivings as to my fate; my perplexed imagination conjuring up pictures of horror and seeing myself already travelling on the road to the rack and that dreadful death which was ever present to my mind. My guide showed me, after a good deal of wandering about, into a dark room, conveying to me by a sign that I should expect him here. I stood still, in what state of mind any one can guess. I counted the moments with feverish excitement--when the door opened again. A few seconds yet of suspense and the servant approached at last, and by the light of the opening door I saw him holding in his hand, instead of the frightful instruments of the executioner, a parcel carefully folded up. In it I found a highly ornamental suit of clothing, and an amount of money destined for my onward journey, sent to me as a present by the Emir.
As soon as I obtained possession of the parcel I hastened away to my companions, wild with joy at my escape. They were quite as glad of my success as I myself had been. I subsequently learned that Rahmet-Bi had sent the Emir an equivocating report about me, in consequence of which I was received with diffidence at first by the Emir, but succeeded in dissipating his mistrust, thanks to the glibness of my tongue.
My fellow-hadjis now advised me to leave Samarkand at once, and not even to sojourn at _Karshi_, but to cross over as quickly as possible to the other side of the Oxus, and await there in the midst of the hospitable _Ersari-Turkomans_ the arrival of the caravan bound for Herat. I took their advice. The hour of parting was at hand. I feel my pen is too feeble to give an adequate picture of the parting scene. For six months we had been sharing in all the dangers connected with travelling in the desert; we had in common defied robbers, borne the raging elements, and braved hunger and thirst. No wonder then that the barriers of position, age and nationality were all broken down, and that we had come to look on ourselves as one family. It may be easily imagined with what heavy hearts we looked forward to the sad moment when we should have to separate. There is hardly anything more painful to the heart of a true man than to see those ties severed which common hardships, the exchange of mutual acts of friendship and devotion, have firmly knit together.
And mine, especially, I own it, nearly broke at the thought of the double-dealing I had to practise upon these friends of mine--the best I had in the world, who had preserved my life--even in these last moments leaving them in the dark as to my ident.i.ty. But those who know the fanaticism of the Moslems, and the danger I should have exposed myself to by divulging the truth even at the moment of farewell, will surely find no fault with my reserve.
XXV.
FROM SAMARKAND TO HERAT.
I did not remain long with my new fellow-travellers from the Khanate of Kokhand. But I attached myself all the more closely to a young mollah from Kungrat by the name of Ishak, who wished to go with me to Mecca. He was a kind-hearted youth, as poor as myself, and looking upon me as his master, he was always ready to serve and oblige me.
The road from Samarkand follows the direction of the road to Bokhara up to the hill whence we saw the city for the first time. The next day found us already in the desert. In truth, however, compared to the other deserts through which I had pa.s.sed, it might have been more fitly denominated an extensive gra.s.sy plain or a prairie. One meets here everywhere with herdsmen, owing to the numerous wells around which nomadic Uzbegs have their tents erected. The wells are for the most part very deep, and near them are tanks forming reservoirs for water, of stone or wood, at which the cattle are watered. To avoid the fatiguing labour of drawing water from the wells with buckets which are exceedingly small, the herdsmen attach the rope of the bucket to the saddle of a mule, pa.s.sing it over a pulley, making thus the mule perform the work of drawing water. Quite a picturesque scene is presented by such a well, the flocks of sheep wandering or resting near it with their serious shepherds, and I was forcibly reminded by it of similar sights in the Lowlands of Hungary. On the second day after our departure we met a caravan coming from Karshi, near one of the wells. One of this caravan, a young woman who had been sold by her husband to an old Tadjik, and had discovered the infamous transaction after she reached the desert, was tearing her hair, bitterly wailing and crying, and upon catching sight of me she frantically rushed up to where I stood and exclaimed: "My hadji, thou hast read books: where is it written that a Mussulman may sell his wife, the mother of his children?" In vain I told the Tadjik that to do so was to commit a grievous sin, he only composedly smiled; the judge at Karshi apparently not having shared my views, the buyer felt quite sure as to the validity of the bargain.
We proceeded but slowly owing to the excessive heat, and it took two days and three nights to reach _Karshi_. Nakhsheb was the ancient name of Karshi, and as a city it ranks second in the Khanate of Bokhara in extent and commercial importance. I went in search of an Uzbeg by the name of Ishan Ha.s.san, to whom my friends had given me a letter of introduction. I found him and was very cordially received by him. He advised me to buy an a.s.s, cattle being very cheap in Karshi, and to purchase with my remaining money knives, needles, thread, gla.s.s beads, Bokhara-made pocket-handkerchiefs, and particularly carnelians brought here from India, and to trade with these articles amongst the nomadic people we should meet along our road. All the hadjis do the same thing.
In exchange for a needle or a couple of gla.s.s beads you get bread and melons enough to last a whole day. I saw that the good man was right, and went on the very same day with the Kungrat mollah to make the intended purchases. One half of my khurdjin was full of my ma.n.u.scripts, mostly of literary and historical contents, which I bought in the bazaar of Bokhara; the other half was used by me as a storehouse for my wares, and thus I became at once an antiquarian, a dealer in fashionable articles, a hadji and a mollah, deriving an additional source of income from the sale of benedictions, nefesses, amulets, and similar wonderful articles.
After a stay of three days I left, in company of the mollah Ishak and two other hadjis, for Kerki, about fifty-six miles distant from Karshi.
After three days" travelling we reached the Oxus in the morning, at a place where there was a small fort on our side of the sh.o.r.e, and on the opposite side on a steep height the frontier fort surrounded by the small town of _Kerki_. The Oxus flowing between the two forts is here nearly twice the width of the Danube near Budapest, but owing to its rapid current, which drove us considerably out of our course, it took us fully three hours to cross over. The boatmen were very clever, and would not accept anything of us for ferrying us over. But scarcely had we placed our feet on the sh.o.r.e when the _deryabeghi_ (the river officer) of the governor of Kerki stopped us, accusing us of being runaway slaves intending to return to Persia, and compelling us to follow him immediately with all our luggage and things to the castle of the governor. My surprise and terror may be easily imagined. Three of my companions whose speech and features at once betrayed their origin were allowed to go free before long. I did not fare quite so well; things would not pa.s.s off so smoothly with me, they making all kinds of objections; but finally I flew into a rage, and exchanging the Turco-Tartar dialect I had been using for that of Constantinople, I emphatically insisted either upon having my pa.s.sport shown to the Bi (governor) at once, or upon being taken into his presence.
At the noise I made the _toptchubashi_ (an officer of artillery), who was of Persian origin, said something in a whisper to the deryabeghi.
Then he took me aside, and telling me that he had gone several times to Stambul, from Tebriz, his native city, he knew very well persons belonging to Roum, and I might be perfectly quiet, as no harm would befall me.
Every stranger must submit to this searching investigation; for as slaves who had become free and were returning home had to pay a tax of two gold pieces at the border, there were many of them who resorted to all kinds of subterfuges and disguises to steal unrecognized over the frontiers. The servant who had taken my pa.s.sport to the governor soon returned, not only bringing back with him my papers, but a present of five tenghis which the governor had sent me.
I was very sorry to learn that Mollah Zeman, the chief of the caravan going from Bokhara to Herat, was not expected to make his appearance before the lapse of eight or ten days. I consequently left in company of Mollah Ishak to go amongst the Ersari-Turkomans living in the neighbourhood. Here I entered once the house of Khalfa Niyaz, an ishan who had inherited sanct.i.ty, science, and authority from his father. He had a cloister of his own, and had obtained a special license from Mecca to recite sacred poems. In reading, he always had a cup filled with water placed by his side, and would spit into the water whenever he had finished reading a poem. The saliva thus permeated by the sanct.i.ty of the words he would then sell as a miraculous panacea to the highest bidder.
As we had an abundance of leisure, my faithful mollah and I, we visited the Lebab-Turkomans (viz., Turkomans on the bank). We were given quarters in the yard of an abandoned mosque. In the evening hours the Turkomans would bring with them one of their poetical tales, or a poem out of their collections of songs, and I was in the habit of reading it out aloud to them. It was delightful to have them sitting around me in the stilly night within view of the Oxus rolling onward, they listening to me with rapt attention while I read about the brave feats of one of their heroes.
One evening the reading had lasted as late as midnight. I was quite f.a.gged out, and, forgetting to heed the advice I had been frequently given not to lie down near a building in ruins, I stretched my weary limbs close to a wall and very soon fell asleep. I might have slept for an hour when I was suddenly roused by a painful sensation. I jumped up screaming; I thought a hundred poisoned needles had run into my leg. The spot from which the pain proceeded was a small point near the big toe of my right foot. My cries roused an old Turkoman, lying nearest to me, who, without asking any questions, immediately broke out in the following comforting apostrophe: "Unhappy hadji! thou wast bitten by a scorpion, and that at the unlucky season of the _saratan_ (canicular or dog days). G.o.d have mercy on thee!" Saying these words he seized my foot, and tightly swathing my foot so as almost to sever it from the heel, he immediately applied his mouth to the wounded spot, and began to suck at it with such a violence that I felt it pa.s.sing through my whole body. Another soon took his place, and re-swathing my foot twice they left me to my fate, with the sorry comfort that it would be decided before next morning"s prayers whether it would please Allah to free me from my pain or from the vanities of this world. Although I was quite stupefied with being thrown about, and the burning and stinging pain which kept on increasing in intensity, my memory still reverted in a dull, mechanical way to a recollection of the act that the scorpions of Belkh were known in ancient times for their venomous nature. My distress was rendered more intolerable by my fears, and that I had given up every hope during the many hours of suffering was proved by the circ.u.mstance that, totally unmindful of my incognito, I had broken out into such moans and plaintive exclamations as seemed to be quite outlandish to the Tartars, who, as I subsequently learned, were in the habit of bursting out into shouts of joy on an occasion of this kind. In a few seconds the pain had darted from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, rushing up and down like a stream of fire, but being confined nevertheless to my right side only. The tortures I was suffering beggar all description, and losing all further interest in life I dashed my head against the ground reckless of all consequences, and seeking relief in death. This action of suicidal violence was speedily remarked by the others, and they, taking no heed of my remonstrance, tied me securely to a tree.
Thus I continued to be in a prostrate, half-fainting condition for several hours, staring fixedly at the starry vault above me, whilst the cold sweat of agony was gathering in heavy drops on my forehead. The Pleiades were slowly moving towards the west, the beloved West, which I despaired of ever seeing again. Being perfectly conscious I looked forward to the hour of prayer with its sounds of devotion, or rather to the dawn of day. Meanwhile gentle sleep stole over me, sealing my burning eyelids, but I was soon roused from my beneficent slumbers by the monotonous: "La Illah, il Allah!"
When I awoke and began to arrange my ideas I thought I felt a slight cessation of the pain. The burning and stinging sensation grew less and less violent, and about the time that the sun had risen to the height of a lance, I could attempt to stand on my foot, although very feebly and clumsily yet. My companions a.s.sured me that the morning prayer had the effect of exorcising the devil which had crept into my body by means of the bite of the scorpion. Of course I dared not suggest any doubts as to this pious version of my cure, but was too well pleased under any circ.u.mstances to have got over this dreadful night, the horrors of which will be ever present in my memory.
After having waited for many weary days for the arrival of the caravan from Herat we were at length informed that the looked-for event was near at hand. I immediately hastened to Kerki, in the hope of starting at once. But my hopes in this direction were doomed to disappointment.
There were about forty freed slaves from Persia and Herat in the caravan of Mollah Zeman, who were now on their way home under his dearly-paid protection. In journeying alone these poor freedmen run the risk of being pounced upon and sold into slavery again. These former slaves returning home must pay toll here, and this gave occasion to a great deal of noisy demonstration, the kervanbashi having stated the number of slaves at a lower figure than was warranted by the actual facts, whilst the officer of customs claimed toll for others not slaves, setting down every person who was not known to him to be free as a slave, and demanding toll for him. And as neither of them would yield, but stood up in defence of their respective allegations, the hubbub and anger seemed to be in a fair way of never subsiding. It took the entire day to examine the goods, the men, the camels, and the a.s.ses. We left at last, not, however, without the escort of the officer of the customs, who kept a vigilant eye upon the caravan lest some straggling travellers might join it at some by-path. He did not leave us until we had crossed the frontiers of Bokhara, and had proceeded on our journey through the desert.
At the first station I gathered that there were a great number of people, besides myself, in the caravan who were longing to set their eyes on the southernmost border of Central Asia. The freedmen appeared to seek our company by preference, that is, the company of the hadjis, and by their joining us I had occasion to hear of truly affecting instances of the misery of some. Near me was sitting a grayheaded old man who had just ransomed his son, aged thirty, in Bokhara, and was taking him back to the arms of a young wife and infants. He had to purchase his son"s freedom by sacrificing all he had, the ransom amounting to fifty gold pieces. "I shall rather bear poverty," he said, "than see my son in chains." His home was in Khaf, in Eastern Persia.
Not far from me there was lying a muscular man, whose hair had turned gray with mental agony. A few years ago the Turkomans had carried away into slavery his wife, his sister, and six children. For a whole year he had wearily to drag his steps through Khiva and Bokhara before he could find a trace of them. When he had succeeded in tracking them a heavy blow was in store for him. His wife and the two smallest of the children as well as his sister had perished from the hardships of slavery, and of the four remaining children he could purchase the freedom of only the two younger ones; the two elder ones, girls, who had blossomed into beautiful la.s.ses, being rated too high and above the amount of ransom he could afford to pay. There was a group of an aged woman and a young man that attracted our attention. They were mother and son, he a young man from Herat, and she fifty years old. He had purchased the liberty of his mother. Two years before, as she was travelling in the company of her husband and eldest son, they were attacked and made prisoners. Her husband and son were ma.s.sacred before her eyes, and she was sold into slavery at Bokhara for twenty gold pieces. When her younger son found her and offered to ransom her, they doubled the amount as soon as they recognized him as a son, rapaciously speculating in his filial affection. Let me mention the case of another unfortunate man who had been sold into slavery about eight years previously, and was ransomed after about six years of slavery by his father. On their way home when but a few hours" march from their native town, both father and son were fallen upon by Turkomans, who immediately carried them to Bokhara to be sold. Now they had both regained their freedom and were returning home.
We were following a southern course, through an interminable level plain dest.i.tute of vegetation with the exception of a species of thistle, growing spa.r.s.ely, which furnishes a sweet morsel for the camel. It is rather wonderful how these animals will pull off with their tongues and swallow a plant the mere touch of which is apt to wound the most callous hand.
At Maimene, the caravan camping outside the town, I put up at the _tekkie_ (convent) of one Ishan Eyub, to whom I had been given a letter of introduction by Hadji Salih. The following day I set up my shop at the corner of a street. My stock of wares, however, was quite reduced owing to the fact that I had not replenished it since the first purchases I had made. One of my companions came up to me and said in a tone of warning and compa.s.sion: "Hadji Reshid, half of thy knives, needles, and gla.s.s beads, thou hast already eaten up, the other half, together with thy ear, will follow in a short time; what will then become of thee?" The man was perfectly right, but what was I to do? My future caused me many an anxious thought, the Persian border being far away, with winter approaching. I comforted myself very soon, however, with the remembrance of my former experiences amongst the Uzbegs, whom I knew never to allow a hadji or a beggar to leave their door empty-handed. I was sure of bread and fruit, and, now and then, even of a gift of some piece of clothing; and with these I hoped to be able to get on in my journey.
No difficulties about the tolls retained us at Maimene, but the kervanbashi and more prominent merchants of our caravan put off their departure on account of their own private affairs. They wished to attend two or three horse fairs at least, the prices of these animals being very low here. The horses are brought to the fair by the Uzbegs and Turkomans of the environs, and are carried from here to Herat, Kandahar, Kabul, and often to India. Horses which I saw sold in Persia for thirty to forty gold pieces apiece, could be bought here at one hundred to one hundred and sixty tenghis (a tenghi being about ninepence).
Our road now lay continuously through mountainous regions. Upon reaching the border of Maimene, we were confronted again by a Yuzbashi, performing the office of frontier"s guard, who levied upon us an additional toll under the t.i.tle of whip money, this being the third toll we had to pay within the Khanate of Maimene. A merchant from Herat to whom I complained about this extortion, observed to me: "Thank G.o.d we are called upon to pay toll only. In former days travelling in these parts was most dangerous, for the Khan himself was plundering the caravans."
A troop of _Djemshidis_ who were sent by the Khan from _Bala Murgab_, for our protection against predatory tribes through whose territories we were to pa.s.s, joined us at the frontier, forming our escort. I was informed that our caravan had not been exposed to such imminent danger as awaited them here during the whole journey from Bokhara. We kept our eyes open, carefully glancing to the right and left, and cautiously surveying every little hill we pa.s.sed. Thus we journeyed on in the greatest suspense, but it was in all probability owing to the size of the caravan and its watchfulness that we escaped being attacked.
At the time the caravan left Herat for Bokhara it was spring, and Herat was then besieged by the Afghans under Dost Mohammed. Six months had pa.s.sed since the news of the capture of the city; its pillage and destruction had reached us long ago, and the intense longing of those of our caravan who were from Herat to see again their families, friends, and houses may therefore be easily imagined. We were, nevertheless, made to wait a whole day at Kerrukh, one of the border villages of Herat, until the officer of the Customs, who had come already upon us in the morning, had, in the overbearing and supercilious manner peculiar to the Afghans, finished making up, with a great deal of ado, an extensive list of every traveller, animal, and each piece of goods we had with us. I had imagined Afghanistan to be a country with somewhat of a regular administration; nay, I had fondly hoped that my sufferings would terminate here, and that I might dispense henceforth with the a.s.sumption of the character of a dervish. Alas! I was sadly mistaken.
Nowhere had we been treated in such a brutal manner as we were treated here by the Afghan Customs collectors. We had to pay duty on the very clothes we wore, with the exception of the shirt. On my a.s.s I had to pay a duty of six krans, and he who was not able to pay had simply all his things confiscated.
Towards evening, when the plundering was over, the governor of Kerrukh, who has the rank of a major, made his appearance in order that he might examine us. At me he took a good long look, evidently being struck by my foreign features, and immediately summoned the kervanbashi to make some whispered inquiries about me. He then called me to come near him, made me sit down, and treated me with marked politeness. Whilst talking with me he studiously turned the conversation on Bokhara, smiling always in a mysterious way as he did so. But I remained faithful to the part I had a.s.sumed. On taking leave he wanted to shake hands with me in the English fashion, but I antic.i.p.ated the motion of his hand by raising mine as if in the act of bestowing a _fatiha_ upon him, whereupon he left me with a laugh. We were finally allowed to leave Kerrukh, and entered Herat on the following morning after a toilsome journey of six weeks.
XXVI.
IN HERAT AND BEYOND IT.
The large, flourishing valley, intersected by ca.n.a.ls, in the centre of which the city of Herat is situated, is called _Djolghei-Herat_ (the Plain of Herat). I saw with surprise how rapidly the wounds inflicted by war had healed. But two months ago savage Afghan hordes had been camping in the neighbourhood, trampling down and laying waste everything, and behold! to-day the fields and vineyards are boasting of their intensest verdure, and the meadows are covered with a luxuriant sward dotted all over with field-flowers, making them look like embroidered work.
We entered by the gate of _Dervaze-Irak_ (viz., the Gate of Irak). The gate itself and the houses surrounding it were one ma.s.s of ruins. Not far from the gate, in the interior of the city, was a lofty fortification, which, owing to its phenomena, was more particularly exposed to the hostile missiles, and now there was nothing left of it but a heap of stones. The wooden framework from door and window was gone, it having been used up as fuel, of which there was great scarcity in the city during the siege. In the deserted openings of the houses were seen naked Afghans and Hindoos squatting, worthy keepers of a city in ruins. At every step I advanced the desolation became more appalling; entire quarters of the town were empty and deserted. The bazaar alone, or rather that part of it covered with the cupola, which has withstood many a siege, presented an interesting picture of life characteristic of the confluence of Persia, India, and Central Asia at this place. It was a wonderful sight to see the astonishing variety of types, complexions, and costumes amongst Afghans, Hindoos, Turkomans, Persians, and Jews.
The Afghan, whose national costume consists of a shirt, drawers, and a dirty blanket, a.s.sumes sometimes the English red coat, but on his head he wears the never-failing picturesque Hindoo-Afghan turban. The more civilized affect in part the Persian dress. Arms are the universal fashion; private citizens as well as soldiers seldom come to the bazaar without sword and shield, and persons wishing to look distinguished carry with them a whole a.r.s.enal. The Afghan is both in appearance and demeanour the rudest and most savage, every one pa.s.sing him with a great show of humility, but never did people hate a conqueror more intensely than those of Herat the Afghan. The surging, variegated crowd before me was pleasant to look at. There were moments when, seeing Afghan soldiers in English uniforms and with shakos on their heads, I thought that after all I was now in a country where I had nothing to fear from Islamite fanaticism, and that I might drop the mask which had become intolerable to me. But only for a moment, for upon reflection I could not help remembering that I was in the East, where appearances are most deceptive.
As I mentioned before, my purse was quite empty. I tried everything in my power to procure myself the necessary travelling expenses. I waited upon the reigning prince, Serdar Mehemmed Yakub Khan, a youth sixteen years old, and the son of the then king of Afghanistan. The king had entrusted this youth with the government of the conquered province, he having had to hasten to Kabul where his own brothers were plotting to deprive him of his throne. The young prince was residing in a palace very much battered by the siege. He was dressed in a uniform with a high-standing collar, and would sit, most of the time, in an arm-chair at the window: and when wearied with the great number of pet.i.tioners which it was his official duty to receive, he would order military drills and manuvres to be executed on the place below his window and inspect them from there.
As I was stepping into the courtyard of the palace in the company of Mollah Ishak, the military drill was just at its height. Near the door of the reception hall a crowd of servants, military men and pet.i.tioners were lounging. Thanks to my huge turban and pilgrim-like appearance every one made way for me, and I could reach the hall without interference from anybody. When I stepped into the hall I found the prince seated as usual in his arm-chair, with the Vizier on his right side, whilst ranged along the wall were standing other officers, mollahs, and people from Herat. In front of the prince were the keeper of the seal and four or five servants. As became my position as a dervish I entered with the customary salutation, and exciting no sort of comment by it, I went up straight to the prince, seating myself between him and the Vizier, after having pushed aside the latter, a stout Afghan, to make room for me. There was a general laugh at this intermezzo, but I kept my countenance and immediately raised my hand to recite my customary prayer. The prince looked at me fixedly during the prayer. I observed an expression of surprise and hesitation stealing over his face, and after I had said "Amen," and the whole company smoothing their beards responded to it, he jumped up from his chair, and pointing at me with his finger, he exclaimed, laughing and yet half astonished, "I swear by G.o.d, thou art an Englishman!"
A loud burst of laughter followed the original remark of the young prince, but he, in no wise disconcerted, approached, stood up in front of me, and then clapping his hands like a child who had guessed right at something he added, "Let me be thy victim! confess thou art an Ingiliz in disguise." But I now pretended to act as if the joke had been carried too far for my forbearance, and said: "_Sahib mek.u.m_ (stop this); dost thou know the proverb--"he who even in fun takes a true believer to be an unbeliever, becomes one himself?" Give me rather something for my _fatiha_ that I may continue my journey." My grave looks and the citation made by me somewhat perplexed the young prince, and sitting down again, half ashamed of himself, he excused himself by saying that he had never seen a dervish from Bokhara with such features. I answered him that I was not from Bokhara but from Constantinople; and having shown him as a proof my pa.s.sport and spoken to him about his cousin Djelaleddin Khan, who had visited Mecca and Constantinople in 1860 and met with a most distinguished reception on the part of the Sultan, he seemed to be perfectly satisfied. My pa.s.sport pa.s.sed from hand to hand, everybody approved of its contents, and the prince giving me a couple of krans called upon me to visit him again whilst I remained in Herat, an invitation of which I did not fail to avail myself.[4]
[Footnote 4: It was the same prince who afterwards succeeded his father Shir Ali Khan upon the throne of Kabul. In spite of having proved himself at the beginning of his career to be a valiant soldier, he nevertheless turned afterwards a cowardly man by partic.i.p.ating in the murder of Sir Louis Cavagnari and the rest of the English officers who took part in the British Mission to Kabul.]
Time dragged on heavily while I was waiting for a caravan at Herat, and I grew very impatient at the delay. There was a sad and depressing air about the city, terror of the savage conqueror could be read in every face, and the recent siege and devastation continued to form the ever-recurring topics of conversation. At length, on the 10th of November, 1863, I left this entrance-gate to Central Asia, joining a larger caravan going to Meshed, with which I was to accomplish the remaining portion of my journey. The caravan consisted of two thousand persons, half of whom were Hezares from Kabul who, for the most part poor and miserable, were proceeding with their kith and kin on a pilgrimage to the shrines of Shi-ite saints. The caravan forming thus a large body of men, its members were subdivided again into smaller bands.
I was a.s.signed to a troop of Afghans from Kandahar, who were dealing in furs and indigo, and were conveying these articles of merchandise to Persia.
I thought that I had emptied the cup of bitter sufferings to the very dregs during my wandering through Central Asia, but it was reserved for the journey from Herat to Meshed to convince me that there may be miseries greater still than those I had already endured. I was utterly dest.i.tute of money, of everything, and to satisfy my daily wants I was thrown upon the charity of the Afghans and Tadjiks. The Tadjiks were poor pilgrims, themselves but scantily supplied with the bare necessaries of life. And as to the Afghans, their known avarice and meanness of character might give me a dispensation from telling how hard it was to excite their pity. I fared best when we happened to pitch our tents near some inhabited village. In such a case my Tartar and I divided the village between us; I would go in one direction and beg for wood and fuel, whilst he would go in another begging for bread and flour, and on meeting again we would exchange parts.