FROM KHIVA To KUNGRAT AND BACK.
The young Mollah from Kungrat, who had joined our caravan in order to reach Samarkand, was planning to go and take leave of his native town and kindred whilst we were staying at Khiva; and great was his joy when he learned that I was desirous of accompanying him thither, partly from a wish to make a begging tour and collect all I could, and partly for the sake of escaping the uncomfortable crowding in hot, sultry Khiva. In his delight he promised me mountains of gold, describing everything in the most glowing colours, to sustain me in my resolve. I needed, however, no urging, too glad to meet with such an opportunity; and two days after I was actually on my way to Yengi Urgendj, from whence I hoped to reach the Oxus, where a half-laden vessel was ready to take us on board for a moderate fare.
The journey from Khiva to Kungrat is chiefly made by water in the summer, and down the river at high water it never lasts longer than five days; that is, during the very heat of summer, when the river has reached its greatest height, owing to the melting of the snow on the Hindukush and the tops of the Bedakhshan mountains. In the autumn and spring, at low water, the voyage lasts longer, and in winter it is entirely interrupted, the Oxus being in many parts, although not wholly, covered with ice.
The traveller can take ship, if so inclined, from the very walls of Khiva, that is, on the canal Hazreti Pehlivan, but not without making a great détour, since its mouth is to the south, near Hezaresp, instead of being to the north. The same objection applies to the second canal, Gazavat, which is at a considerable distance from the town, and flows rather eastward than northward. For this reason the traveller prefers to go to Yengi Urgendj, the first manufacturing and commercial city in the Khanat, and then on to Akhun Baba, the tomb of a saint, with a few scattered havlis (farmsteads) near it, which is situated on the banks of the Oxus, and is the first stage on the road. The distance is about eighteen English miles, in a well cultivated and tolerably populous district, the road leading through fields, gardens and meadows. Here are found the finest mulberry trees in the greatest abundance, and consequently the cultivation of silk is extremely flourishing; in fact, this part of the country justly deserves to be called one of the most beautiful in the whole Khanat.
The heat was so fierce and intolerable on the banks of the Oxus, that I could not help expressing some uneasiness to the boatmen, but they comforted me by saying, that down stream this evil would be remedied, by putting up a Peshekhane (mosquito net), which would not be in their way, the boat being steered only at either end. The mosquito net was at once put up; it had the shape of a canopy, and was to protect us in the day time from the sun, at night from the dangerous mosquitoes; and the necessary fatiha (blessings) on starting having been pronounced, we pushed off in company of four boatmen and two other passengers.
The voyage was at first very monotonous. The two men, one at the upper end and one at the lower end of the boat, kept steering it to those parts of the river where the water was yellowish and turbid, the current being here the strongest, as they explained to us. The rudders consisted of long poles, flattened at the end, and the two steersmen generally remained seated down at their work, unless special care and attention were required. They were relieved about every two hours, when, less fatigued by their labour than scorched by the sun, they would join us in our sheltered retreat, stretch themselves out at full length, to our great annoyance, and soon be heard snoring in chorus, until they had to return to their task. Of our two fellow-travellers, happily only one was very loquacious; and whenever my Tartar friend explained to me this or that point of interest, he would interrupt him with his copious emendations, and thus satisfy my curiosity by a full and detailed commentary.
The banks of the Oxus present few features especially worthy of interest, although far more than Boutenieff notices in his travels, who, in his mission in 1858, took the same route from Kungrat to Yengi Urgendj, up stream. On the right bank, opposite the place where we embarked, is seen the great ruin, Shahbaz Veli (the sacred hero), which is said to have been a strong fortress in ancient times, and which was destroyed by the Kalmucks. In the history of Khiva these people are regarded as the great destroyers of the Khanat; and although it is true that at the time of their invasion under Djengiz, the then flourishing Kharezm suffered terribly at their hands, yet it is an exaggeration to assert, as tradition does, that all the ruins are the sole work of their lust for devastation. Farther on I met with another extensive ruin with the remains of stone buildings, called Gaur Kaleszi (the fortress of the Gaurs). Under the term "Gaur," I first understood the Gebers or fire-worshippers, but soon I learned to my great astonishment, that by this name are designated, throughout Central Asia, the Armenians or rather the Nestorians, who possessed here large colonies, extending from the Sea of Aral far into China, in pre-Islamitic times down to the decline of the Mongol dominion.
On the right bank extends for more than three leagues, from the above-mentioned ruins down to the water's edge, a somewhat dense forest (togay), called Khitabegi. The trees are not particularly high, but the sun is nevertheless unable to penetrate and dry up the marshes fed by the Oxus. Only in very few places is the forest inhabited, and that by the Karakalpak tribe, who rear cattle. The left bank is the really inhabited part; here the chain of Havlis is scarcely interrupted, and here and there villages of some size are seen lying close to the water, such as the Œzbeg village Tashkale, which is situated on a high bank, and the smaller village of Vezir, near which the canal Kilidjbay discharges, or rather forms a basin, previous to losing itself beyond Yilali in the sand.
To make tea, prepare palau, and either listen to or tell sacred legends, was the alternate occupation of the day. Sometimes it happened that all my companions, the steersmen alone excepted, fell fast asleep, producing a pause, which was to me a most pleasant change; and as I fixed my eyes upon the yellow, turbid waters of the ancient Oxus, my imagination loved to revert to the clear mirror of many a European river, whose waters are ploughed by hundreds of ships, and whose verdant, smiling banks, are full of life and activity. What a gigantic contrast!
The Oxus is the typical representative of the country it traverses,—wild and unruly in its course, like the temperament of the Central Asiatics. Its shallows are as little marked as the good and bad qualities in the Turkoman; daily it makes for itself new channels similar to the nomad, whose restless spirit, wearied of staying long in one spot, is ever craving for novelty and change.
Early the second day we passed the town of Görlen at a short distance from the shore. The proper landing place is a village near, called Ishimdji, and opposite to it on the right bank is situated the fort Rehimberdi Beg, which I mention merely because here begins the mountain chain of Oveis Karayne, extending from south-east to north.[12] At first sight it bears much resemblance, as well in height as in its formation, to the Great Balkan in the desert, between Khiva and Astrabad; but on a nearer approach its larger circumference soon becomes apparent, and the luxuriant vegetation and the woods with which several of its heights are clothed, present a scene of agreeable surprise. On one of them is said to be the tomb of Oveis Karayne, a celebrated place of pilgrimage in Khiva, and in the distance we discovered several buildings, which Rehimberdi Beg had erected for the convenience of the devotees. Further on is the Munadjat daghi (mount of devotion), which is pointed out as the resting place of a holy lady, called Amberene (Mother Ambra). Holy women are not often met with in Sunnitic Islamism; there are, however, a few of them in Central Asia, which may be taken as a fresh proof that Islamism does not treat the fair sex with such unnatural harshness as people in Europe are apt to imagine. As to my lady Amberene, tradition tells us that, a Zuleikha in beauty, a Fatima in virtue, she was hated and afterwards expelled by her husband, solely because she professed the Mohammedan religion, of which he was an arch-enemy. Driven from her princely abode in Urgendj, she was obliged to take refuge in this wild spot, and would have died of starvation but for a hind which appeared daily at the entrance of her cave, waiting to be milked, and then again disappeared. Who, in hearing this tale, is not reminded of the story of Genoveva? The Parisians in those days were not better than the Œzbegs of to-day; nor can we fail to be struck with the identity that exists in fables of social and religious life, among nations living widely separated from each other.
After leaving Görlen we went on for about four hours down stream, and came to Yengï yap, an insignificant hamlet, surrounded by earth walls, and about one hour and a half distant from the river. Two hours later we reached the district of Khitayi, which begins where the Yumalak, a conical hill, rises close to the left bank. On the right the Oveis mountains approach nearer and nearer to the Oxus, and soon we passed the prominent peak Yampuk, crowned with the ruins of an old castle. Opposite Yumalak the mountain chain, Sheik Djeli, which runs from east to west, forms a very narrow channel (here called kisnak), much narrower than the Iron Gates on the Danube, and often dangerous to navigation from the force and rapidity of the current. The waters here roar, as if the Oxus, that unruly son of the desert, were angry at being so imprisoned between the rocks. The narrowest part is, however, very short; on the left bank the mountains terminate abruptly, while on the right bank the high lands gradually slope, and after having passed Tama, which lies on the left, the country is everywhere flat. With the mountains disappeared every romantic feature along the banks of the Oxus. After a voyage of two days our eyes and imagination were fully satisfied, and although the morning and evening hours had their charms, yet the heat became intolerable in the day-time, and the mosquitoes and flies at night—insects, in comparison with which the Golumbacz on the Lower Danube are harmless and insignificant as butterflies. As soon as the sun began to set, every one crept carefully under the mosquito-net, made, of course, of linen, the air under which had become so thoroughly poisoned by my fellow-travellers, that I felt keenly not to be able to exchange it for the purer air outside. Towards evening we reached the district of Mangit, which has a town of the same name, about two hours' distance from the river, but not visible from the boat on account of a small wood which intervenes. Here we remained for some time moored along the bank, and having comfortably cooked our dinner in the open air, instead of on the narrow hearth in the boat, we continued our voyage. We reached Basuyap, after another hour's journey, at night, much to the regret of my friend, who had been anxious to pay a visit with me to a very celebrated Nogaï Ishan, who resided there, in order to ask his advice and blessing on the journey he had undertaken. These Nogaï, who fled hither to escape the Russian authorities or the conscription, are in Central Asia regarded as martyrs to freedom and Islamism, and revered as such; but I have frequently met among them the most consummate rascals, and thought that they had probably run away from a fully merited chastisement.
Early in the morning we passed Kiptchak, which is the second stage on the journey, and lies on both sides of the Oxus. At this place a rock rises from the water, which, extending across the river, narrows the channel by more than half its width, and renders the navigation so extremely dangerous, that it is never attempted, except at broad daylight. At low water some of the points are visible, and it is no uncommon thing to see children, a foot deep in water, clambering upon them.
Kiptchak itself is a place of considerable importance, inhabited by an Œzbeg tribe of the same name, and possesses several mosques and colleges. Of the latter, the college situated on the right bank of the river was founded by Khodja Niaz, and is deservedly celebrated for its rich endowments. Not far from this building, which stands separately, is seen the ruin Tchilpik, on a hill rising close to the water. Tradition asserts that in ancient times it was a strong castle, and the residence of a Princess, who, having fallen in love with one of her father's slaves, and dreading the anger of her offended parent, fled hither for refuge with her lover. In order to obtain water, they were obliged to pierce the hill downwards to the river, and the subterranean passage exists at the present day.
From Kiptshak up the stream begins the forest already mentioned, which extends with few interruptions along the right bank of the river to some distance beyond Kungrat. I could not see from the boat how far its breadth stretched eastward, but I have been assured that it is from eight to ten hours' journey. Its approach from the river is intercepted by bogs and morasses, which render it only in a few places accessible. In the less thickly-wooded parts graze numberless herds of cattle, the property of the Karakalpaks, who find abundance of game in the forest, but sometimes suffer greatly from the numerous wild beasts, especially panthers, tigers, and lions, which infest that district. From here to Görlen the stream has so many shallows, that we were incessantly striking aground. The left bank rises to an elevated plateau, which extends far in a north-westerly direction, and is called Yilankir (the field of serpents) by the natives. On the western frontier of the desert it forms a declivity as steep as the Kaflankir, or the whole table-land of Ustyurt. The population of this region consists of Jomut-Turkomans and Tchaudors; the former lead a nomadic life near the river, and in the country round Porsu and Yilali; the latter inhabit the skirts of the desert and the several oases of the Ustyurt. Both tribes, as may well be imagined, live in constant feud with each other,—a condition as much to their disadvantage, as it is to the advantage of the Œzbegs, the immediate neighbourhood of a strong and united nomad people proving always most dangerous to the dwellers in settled habitations.
On the evening of the third day we stopped at Khodja Ili,[13] a town about two hours' distance from the river. Most of the inhabitants derive their origin from Khodja, and they are not a little proud of comparing their ancestry with that of the other Œzbegs. The whole district is thickly populated, and the left bank forms as far as Nöks[14] an uninterrupted chain of wood and cultivated land. Here is one of the most dangerous places in the Oxus, a waterfall, which at the time of our voyage rushed down from the height of three feet with the swiftness of an arrow and with a tremendous noise, which is heard at the distance of more than a league. The natives call it Kazankitken, i.e., the spot where the cauldrons went to the bottom, since a vessel laden with these utensils is said to have been lost here. Full fifteen minutes before reaching the waterfall the boats are brought close to the shore, and carefully towed along. From here down the stream the river has formed by inundations very considerable lakes, which communicate with one another by small natural canals, which seldom dry up entirely. The largest are: Kuyruklu Köl and Sari Tchöngül. The former is said to extend for several days' journey far towards the north-east; the latter is smaller in circumference, but much deeper.
We passed Nöks on the fourth day. Even on the left bank we saw cultivation gradually decreasing as we advanced; the river on both sides is bordered with forests, and forms half-way to Kungrat a broad and rather deep canal, called Ogüzkitken, which takes a south-westerly direction and falls into the lake Shorkatchi. Efforts have been made to cut off the latter from the large stream by raising dykes, but in vain, and the immense extent of water renders the navigation here exceedingly troublesome. The forest terminates at the tomb of a saint, called Afakkhodja, and the district of Kungrat begins, covered, as far as the eye can reach, with gardens, fields and "havlis." The town itself did not become visible until the evening of the fifth day, after we had passed the run of a fortress built by the rebel Törebeg at the time of Mehemmed Emin, and a whirlpool near it.
Our stay in this most northerly town of the Khanat of Khiva was of very short duration, since my young companion, having lost his parents a year before, was not long in taking leave of the relative who dwelt here, and himself urged a speedy return. The town has a far more miserable appearance than those in the south, and is chiefly known for its large fairs, to which the nomads of the neighbourhood resort, offering for sale large quantities of cattle, butter, carpets of felt, camels' hair and wool. A brisk trade is also carried on in fish, especially dried fish, which are brought from the sea of Aral, and sent afterwards from here all over the Khanat. I must mention as a very remarkable fact, that I met here with two Russians, who had turned Mahometans, and lived in the full enjoyment of a comfortable dwelling-house, a flourishing farmstead, and a numerous family. They were prisoners of the Perowsky Army, and received their liberty from Mehemmed Emin Khan, under the condition that they would adopt Islamism. One of them has been presented with a Persian slave: the dark-brown daughter of Iran and the fair-haired son of the north live very happily together, and although the latter has several times had the opportunity of returning to his native home, he has not been able to form the resolution of quitting his adopted fatherland on the banks of the Oxus.
In conclusion, I will state the scanty information I gathered here about the further course of the Oxus from Kungrat to its embouchure in the Sea of Aral. At two hours' distance from this town, going down stream, the river divides into two great arms, which are little distinguished from each other. The right one, which keeps the name of Amu Derya, reaches the lake first, but in consequence of its many ramifications it is too shallow, and at low water extremely difficult to navigate. The left arm, which bears the name of Tarlik (the strait)[15] is narrow, but of a certain depth throughout, and is little used, simply on account of the great circuit it makes on its way to the lake. The traffic on the Lower Oxus is inconsiderable, and not to be compared with that which enlivens the river between Tchihardjuy and Kungrat, where it forms the principal commercial highway between Bokhara and Khiva. In autumn it is chiefly fishing which takes the Œzbegs to the sea, and the trade in dried sea-fish is in all three Khanats an important one. It has become an almost indispensable article to the inhabitants of the steppes, from their being too parsimonious to feed on meat, in spite of their wealth in cattle, and therefore preferring, as they do, dried fish as its substitute. In the spring, on the other hand, it is the wild geese, large numbers of which are found around the several mouths of the river, which tempt all those who are fond of shooting to the shores of the Sea of Aral. At this season of the year also most pilgrimages take place, undertaken by pious Œzbegs to the tomb of Tokmak Baba, which is situated upon an island of the same name, near these outlets. This saint is revered as the patron of fishermen, and rests under a small mausoleum, in the inner cell of which have been carefully preserved through remote ages his clothes and cooking utensils, among which a cauldron is an object of peculiar veneration. I was told, that even the Russians very rarely land on this island, although access to it has been greatly facilitated by steam-vessels, and that in case they do visit it, they never touch these relics,—as if moved by involuntary feelings of respect.
In surveying the whole course of this remarkable river, from its source on the Ser-i-kul (beginning of the sea) down to its embouchure, we perceive firstly, that it is not, as Burnes asserts, navigable throughout its entire length, but on the contrary, that only from Kerki, or rather from Tchihardjuy down stream can it be used for large and small craft. Upwards from these towns we meet nothing but rafts, carrying fuel and timber, in which the slopes of the Bedakhshan mountains abound, and supplying the scantily wooded plains, but seldom used by families emigrating to the Lower Oxus. Between Hezaresp and Eltchig, a part of the river which forms one stage on the way to Bokhara, larger boats already are used from and to Khiva, which carry goods and victuals; but the greatest traffic is undoubtedly on that part of the river, which flows in the Khanat of Khiva, where the river, with its many towns along its banks, affords a favourite and cheap means, up as well as down stream, for the transport of large freight, and is used among the poorer classes even for personal inter-communication. Secondly, it appears to me (I abstain from making any assertion, not possessing sufficient knowledge on the subject), that the Oxus has scarcely the capabilities of becoming the powerful artery for traffic and communication in Central Asia, which politicians, when speaking of the future of Turkestan, confidently expect. It never can become of the same importance as the Yaxartes, whose waters at this very moment are ploughed by Russian steamers, a conjecture sufficiently warranted by the fact, that the Russians entered Turkestan with their flotilla of the Sea of Aral, not by the Oxus, but by the Yaxartes, a river far less favourable to their plans of occupation. It has been urged, that the uninhabited shores of this last-named river are of greater importance to the Court of St. Petersburg; but this is a worthless argument, and rests solely on our want of geographical knowledge with respect to Central Asia.
With steamers on the Oxus, the Russians would not only have been able to keep the Khanat of Khiva in check, to garrison the fortress of Kungrat, Kiptshak and Hezaresp, but they would have had the power of introducing with the greatest ease a strong corps d'armée by Karakul into Bokhara, and thus into the very heart of Central Asia, had not the extraordinary physical difficulties of this route rendered such a scheme impracticable. Moreover, of this the Russians themselves became sufficiently convinced, when making their very first appearance in Central Asia. Apart from the waterfall at Khodja Ili, the dangerous cliffs near Kiptchak and the Kisnak near Yampuk, the Oxus offers perhaps the greatest difficulties to navigation in its numerous sandbanks, which in some parts extend for many miles, and at the same time undergo such rapid changes in consequence of the large quantity of sand the stream carries along with it, that it is quite impossible to take observations, and even the most experienced steersman can do no more than guess the navigable channel by the colour, but can never indicate it with confidence or certainty. Thirdly, to regulate this stream, which at the beginning of the spring, and during the latter part of the autumn, is almost two-thirds smaller than in summer, would be of the greatest disadvantage to the inhabitants, since its numerous arms and canals not only are necessary for the cultivation of their fields, but supply with drinking water even the most distant parts of the country, to say nothing of the rapid current rendering such an undertaking extremely difficult. If the Khan of Khiva wanted to declare war against some rebellious part of his country, he would first of all cut off the canals and aqueducts, a stroke of policy which would be felt most severely; and a government, which were to shut the sluices in order to increase the water in the bed of the Oxus, would commit an act equivalent to a declaration of hostilities against the whole country at once.
Not only has the Oxus extremely rapid currents, but it continually deviates from its original channel. These deviations in the lower part of the river begin after its bend near Hezaresp, and are far more numerous than is generally supposed. Upon enquiring of the inhabitants about them, they reckoned up more than eight on each side, and although they may have included in this estimate former canals, nevertheless its irregularity must be admitted. Taking this view, there is very little difficulty in agreeing with Sir Henry Rawlinson, who founded his assertion on a very valuable Persian manuscript, that in former times the Sea of Aral had no existence whatever.
The journey from Kungrat to Khiva is generally made by land, since it requires from eighteen to twenty days up stream. The transport of freight is made by water. There are three roads by land; 1, by Köhne Urgends, which is called the summer route, and avoids the lakes, outlets and arms of the Oxus, which at that season of the year are full to overflowing. This route is the longest, 56 farsakh[16] in length; 2, by Khodja Ili, a distance of 40 farsakh, which the traveller prefers in the winter, all the waters being frozen; and 3, the road on the right bank of the Oxus by Shurakhan, which makes several détours, and runs through a great many sand-steppes.
Our return journey had to be made with all possible speed, but nevertheless we were obliged to take the long road by Köhne Urgendj. We had the good fortune to join a party of travellers, of whom some were going to Köhne Urgendj, others to Khiva. All were capitally mounted, and even the horses placed at our disposal "lillah" (out of pious benevolence) were young, vigorous animals, and, as we carried no luggage except a few biscuits with a small store of provisions for our journey, we rode briskly along in spite of the heat, which even in the early morning made itself felt. Leaving the gate of the town behind us, we rode across the well-cultivated district of Kungrat, keeping always a north-westerly direction, and then crossing a barren tract of country, came to a large stagnant water, called Atyolu, which is marked out as the first stage, and is 7 farsakh long. A bridge leads over a narrow part of it, and here the road diverges in two parts, the one of which skirts a low mountain, called Kazak Orge, and, crossing the great plateau of Ustyurt, goes to Orenburg; the other leads to Köhne Urgendj. We took the latter route, and passing through forests and sandy tracts, now and then came in sight of some ruin on either side of the road, of which two were pointed out as being worthy of notice;—Karagömbez (black dome), near which a salt is found as clear and white as crystal, and the finest in the Khanat, and Barsakilmez (he who goes does not return), a dangerous spot, inhabited even at the present day by evil spirits, and where many, who went there from curiosity, have lost their lives.
After a long ride of five hours we reached the second station, called Kabilbeg Havli. It is an isolated farmstead, but, in accordance with an old custom of the proprietors, we were received and treated with great hospitality, and remembering that we had the prospect of a long ride of eight hours from here to the next stage, Kiziltchagalan, our kind host had not forgotten to provide us at breakfast with meat and bread. It was still dark when we started. Our companions were examining their weapons with the utmost care, which made me fear that we might perhaps have to pass some hostile tribe of the Turkomans; but they removed my uneasiness on this point, cautioning me at the same time that we should have to travel the whole day long in a thick forest, in which there were many lions, panthers and wild boars, which sometimes have been known to attack the traveller. They added, that although they never reached the place of danger till broad daylight, yet they invariably moved forward with the greatest circumspection, and, above all put great confidence in their horses, which no sooner prick up their ears, or begin to snort, than each and all seize their weapons. It is well known that lions and panthers in a climate like that of Central Asia are far less dangerous than their brethren in India and Africa, and therefore I did not share the fears of my young Tartar companion; on the contrary, I rather longed for adventure and the excitement of the chase. The Œzbeg, however, like a true Asiatic, possesses an excitable imagination; there was neither trace nor sound to indicate that we were near the abode of the king of animals, and we saw nothing but some herds of wild boars, who with a loud crash made their way through the thick underwood, and an immense, nay, fabulous number of Guinea-fowl and pheasants, of which we made rich spoil for our evening halt. These birds are in this part of the country of a much finer flavour than in Mazendran, the Œzbegs also understand far better than the Persians to dress and cook them. Emerging from the forest, we soon came in sight of the fortified place Kiziltshagalan, which is inhabited by Œzbegs. We arrived there in good time, and the following morning continued our road across a district inhabited by Yomuts.
Köhne Urgendj is considered the fourth station, although the journey thither does not occupy above three hours. This ancient metropolis of far-famed Kharezm, in Central Asia, is the poorest of all those cities in Asia which have shared the same fate, and however much its former splendour is extolled in word and writing, I could not help feeling at the sight of its still existing ruins, that it had been the centre of no higher than Tartar civilisation. The town of the present day is small, dirty and insignificant, although it must have been much larger in former times, to judge from the ruins that lie scattered outside the wall. These ruins are not older than the Islamitic era, and date from the reign of Shahi Kharezmian, an epoch of a higher culture. The most remarkable object here is the mosque of Törebeg Khanim (not Khan), of which I have already made mention in my "Travels," and which is larger and more splendid than Hazreti Pehlivan. The latter, nevertheless, has been considered hitherto the finest monument in Khiva, and it must be admitted that with its works in Kashi (glazed tiles), in which throughout the yellow colour predominates, it is not inferior to any architectural monument of the same kind in Turkestan. Further is seen the mausoleums of Sheikh Sheref with a high azure dome, of Piriyar, the father of the very celebrated Pehlivan, and of Sheikh Nedshm ed-din Kübera. The latter has of late been restored from decay by the liberality of Mehemmed Emin Khan. I was told that there are in the neighbourhood several towers and walls built of stone, such as Puldshoydu (money destroyed) which is distant three hours' journey. Whenever a storm ploughs up the sand-hills there, coins and vessels of gold and silver are discovered, and people who take the trouble of sifting the sand, find frequently their labour amply requited. There is also the Aysanem, or double kiosk of Aysanem and Shahsanem, the famous pair of lovers, whose romantic fate forms the subject of a collection of songs frequently sung by the native minstrels. The name appears to be a stereotyped name for any two isolated ruins, since there are Shahsanems to be found in other parts of Khiva and Bokhara, as well as in the neighbourhood of Herat, and everywhere the same legends are recorded of them with few variations.
At Köhne Urgendj the road divides, both branches running at a small distance from each other. The one less frequented runs by Porsu and Yilali, and is taken by people who travel in large parties; the proximity of the marauding tribes of the Tshaudors and Yomut Turkomans, rendering the road, at least as far as Tashhauz, very insecure. The second road, nearer the Oxus, runs with few interruptions along its banks, a tract of country strewn with farmsteads (Havlis), villages and hamlets. This road is generally taken in summer, although it is the longer of the two, and also more troublesome on account of the many ditches and canals for irrigation. Whereas, a caravan must keep together as far as Tashhauz on the former road, travellers on the latter may part company as early as at Kiptchak, and each continue his way separately.