6th May.
Oraz Djan, a young, daring and wild looking Turkoman, of about eighteen years old, who had taken part in marauding excursions ever since he was twelve, was a daily guest in our tent at Etrek, in order to listen to the Pir (spiritual chief) of the kidnapping robbers, in his discourses on religion and moral philosophy. It happened one day, that Omer Akhond, a Mollah from the neighbourhood, was present, a man celebrated for his great knowledge, and still better known as the owner of a particularly excellent horse. The animal was spoken of, and every one was loud in the praise of its high qualities, when young Oraz, catching fire on hearing this, called out half in earnest, half in joke, "Akhond, I will give thee three asses and a Persian for thy horse. It is a pity that it should rest in the stable, whilst the Persians so freely wander in their fields. But, if thou dost not consent, then mark my words, in a few days it will be stolen from thee!" The Mollah and Pir rebuked him severely, but he laughed aloud wildly, and the conversation continued as before.
Scarcely four days had passed when the Mollah entered our tent one morning with tears in his eyes, and looking very sad. "My horse has been stolen from me," he exclaimed with a sigh, "thou alone, Kulkhan, canst restore it to me. Let me entreat thee, by the love of the Tshiharyar (the four first chiefs,) do thy utmost!" "This is the work of the Haramzade (Bastard) Oraz," muttered Kulkhan, "you will see, I shall tear his black soul from out of his dirty body."
At the time of evening prayer our amiable Oraz was, as usual, among the rest of our orthodox friends, who assembled on the terrace-like height, where stands the mosque of the desert, and certainly no one would have guessed, from his devotional expression at his prayers, that this very day he had been robbing a father of the church. When after the Namaz all formed the customary circle (Khalka,) Oraz did not fail to come. Kulkhan at once addressed him with, "Young fellow! The horse of the Mollah has been stolen, thou knowest where it is; to-morrow morning he must be again in his stable, do you hear me?" This address caused the young robber not the least embarrassment. Playing with one hand in the sand, and with the other pushing on one side his heavy fur hat, he replied, "I have the horse, but I shall not return it; he who wants it must fetch it." These words, I thought, would have roused the indignation of every one present, but not a trace of it was seen in the features of one of the company. Kulkhan went on speaking to him in his former quiet tone of voice, but the robber insisted on refusing to restore the horse, and when some of the grey-beards began to use threats, he, too, caught fire, and having turned to his spiritual chief with "Hast thou done better with the mare of the Hadji?" rose and left the company; and for some time was heard singing aloud the refrain of the poem Körogli, in the still evening air, thus proving sufficiently his joy at the victory he had gained.
A considerable time was spent in consultation after he was gone. No one ventured to attack him, since his tribe, according to custom, would have taken him under their protection, in spite of his abominable conduct, and they were too powerful to risk an attack. Spiritual aid, therefore, had to be called in, and that it should have taken immediate effect is not to be marvelled at.
According to the Deb no greater punishment can befal a living man, than to be accused before the shade of his departed father or ancestor. This is done by planting a lance upon the top of the grave, and fastening to it a couple of blood-stained rags, if murder has been committed, and for any other crime a broken bow. Such an appeal unites the Turkomans as one man against the offender and his tribe, and how deep an effect it has on the mind of the culprit, I saw on this occasion, for no sooner did Oraz perceive the lance fixed upon the high Yoska of his grandfather, when in the silence of the following night he led the horse back to the tent of the Mollah, and tied it to its former place. This act of restitution, as he himself told me, will pain him for a long time to come. But it is better to lie in the black earth than to have disturbed the repose of one's ancestors.