However painful and heartrending separation from home may be when so long and dangerous a journey has to be undertaken, the joy which the Hadjis experienced on their return fully counterbalances it. Friends and relations, informed of his near arrival, go out to meet them several days in advance. Hymns are sung, and tears of joy are shed when the Hadji makes his entry into his native place. Every one wants to embrace him, to touch him, for the atmosphere of holy places still surrounds him, the dust of Mekka and Medina still covers his garments. In Central Asia the Hadji is held in much greater esteem than in any other Mohammedan country. It has cost him much to obtain his dignity, but he is amply repaid. Respected and supported by his fellow citizens he is better protected against the tyranny of the Government than any other citizen. The title of a "Hadji" is a patent of nobility, which, during his lifetime, he parades on his seal, after death on his tombstone.
The Hadjis, of course such as are not mere beggars, often transact, during their pious pilgrimage, a little commercial business. "Hem tidjared hem ziaret."—"Commerce and pilgrimage together" are not allowed by their religion; but nobody seems to suffer any pricks of conscience in taking to his co-religionist in Arabia a few articles from distant Turkomania. The products of Bokhara and other holy places of Central Asia are in high esteem amongst the people of Arabia; besides, every one wishes to show a Hadji some favour, and is easily induced to pay double the value for any article offered. This small trade is carried on between the easternmost point of Islamitic Asia to the Galata bridge of Constantinople. Amongst the crowd of that famous capital one often sees a Tartar, whose features contrast as strangely with the rest of the population as the colours of the thin silk kerchief differ from those of our European manufacture. Fine ladies seldom become purchasers of such articles, but old matrons are frequently seen, inspired by feelings of piety, paying a good price for them, pressing them repeatedly to their faces and forehead while repeating a loud "Allahum u Sella," and continuing their walk.
That the successful sale of the exported articles leads to the importation of similar merchandize needs no confirmation. No Hadji leaves the holy places without making some purchases. At Mekka he lays in a stock of scents, dates, rosaries and combs, but especially water from the sacred well called Zemzem.[8] In Jamba and Djedda are bought European goods; these go by the name of Mali Istambul—"Stamboul Goods;" as the unbelieving Franks must not obtain credit for anything, and they consist of penknives, scissors, needles, thimbles, &c. Aleppo and Damascus enjoy the reputation of supplying the best misvak, a fibrous root, used as tooth brushes by all pious Moslems. In Bagdad are bought a hirka, made of camel's hair, and of superior quality at this place, as it is this kind of garment which the Prophet is said to have worn next his skin. Finally, in Persia, ink, powder and pens made of canes are purchased. In Central Asia all these articles are great curiosities, and they are paid for handsomely, partly from necessity, partly from religious motives.
Generally speaking a caravan of Hadjis, I mean one whose character has been well inquired into, are the best travelling companions one can have in Central Asia, or rather in the whole of the east, provided one can manage to agree with them. With regard to the travelling necessaries the Hadji is well supplied, and it was always surprising to me to see how a man who had only one poor donkey he could call his own, could make a display of a separate tea-service[9] (à la Tartar,) Pilou-apparatus, and carpet when arrived at the station at which we halted. Nobody is more clever than a Hadji in negotiating, be the people he has to deal with believers or unbelievers, nomads or agricultural tribes. A Hadji may be converted into anything, he being thoroughly penetrated by the principle "Si fueris Romae." Instead of being cast down and gloomy, as his ragged exterior would lead us to suppose, he is of a merry disposition, and during the long marches the greatest saint and miracle-worker occasionally indulges in a profane joke. The comicality of these generally serious faces has often made me forget the privations which I was myself undergoing.
CHAPTER II.
RECOLLECTIONS OF MY DERVISH LIFE.
On the evening of the 27th of March, 1863, my excellent friend, the Turkish ambassador in Teheran, gave me a farewell supper, at which all declared—to inspire me, of course with fear, and divert me from my adventurous undertaking,—that I was for the last time in my life to enjoy European food in the European manner. The handsome dining room at the residence of the ambassador was brilliantly lighted, the choicest viands were served, and the choicest wines handed round; for the intention was clear,—to give me a strong dose of reminiscences of European comforts on the difficult expedition before me. My friends were for ever scrutinizing my features, to discover whether my outward appearance might not betray some trace of inward excitement. But they were very much mistaken. I had ensconced myself comfortably in the velvet arm chair, which had been brought thither from the distant land of the Franks; the wine had tinged my face with the same colour as the fez which covered my head. A pious dervish and wine—what a frightful antithesis! To-night, however, I must transgress, the penance will be a long one, whether or no....
Twenty-four hours later, in the evening of the 28th of March, I was in the midst of my company of beggars on the road to Lar, in a half-dilapidated mud hut, called Dagaru. The rain was pouring in torrents. We had been pretty well wetted through during our day's march, so that all were anxious for shelter and a dry roof; and, the space being narrow, fate brought me the very first evening into the closest contact with my travelling companions. Their tattered garments, never very sweet-scented, and now thoroughly soaked with the rain, gave out the strangest evaporations; and no wonder if, under such circumstances, I had no great desire to take my share out of the large wooden bowl, from which the starved Hadjis, splashing about with their fists, were eating their supper. Moreover, hunger tormented me less than fatigue and my wet, ragged garments, to which I was as yet unaccustomed. Rolled up like a ball, I tried to get to sleep; but this also was impossible, packed together as we were in such close quarters. Now I felt the hand, now the head of one of my neighbours, falling upon me; then my opposite companion stretched out his foot, to scratch me behind the ears. It required the patience of Job to defend myself against these unpleasant civilities; and yet I might have had some sleep, but for the loud snoring of the Tartars, and above all the loud moaning of a Persian muleteer, who was sadly troubled with the gout.