Finding that all endeavours to close my eyes remained unsuccessful, I rose and sat upright in the midst of this mass of people, who were lying about in the most utter confusion. The rain kept falling, and, as I looked out into the dark and gloomy night, my thoughts returned to the difference in my position only twenty-four hours before, and the sumptuous farewell supper at the splendid Turkish embassy. The whole scene appeared to me not unlike a dramatic representation of "King and Beggar," in which I acted the chief part. The bitter feeling of reality, however, made little impression. I myself was the author of this sudden metamorphosis, and I had prepared my fate for myself.
The hard task of self-control lasted but a few days. As far as all outward peculiarities were concerned, I soon became familiar with the habitual as well as physical attributes of dervishism, such as dirt, &c. I gave my better garments, which I had brought with me from Teheran, to a weak and sickly Hadji, an act of kindness which gained all hearts. My new uniform consisted of a felt jacket, which I wore next my skin without any shirt, and of a djubbe (upper garment),[10] composed of innumerable pieces of stuff, and fastened with a cord round the loins. My feet were enveloped in rags, and an immense turban covered my head, serving as a parasol by day and pillow by night. I had also, in conformity with the rest of the Hadjis, hung round me a voluminous Koran in a bag, which resembled a cartridge pouch; and, viewing myself thus, "en pleine parade," I had reason proudly to exclaim: "Yes, indeed, I am born a beggar!"
The outer or material part of the incognito was thus easily assumed, but the moral part presented more serious difficulties than I expected. Although I had had the opportunity, for some years past, of studying the contrast between European and Asiatic modes of life, and the critical position in which I found myself made it incumbent upon me ever to be strictly on my guard, nevertheless, I could not avoid committing many glaring mistakes. The difference between Eastern and Western society does not consist merely in language, physiognomy, and dress. We Europeans eat, drink, sleep, sit, and stand, nay, I feel inclined to say, laugh, weep, sigh, and gesticulate otherwise than Eastern people. These things are visible trifles, but in reality difficult ones, and yet they are as nothing when compared with the effort required to disguise one's feelings. When travelling, people are naturally of a more eager and excitable temperament than in everyday life, and therefore it costs the European an unspeakable effort to conceal his curiosity, admiration, or any kind of emotion, when brought into intercourse with the indolent orientals, who are for ever indifferent to all and everything around them. Besides, the object of my travelling was merely to travel, whilst that of my friends was to reach their distant homes. My individual person excited their interest only during the first moments of our acquaintance, while to me they were each a continual study; and it certainly can never have entered the head of any one of them that, whenever we laughed and joked most intimately together my mind would just then be doubly occupied. No one but he who is practically acquainted with the East, can have any idea of the difficulty of entering into all these marked differences. I had been pretty well schooled by a four years' residence at Constantinople; yet there I played merely the part of an amateur, whilst here I dared not deviate even a hair's breadth from reality. Nay, I will make no secret of the fact, that during the first few days the struggle, though short, was severe, and that repentance and remorse seized me at every fresh difficulty. However, my mind, being stimulated by vanity, was in that state of excitement when everything had to give way before the irresistible impulse of its ardour; and, supported in its triumph by a sound constitution, it was enabled to bear easily whatever might happen.
I shudder even now when I think back of the fatigue I underwent during the first few days, and how much I suffered from the wet and cold, the uncleanliness—which makes one's hair stand on end—and the never-ending, harassing worry with the fanatic Shiites, during our long and tedious day-marches in Mazendran, a part of the world of historical reputation for its bad roads. Sometimes it rained from early in the morning until late in the evening, and, whilst not a thread of my tattered garments remained dry, I was moreover obliged to wade for hours knee-deep in mud. The narrow mountain-path has become hollow by the wear of centuries, and in many places it resembles a muddy brook, winding along between huge fragments of pointed rock that have fallen from the heights above. It is a sheer impossibility to remain in the saddle; and, in order to avoid danger, the best course is to tread slowly and cautiously, sounding the hollows with one's foot. No one will doubt that, under such circumstances, we arrived at the station at nightfall thoroughly exhausted and fatigued. Fire and shelter are the chief objects of desire, for which the eye looks longingly around. They both exist in Mazendran; but we, the Sunnitic beggars, had preferred, for the sake of quiet, to pass the night undisturbed and far from any human dwelling. A fire was kindled, to dry ourselves and our clothes, when the elder of our Tartar fellow-travellers observed, that such a proceeding would be prejudicial to health; and, indeed, they always preferred to dry themselves in another and more singular fashion. It is well known that, throughout the East, horse dung is dried and then ground into powder, to serve as stabling for the horses by night. During the day it is exposed to the sun, either spread out or made into conical-shaped heaps; and I was not a little astonished to see how my companions, divesting themselves entirely of their apparel, buried their soaked bodies up to the neck in such like poudre de santé. I need not add, that contact with this poudre, so well known as strong and stinging, cannot be very agreeable; but its effects are only felt during the first quarter of an hour, and I can assert, from my subsequent personal experience, that such a bed induces a most sweet and refreshing sleep, however it may offend the European eye and sense of refinement.
In spite of the drawbacks, I should have felt quite contented with my lot had it not been that, besides these fatigues common to all, an extra share was allotted to me, being a stranger in the company. As such, it was my duty to affect the qualities of modesty and devotion, to show myself not only friendly, but submissive, to all; and to endeavour to conciliate the affection of old and young, by professing an obliging disposition, and a readiness to perform any kind of small service. At first these offers were declined by most of them, since they did not wish to offend in me the character of "efendi," having made my acquaintance as such. However, it was my duty in no case to yield, but on the contrary, to strive continually to make myself useful to one or the other. Besides the minor services I performed on the march, I had to try to be helpful to every one at the station, either by preparing tea and baking bread, or by looking after the riding horses, or by packing and unpacking. Some of my companions were obliging to me in return for my attention, but others, who soon had forgotten my former position, treated me like an old fellow-traveller. Services were demanded and performed without the smallest ceremony; and I could not help laughing heartily, when a Hadji from Khokand once coolly handed me his shirt for me to free it from the many "uninvited guests," he being fully occupied in like manner on another part of his costume.
It was to be foreseen that in this way an entente cordiale would speedily ripen between us. The more I accommodated myself to my present position, forgetting the past, the quicker also disappeared the barrier between me and the other Hadjis. The society of others exercises a powerful influence upon us, uniting as it does the most opposite elements; and after I had lived for a whole month as dervish, all appeared to me not only natural and endurable, but the charm of novelty in the life around me had actually effaced Teheran, Stamboul, and Europe, from my memory; and the continual excitement in which I lived had produced in me a state of mind which was extraordinary, it is true, but never disagreeable.
One feeling alone disquieted me: this was the fear of discovery, or, rather, of its consequences,—the terrible death of torture which Tartar cruelty and offended Mahometan fanaticism would have invented for my punishment. Already during the first days of my residence with the Turkomans I became aware that, in assuming my incognito, I was playing a dangerous game; and, but for the unlimited confidence I placed in the fidelity of my companions, and my own preparations, this spectre would have haunted me every moment of my existence. During the greater part of the day, society, occupation, and events of various interest prevented the intrusion of these suspicions; but at night, when everything around was hushed in silence, and I sat alone in a solitary corner of my tent, or in the waste and barren desert, I became absorbed in thought. Fear appeared before me in its blackest guise and most terrible aspect; nor would it leave me for a long, long time, however much I attempted to dispel it by sophistry or light-heartedness. Oh, this terrible Megæra! How she tormented me, how she tortured me, at those very moments when, seeking repose, I was about to lose myself in contemplation on the grandeur of nature and the wonderful constitution of man. In the long struggle between us, fear was finally subdued; but it is this very struggle, which I now blush to remember; for it is marvellous what efforts are required to grow familiar with the constant and visible prospect of death, and how great the anxiety in seeing only a doubtful foundation for the hope of one's further existence.
No one, I am sure, will blame me for acting with precaution, nay, at first, with scrupulous precaution; but often it degenerated into ridiculous extremes. I was, for instance, conscious of my habit of gesticulating with the hands when speaking,—a habit peculiar to many Europeans, but strictly forbidden in Central Asia;—and, fearing lest I might commit this mistake, I adopted a coercive remedy. I pretended to suffer from pains in the arms, and strapping them down to the body, they soon lost the habit of involuntary movement. In like manner I seldom ventured to make a hearty meal late in the evening, for fear of being troubled with heavy dreams, which might cause me to speak some foreign, European language. I laugh now at my pusillanimity, for I might have remembered that the Tartars, being unacquainted with European languages, would not have noticed it; and yet I rather bore in mind the words of my companions, who observed one morning with great naïveté, that my snoring sounded differently from that of the Turkestanis, whereupon another interrupted and informed him: "Yes; thus people snore in Constantinople."