[Departure from Gömüshtepe; Character of our late Host]
At noon the following day I left Gömüshtepe with my most intimate fellow-travellers, accompanied for some time by Khandjan and all my other friends. Kandjan went on foot with us nearly a league on our way, as is the custom amongst the nomads in the case of very esteemed guests. I entreated him several times to return, but fruitlessly; he insisted upon punctually fulfilling all the rules of ancient Turkoman hospitality, that I might never afterwards have any ground of complaint against him. To say the truth, my heart was very heavy when I extricated myself from his last embrace, for I had known in him one of the most honourable of men. Without any interested motive, he had not only for a long time entertained me and five other pilgrims in his own [{71}] house, but had given me every explanation that I had required. I feel even now pained that I cannot make him any return for his kindness, but still more that I was forced to deceive so sincere a friend by any mystery.
[Turkoman Mounds or Tombs; Disagreeable Adventure with Wild Boars]
Our path was north-easterly, departing more and more from the sea-shore, in the direction of the two great mounds, of which one bears the name of Köresofi, the other that of Altin Tokmak. Besides these mounds, one discovers here and there numerous Joszka (Turkoman barrows); with these exceptions, the district is one boundless flat. Scarcely a quarter of a league from Gömüshtepe, we found ourselves proceeding through splendid meadows, where the grass was as high as the knee, and of a delicious odour. It all withers away without being of service to any one, for the inhabitants of Gömüshtepe are Tchomru (that is, not cattle-breeders). What lovely villages might flourish in this well-watered district; what animated life might here reign, instead of the stillness of death! Our small karavan, consisting of the camels belonging to Ilias and of six horses, kept close together, for Kulkhan affirmed that there were hereabouts Karaktchis who were not under his orders, and who would assail him if they felt themselves strong enough to do so. Ilias, this once, was pleased to spare me my ride upon the camel; he took from Kulkhan one of the stolen horses, upon which I was to ride as far as Etrek. Unfortunately, as it happened, Emir Mehemmed, the Afghan opium-eater from Karatepe, who had already fastened himself upon our karavan, had remained on foot, and whenever we had to traverse any puddle or other wet ground, I could not refuse to take him on my saddle, and then he grasped my clothes so tightly that I often [{72}] thought I should be thrown down. This partnership ride made me run much risk when we were obliged to cut our way through the great marshes, covered with reeds, which swarmed with herds of wild boars, numerous beyond conception. Kulkhan and Ilias rode before, to find a circuitous way, to enable us to avoid hundreds of these animals, whose proximity we perceived, not only by their incessant grunting, but more especially by the cracking sound caused by their movements amongst the reeds. Whilst I was riding on with attentive ear, my horse suddenly shied and took a great bound sideways. I had hardly time to look round to ascertain the cause, when I and my comrade lay stretched upon the ground. The loud laughter of my companions, who were a few paces from us, mingled with a strange howling. I turned myself round, and found that I had been thrown upon two wild boars of tender age; it was their mother that had caused our horse to shy, but now, rendered savage by the cry of her young ones, she stood showing her tusks at no great distance from us, and would most certainly have charged us, had not Shirdjan, the cousin of Ilias, come to our aid, and barred the way with his extended lance. Whether it was owing to the bravery of the young Turkoman, or the silence of the young pigs--now liberated from their constrained position--I cannot say, but the incensed mother beat a retreat, and, with her face still to the foe, hastened back to her lair, which we had not been slow to abandon. Kulkhan's son had in the meantime secured our horse, that had escaped. He restored him to me with the remark that 'I might regard myself as lucky, for that a death by the wound of a wild boar would send even the most pious Musselman nedjis (unclean) [{73}] into the next world, where a hundred years' burning in purgatorial fire would not purge away his uncleanness.'
Intruding upon the Haunts of the wild Boar.
[Plateau to the North of Gömüshtepe; Nomad Habits]
After having continued our way for about four hours in the above-named direction, amidst marshes and meadows, I noticed that we had gained the sloping sides of the plateau that extends north from Gömüshtepe, for not only the elevations, but the Persian mountains on the frontiers themselves, began gradually to disappear; only a few groups of tents, in the vicinity of which camels were grazing, were visible at a great distance, and although, on all the four sides, the most lovely verdure enchanted the eye, the eastern district which I had visited before with Kizil Akhond, is far more thickly peopled. There being no river like the Görghen, the well-water, of which the people make use, is exhausted by the time the rich meadows have sufficiently fattened their sheep. Tents, consequently, are only to be seen here in May and in June. One of these groups of tents, peopled by the dependents of Kulkhan, was to give us shelter this night, as Etrek was still six miles [Footnote 17] distant--a whole day's journey for our heavily-laden camels. Due notice had been given of our approach, and my hungry fellow-travellers soon saw in the rising smoke the prospect of a good supper. Although Gömüshtepe is only four miles distant from this spot, the journey took us nearly eight hours, and this first ride had tolerably wearied both man and beast.
[Footnote 17: The reader is requested to understand, here and elsewhere, German miles.]