In the meantime also arrived the Kervanbashi who was to be our leader and protector in the desert. As I attached great importance to being presented to him under good auspices, I went amongst the others accompanied by Hadji Salih and Messud, who had mentioned me to him on the way. Let the reader then picture to himself my wonder and alarm when Amandurdi (such was his name), a corpulent and good-tempered Turkoman, although he greeted my friends with great distinction, received me with striking coldness; and the more Hadji Salih was disposed to turn the conversation upon me, the more indifferent he became: he confined himself to saying, 'I know this Hadji already.' I made an effort not to betray my embarrassment. I was about to withdraw, when I noticed the angry glances that Ilias, who was present, darted at the Emir Mehemmed, the crazy opium-eater, whom he thus signalised as the cause of what had just occurred.
We withdrew, and hardly had the occurrence been recounted to Hadji Bilal, when he grew angry and exclaimed, 'This wretched sot of an Afghan has already expressed himself in Etrek to the effect that our Hadji Reshid, who was able to give him instructions in the Koran and in Arabic, was only a Frenghi in disguise' (thereupon adding, three different times, the phrase Estag farullah! 'God pardon me my sins'); 'and in spite of my assuring him that we had received him from the hands of the ambassador of our great Sultan, and that he had with him a pass sealed with the seal of the Khalife, [Footnote 20] he still refuses to believe and persists in his defamation. As I remark, he has gained the ear of the Kervanbashi, but he shall repent it on our arrival in Khiva, where there are Kadis and Ulemas; we shall teach him there what the consequence is of representing a pious Musselman as an unbeliever.'
[Footnote 20: Follower of Mahomed, that is, the Sultan of Constantinople.]
I now began to understand the whole mystery. Emir Mehemmed, born at Kandahar, had, after the occupation of his native city by the English, been compelled to fly on account of some crime he had committed. He had had frequent opportunities of seeing Europeans, and had recognised me as a European by my features. Consequently, from the very first moment he regarded me as a secret emissary travelling with hidden treasures under my mendicant disguise, one whom he might succeed in plundering at any time he wished, as he would always have at his service a formidable menace, namely, 'denunciation.' Often had he counselled me to separate from those mendicants, and to join his own society; but I never omitted replying that Dervish and merchant were elements too [{88}] heterogeneous to offer any prospect of a suitable partnership; that it would be impossible to speak of sincere friendship until he had given up his vicious habit of opium-eating, and devoted himself to pious purifications and prayers. The resolute stand I took--and indeed I had no other course--made him furious; and as from his impiety he was the object of the Hadjis' aversion, I can only regard his notorious enmity as a particular instance of good fortune.
[Description of Karavan.]
About two hours after this occurrence, the Kervanbashi, who now assumed the command over the whole karavan, pointed out to us that everyone ought to fill his water-skin with water, as we should not come to another well for three days. I therefore took my goat-skin and went with the rest to the stream. Never having hitherto suffered much from the torment of thirst, I was filling it carelessly, when my colleagues repaired my error with the remark that in the desert every drop of water had life in it, and that this fount of existence should be kept by everyone as the 'apple of his eye.' The preparations completed, the camels were packed, the Kervanbashi had them counted, and we found that we possessed eighty camels, that we were forty travellers in all, amongst whom twenty-six were Hadjis without weapons, and the rest tolerably armed Turkomans of the tribe Yomut, with one Özbeg and one Afghan. Consequently we formed one of those small karavans, that set out on their way in right Oriental fashion, leaving everything to fate.
When we had all seated ourselves, we had still to take leave of our Turkoman escort, who had led us to the margin of the desert. The Fatiha of the farewell was intoned on the one side by Hadji Bilal, and on the other by Kulkhan.
After the last Amen had been said, and had been followed by the inseparable stroking of the beard, the two parties divided in contrary directions; and when our late escort had recrossed the Etrek and lost sight of us, they sent a few shots after us as a farewell. From this point we proceeded in a straight direction towards the north. For further information on the political and social relations of the Turkomans, I beg to refer the reader to the Second Part of this volume.