My acquaintance with archaeology and architecture being limited, I admit my incompetency to form any precise judgment respecting ruins, certainly of high interest, except that I believe myself justified in affirming them to be of Greek origin, because I have found the square bricks which compose them to resemble exactly, in quality, size, and colour, those of Gömüshtepe, and the Kizil Alan (Alexander's wall). [Footnote 22]
[Footnote 22: The Turkomans recounted, with respect to the ruins, that God, from especial love to the brave Turkomans, had placed the Kaaba first here instead of transporting it to Arabia, but that a green devil, who was at the same time lame, named Gökleng (green hobbler) from whom the Göklens were descended, had destroyed it. 'The insolent act of their ancestor is the reason,' added the savage etymologist, 'why we live in hostility with that tribe.']
Besides these, I remarked a group of other ruins on the north summit of the Körentaghi. We passed them by night, and as far as I could distinguish in the obscurity, there are six separate dome-like chapels still standing.
To-day our karavan was visited by crowds of the nomads dwelling on the spot. Some business was transacted, and bargains struck between the merchants and cattle-dealers of our karavan, and upon credit, too. They applied to me to draw up in writing their cheques. I was surprised to find that the debtor, instead of handing over his signature to tranquillise his creditor, put it into his own pocket; and this was the Turkoman way of arranging the whole business. When I questioned the creditor as to this remarkable manner of procedure, his answer was, 'What have I to do with the writing? The debtor must keep it by him as a reminder of his debt.'
In the evening, when we were ready to start, an event took place, for Madame Buffalo did us the honour of increasing our number by the addition of a healthy little calf, a subject of supreme delight to the Kervanbashi; and not until we were actually on the route, did it occur to him that the poor little calf was not strong enough to accompany our march on foot, and that he must search for a more commodious place for it on one of the camels. As the only kedjeve was the one occupied by Hadji Bilal and myself, all eyes were directed to us. We were asked to cede our place to the new-born calf. My friend was cunning enough at once to evince his readiness to be of service, with the observation that he would, out of friendship to me, whose lameness rendered me less easy to accommodate with a seat, vacate his own, and content himself with any exchange. Hardly had he surrendered his place to the young calf, than the extremely disagreeable smell of my new vis-à-vis betrayed to me the real [{102}] motive of my friend. By night it was endurable, as my slumbers were only disturbed by the frequent bleating of the calf; but in the daytime, particularly when the heat was very great, my situation became intolerable. Happily my torments did not last long, for the calf succumbed the second day of its ride through the desert.
[Little and Great Balkan]
From this day (May 18) we reckoned two days to the Great Balkan, and thence twelve days to Khiva (altogether fourteen days). During the whole time we should come to only four wells of bitter salt water, and should not encounter a single living human being.
As we were still in the middle of May, our leader hoped to find in the lone places some rain-water (called kák). We had filled our skins with dirty water from the miserable cistern at Körentaghi. The jolting on the backs of the camels had changed it into something very like mud, having a most nauseous taste, and yet we were obliged to make a very sparing use of it, for there was no hope of finding kák until we reached a station on the other side of the Great Balkan.
Our march, as we were now every day more inured to its hardships, began to assume great regularity. We made usually every day three halts, each of an hour and a half or two hours: the first before sunrise, when we made our bread for the whole day; the second at noon, to give man and beast the indulgence of a little repose from the scorching heat; and the third before sunset, to devour our scanty supper, consisting of the oft-mentioned bread and water, every drop of which we had to count. My friends, as well as the Turkomans, had with them supplies of sheep-fat. This they ate with their bread, and offered to me, but I was [{103}] careful not to partake of it, from the conviction that nothing but the greatest moderation could diminish the torments of thirst, and harden one to endure fatigue. The district we were now traversing consisted of a firm clay bottom, only producing here and there a few wretched plants, and forming for the most part barren ground, in which crevices, like veins, extended beyond the reach of the eye, and offered the most variegated picture. And yet how this eternal sadness of plain, from which every trace of life is banished, wearies the traveller; and what an agreeable change he finds when, arriving at the station, he is permitted to rest a few minutes from the wave-like movements of the camel!