At last, having got all ready for our journey, we gradually assembled in the well-shaded court of Töshebaz. I was able that day for the first time fully to appreciate the influence that the pious charity of the Khivites had exercised upon our mendicant karavan. It was only in the case of the more stingy that we could discern any traces of their former rags: in the place of the torn felt caps, worn amongst the Yomuts, my friends had donned the snow-white turban; all the knapsacks were better filled; and what was most pleasing to see was, that even the poorest of the pilgrims had now his small ass to ride upon. My [{145}] position was greatly changed, for I had the use of an ass, and half a share in a camel too; the former I was to ride, the latter I was to employ for the transport of my travelling bag containing my clothes (in the strict plural sense), a few MSS. I had purchased, and my provisions. I no longer carried, as I had done in the desert, merely black flour; but white Pogatcha (small cakes baked in the fat of mutton), rice, butter, and even sugar. I still preferred retaining the same dress. True I had come into possession of a shirt, but I took care not to put it on; it might have rendered me effeminate, and it was too soon to indulge in any such luxury.
From Khiva to Bokhara we had the option between three routes, (a) by Hezaresp and Fitnek, crossing the Oxus at Kükurtli; (b) by Khanka and Shurakhan on its right bank, with two days of desert from the Oxus to Karaköl; and (c) up the river by water, and then, disembarking at Eltchig, proceeding through the desert to Karaköl.
As we had decided to go by land, our Kervanbashi's Tadjik from Bokhara, named Aymed, left it to us to choose between the first two ways. We had, in company with a dealer in clothes from Khiva, hired the camels from Aymed, and the latter had recommended us the route by Khanka as, at this period of the year, the safest and easiest.
It was on a Monday late in the afternoon when we suspended the functions of conferrers of blessings, and extricated ourselves from the embraces that seemed as if they never would end, and quitted Khiva by the Ürgendj gate. Many, whose zeal was transcendental, ran for half a league after us; their feeling of devotion forced tears from their eyes, and full of [{146}] despair we heard them exclaim, 'Who knows when Khiva will again have the great good fortune to harbour in her walls so many pious men!' My colleagues, seated up aloft on their camels, were not again disturbed; but I, on my ass below, was repeatedly visited with active evidence of their friendship, until even my steed could no longer endure it, and, to my great delight, galloped of with me: and it was not until I was far beyond their reach that I thought it proper to recommend him greater steadiness. I was obliged, however, to tug a long time at the reins before I could induce my long-eared hippogriff to change his headlong career into a more sober yet still somewhat rapid trot; when I sought to moderate this still further, he began to show temper, and, for the first time, emitted a distracting cry, the richness, pliancy, and fulness of which I should have preferred criticising at a little farther distance.
We passed the first night in Godje, distant two miles from Khiva. In spite of its insignificance it possesses a Kalenterkhane (quarters for Dervishes); we meet with such in Khiva and Khokand, even in the smallest hamlets. Hence to Khanka we traversed a country uninterruptedly under cultivation: along the whole way we saw excellent mulberry trees; and as my ass continued of good courage, and kept his place in advance of the karavan, I had time in passing to regale myself with berries as large and as thick as my thumb.
Still keeping the lead, I was the first to reach Khanka; it was the weekly market. I dismounted at the Kalenterkhane at the furthermost end of the town, situated upon the bank of a rivulet, and, as usual, well shaded by poplar and elm trees.
I found here two half-naked Dervishes on the point of swallowing down their noonday dose of opium; they offered me a little portion also, and were astonished to find me decline. They then prepared tea for me, and whilst I drank it, they took their own poisonous opiate, and in half an hour were in the happy realms; then, although I saw in the features of one slumberer traces of internal gladness, I detected in those of the other convulsive movements picturing the agony of death.
I should have liked to remain, to hear from their own lips on awaking an account of their dreams; but our karavan was just then passing, and I was obliged to join it, for as it takes hardly an hour to reach the bank of the Oxus from here, time was important if, as we intended, we were to cross the same day. Unluckily for us, this part of the way was very bad; we did not get out of the mud and marshy ground until evening was drawing in; and we consequently determined to pass the night in the open air on the bank of the river.
The breadth of the Oxus was here so great that both banks were hardly distinguishable at the same time; this was probably owing to the season, for its waters were swollen, and covered a greater surface from the abundant supplies it had received in the spring. Its yellow waves and tolerably rapid current presented a spectacle not without interest to my eye. The nearer bank is crowned far away to the horizon with trees, and with farms. One discovers on the further side also of the river, far in the interior, marks of cultivation, and towards the north the Ovëis Karaayne mountain appears like a cloud suspended perpendicularly from heaven. The water of the [{148}] Oxus in its proper bed is not so drinkable as in the canals and cuttings, where by its long passage the sand has had time to settle. In this place the water grits under the teeth, just as if you had taken a bite of a sand cake, and it must be allowed to stand some moments before it can be used. As for its quality of sweetness and good flavour, the inhabitants of Turkestan are of opinion that there is no river on the earth comparable to it, not even the Nile, Mubarek (the blessed). At first I thought that this good flavour proceeded rather from fancy wrought up to a fit of enthusiasm on reaching its banks after having traversed the thirsty waterless desert. But no, the idea is founded on error; and I must admit myself that, as far as my experience of water extends, I have never found river or source that yielded any so precious as that of the Oxus.