Badrudin’s “garden,” in common with all that I saw, was intersected with irrigation channels, had no paths, and was planted with a confused, ill-grown mass of fruit trees, so crowded together that his orchard produced a very indifferent crop. Flowers are usually conspicuous by their absence in these pleasaunces, although one sometimes comes across zinnias, asters and marigolds, but to me their redeeming feature was the shefang, and at Khotan the open-air parlour was a particularly large and handsome one, curtained round with muslin that ensured some privacy without excluding the air.
The trees surrounding it were the roosting-place of hundreds of small birds, and about five o’clock every evening they would appear in a large flock and a fearful squabbling would ensue, caused, I imagined, by their desire to take possession of one another’s pet twigs. After half an hour they settled down, and only a few drowsy murmurs would be heard as one bird or another made a sleepy remark.
At Khotan I was anxious to replenish our butter-jars, but fear that no one will believe me when I say that the united efforts of five cows during two days only resulted in a single pound of butter! There is no grazing in these oases, and the animals are allowed on the fields only when the crops have been gathered, their usual feed being a bundle of lucerne, fresh or dried according to the season, a meagre dietary not conducive to a plentiful supply of milk.
My brother, as in all towns, was busy in receiving and returning official visits and in settling cases, some of which had been in abeyance for years. One of these interested me particularly, as I was brought into touch with it in a way. It was concerned with righting a widow whose relatives were trying to defraud her of property that justly belonged to her, and the poor soul waylaid me as I was returning from a ride and, seizing my hand, kissed it repeatedly, with loud lamentations that went to my heart. When justice had been done, and she was reinstated, the old lady came to my brother to express her gratitude, which she evinced by kissing the hem of his riding-coat, to his great embarrassment.
I had visitors of my own, as Badrudin’s three wives, accompanied by his eldest son, wearing a suit of would-be British cut, called upon me. The chief wife was a handsome Afghan lady, her eyebrows painted with antimony in order to make them meet across her forehead, and as she spoke Persian we got on well together. She had plenty of character, and it was evident that she kept the other wives in due subjection. Despite the heat the ladies wore rich velvet jackets and had gold or silver braid on the brims of their velvet hats, and long white shawls shrouding them from head to foot. They enjoyed sampling the cakes and biscuits that I provided for tea, and liked seeing the curios that we had bought in the town, some quaint jade monkeys throwing them all into convulsions of laughter and most effectually breaking the ice between my visitors and myself. As a result I felt quite at home with them when I went next day to return their call, merely passing through a door in the wall of our garden into theirs, where I found them installed in a shabby old house very different from the gorgeous edifice in which we had our quarters, and which I suspected would be entirely reserved for the men of the household when we departed. Owing to the emigration of the men, the women, as at Kashgar and Yarkand, are in great preponderance, and here, as throughout Chinese Turkestan, the cheapness of marriage encourages frequent divorce and so lowers the status of the wives.
But, on the other hand, the women mix freely with the men, sell their wares in the bazars and practically dispense with the face-veil. It may be that the superior freedom enjoyed by the women of Khotan centuries ago has been handed down to their descendants. According to Rémusat, the Chinese writers remark again and again that the women mixed with the men even when strangers were present, and rode like the men on horses and camels. It is curious to note that over a thousand years ago the women wore the long coats and trousers and plaited their hair just as they do at the present day, the hair of yaks’ tails being used then as now to thicken and lengthen these tresses, which are adorned with gold or silver tassels.
Badrudin rode out with us one morning to see Ilchi, as the inhabitants call their city, and I thought that the people looked as sickly as those of Yarkand. Goitre was very prevalent, and there were, alas, many idiots to be seen, both the bodily and the mental afflictions being probably caused by the limited supply of water, which is kept in tanks, a sure method in the East of propagating disease.
BEGGARS AT THE GATE.
Page 212.