The following day we passed the Sea of Aral, with masted ships riding at anchor in its port; and by now all traces of snow had gone, and the sandy steppe was scantily dotted with coarse grasses. Sometimes we traversed stretches of salt-encrusted ground, and in places the rolling sand-dunes were planted and bound together with rushes in order to prevent them from encroaching upon the railway, or long lines of fencing answered the same purpose for the snowdrifts.
We saw few signs of life, and the loneliness of the steppe made me realize something of those vast empty spaces of Asia which from lack of water will for ever be dreary wastes forsaken by mankind. Yet a picturesque crowd was usually assembled at the stations. Hairless-faced men with high cheek-bones were clad in long padded coats reaching to their heels, or wore sheepskins, their rope or straw-soled shoes being tied with leather thongs criss-cross from knee to ankle over thick woollen stockings. Among a variety of headgear the quaintest resembled early Victorian coal-scuttle bonnets tied under the chin. They were made of brightly coloured velvet, with broad fur-lined brims, a fur-lined flap behind and lappets over the ears, and looked most comical when worn by brawny Kirghiz, who strode up and down the platforms trailing long whips in their hands.
The warm weather was now beginning, and the Russian women who sold tea and hot water from big brass samovars had discarded their winter clothes and appeared in flowered cotton dresses with gaily coloured handkerchiefs over their heads. Their children were running about barefoot, and I was amused at watching an encounter between a lightly clad urchin and a smart little boy who was travelling in our overheated train. This latter, who had a long fur-lined coat, a fur cap and galoshes over his boots, held up his foot for the admiration of the platform youngster, who laughed good-humouredly, and stretched out his dusty toes in response.
In spite of the warm sunshine, ours were the only windows open in the whole train, and when, after leaving Samara, my brother had obtained fresh air by freely tipping a most reluctant conductor, an official higher in rank came to enquire whether it was not a mistake and whether after all we did not wish to be screwed up again! I could not imagine why our fellow-passengers did not follow our example, because, before we reached Tashkent, the sun flamed down from a cloudless blue sky; the hoopoe, harbinger of spring, chased its mate; the crested larks sang, and the children offered big bunches of the little mauve iris. Ploughing was visible in places, and a faint green flush was spreading over the vast plain, which near Tashkent gave way to grassy downs on which cattle grazed.
At the imposing-looking station of Turkestan we made enquiries respecting the flags that we noticed hanging out on all the platforms, and to our joy were told that they were in honour of the taking of Przemyzl. An officer of military police with whom my brother talked, said that this victory had come at an opportune moment, as there was considerable unrest among the native population.
We were sorry not to see the tomb erected by Tamerlane in the old city of Turkestan to the memory of a Kirghiz saint, for M. Romanoff, an authority on Mohamedan art, who has visited a large proportion of the mosques and shrines of Central Asia, considers this splendid building to be a masterpiece.
CHAPTER II
BEYOND THE TIAN SHAN TO KASHGAR
Farghana is a country of small extent, but abounding in grain and fruits; and it is surrounded with hills on all sides except on the west.... Andijan is the capital. The district abounds in birds and beasts of game. Its pheasants are so fat that the report goes that four persons may dine on the broth of one of them and not be able to finish it.—Memoirs of Baber.
After three days and nights in the train it was pleasant to make a halt at Tashkent, the capital of Russian Turkestan, though the sudden change of climate was somewhat exhausting. It was towards the end of March, and the whole town, famous for its fruit trees, was embowered in pink and white blossom, and the avenues of magnificent poplars, willows and beautiful Turkestan elms were shaking out their fresh green leaves.