Toorkmun discipline.
Four miles from Boojnoord, we left the valley in which it is situated, and entered among hills. It was difficult to trace any range either to our right or left, but those on the south were covered with pine trees. The climate was moist and pleasant, and there were many rich and beautiful spots of cultivation among the bare hills. The vineyards of Sarewan, which were in a deep glen, are quite enchanting. Though the country was mountainous, the road was excellent; and, after a march of thirty-six miles, we reached Kila Khan, in the district of Simulghan, which is richly watered from the hills. We were now upon the line of inroad of the Tuka Toorkmuns, who engage in constant forays between Meshid and Tehran; and the mountains and roads over which we trod must ever be crossed by them. Our own party, however, consisted of two hundred Toorkmuns of the Goklan and Yamood tribe, who had served in the Prince’s army, and were now discharged: such was their share of the glories of the Khorasan campaign. We had had a specimen of their native propensities in our second march from the camp, where they met a party of villagers proceeding to sell their grapes. The poor peasants were mercilessly beaten, and the Toorkmuns pillaged the greater portion of the contents of their baskets. By the laws of an enlightened country, they might not have been blameable, if they were actually in want of food. The spoil was shared equally among them, and he who had knocked down fared no better than he who was in the rear: they even brought me a share of the captured property. It was in vain that the Khan endeavoured to discountenance these practices, for he possessed no authority over them. At length they received a salutary check at Sarewan, where the villagers turned out in a body, and knocked down a trespasser, which frightened his comrades. I secretly rejoiced at their discomfiture.
Travelling in Khorasan.
What a long Fursukh is that of Khorasan, says a traveller, who has toiled from sun-rise nearly to sun-set, and who can no longer cling to his jaded horse, but by the prong in front of his saddle. An European, who canters and gallops onwards, can form no just conception of the fatigue of a forty-mile stage in Khorasan, where every step must be walked, and there is no inn or refreshment at the end of it. “By the head of the Prophet!” said one of the party, as we neared our halting ground, “this road is longer than the entrails of Omar, for my back and my knees have lost their feeling.” I had a hearty laugh at the quaint comparison, and also sympathized in his fatigue. “Pidr sokhtu!” (Burn his father!) continued the talkative Persian, “I never was so worn out.” In our party we had several lively fellow-travellers; and, on a few days’ acquaintance, the Persian appeared to me a better sort of being in his country than abroad, where his vanity is beyond endurance.
Tribe of Gireilee.
A march of thirty-eight miles brought us to the site of a village called Shahbaz; but we had now lost all traces of inhabitants, though the country was rich. The tribe of Gireilee had in former years tilled the soil, and tended their cattle: but human beings appear to be considered in these countries as much property as horse-flesh; and Aga Mahommed Khan had transferred the whole race to Mezenderan. The rich pastures of the country lay neglected: for what peasant would seek his abode near the Tuka Toorkmuns, whose tents lie but a few miles distant beyond the hills. In the society of two hundred of these people, we even did not feel ourselves altogether safe. In all our bivouacs, I had hitherto escaped the damp ground as a bed, but I rose in the morning stiff and benumbed by humidity and dews. The sun soon dried my clothes, and good spirits (I do not mean brandy) prevented any evil consequences. We were now travelling among mountains, with alternate hill and dale, and over a wild and romantic country. There were a few stunted pine trees on the hills, but they were oftener bare of every thing but grass. All the people were kind and conversable; and man requires little else even in the arid regions of Khorasan.
A Toorkmun acquaintance.
A Toorkmun who had proffered his acquaintance, by the way asked me abruptly to tell him the news of Bokhara, recognising, I suppose, in my costume the dress of that country. He addressed me in Persian, which was no doubt as foreign a language to him as myself. “I am a Firingee,” said I; when the Toorkmun pulled up his horse, and said, “Come, do not think you can play the fool with me, for Firingees have no beards; and your shaved head and dress belie your assertion.” It was in vain that I continued to convince him of my real character. “Soonee, or Shiah, which are you?” said he. “Be it so,” replied I, “since you are determined to have me a Mahommedan;” and I repeated the names of the first four Caliphs, the watchword of the Soonees and Toorkmuns, who are all of that persuasion. “Bravo!” cried my new acquaintance; “I knew I was right;” and we journeyed together with great delight, I personating a character which had been forced upon me: nor was it sufficient that my creed was settled; the Toorkmun also fixed my country, which was Cabool. I did not allow the opportunity to pass which thus presented itself of improving my knowledge of the Toorkmuns, whose lands we were once more to enter.
Running down partridges.
My friend dashed off with great precipitation among a crowd of his countrymen, to run down a “kubk,” or partridge, which rose near us. This is an easier matter than would be at first imagined, as the number captured soon proved. These birds fly once or twice, seldom thrice, and are then picked up. The Toorkmuns were delighted with the sport, and I participated in their excitement, though I did not join in it. The long spears with which they were armed, their great activity, and the horsemanship which they displayed, gave what I imagined to be a just resemblance to their “chupao,” when in search of human beings. At a gallop, a Toorkmun cavalier leans forward on his saddle, which gives him an air of eagerness that is singularly interesting. The whole scene was worthy of the ancient Parthia, the very country that we now traversed.