Among the diseases of Bokhara, the most distressing is the guinea-worm, or Dracunculus, here called “rishtu:” it is confined to the city. The inhabitants believe that the disease arises from drinking the water of the cisterns in summer, when they become fetid and infested with animalculæ. Travellers suffer as much as the inhabitants; but the disease does not show itself till the year following that on which they have drank the water. Many of the Afghans are attacked after returning to Cabool; and, whatever be the cause, it assuredly originates from something peculiar to Bokhara, since all other parts of the country are free from it. It is supposed that one fourth of the whole population of Bokhara are annually attacked with guinea-worm. This prevalence of the complaint has given the natives a dexterity of extracting them quite unknown in other countries. So soon as it is discovered that one has formed, and before any swelling has taken place, they pass a needle under the middle of the worm, and, rubbing the part, draw it out at once. They are generally successful; but if the worm breaks, the wound festers, the pain is excessive, and few recover under three months. If the animal be coiled in one place, the extraction is simple; if deep in the flesh, more difficult. If the swelling has commenced, they do not attempt the operation, but allow it to take its course, and endeavour to draw it out by degrees, as in India. These worms vary in length from three to four spans. It is said that guinea-worm is most common among people of a cold temperament; but it does not attack any particular class. The better orders of people, attributing it to the water, send to the river for their supply, and never drink that of the cisterns till it is boiled. It is not to be supposed that I can give any solution of the cause of this disease: the doctors of Toorkistan believe it to be a worm generated from the causes above-mentioned. Nor can I credit its arising from the animalculæ of the water. Another disease of the country is the “mukkom,” or “kolee,” a kind of leprosy. Kolee, a kind of leprosy. Those afflicted with it are considered unclean: it does not cover the body with spots, as in common leprosy, but the skin becomes dry and shrivelled; the hair of the body falls off, the nails and teeth tumble out, and the whole body assumes a horrible and unseemly appearance. The disease is believed to be hereditary, and to originate from food: it is fearfully prevalent in the districts of Samarcand and Meeankal; also in the neighbouring states of Shuhr Subz and Hissar; all of which are rice countries. Some state it to be caused by the use of the intoxicating spirit called “boozu,” which is distilled from black barley; but that liquor and mares’ milk are not used in Bokhara. The disease affects the general health, and is incurable. The most humane people will tell you that it is a curse from God, and drive the unfortunate sufferer from them. A separate quarter of the city is assigned for the residence of those who are afflicted, as was the case among the Jews. That scourge, the cholera morbus, has been felt in all these countries. Cholera. It appears to have taken the route of the caravans, and advanced from India step by step into eastern Europe. It raged for a year in Cabool; it then crossed Hindoo Koosh on the following season, and desolated Balkh and Koondooz. For a year it fluctuated between the valley of the Oxus and Herat; it then attacked Bokhara, Kokan, and the other Uzbek states; and, after devastating the country, passed on to Khiva, Orenburg, and Astrakhan. The faculty have discovered no remedy for the cholera morbus.

Other diseases.

The inhabitants of Toorkistan are subject to a constant dryness of the skin: many of them lose their eyelashes and eyebrows, and their skin becomes wrinkled and tawny. Whether the diet, or dryness of the climate, causes these appearances, I know not. The Uzbeks seldom eat horse-flesh; though it is believed that they live upon it. It is considered heating food, and is, besides, expensive. Mutton is preferred, and none but the lower orders eat beef. A sheep is killed, and the entire tail, however large and fat, is melted up with the meat, and cooked in a single boiler. They are fond of every thing oily, and also use much cheese and sour milk. Ophthalmia is a very common complaint in Toorkistan. Fevers are rare; in Balkh rheumatism is prevalent. In the city of Bokhara rickets are common; and the children have generally a puny and unhealthy appearance, which is not observable in the grown-up people of the country. Among their medicines, I heard of an oil extracted from the dung of sheep; which is considered a specific for the sprains, bruises, and hurts of cattle: it is very pungent, and the flies shun the parts rubbed with it. I have been assured of the bone spavins of a horse being reduced by an application of this oil. They procure it by a distilling process.

Cities and towns. Population of the kingdom.

There are no large towns in the kingdom of Bokhara, but the capital. It contains a population of about 150,000 souls. The ancient cities of Samarcand and Balkh have long since dwindled into the obscurity of provincial towns: they are both surpassed by Kurshee, which has not a population of 10,000 souls. These are the only towns in the country. There are some large villages, such as Jizzak, Kermina, and Kutkoorghan; but none of them contain above 2500 people. The villages are also few, and widely separated from one another; they amount to about four hundred: nor can I estimate the whole population of the kingdom of Bokhara at a million of human beings: and one half of this population is made up of the nomade tribes that wander in its deserts. The villages are fortified by mud walls, which are necessary for their protection. In the cultivated parts, single habitations, called “robats,” are scattered over the face of the country; and these are invariably surrounded by walls; I need not enter upon any farther account of the cities of Bokhara and Balkh, since they have been mentioned in the narrative.

CHAP. II.
THE RIVER OXUS, OR AMOO; WITH SOME NOTICE OF THE SEA OF ARAL.

Source and course of the Oxus.

The Oxus, or Amoo, is a river of considerable magnitude and classical celebrity. It was known to the Greeks under the designation of Oxus: the Asiatics call it Jihoon and Amoo. Jihoon means a flood, and is used in all the Turkish and Persian works that treat upon these countries: but the inhabitants on its banks now speak of the river under the name of Amoo, calling it “Durya-i-Amoo,” the River, or literally, the Sea of Amoo. I am not aware of any meaning that attaches to this title. The Oxus rises in the table-lands of Pamere, and is formed by a variety of rivulets which collect in that elevated region of Asia. According to the information which I have received, its source is a degree more northward and eastward than appears in Mr. Macartney’s map. It is stated that four rivers, which flow in opposite directions, issue from the vicinity of the lake Surikol: these are the Oxus, Sir or Jaxartes, one of the heads of the Indus, and a portion of the waters of Tibet. The Oxus waters the rich valley of Budukhshan, where it receives the river of that name, the greatest of its tributaries, and is afterwards joined by a variety of smaller streams from Koondooz and Hissar, which have been described by Mr. Macartney. It winds among mountains, and, approaching within twenty miles of the town of Khoolloom, and much nearer than appears in our maps, passes about half a degree to the north of Balkh. There are no hills between it and that ancient city, as have been represented. It here enters upon the desert by a course nearly N.W., fertilizes a limited tract of about a mile on either side, till it reaches the territories of Orgunje or Khiva, the ancient Kharasm, where it is more widely spread by art, and is then lost in the sea of Aral. In the latter part of its course, so great is the body of water drawn for the purposes of irrigation, and so numerous are the divisions of its branches, that it forms a swampy delta, overgrown with reeds and aquatic plants, impervious to the husbandman, and incapable of being rendered useful to man, from its unvarying humidity. I will not permit the much-disputed subject of the Oxus having terminated, at a former period, in the Caspian instead of the Aral sea, to lead me into a digression on that curious point. I have only to state, after an investigation of the subject, and the traditions related to me, as well as much enquiry among the people themselves, that I doubt the Oxus having ever had any other than its present course. There are physical obstacles to its entering the Caspian, south of Balkhan, and north of that point; its more natural receptacle is the lake of Aral. I conclude that the dry river beds between Astrabad and Khiva are the remains of some of the canals of the kingdom of Kharasm, and I am supported in this belief by the ruins near them, which have been deserted as the prosperity of that empire declined. We shall thus account for such appearances on obvious grounds, without calling in the aid of earthquakes and other commotions of nature.

The sea of Aral.