NARRATIVE.
CHAPTER XII.
JOURNEY IN THE DESERT OF THE TOORKMUNS.
Journey to the Oxus.
At midday, on the 16th of August, we commenced our march on the Oxus, which was about twenty-seven miles distant. After journeying for ten miles, we halted in the evening at a small village, and set out at midnight for the river, under a bright moon. Sand hills. For a great part of the night our route led us among vast fields of soft sand, formed into ridges which exactly resembled, in colour and appearance, those on the verge of the ocean. The belt of these sand-hills, which lie between Bokhara and the Oxus, varies in breadth from twelve to fifteen miles. They were utterly destitute of vegetation. There was a remarkable uniformity in their formation; the whole of them preserved the shape and form of a horse-shoe, the outer rim presenting itself to the north, the direction from which the winds of this country blow. On this side the mounds sloped, while the interior of the figure was invariably precipitous; but loose sand will ever take its position from the prevailing winds. None of the hills exceeded the height of fifteen or twenty feet, and they all rested on a hard base. The wind was high, and the particles of sand moved from one mound to another, wheeling in the eddy or interior of the semicircle, and having now and then, particularly under the rays of the sun, much the look of water; an appearance, I imagine, which has given rise to the opinion of moving sands in a desert. The thermometer, which had risen to 100°, fell at night to 70° among the sand-hills; and I have always observed that the vicissitudes of cold and heat are greatest among sand. About an hour after the sun had risen, we exchanged this dreary route for verdant fields, irrigated by the Oxus; and, after winding among them for about four miles, encamped on the verge of the river, where we hid ourselves from the sun’s rays under the panniers of our camels.
Freezing of the Oxus.
We had come down upon the Oxus at Betik, which is opposite to Charjooee, and one of the greatest ferries between Persia and Toorkistan. There was, therefore, every facility for crossing, and the beasts and baggage were thrown into boats, and soon transported to the opposite bank. The farmer of the customs killed his sheep, and invited most of the merchants to partake of his fare. He enquired very particularly regarding us, and requested a sight of our passport. He then waited on us in person with a couple of melons and some cakes, which we sat down and enjoyed along with him and his party on the banks of the river, and, I believe, mutually amused each other. This individual mentioned, in the course of conversation, that the Oxus had been last year frozen over from shore to shore, and that the caravans passed it on the ice. This is rather an unfrequent occurrence, and gave rise to a grave point of discussion and decision for the Mahommedan doctors. The farmer had agreed to pay 100 tillas a month, as the rent of his ferry; but since the river was passable on the ice, his boats were useless, and he lost by the farm. He proceeded to Bokhara, and urged his case to the king, requesting at the same time his royal sanction to levy a tax on the travellers. “That is impossible,” said his majesty and his advisers, “unless the farmer consents to become answerable for the blood-money of any person who may fall through the ice and perish.” The learned reply of the king is applauded for its wisdom, and met with the approbation of every person but the farmer himself, who had to pay the full amount of his contract. I will observe, first, that, as the contractor is not answerable for the lives of passengers in his boat, he could not be answerable for them on the ice. Secondly, that, since he contracted with the king for the twelve months, he should either have been relieved from payment during the time of the freezing of the river, or, at all events, allowed to levy a toll on the passengers. The law, however, is fruitful of interpretation in every country; and the King of Bokhara, while he protected his treasury from loss, had likewise the credit of appearing solicitous about the lives of the faithful.
Meanness of native traders.
As we were preparing to embark, I had an example of the meanness of native traders, of which I have had before and since many concurring proofs. Our boat had no horses to drag it across, and it was proposed that we should hire them; to which I gave a ready assent, saying, that we should be happy to contribute our share of the expense. The reply was unsatisfactory, since they wished we should bear it all; but this was peremptorily refused, and we embarked without the horses, though the share of each person would not have amounted to a quarter of a rupee, and one of the merchants possessed goods that were valued at 3000 tillas. From terror, they were not so sparing of the name of the Deity, while on the water, as, on land, they had been of their money; but these invocations cost them nothing, and the horses would have reduced their profits. The merchants of this country have none of the liberal notions of the same class of people in Europe; and I am disposed to attribute it to their superintending in person the sale of their goods, and witnessing every outlay which is incurred on their account. We crossed the Oxus in safety, without horses; and I did not regret the opportunity that had presented itself; to show our fellow-voyagers that we were as poor in our purses as in our dress and condition. One individual, a Persian, actually sickened at the thought of crossing the Jihoon without horses, and transferred himself to another boat with oars, where he gave the sailors the bribe of a rupee to row him speedily across. He arrived, with a pale face, to receive our congratulations on his bravery; but this individual turned out, in the end, one of our best friends.
The Oxus.