About ten o’clock I fell in with two soldiers walking to Verney (some six hundred miles), their guns and knapsacks having gone before by wagon. They reckoned they would be more than a month on the road. No doubt they would march the journey in better style with a whole column, but as it was they were inclined to stop every two hundred yards and take off their boots; one wore jackboots, and rags for stockings, and the other Kirghiz sandals tied with string over bare feet. He told me light shoes were better than heavy boots, but I knew better.
“Heavy going?” said I.
“Yes, heavy. No water, and no one understands us in the Kirghiz tents.”
We shared what remained of my koumis.
“Where do you come from?”
“Voronezh fort. And you?”
“From England.”
“Have you served in the army?”
“No. We don’t need to unless we want to, you know; our soldiers receive wages.”
“How much?”