206 ACROSS THE STEPPES OF TURKESTAN. 



terrible monotony. Day after day the far-reaching 

 steppes of Turkestan spread out their carpet of luxuriant 

 grass before one, splashed here and there with patches 

 of brilliant colour, formed by masses of poppies and 

 magnificent tulips ; but it is only at long intervals, 

 where a settlement has grown up round a post-station, 

 that trees or houses appear to give any variety to the 

 uninterrupted landscape. Kanges of mountains are 

 always visible to the south, now nearer, now farther 

 away — at first the Alexandrovski Mountains, and farther 

 on the spurs of the Alatau ; and looking out to the 

 right after passing Verni, you might imagine that you 

 were gazing at the Grampians, until a glance to the 

 other side dispels the illusion — there is no room in Scot- 

 land for the endless expanse which here meets the eye. 



Sometimes you see in the distance collections of what 

 you take to be trim little hay-cocks, until a nearer 

 acquaintance apprises you of the fact that they are 

 Kirgiz yurts, the curious tents of grey felt, stretched 

 over wooden frames, in which these nomads live. At 

 others you meet long strings of camels carrying away a 

 whole village of yurts on their backs, a desire for change 

 having prompted their owners to seek new lands and 

 pastures for their flocks. Indeed, camels were the 

 beasts most in evidence — they were even being used 

 in the plough in one or two places; but large flocks 

 of sheep, droves of cattle, and herds of horses are 

 also to be seen, though hardly in the quantities one 

 would expect in so magnificent a pastoral country. 

 In addition to the Kirgiz, one may see long lines of 

 wooden carts moving along at funereal pace, or out- 

 spanned by the roadside — Russian emigrants these, 

 seeking new homes and fortunes in the East. 



After leaving Tashkent, the road runs north for a 

 distance of seventy-six miles to Tchimkent, stormed by 



