THE NOMAD HERDSMEN AND HERDS OF THE STEPPES. 477 



The sheep express their anxiety in loud bleatings, even the goats 

 bleat hesitatingly, till the shepherd's patience is exhausted. For 

 one moment the fateful sling hangs over the head of one of the 

 sheep; the next, it feels itself caught by the neck, pulled up to the 

 saddle, and hurled into the seething waters. Now it must shift for 

 itself. Swimming spasmodically, or rather making a series of 

 springs, it struggles on from one mass of rock to another, but before 

 it can gain a footing, it is hurried on by the torrent, and kicks, 

 flounders, leaps, and swims again, is every now and then carried 

 away by the flood, but eventually reaches the opposite bank, ex- 

 hausted more by terror than by exertion. Trembling in every limb, 

 it satisfies itself that it is really on dry land again, shakes its drip- 

 ping fleece, looks back timidly once more, and then begins to feed 

 greedily to make up for the discomfort it has suffered. Meanwhile 

 the rest of the flock have crossed the torrent one after another, 

 either of their own accord or compulsorily, and when all have been 

 collected again the march is resumed. In this manner the nomadic 

 herdsman gradually reaches the mountains. When it begins to 

 grow cold, when perhaps a slight fall of snow suggests the approach 

 of winter, herdsman and herd turn downwards again, this time 

 through the shadiest gorges, till the low -lying plain is reached, and 

 the circle is completed at the winter camping-ground. This is the 

 regular yearly routine. 



All the Kirghiz domestic animals accustom themselves very 

 quickly to the different districts in which they graze, wherever the 

 place may be. After having gone to a pasture once or twice, all 

 know the way thither again, they find it unfailingly without the 

 herdsman, and return of their own accord to the yurt to be milked. 

 There is certainly a strong inducement for them to do so, for from 

 May onwards the young of all milk-yielding animals are kept from 

 their mothers, and yet allowed to graze in the neighbourhood of the 

 aul, so that longing for their young is kept alive in the maternal 

 hearts. Thus milking can always take place at the same hour, 

 and the mistress of the yurt can regulate her work and portion out 

 her day. 



With the exception of the mares, which are always milked by 



