JOURNEY FROM HERAT TO ORENBURG. 259 



loads of wretched ponies, one of whom will have the 

 old man's pipe, and both carry leather bags of water : 

 the rest of the party consist of poor moollalis (priests) 

 and tradespeople, wretchedly armed. It is but a few 

 hours since the party left the well, after what they 

 consider a comfortable meal. The old man and his 

 spouse are chatting sociably about past misfortunes, 

 and drawing bright pictures for the future; the 

 beardless boy has a good gun swung over his back, he 

 is riding a handsome horse, is well clothed, fancies 

 himself a hero, and is perhaps thinking of those 

 bright eyes which for so many years he has heard so 

 highly praised. Fatima is dosing in her pannier, 

 holding her master's gun, which, owing to its weight 

 and the old man's infirmities, has been committed to 

 her care ; the two servants are somewhat in the rear, 

 screaming in chorus some national song ; the rest of 

 the travellers are some distance ahead, when suddenly 

 a shout is raised, and in a moment the Turkomans 

 are on them. Willingly would the old man or his 

 son risk their lives to save the females. The old 

 man shouts to Fatima for the gun, but she, at the 

 first shout of the Turkomans, has gone off into 

 hysterics, and is clinging fast by the gun, screaming 

 to her mistress, who has fainted. The old man then 

 bethinks him of his pistols : these are loaded but not 

 primed they are tied in a bag and in his holsters. 

 Before he can extricate them from the bag, and prime, 

 a spear is passed through his body. The son is per- 



