THE PLAINS OF EASTERN TURKISTAN. 121 



mist lifting a little at mid-day, we caught sight of 

 a mud-fort across the plain, which was the karaol, 

 or outpost, of Yarkand. It looked much nearer 

 than it really was. Sometimes, as we descended 

 into an imperceptible undulation in the plain, it 

 disappeared altogether, and when we again came 

 in sight it looked just as far off as ever. 



At last we found ourselves on the edge of a 

 steppe, and, as if a stage curtain had been raised 

 by magic, a new scene lay before us. At our 

 feet ran a broad canal, crossed by a good solid 

 wooden bridge, and in front of it rose the fort, 

 which had been appearing and vanishing so often 

 like a Will-o'-the-wisp. The whole country as far 

 as eye could reach was dotted with villages, clumps 

 of trees, and orchards, and instead of the stony 

 desert plain on which we stood, irrigated fields 

 everywhere met the eye. They were, of course, 

 quite bare at this time of year, but even so they 

 were a pleasing variety. 



As we approached the fort, some Turkis came 

 running out, and catching hold of our bridles for 

 we had mounted our ponies in order to make our 

 entry in due form led us into the fort, and con- 

 ducting us to a little hut, said we were to put 

 up there and be their guests during our stay. 



