492 FROM NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR. 



eager, active mind demands occupation, and thus he likes not only 

 light conversation, but serious discussions of all kinds, chiefly, per- 

 haps, because of the variety they give to his monotonous life. So 

 he amuses himself in converse with others of his tribe, and he can 

 become a perfect bore to a stranger with his glibness of speech, 

 which often degenerates to mere chatter. With this love of talking 

 is closely connected a thirst for knowledge, which in the same way 

 often d.egenerates into inquisitiveness, for the "red tongue" is never 

 allowed a holiday. Whatever the wind blows over the steppe the 

 listening ear of the Kirghiz picks up and the " red tongue" clothes 

 in words. If anything is discussed which the Kirghiz understands 

 or does not understand, if any conversation takes place in a lan- 

 guage with which he is acquainted, he has no hesitation in making 

 his way to the yurt and, invited or otherwise, pressing his ear to 

 its walls, so as to lose no syllable. To keep to himself an occur- 

 rence which differs from the everyday routine by a hair's-breadth, 

 an event of any kind, a piece of information, or a secret, is to the 

 Kirghiz an utter impossibility. Does the noble horse keep silence 

 when he sees anything which excites his interest, or the sheep and 

 the goat when they meet with their fellows? Does the lark soar 

 up from its nest on the steppe in silence? And shall the lord of the 

 steppe be more silent than they? Never! "Speak on, red tongue, 

 while thou hast life, for after death thou shalt be still." An unin- 

 terrupted stream of speech flows from the lips of every Kirghiz. 

 Two men never ride silently together, even though their journey 

 lasts for days. The whole time they find something to talk about, 

 some communication to make to each other. Usually it does not 

 nearly satisfy them to ride in pairs; three or four of them ride 

 abreast wherever the path admits of it. This way of riding is so 

 deeply rooted in them that the horses press close together of their 

 own accord, and a European is obliged to rein them in to prevent 

 their doing so. In a yurt filled with Kirghiz there is a buzzing 

 like that about a bee-hive, for everyone wishes to speak, and does 

 everything he can to gain a hearing. 



One good result of this love of talking, so unusual among men, 

 is the command of language which they acquire. In this they seem 



