ACROSS THE KIRGHIZ STEPPES 41 
every aul (tent-village) you see big stacks of them, and 
we frequently met large caravans conveying nothing else. 
Every now and then the steppe was traversed by water- 
courses, although at this season of the year they were 
generally dry. They ran into small salt lakes, on whose 
shores innumerable birds of passage congregate in spring 
and autumn. It is by the side of these streams that the 
Kirghiz pitch their auls, consisting of black tents (uy/) and 
sheds made of kamish. Their winter auls, on the other 
hand, are huts built of clay or earth. In the summer they 
move northwards, with their herds of cattle, to escape the 
oppressive heat, and to find pasturage which is not scorched 
up by the sun. Many Kirghiz own as many as 3000 head 
of sheep and 500 horses, and are then considered to be in 
very good circumstances. The winters in northern Turgai 
are bitterly cold. During the months of January and 
February snowstorms rage with unmitigated violence ; the 
Kirghiz then seek their old winter settlements, and protect 
the sheep in pens hedged round with reeds. In a word, 
the climate is typically continental. 
The Kirghiz are a half- savage people, but capable, 
healthy, and good-natured. They love to call themselves 
Kaisak, i.e. brave fighting men, are content with their 
lonely life on the steppes, worship freedom, recognize no 
authority, and despise those who live in towns or labour at 
agriculture. In the struggle for existence their lot is a 
hard one. Their herds are their chief means of sub- 
sistence, providing them with food and clothing. The 
scanty vegetation and the soil itself furnish materials for 
their dwellings. The long, glowing roots of the saksaul 
protect them against the cold of winter. Their language 
is not very rich ; when they talk together, they eke out 
mutual comprehension by very vivacious gestures. They 
cherish a devoted love for their desolate steppe, where 
their forefathers lived the life of freedom, and find it 
beautiful and varied, although the stranger seeks in vain 
for an object on which to rest his eye. It is true that, like 
the sea, the steppe is grand and impressive ; but it is 
utterly monotonous and melancholy. I drove across it 
