CHAPTER XLIX. 
WITH THE SHEPHERDS OF THE KHOTAN-DARIA 
WI LIGHT was beginning to spread its dusky wings 
1 over the silent scene, when, as I was passing a pro- 
jecting headland, I thought I heard a wonderful sound. I 
stood stock-still ; I held my breath and listened. But all 
was silent as before. I concluded, it must have been a 
thrush or some other bird which had several times startled 
me already, and made me stop and listen. But no; there it 
was again, an unmistakeable shout; and it was immediately 
followed by the lowing of a cow, a voice which in my ears 
was welcomer than the singing of a prima donna. 
I hurriedly pulled on my wet boots, so as not to look 
like a madman, and with my heart in my mouth hurried 
in the direction from which the sounds proceeded. I 
pushed my way through thorny thickets, I jumped over 
fallen tree-trunks, I stumbled, I tripped again and again, 
I forced myself through dense beds of kamish, through 
heaps of crackling branches. The farther I went, the 
more distinctly I heard the voices of men talking, and the 
bleating of sheep, and through an opening in the forest I 
caught a glimpse of a flock of sheep grazing. A shepherd 
with a long staff in his hand was keeping watch over them ; 
and when he perceived me, in my tattered clothes and blue 
spectacles, breaking out of the tangled thickets, he was not 
a little startled and amazed. Probably he took me for a 
goblin of the forest, or an evil spirit from the desert, who 
had lost his way and wandered thither by mistake. He 
stood as though rooted to the spot with terror, and could 
do nothing but stare at me open-mouthed. I greeted him 
with the usual “ Salaam aleihm !” (Peace be with you !), 
