DOWN THE KHOTAN-DARIA 647 
He was breathing heavily ; and, after one or two long- 
drawn breaths, he died. 
This was the camel on which Islam had saved my 
diaries, maps, instruments, and other things which I set 
the greatest store by. Naturally therefore I felt sorry 
to lose the poor beast, which had rendered me such a 
signal service. All the way down the Khotan-daria I 
went to him at every place where we encamped, and 
clapped him ; but he always turned away his head and 
screamed, as though I were going to pull at his nose- 
rope. It seemed as though he knew I was the cause 
of the suffering he had endured. On the morning he 
died, the morning of the Feast of Mairam, it was still 
and quiet in the caravanserai courtyard. On that day 
no caravan came in, no caravan went out ; ordinary 
work of every sort and kind was entirely suspended. 
Everybody was out of doors. The streets, the bazaars 
were gay with new khalats (coats) in the brightest and 
most variegated hues, new caps (calottes) in glowing 
colours, and snow-white turbans. Every person looked 
happy and contented. On this day the meanest servant 
is greeted with a “Aid tmibavek!" (A happy holiday to 
you !) by his master ; and from the windows of the 
minarets the muezzin’s voice, uplifted in prayer and 
praise of the Almighty, sounds clearer and more musical 
than usual. What a contrast between the silent court- 
yard, where my dead camel lay, and this richly varied 
picture of life and happiness, every face beaming with 
delight, on this the greatest Mohammedan holiday of the 
year! As it happened, in the year of our visit to 
Ak-su, the Feast of Mairam fell on Whit - Tuesday. 
Mohammed Emin was going to sell the two camels for 
me on the following day. The money value of the dead 
animal was a mere trifle ; besides, by this I had become 
accustomed to losing camels ! But this poor beast had 
been the means of saving my sketches and diaries, and 
my purse for defraying the expenses of the summer ; 
and I felt as if I had lost a faithful friend, a friend in 
whose fidelity I could trust implicitly, who had sacrificed 
