CHAPTER LXXII. 
ALONG PRZHEVALSKY’S LOP-NOR BY BOAT 
A P' TER I had rested a couple of days, the caravan 
I continued its march by land towards Chegghelik-uy 
on the Tarim, whilst I proceeded thither by boat. The 
Chong-tarim (Great Tarim) curved backwards and forwards 
in the most capricious fashion, frequently describing an 
almost complete circle, so that we really steered all round 
the compass. Being now in the open, and unsheltered 
against the fury of the hurricane, my boatmen took the 
precaution to fasten two canoes side by side, holding them 
together by means of two poles lashed to the bulwarks and 
leaving about a foot’s space between the two craft. This 
double canoe {kosh-kemi) was manned by four boatmen ; 
and yet so furious was the storm, that their strength was 
put to the severest proof, although in the reaches in which 
the noses of the canoes were turned towards the west, they 
were caught by the wind and driven along at a perfectly 
giddy pace. 
The forests gradually thinned away, until they ceased 
altogether, and the barren desert lined both banks of the 
river, the eastern as well as the western. 
Chegghelik-uy is a typical Asiatic fishing-station — a row 
of yellow reed cabins along the river-bank, a score of 
canoes drawn up on land immediately in front of them, 
nets hung out to dry on long poles, and an all-pervading 
odour of rancid fish. Eight families are permanently 
settled in the place all the year round ; but in winter they 
are joined by fifteen other families, who go down to 
Charkhlik in the spring, sow their crops, wait till they 
are ripe, and harvest them, and then return to Cheg- 
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