The boat floats down with the current, following obediently the windings of the river, and the polemen are on the watch. On the banks grow small hawthorn bushes and tamarisks, interrupted by patches of reeds and small clumps of young trees, among which poplars always predominate. They are not the tall, slender poplars which tower proud as kings above other trees, but quite a dwarf kind with a round, irregular crown. When the day draws near to a close I give the order to stop. Palta thrusts his pole into the river bottom, and, throwing all his strength and weight on to it, forces the stern of the boat to swing round to the land, where another of the crew jumps out on to the bank with a rope. He makes it fast round a stump, and our day's voyage is ended. The gangway is pushed out and a fire is lighted in an open space among the trees, and soon the teapot and rice-pan are bubbling pleasantly. I remain sitting at my writing-table and see the moonlight playing in a streak on the surface of the river. All is quiet and silent around us, and even the midges have gone to rest. I hear only the brands crackling in the camp fire and the sand slipping down the neighbouring bank as the water laps against it. A dog barking in the distance is answered by Dovlet and Yolldash. Now steps are heard on board, and Islam Bay brings my supper. The writing-table is converted into a dining-table, and he serves me up rice pudding with onions, carrots, and minced mutton, fresh bread, eggs, cucumbers, melons, and grapes. What more could a man want? It was very different when we were wandering on the endless sands. If I want to drink I have only to let down a cup into the river which gently ripples past the boat. The dogs keep me company, sitting with cocked ears waiting for a titbit. Then Islam comes and clears the table, I close the tent, creep into my berth, and enjoy life afloat on my own vessel, where it is only necessary to loosen a rope to be on the way again. After a few days we come to a place where the river contracts and forces its way with great velocity between small islands and great heaps of stranded driftwood. Here Palta has plenty of work, for he has constantly to keep the boat off from some obstacle or other with the pole. Frequently we bump up against poplar trunks which do not show above the water, and then the boat swings round in a moment. Then all the crew jump into the river and shove the boat off again. A distant noise is heard, and soon becomes louder. In a moment we are in the midst of rapids, and it is too late to heave to. It is to be hoped that we shall not turn broadside on or we shall capsize. "Let her go down as she likes," I call out. All the poles are drawn up, and the boat flies along, gliding easily and smoothly over the boiling water.