No sooner was the narration of this great feat of arms at an end when all rose to their feet to have a look at the spoils, the sight of which excites in the Turkoman's breast a mixed feeling of envy and pleasure. I followed them likewise, and a terrible picture presented itself to my eyes. Lying down in the middle of the tent were two Persians, looking deadly pale and covered with clotted blood, dirt and dust. A man was busily engaged in putting their broken limbs into fetters, when one of them gave a loud, wild shriek, the rings of the chains being too small for him. The cruel Turkoman was about to fasten them forcibly round his ancles. In a corner sat two young children on the ground, pale and trembling, and looking with sorrowful eyes towards the tortured Persian. The unhappy man was their father; they longed to weep, but dared not;--one look of the robber, at whom they stole a glance now and then, with their teeth chattering, was sufficient to suppress their tears. In another corner a girl, from fifteen to sixteen years old, was crouching, her hair dishevelled and in confusion, her garments torn and almost entirely covered with blood. She groaned and sobbed, covering her face with her hands. Some Turkoman woman, moved either by compassion or curiosity, asked her what ailed her, and where she was wounded. "I am not wounded," she exclaimed, in a plaintive voice, deeply touching. "This blood is the blood of my mother, my only one, and the best and kindest of mothers. Oh! ana djan, ana djan (dear mother)!" Thus she lamented, striking her head against the trellised wood-work of the tent, so that it almost tumbled down. They offered her a draught of water, and her tongue became loosened, and she told them how she (of course a valuable prize) had been lifted into the saddle beside the robber, but that her mother, tied to the stirrups, had been obliged to run along on foot. After an hour's running in this manner, she grew so tired that she sank down exhausted every moment. The Turkoman tried to increase her strength by lashing her with his whip, but this was of no avail; and as he did not want to remain behind from his troop he grew in a rage, drew his sword, and in a second struck off her head. The blood spirting up, had covered the daughter, horseman and horse; and, looking at the red spots upon her clothes, the poor girl wept loud and bitterly. Whilst this was going on in the interior of the tent, outside the various members of the robbers' family were busy inspecting the booty he had brought home. The elder women seized greedily upon one or another utensil for domestic use, whilst the children, who were jumping about merrily, were trying on the different garments,--now one, now another, and producing shouts of laughter.