At a village called Shamahoolhur, the traveller was received with true Khivan hospitality. His entertainer was a fair-looking man, with a genial address and a hearty glance in his dark eyes, and appeared, from his surroundings, to be possessed of considerable wealth. He was a sportsman, and kept several hawks; these birds being used in Khiva to fly at the saigahs and hares. The bird strikes his victim between its eyes with a force which stuns or confuses it, so that it can make no resistance or attempt at escape when the hounds seize it. “Do you not hunt in this way in your country?” said the Khivan. “No; we hunt foxes, but only with hounds, and we ourselves follow on horseback.” “Are your horses like our own?” he asked. “No; they are most of them stouter built, have stronger shoulders, and are better animals; but though they can gallop faster than your horses for a short distance, I do not think they can last so long.” “Which do you like best, your horse or your wife?” inquired the man. “That depends upon the woman,” I replied; and the guide, here joining in the conversation, said that in England they did not buy or sell their wives, and that I was not a married man. “What! you have not got a wife?” “No; how could I travel if I had one?” “Why, you might leave her behind, and lock her up, as our merchants do with their wives when they go on a journey!” The next morning Major Burnaby encountered on the road the messenger he had despatched to Khiva. He was accompanied by two Khivan noblemen, one of whom courteously saluted the English traveller, and explained that the Khan had sent him to escort him into the city, and bid him welcome. They rapidly approached the capital, and above its belt of trees could see its glittering crown of minarets and domes. The landscape round about it was very pleasant to see, with its leafy groves, its walled orchards, and its avenues of mulberry trees; and recalled to the traveller’s mind the descriptions which figure in the pages of Oriental story-tellers. A swift ride brought the party to the gates of Khiva. The city is built in an oblong form, and surrounded by two walls; of which the outer is not less than fifty feet in height, and constructed of baked bricks, with the upper part of dried clay. This forms the first line of defence. At a quarter of a mile within it rises the second wall, somewhat lower than the first, and protected by a dry ditch. It immediately surrounds the tower. The space between the two walls is used as a market, and high above the throng of vendors and buyers, and the press of cattle, horses, sheep, and camels, rises the cross-beam of the ghastly gallows, on which all people convicted of theft are executed.