the Indian rupee before Sir David Barbour closed the mints. It is at present worth 15 kopeks, but sudden oscillations of a kopek and even more are common.[709] The gold coin in circulation is styled tilā, and is of unusual purity. It is worth 21 tangas. For the needs of the proletariat there are tiny brass dumps, 44 of which go to the tanga. Another quarter of the bazaar displays the silks and velvets for which Bokhārā was once so famous. The trade is a dwindling one, owing to the prevalence of disease among the worms; and the chief beauty of the fabrics lies in their faintly stamped, flowered patterns.[710] The vast crowd of loungers in these arcades shows none of the loathing for the Giaur which the appearance of one in this hotbed of fanaticism once excited. They civilly make way for the European’s droshky, and his eyes rarely encounter an unfriendly glance in those of the shopkeepers squatting impassively in a setting of rich carpets and dazzling weapons, or the throng of customers who watch every phase of the bargaining. But the old spirit has been scotched, not killed, by Russification. The European who allows his shadow to flit on a mullā lolling on his pile of cushions will be roundly cursed for his impudence. The crowd intent on buying and selling find the wherewithal to assuage their hunger in the eating-houses, which exhibit huge caldrons of bubbling pillau, flat cakes of unleavened bread, and heaps of coarse sweetmeats made from Russian beet-sugar. The samovar, which hisses in every eating-house, reveals the Bokhāran’s predilection for tea. The green variety is alone consumed, and it retails at 2s. 10d. per pound, in spite of a Russian import duty of 1s. 10d. In pre-railway days it was imported through Afghanistān, but the line connecting Bokhārā with the Caspian has superseded the old camel caravans, with their leisurely movements and liability to pillage and exactions. Tea now comes into Bokhārā by way of Bombay and Batum. China still supplies the great bulk of the demand; but Indian and Ceylon teas are slowly making their way even in remote Bokhārā. Their progress would be far more rapid but for the crushing import duty levied by the Russian Government. The Transcaspian Railway has, in point of fact, robbed Peter to pay Paul. Russians and Russo-Germans find a ready sale in Central Asia for their wares, but Bokhārā is no longer a great centre for the distribution of English and Indian goods, as it was a quarter of a century back. They will live in the memory of the denizen of the prosaic West, those Bokhārā bazaars, with their long lines of shops rich in dazzling colours, the blue sky peeping through rents in the time-worn vaulting, and the sunshine flecking the kaleidoscopic crowd in the galleries below. Though the chief interest of Bokhārā centres in its bazaars, it has many public buildings which repay examination. In the north-west quarter is the Rīgistān, a market-place surrounded