Thus equipped we started in the first days of Zilkaada. For more than a month we wandered about in the Deshti Kipchak[191] (Kirghiz steppe). It was late in the autumn, and at that time of the year not a bird, not a wild ass (_Onagre_) can be seen, for there is not a vestige of verdure, not a drop of water to be found. It was one interminable wilderness; one desert steppe. At last we came to a place called Sham, and shortly after to Saraidjik,[192] where we met some Hadjis and three of the Moslems which had been discharged at Samarkand. These latter were quite naked, and at sight of us they cried: "Whither go ye? Astrakhan is taken by the Russians, Ahmed Tchaush has fought in battle with them, and our Aga has been plundered by the troops of Arslan Mirza. The way is blocked, be warned and go back." In vain I quoted the lines: "We are but poor beggars, what harm can befall us? For ten armed men can not rob one who has nothing." The rest of the company, especially the merchants, were not of my opinion; they proposed to delay a few days in Kharezm and await events, for: "Speed is from the devil and patience is from God." The envoy and the other Moslems were of the same mind, and so I reluctantly retraced my steps to Kharezm. The envoy returned to Samarkand, but all the rest remained in Kharezm, and when Dost Mohammed Khan, the ruler of Khiva, inquired of me by which route I now proposed to travel, I replied, "I will go by the way of Meshhed in Khorassan to Irak Adjemi, and from there to Bagdad." Thereupon the Khan said: "Remain here with us. In the spring the Manghits seek their pastures, possibly the Russians may also quit the land by that time, and, remember, the way to Bagdad is long." But I could not agree to this, and in support of my argument I quoted the proverb: "To the lover Bagdad is not far distant"; so at last the Khan had to give in. He agreed to my departure, gave me a beautiful horse, and to my companions he gave the carriage in which we had traveled up to here.