It was just about daybreak when we met on our march two half-naked men, who from a distance shouted out to our karavan. On coming up to us they sank upon the ground, uttering the words, 'A morsel of bread, a morsel of bread!' I was one of the first to tender them bread and mutton fat. After eating a little, they began to tell us that they were boatmen from Hezaresp, and that they had been robbed by a Tekke Alaman of boat, clothes, and bread, and had been dismissed with life alone; that the robbers were 150 in number, and contemplated a _razzia_ upon the herds of the Kirghis round about. 'For God's sake,' said one of them, 'fly or conceal yourselves, or in a few hours you will encounter them, and in spite of your all being pious pilgrims, they will leave you behind in the desert, without beasts or food, for the Kair, disbelieving Tekke, are capable of anything.' Our Kervanbashi, who had {155} been already twice robbed, and had had great difficulty in escaping with his life, needed not the counsel; scarcely had he heard the words 'Tekke' and 'Alaman,' when he in all haste gave the command to face about, and began the retreat with as much rapidity as the poor heavily-laden camels permitted. To attempt to fly with these animals from Turkomans mounted on horses, would of course have been the height of folly; still, according to our calculation, 150 horsemen could not be transported over the river till the morning, and whilst the robbers were cautiously proceeding on the route, we might again reach Tünüklü, and having refilled our water-skins, throw ourselves into the Khalata (desert), where our destruction might not be so certain. After the most excessive exertions, our poor brutes arrived quite exhausted before Tünüklü. Here we were obliged to accord them a little pasture and repose, otherwise it would have been impossible to reach even the first station in the sand. We tarried on the spot therefore perforce, tremblingly, three hours, until we had had time to fill our skins, and to make preparations for the terrible journey. The dealer in clothes from Khiva, who had himself been once already robbed by the Turkomans, had, in the meantime, persuaded several of the Hadjis--those I mean who had well-filled sacks, but no courage --rather to hide themselves with him in the underwood on the river's bank, than during the Saratan (dog-days) to throw themselves into the desert, where they would be menaced not only with death from thirst, but with destruction from the Tebbad (hot-wind from the east). {156}