Travels in Central Asia: Being the Account of a Journey from Teheran Across the Turkoman Desert on the Eastern Shore of the Caspian to Khiva, Bokhara, and SamarcandVámbéry, Ármin
History
Travels in Central Asia: Being the Account of a Journey from Teheran Across the Turkoman Desert on the Eastern Shore of the Caspian to Khiva, Bokhara, and Samarcand
Vámbéry, Ármin
Asia, Central -- Description and travel; Vámbéry, Ármin, 1832-1913 -- Travel -- Asia, Central
[Precarious State of Author; Hospitable Reception amongst Persian
Slaves]
I was no longer able to dismount without assistance; they laid me upon
the ground; a fearful fire seemed to burn my entrails; my headache
reduced me almost to a state of stupefaction. My pen is too feeble to
furnish even a slight sketch of the martyrdom that thirst occasions; I
think that no death can be more painful. Although I have found myself
able to nerve myself to face all other perils, here I felt quite
broken. I thought, indeed, that I had reached the end of my life.
Towards midnight we started, I fell asleep, and on awaking in the
morning found myself in a mud hut, surrounded by people with long
beards; in these I immediately recognised children of 'Iran.' They
said to me: 'Shuma ki Hadji nistid' (You, certainly, are no Hadji). I
had no strength to reply. They at first gave me something warm to
drink, and a little afterwards some sour milk, mixed with water and
salt, called here 'Airan:' that gave me strength and set me up again.
I now first became aware that I and my other fellow-travellers were
the guests of several Persian slaves, who had been sent hither in the
middle of the wilderness, at a distance of ten miles from Bokhara, to
tend sheep; they had received from their owners only a scanty supply
of bread and water, so that they might find it impossible to make such
a provision as should help them to flee away through the wilderness.
And yet these unfortunate exiles had had the magnanimity to share
their store of water with their arch-enemies, {163} the Sunnite
Mollahs! To me they showed peculiar kindness, as I addressed them in
their mother tongue. Persian, it is true, is spoken also in Bokhara,
but the Persian of the Irani is different from the former.
I was much touched to see amongst them a child five years old, also a
slave, of great intelligence. He had been, two years before, captured
and sold with his father. When I questioned him about the latter, he
answered me confidingly. 'Yes; my father has bought himself (meaning
paid his own ransom); at longest I shall only be a slave two years,
for by that time my father will have spared the necessary money.' The
poor child had on him hardly anything but a few little rags, to cover
his weak little body; his skin was of the hardness and colour of
leather. I gave him one of my own articles of attire, and he promised
me to have a dress made out of it for himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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