The Mammoth Book of Travel in Dangerous Places (7 page)

Heibuk is a thriving village, with a castle of sundried brick, built on a commanding hillock. For the first time among the mountains, the valley opens, and presents a sheet of gardens and most
luxuriant verdure. The climate also undergoes a great change; and we find the fig tree, which does not grow in Cabool, or higher up the mountains. The elevation of Heibuk is about 4000 feet. The
soil is rich, and the vegetation rank. We had expected to be rid of those troublesome companions of a tropical climate, snakes and scorpions; but here they were more numerous than in India, and we
disturbed numbers of them on the road. One of our servants was stung by a scorpion; and as there is a popular belief that the pain ceases if the reptile be killed, it was put to death accordingly.
The construction of the houses at Heibuk arrested our attention: they have domes instead of terraces, with a hole in the roof as a chimney; so that a village has the appearance of a cluster of
large brown beehives. The inhabitants adopt this style of building, as wood is scarce. The people, who were now as different as their houses, wore conical skull-caps, instead of turbans, and almost
every one we met, whether traveller or villager, appeared in long brown boots. The ladies seemed to select the gayest colours for their dresses; and I could now distinguish some very handsome
faces, for the Mahommedan ladies do not pay scrupulous attention to being veiled in the villages. They were much fairer than their husbands, with nothing ungainly in their appearance, though they
were Tartars. I could now, indeed, understand the praises of the Orientals as to the beauty of these Toorkee girls.

On the 30th of May we made our last march among the mountains, and debouched into the plains of Tartary at Khooloom, or Tash Koorghan, where we had a noble view of the country north of us,
sloping down to the Oxus. We left the last hills about two miles from the town, rising at once in an abrupt and imposing manner; the road passing through them by a narrow defile, which might easily
be defended. Khooloom contains about ten thousand inhabitants, and is the frontier town of Moorad Beg of Koondooz, a powerful chief, who has reduced all the countries north of Hindoo Koosh to his
yoke. We alighted at one of the caravansarais, where we were scarcely noticed. A caravansary is too well known to require much description; – it is a square, enclosed by walls, under which
are so many rooms or cells for accommodation. The merchandise and cattle stand in the area. Each party has his chamber, and is strictly private; since it is contrary to custom for one person to
disturb another. All are travellers, and many are fatigued. If society were every where on as good a footing as in a caravansary, the world would be spared the evils of calumny. We here rested
after our arduous and fatiguing journey over rocks and mountains; and were, indeed, refreshed by the change. Since leaving Cabool, we had slept in our clothes, where we could seldom or ever change
them. We had halted among mud, waded through rivers, tumbled among snow, and for the last few days been sunned by heat. These are but the petty inconveniences of a traveller; which sink into
insignificance, when compared with the pleasure of seeing new men and countries, strange manners and customs, and being able to temper the prejudices of one’s country, by observing those of
other nations.

We had entered Khooloom with an intention of setting out next day on our journey to Balkh; placing implicit reliance on the assertion of our friends, that we had nothing to
apprehend in doing so. Judge, then, of our surprise, when we learned that the officers of the custom house had despatched a messenger to the chief of Koondooz, to report our arrival, and request
his instructions as to our disposal. We were, meanwhile, desired to await the answer. Our companion, the Nazir, was much chagrined at the detention; but it was now useless to upbraid him for having
ever brought us to Khooloom. He assured us that it was a mere temporary inconvenience; and likewise despatched a letter to the minister at Koondooz, requesting that we might not be detained, since
his business in Russia could not be transacted without us. The minister was a friend of the Nazir’s family; and since we had plunged ourselves into difficulties, matters seemed at least to
look favourable for our safe conduct through them. I could not but regret that I had ever allowed myself to be seduced by the advice of any one; and would, even at this late period, have
endeavoured to escape to Balkh, had not the Cafila-bashee, and every one, pronounced it headstrong and impracticable. At one time, indeed, about midnight, the Cafila-bashee acceded to our proposals
for escaping to Balkh in the course of the next night, and even said the first verse of the Koran as his oath and blessing. I did not, however, understand that the plan was to be kept secret from
the Nazir, to whom I revealed it next day, to the great dissatisfaction and dismay of the Cafila-bashee, who was visited with a due share of his wrath. “Wait,” said the Nazir to us,
“for a reply from Koondooz, and we cannot doubt its favourable nature.” We did wait; and at midnight, on the 1st of June, received a summons to repair to Koondooz with all despatch;
while the minister, in reply to our conductor’s letter, begged he would not allow himself to be detained on our account, but proceed on his journey to Bokhara! Our surprise may be better
imagined than described. It was now too late to make our escape, for we were watched in the caravansary, and the officers would not even allow my horse to be taken into the town and shod. It might
have been accomplished on our first arrival, but then it was deemed injudicious, and it only remained, therefore, for us to face the difficulties of our situation in a prompt and becoming manner. I
urged an immediate departure for Koondooz, leaving Dr. Gerard, and all the party, except two, at Khooloom. I was now resolved on personating the character of an Armenian, and believed that despatch
would avail me and allay suspicion. I had letters from the saint at Peshawur, which would bear me out, as I thought, in the new character, since we were there denominated Armenians; but my
fellow-travellers assured me that the very possession of such documents would prove our real condition, and I destroyed them all, as well as the letters of the Cabool chief, which were alike
objectionable. I divested myself, indeed, of all my Persian correspondence, and tore up among the rest many of Runjeet Sing’s epistles, which were now in my eyes less acceptable than I
thought they would ever prove. During these arrangements, I discovered that the Nazir had no relish for a journey to Koondooz, and seemed disposed to stay behind, almost frantic with despair; but
shame is a great promoter of exertion, and I begged he would accompany me, to which he agreed.

The better to understand the critical situation in which we were now placed, I shall give a brief sketch of the disasters which befell Mr. Moorcroft in this part of the country, in the year
1824, from the very personage who now summoned us to Koondooz. On that traveller crossing the mountains, he proceeded to wait on the chief, and having made him some presents suitable to his rank,
returned to Khooloom. He had no sooner arrived there, than he received a message from the chief, saying, that some of his soldiers had been wounded, and requesting that he would hasten his return,
and bring along with him his medical instruments, and Mr. Guthrie, an Indo-Briton, who had accompanied Mr. Moorcroft as a surgeon. Mr. Moorcroft’s own abilities in that capacity were also
known, for he had already given proofs of great skill to these people. He set out for Koondooz without suspicion, but found, on his arrival there, that his surgical services were not wanted, and it
was merely a plan to ensnare him. The chief ordered him to send for all his party and baggage, which he did; and, after a month’s delay, he only succeeded in liberating himself, by complying
with the most extravagant demands of Moorad Beg. By one means or another, he possessed himself of cash to the value of 23,000 rupees, before Mr. Moorcroft was permitted to depart; and it would have
been well had the matter here terminated; but the cupidity of the chief had been excited. It is also said, that he entertained some dread of Moorcroft’s designs, from the arms and two small
field-pieces, which he carried with him for purposes of protection. The party prepared to quit Khooloom for Bokhara, but, on the very eve of departure, were surrounded by 400 horsemen, and again
summoned to Koondooz. It was not now concealed, that the chief was resolved on seizing the whole of the property, and putting the party to death. Mr. Moorcroft took the only course which could have
ever extricated his party and himself. In the disguise of a native he fled at night, and after a surprising journey, at length reached Talighan, a town beyond Koondooz, where a holy man lived, who
was reputed to possess much influence over the conscience of Moorad Beg. He threw himself at the feet of this saint, seized the hem of his garment, and sued for his protection. “Rise
up,” said he, “it is granted; fear nothing.” This good man immediately sent a messenger to Koondooz, to summon the chief, who appeared in person with the answer. At his peril, he
could not now touch a hair of the traveller’s head; Moorad Beg obeyed, and the holy man declined to receive the smallest reward for his services. After Mr. Moorcroft’s flight, the
Uzbeks marched his fellow-traveller, Mr. George Trebeck, with all the party and property, to Koondooz. Their anxiety was not allayed till their arrival at that place, when they heard of the success
of Moorcroft, his safety, and their own. After these disasters, Moorcroft pursued his journey into Bokhara, but unfortunately died on his return, in the following year, at Andkhooee, about eighty
miles from Balkh. His fellow-traveller, Mr. Trebeck, was unable to force his way beyond Muzar, in the neighbourhood of that city, since the chief of Koondooz was resolved on waylaying the party on
its return, and the only safe road to Cabool led by Khooloom, where they had already encountered such difficulties. He lingered about Balkh for four or five months, and died of fever, from which he
had been suffering during the whole of that time. The Indo-Briton, Mr. Guthrie, was previously cut off by the same disease, to which most of their followers also fell victims. Thus terminated their
unfortunate expedition into Tartary.

On the evening of the 2nd of June, I set out on my journey to Koondooz, which lies higher up the valley of the Oxus, having previously prevailed on the custom-house officer, who was a Hindoo, to
accompany me. I did not leave Khooloom under very encouraging circumstances, having just discovered that a Hindoo of Peshawur had
kindly
apprised the authorities of many of our acts,
circumstances, and condition, since leaving Hindoostan; adding, indeed, numerous exaggerations to the narration, in which we were set forth as wealthy individuals, whose bills had even affected the
money market. When beyond the town, we found our caravan to consist of eight or ten tea merchants, of Budukhshan and Yarkund, who had disposed of their property, and were returning to their
country. In our own party there was the Nazir, Cafila-bashee, and myself, with the Hindoo, whose name was Chumundass, who came unattended. I discovered that this latter person had a pretty correct
knowledge of our affairs, but I did not assist to fill up the thread of his discourse, and boldly denominated myself a Hindoostan Armenian. The name of Englishman, which had carried us through
safely in all other places, was here replete with danger; since it not only conveyed notions of great wealth, but a belief that that can be renewed from the inferior metals. I had, however,
discovered that the Hindoo was a good man, for his easy manner in searching our baggage at the caravansary, after our first arrival, left a favourable impression on my mind; and he himself declared
to the Nazir, that it was no fault of his that we were dragged to Koondooz, since he was but a custom-house officer, and obliged to report our arrival. It was evident to me, that an impression
might be made on such a person by persuasion and gold, and from his very presence with us, I construed that money might be his god. He and I soon fell into conversation, and I found him to be a
native of Mooltan, who had long resided in these countries. I spoke much of India, and its people and customs; told him that I had seen his native town, using as much eloquence as I was possessed
of to praise its people, and every thing connected with it. It would have been difficult to discover, from the varied topics of our conversation, that the time was one of most anxious suspense. I
ran over the gods of the Hindoo catalogue as far as I remembered, and produced almost a fever of delight in my associate, who had long ceased to hear them named in aught but terms of deep reproach.
It was now time to turn my persuasion to account, and we talked in the language of India, our conversation was conducted in a dialect foreign to most of our party, and unheeded by them. I pointed
out in plain terms to the Hindoo, our forlorn and hopeless condition, when in the power of a person like the chief of Koondooz; and I put it to himself, if our baggage did not testify our poverty.
I then showed him, that as I belonged to India, I might one day serve him in that country, and finally offered to give him a reward in money, and conjured him by all his Pantheon to aid us in our
difficulties. When about twelve miles from Khooloom, we alighted at a village called Ungaruk, to feed our horses, and it now occurred to me that a truly favourable opportunity to make an escape
presented itself. There was no guard or escort to attend us, and the honest Hindoo was far from Khooloom, and without the means of giving an alarm, whilst the most moderate speed would carry us
beyond Moorad Beg’s frontier, and even to the city of Balkh, before morning. This feasible plan, however, could not evidently be put into execution, since Dr. Gerard would be left at
Khooloom, and his safety more than ever endangered; and it could only now be regretted, that the scheme had not sooner presented itself. The tone of the Hindoo had, however, reconciled me in a
great degree to my situation, and we again prosecuted our midnight journey, and renewed our conversation. Before the sun had risen, I was satisfied that if more honourable motives had not opened
this man’s heart, the baser metals had, and I almost then believed, that we should triumph over our misfortunes. A new dilemma, however, now overtook us.