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Data Visualization with
Python and JavaScript
Scrape, Clean, Explore &
Transform Your Data

Kyran Dale
Data Visualization with Python and JavaScript
by Kyran Dale
Copyright © 2016 Kyran Dale. All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America.
Published by O’Reilly Media, Inc., 1005 Gravenstein Highway
North, Sebastopol, CA 95472.
O’Reilly books may be purchased for educational, business,
or sales promotional use. Online editions are also available
for most titles (http://oreilly.com/safari). For more
information, contact our corporate/institutional sales
department: 800-998-9938 or [email protected].
Editors: Dawn Schanafelt and
Meghan Blanchette

Production Editor: Kristen Brown

Copyeditor: Gillian McGarvey

Proofreader: Rachel Monaghan

Indexer: Judith McConville

Interior Designer: David Futato

Cover Designer: Karen Montgomery

Illustrator: Rebecca Demarest

July 2016: First Edition

Revision History for the First Edition
2016-06-29: First Release

2017-03-17: Second Release

See http://oreilly.com/catalog/errata.csp?
isbn=9781491920510 for release details.
The O’Reilly logo is a registered trademark of O’Reilly Media,
Inc. Data Visualization with Python and JavaScript, the cover
image, and related trade dress are trademarks of O’Reilly
Media, Inc.
While the publisher and the author have used good faith
efforts to ensure that the information and instructions
contained in this work are accurate, the publisher and the
author disclaim all responsibility for errors or omissions,
including without limitation responsibility for damages
resulting from the use of or reliance on this work. Use of the
information and instructions contained in this work is at
your own risk. If any code samples or other technology this
work contains or describes is subject to open source
licenses or the intellectual property rights of others, it is
your responsibility to ensure that your use thereof complies
with such licenses and/or rights.
978-1-491-92051-0
[LSI]
Preface

The chief ambition of this book is to describe a data

visualization (dataviz) toolchain that, in the era of the
Internet, is starting to predominate. The guiding principle of
this toolchain is that whatever insightful nuggets you have
managed to mine from your data deserve a home on the
web browser. Being on the Web means you can easily
choose to distribute your dataviz to a select few (using
authentication or restricting to a local network) or the whole
world. This is the big idea of the Internet and one that
dataviz is embracing at a rapid pace. And that means that
the future of dataviz involves JavaScript, the only first-class
language of the web browser. But JavaScript does not yet
have the data-processing stack needed to refine raw data,
which means data visualization is inevitably a multi-
language affair. I hope this book provides ammunition for
my belief that Python is the natural complementary
language to JavaScript’s monopoly of browser visualizations.
Although this book is a big one (that fact is felt most keenly
by the author right now), it has had to be very selective,
leaving out a lot of very cool Python and JavaScript dataviz
tools and focusing on the ones I think provide the best
building blocks. The number of cool libraries I couldn’t cover
reflects the enormous vitality of the Python and JavaScript
data science ecosystems. Even while the book was being
written, brilliant new Python and JavaScript libraries were
being introduced, and the pace continues.
I wanted to give the book some narrative structure by
setting a data transformation challenge. All data
visualization is essentially transformative, and showing the
journey from one reflection of a dataset (HTML tables and
lists) to a more modern, engaging, interactive, and,
fundamentally, browser-based one seemed a good way to
introduce key data visualization tools in a working context.
The challenge I set was to transform a basic Wikipedia list of
Nobel Prize winners into a modern, interactive, browser-
based visualization. Thus the same dataset is presented in a
more accessible, engaging form. But while the creation of
the Nobel visualization lent the book a backbone, there were
calculated redundancies. For example, although the book
uses Flask and the MongoDB-based Python-EVE API to
deliver the Nobel data to the browser, I also show how to do
it with the SQL-based Flask-RESTless. If you work in the field
of dataviz, you will need to be able to engage with both SQL
and NoSQL databases, and this book aims to be impartial.
Not every library demonstrated was used in transforming
the Nobel dataset, but all are ones I have found most useful
personally and think you will, too.
So the book is a collection of tools forming a chain, with the
creation of the Nobel visualization providing a guiding
narrative. You should be able to dip into relevant chapters
when and if the need arises; the different parts of the book
are self-contained so you can quickly review what you’ve
learned when required.
Conventions Used in This Book
The following typographical conventions are used in this
book:

Italic
Indicates new terms, URLs, email addresses, filenames,
and file extensions.
Constant width
Used for program listings, as well as within paragraphs
to refer to program elements such as variable or
function names, databases, datatypes, environment
variables, statements, and keywords.
Constant width bold
Shows commands or other text that should be typed
literally by the user.
Constant width italic
Shows text that should be replaced with user-supplied
values or by values determined by context.

TIP
This element signifies a tip or suggestion.

NOTE
This element signifies a general note.
 WARNING
This element indicates a warning or caution.
Using Code Examples
Supplemental material (code examples, exercises, etc.) is
available for download at https://github.com/Kyrand/dataviz-
with-python-and-js.
This book is here to help you get your job done. In general,
if example code is offered with this book, you may use it in
your programs and documentation. You do not need to
contact us for permission unless you’re reproducing a
significant portion of the code. For example, writing a
program that uses several chunks of code from this book
does not require permission. Selling or distributing a CD-
ROM of examples from O’Reilly books does require
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Incorporating a significant amount of example code from
this book into your product’s documentation does require
permission.
We appreciate, but do not require, attribution. An attribution
usually includes the title, author, publisher, and ISBN. For
example: “Data Visualization with Python and JavaScript by
Kyran Dale (O’Reilly). Copyright 2016 Kyran Dale, 978-1-
491-92051-0.”
If you feel your use of code examples falls outside fair use
or the permission given above, feel free to contact us at
[email protected].
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How to Contact Us
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Acknowledgments
Thanks first to Meghan Blanchette, who set the ball rolling
and steered that ball through its first very rough chapters.
Dawn Schanafelt then took the helm and did the bulk of the
very necessary editing. Kristen Brown did a brilliant job
taking the book through production, aided by Gillian
McGarvey’s impressively tenacious copy editing. Working
with such talented, dedicated professionals has been an
honor and a privilege — and an education: the book would
have been so much easier to write if I’d known then what I
know now. Isn’t that always the way?
Many thanks to Amy Zielinski for making the author look
better than he deserves.
The book benefited from some very helpful feedback. So
much thanks to Christophe Viau, Tom Parslow, Peter Cook,
Ian Macinnes, and Ian Ozsvald.
I’d also like to thank the valiant bug hunters who answered
my appeal during Early Release. At time of writing, these
are Douglas Kelley, Pavel Suk, Brigham Hausman, Marco
Hemken, Noble Kennamer, Manfredi Biasutti, Matthew
Maldonado, and Geert Bauwens.
Introduction

This book aims to get you up to speed with what is, in my

opinion, the most powerful data visualization stack going:
Python and JavaScript. You’ll learn enough about big
libraries like Pandas and D3 to start crafting your own web
data visualizations and refining your own toolchain.
Expertise will come with practice, but this book presents a
shallow learning curve to basic competence.

NOTE
If you’re reading this, I’d love to hear any feedback you have. Please
post it to [email protected]. Thanks a lot.
You’ll also find a working copy of the Nobel visualization the book
literally and figuratively builds toward at
http://kyrandale.com/static/pyjsdataviz/index.html.

The bulk of this book tells one of the innumerable tales of

data visualization, one carefully selected to showcase some
powerful Python and JavaScript libraries and tools which
together form a toolchain. This toolchain gathers raw,
unrefined data at its start and delivers a rich, engaging web
visualization at its end. Like all tales of data visualization, it
is a tale of transformation — in this case, transforming a
basic Wikipedia list of Nobel Prize winners into an interactive
visualization, bringing the data to life and making
exploration of the prize’s history easy and fun.
A primary motivation for writing the book is the belief that,
whatever data you have and whatever story you want to tell
with it, the natural home for the visualizations you
transform it into is the Web. As a delivery platform, it is
orders of magnitude more powerful than what came before,
and this book aims to smooth the passage from desktop- or
server-based data analysis and processing to getting the
fruits of that labor out on the Web.
But the most ambitious aim of this book is to persuade you
that working with these two powerful languages toward the
goal of delivering powerful web visualizations is actually fun
and engaging.
I think many potential dataviz programmers assume there is
a big divide between web development and doing what they
would like to do, which is program in Python and JavaScript.
Web development involves loads of arcane knowledge about
markup languages, style scripts, and administration, and
can’t be done without tools with strange names like Gulp or
Yeoman. I aim to show that, these days, that big divide can
be collapsed to a thin and very permeable membrane,
allowing you to focus on what you do well: programming
stuff (see Figure P-1) with minimal effort, relegating the web
servers to data delivery.
Figure P-1. Here be webdev dragons
Who This Book Is For
First off, this book is for anyone with a reasonable grasp of
Python or JavaScript who wants to explore one of the most
exciting areas in the data-processing ecosystem right now:
the exploding field of data visualization for the Web. It’s also
about addressing some specific pain points that in my
experience are quite common.
When you get commissioned to write a technical book,
chances are your editor will sensibly caution you to think in
terms of pain points that your book could address. The two
key pain points of this book are best illustrated by way of a
couple of stories, including one of my own and one that has
been told to me in various guises by JavaScripters I know.
Many years ago, as an academic researcher, I came across
Python and fell in love. I had been writing some fairly
complex simulations in C++, and Python’s simplicity and
power was a breath of fresh air from all the boilerplate
Makefiles, declarations, definitions, and the like.
Programming became fun. Python was the perfect glue,
playing nicely with my C++ libraries (Python wasn’t then
and still isn’t a speed demon) and doing, with consummate
ease, all the stuff that is such a pain in low-level languages
(e.g., file I/O, database access, and serialization). I started
to write all my graphical user interfaces (GUIs) and
visualizations in Python, using wxPython, PyQt, and a whole
load of other refreshingly easy toolsets. Unfortunately,
although I think some of these tools are pretty cool and
would love to share them with the world, the effort required
to package them, distribute them, and make sure they still
work with modern libraries represents a hurdle I’m unlikely
to ever overcome.
At the time, there existed what in theory was the perfect
universal distribution system for the software I’d so lovingly
crafted — namely, the web browser. Web browsers were
(and are) available on pretty much every computer on
Earth, with their own built-in, interpreted programming
language: write once, run everywhere. But Python didn’t
play in the web browser’s sandpit and browsers were
incapable of ambitious graphics and visualizations, being
pretty much limited to static images and the odd jQuery
transformation. JavaScript was a “toy” language tied to a
very slow interpreter that was good for little DOM tricks but
certainly nothing approaching what I could do on the
desktop with Python. So that route was discounted, out of
hand. My visualizations wanted to be on the Web, but there
was no route through.
Fast forward a decade or so and, thanks to an arms race
initiated by Google and their V8 engine, JavaScript is now
orders of magnitude faster; in fact, it’s now an awful lot
faster than Python.1 HTML has also tidied up its act a bit, in
the guise of HTML5. It’s a lot nicer to work with, with much
less boilerplate code. What were loosely followed and
distinctly shaky protocols like Scalable Vector Graphics
(SVG) have firmed up nicely, thanks to powerful
visualization libraries, D3 in particular. Modern browsers are
obliged to work nicely with SVG and, increasingly, 3D in the
form of WebGL and its children such as THREE.js. The
visualizations I was doing in Python are now possible on
your local web browser, and the payoff is that, with very
little effort, they can be made accessible to every desktop,
laptop, smartphone, and tablet in the world.
So why aren’t Pythonistas flocking to get their data out
there in a form they dictate? After all, the alternative to
crafting it yourself is leaving it to somebody else, something
most data scientists I know would find far from ideal. Well,
first there’s that term web development, connoting
complicated markup, opaque stylesheets, a whole slew of
new tools to learn, IDEs to master. And then there’s
JavaScript itself, a strange language, thought of as little
more than a toy until recently and having something of the
neither fish nor fowl to it. I aim to take those pain points
head-on and show that you can craft modern web
visualizations (often single-page apps) with a very minimal
amount of HTML and CSS boilerplate, allowing you to focus
on the programming, and that JavaScript is an easy leap for
the Pythonista. But you don’t have to leap; Chapter 2 is a
language bridge that aims to help Pythonistas and
JavaScripters bridge the divide between the languages by
highlighting common elements and providing simple
translations.
The second story is a common one among JavaScript data
visualizers I know. Processing data in JavaScript is far from
ideal. There are few heavyweight libraries, and although
recent functional enhancements to the language make data
munging much more pleasant, there’s still no real data-
processing ecosystem to speak of. So there’s a distinct
asymmetry between the hugely powerful visualization
libraries available (D3, as ever, is the paramount library),
and the ability to clean and process any data delivered to
the browser. All of this mandates doing your data cleaning,
processing, and exploring in another language or with a
toolkit like Tableau, and this often devolves into piecemeal
forays into vaguely remembered Matlab, the steepish
learning curve that is R, or a Java library or two.
Toolkits like Tableau, although very impressive, are often, in
my experience, ultimately frustrating for programmers.
There’s no way to replicate in a GUI the expressive power of
a good, general-purpose programming language. Plus, what
if you want to create a little web server to deliver your
processed data? That means learning at least one new web-
development-capable language.
In other words, JavaScripters starting to stretch their data
visualization are looking for a complementary data-
processing stack that requires the least investment of time
and has the shallowest learning curve.
Minimal Requirements to Use This
Book
I always feel reluctant to place restrictions on people’s
explorations, particularly in the context of programming and
the Web, which is chock-full of autodidacts (how else would
one learn with the halls of academia being light years
behind the trends?), learning fast and furiously, gloriously
uninhibited by the formal constraints that used to apply to
learning. Python and JavaScript are pretty much as simple
as it gets, programming-language-wise, and are both top
candidates for best first language. There isn’t a huge
cognitive load in interpreting the code.
In that spirit, there are expert programmers who, without
any experience of Python and JavaScript, could consume
this book and be writing custom libraries within a week.
These are also the people most likely to ignore anything I
write here, so good luck to you people if you decide to make
the effort.
For beginner programmers, fresh to Python or JavaScript,
this book is probably too advanced for you, and I
recommend taking advantage of the plethora of books, web
resources, screencasts, and the like that make learning so
easy these days. Focus on a personal itch, a problem you
want to solve, and learn to program by doing — it’s the only
way.
For people who have programmed a bit in either Python or
JavaScript, my advised threshold to entry is that you have
used a few libraries together, understand the basic idioms
of your language, and can look at a piece of novel code and
generally get a hook on what’s going on — in other words,
Pythonistas who can use a few modules of the standard
library, and JavaScripters who can not only use JQuery but
understand some of its source code.
Why Python and JavaScript?
Why JavaScript is an easy question to answer. For now and
the foreseeable future, there is only one first class, browser-
based programming language. There have been various
attempts to extend, augment, and usurp, but good old,
plain-vanilla JS is still preeminent. If you want to craft
modern, dynamic, interactive visualizations and, at the
touch of a button, deliver them to the world, at some point
you are going to run into JavaScript. You might not need to
be a Zen master, but basic competence is a fundamental
price of entry into one of the most exciting areas of modern
data science. This book hopes to get you into the ballpark.
Why Not Python on the Browser?
There are currently some very impressive initiatives aimed
at enabling Python-produced visualizations, often built on
Matplotlib, to run in the browser. They achieve this by
converting the Python code into JavaScript based on the
canvas or svg drawing contexts. The most popular and mature
of these are Bokeh and the recently open-sourced Plotly.
While these are both brilliant initiatives, I feel that in order
to do web-based dataviz, you have to bite the JavaScript
bullet to exploit the increasing potential of the medium.
That’s why, along with space constraints, I’m not covering
the Python-to-JavaScript dataviz converters.
While there is some brilliant coding behind these JavaScript
converters and many solid use cases, they do have big
limitations:
Automated code conversion may well do the job, but the
code produced is usually pretty impenetrable for a
human being.

Adapting and customizing the resulting plots using the

powerful browser-based JavaScript development
environment is likely to be very painful.

You are limited to the subset of plot types currently

available in the libraries.

Interactivity is very basic at the moment. Stitching this

together is better done in JavaScript, using the
browser’s developer tools.

Bear in mind that the people building these libraries have to

be JavaScript experts, so if you want to understand anything
of what they’re doing and eventually express yourself, then
you’ll have to get up to scratch with some JavaScript.
My basic take-home message regarding Python-to-
JavaScript conversion is that it has its place but would only
be generally justified if JavaScript were 10 times harder to
program than it is. The fiddly, iterative process of creating a
modern browser-based data visualization is hard enough
using a first-class language without having to negotiate an
indirect journey through a second-class one.
Why Python for Data Processing
Why you should choose Python for your data-processing
needs is a little more involved. For a start, there are good
alternatives as far as data processing is concerned. Let’s
deal with a few candidates for the job, starting with the
enterprise behemoth Java.

Java
Among the other main, general-purpose programming
languages, only Java offers anything like the rich ecosystem
of libraries that Python does, with considerably more native
speed too. But while Java is a lot easier to program in than
languages like C++, it isn’t, in my opinion, a particularly
nice language to program in, having rather too much in the
way of tedious boilerplate code and excessive verbiage. This
sort of thing starts to weigh heavily after a while and makes
for a hard slog at the code face. As for speed, Python’s
default interpreter is slow, but Python is a great glue
language that plays nicely with other languages. This ability
is demonstrated by the big Python data-processing libraries
like NumPy (and its dependent, Pandas), Scipy, and the like,
which use C++ and Fortran libraries to do the heavy lifting
while providing the ease of use of a simple, scripting
language.

R
The venerable R has, until recently, been the tool of choice
for many data scientists and is probably Python’s main
competitor in the space. Like Python, R benefits from a very
active community, some great tools like the plotting library
ggplot, and a syntax specially crafted for data science and
statistics. But this specialism is a double-edged sword.
 Another Random Document on
Scribd Without Any Related Topics
with their bold looks, and hair falling to their breasts in curly locks as
they laid aside their weapons, were the admiration of all. Even the
gloomy Kulkhan seemed cheerful: he introduced his son to us, and
after Hadji Bilal had bestowed his benediction upon him, we
separated. The next morning we were to proceed from Gömüshtepe,
accompanied by Kulkhan, his son, and stolen horses, to Etrek.

{70}
 CHAPTER VI.

DEPARTURE FROM GÖMÜSHTEPE

CHARACTER OF OUR LATE HOST
TURKOMAN MOUNDS OR TOMBS
DISAGREEABLE ADVENTURE WITH WILD BOARS
PLATEAU TO THE NORTH OF GÖMÜSHTEPE
NOMAD HABITS
TURKOMAN HOSPITALITY
THE LAST GOAT
PERSIAN SLAVE
COMMENCEMENT OF THE DESERT
A TURKOMAN WIFE AND SLAVE
ETREK
PERSIAN SLAVES
RUSSIAN SAILOR SLAVE
PROPOSED ALLIANCE BETWEEN YOMUTS AND TEKKE
RENDEZVOUS WITH THE KERVANBASHI
TRIBE KEM
ADIEU TO ETREK
AFGHAN MAKES MISCHIEF
DESCRIPTION OF KARAVAN.

Gens confinis Hyrcaniae, cultu vitae aspera et latrociniis

assueta.-- Q. Curtii Ruf. lib. vi. cap. 5.
 [Departure from Gömüshtepe; Character of our late Host]

At noon the following day I left Gömüshtepe with my most intimate

fellow-travellers, accompanied for some time by Khandjan and all my
other friends. Kandjan went on foot with us nearly a league on our
way, as is the custom amongst the nomads in the case of very
esteemed guests. I entreated him several times to return, but
fruitlessly; he insisted upon punctually fulfilling all the rules of ancient
Turkoman hospitality, that I might never afterwards have any ground
of complaint against him. To say the truth, my heart was very heavy
when I extricated myself from his last embrace, for I had known in
him one of the most honourable of men. Without any interested
motive, he had not only for a long time entertained me and five other
pilgrims in his own {71} house, but had given me every explanation
that I had required. I feel even now pained that I cannot make him
any return for his kindness, but still more that I was forced to deceive
so sincere a friend by any mystery.

[Turkoman Mounds or Tombs; Disagreeable Adventure with

Wild Boars]

Our path was north-easterly, departing more and more from the sea-
shore, in the direction of the two great mounds, of which one bears
the name of Köresofi, the other that of Altin Tokmak. Besides these
mounds, one discovers here and there numerous Joszka (Turkoman
barrows); with these exceptions, the district is one boundless flat.
Scarcely a quarter of a league from Gömüshtepe, we found ourselves
proceeding through splendid meadows, where the grass was as high
as the knee, and of a delicious odour. It all withers away without
being of service to any one, for the inhabitants of Gömüshtepe are
Tchomru (that is, not cattle-breeders). What lovely villages might
flourish in this well-watered district; what animated life might here
reign, instead of the stillness of death! Our small karavan, consisting
of the camels belonging to Ilias and of six horses, kept close
together, for Kulkhan affirmed that there were hereabouts Karaktchis
who were not under his orders, and who would assail him if they felt
themselves strong enough to do so. Ilias, this once, was pleased to
spare me my ride upon the camel; he took from Kulkhan one of the
stolen horses, upon which I was to ride as far as Etrek. Unfortunately,
as it happened, Emir Mehemmed, the Afghan opium-eater from
Karatepe, who had already fastened himself upon our karavan, had
remained on foot, and whenever we had to traverse any puddle or
other wet ground, I could not refuse to take him on my saddle, and
then he grasped my clothes so tightly that I often {72} thought I
should be thrown down. This partnership ride made me run much
risk when we were obliged to cut our way through the great
marshes, covered with reeds, which swarmed with herds of wild
boars, numerous beyond conception. Kulkhan and Ilias rode before,
to find a circuitous way, to enable us to avoid hundreds of these
animals, whose proximity we perceived, not only by their incessant
grunting, but more especially by the cracking sound caused by their
movements amongst the reeds. Whilst I was riding on with attentive
ear, my horse suddenly shied and took a great bound sideways. I had
hardly time to look round to ascertain the cause, when I and my
comrade lay stretched upon the ground. The loud laughter of my
companions, who were a few paces from us, mingled with a strange
howling. I turned myself round, and found that I had been thrown
upon two wild boars of tender age; it was their mother that had
caused our horse to shy, but now, rendered savage by the cry of her
young ones, she stood showing her tusks at no great distance from
us, and would most certainly have charged us, had not Shirdjan, the
cousin of Ilias, come to our aid, and barred the way with his
extended lance. Whether it was owing to the bravery of the young
Turkoman, or the silence of the young pigs--now liberated from their
constrained position--I cannot say, but the incensed mother beat a
retreat, and, with her face still to the foe, hastened back to her lair,
which we had not been slow to abandon. Kulkhan's son had in the
meantime secured our horse, that had escaped. He restored him to
me with the remark that 'I might regard myself as lucky, for that a
death by the wound of a wild boar would send even the most pious
Musselman nedjis (unclean) {73} into the next world, where a
hundred years' burning in purgatorial fire would not purge away his
uncleanness.'

Intruding upon the Haunts of the wild Boar.

[Plateau to the North of Gömüshtepe; Nomad Habits]

After having continued our way for about four hours in the above-
named direction, amidst marshes and meadows, I noticed that we
had gained the sloping sides of the plateau that extends north from
Gömüshtepe, for not only the elevations, but the Persian mountains
on the frontiers themselves, began gradually to disappear; only a few
groups of tents, in the vicinity of which camels were grazing, were
visible at a great distance, and although, on all the four sides, the
most lovely verdure enchanted the eye, the eastern district which I
had visited before with Kizil Akhond, is far more thickly peopled.
There being no river like the Görghen, the well-water, of which the
people make use, is exhausted by the time the rich meadows have
sufficiently fattened their sheep. Tents, consequently, are only to be
seen here in May and in June. One of these groups of tents, peopled
by the dependents of Kulkhan, was to give us shelter this night, as
Etrek was still six miles [Footnote 17] distant--a whole day's journey
for our heavily-laden camels. Due notice had been given of our
approach, and my hungry fellow-travellers soon saw in the rising
smoke the prospect of a good supper. Although Gömüshtepe is only
four miles distant from this spot, the journey took us nearly eight
hours, and this first ride had tolerably wearied both man and beast.

[Footnote 17: The reader is requested to understand,

here and elsewhere, German miles.]

[Turkoman Hospitality; The last Goat]

The young nephew of Kulkhan advanced ten paces before the tents
to welcome us; and, whilst Ilias and the Afghan were the special
guests of Kulkhan, I was quartered with the Hadjis in the small tent
of Allah Nazr. {74} This old Turkoman was beside himself from joy
that heaven had sent him guests; the recollection of that scene will
never pass from my mind. In spite of our protestations to the
contrary, he killed a goat, the only one which he possessed, to
contribute to our entertainment. At a second meal, which we partook
with him next day, he found means to procure bread also, an article
that had not been seen for weeks in his dwelling. Whilst we attacked
the dish of meat, he seated himself opposite to us, and wept, in the
exactest sense of the expression, tears of joy. Allah Nazr would not
retain any part of the goat he had killed in honour of us. The horns
and hoofs, which were burned to ashes, and were to be employed for
the galled places on the camels, he gave to Ilias; but the skin,
stripped off in one piece, he destined to serve as my water-vessel,
and after having well rubbed it with salt, and dried it in the sun, he
handed it over to me.

[Persian Slave]
The arrival of a slave, one of the five of whom I spoke in the last
chapter, who had fallen into the snare so treacherously laid for them,
detained Kulkhan and our party a day. This poor Persian was
transferred, for chastisement, to Kulkhan, who had the peculiar
reputation of being able most easily to ascertain from a captive
whether he possessed sufficient means to enable his relatives to
ransom him, or whether, being without relatives or property, he ought
to be sent on to Khiva for sale.

The former alternative is much the more agreeable one to the

Turkomans, as they may demand any sum they please. The Persian,
who is cunning even in his misfortune, always contrives to conceal his
real position; he is therefore subjected to much ill-treatment, {75}
until by the lamentations which he forwards to his home his captors
have squeezed from his friends the highest possible ransom, and it is
only when that arrives that his torment ceases. The other alternative
is worse for both parties; the robber, after much expenditure, only
gets at last the current price in the slave-market, and the unfortunate
Persian is removed to a distance of some hundreds of miles from his
country, which he very rarely sees again. Kulkhan has, as before
mentioned, great experience in this department; his latest victim
arrived before evening, and the next day the journey was continued,
after I had been warmly embraced by Allah Nazr, who was just as
much a Turkoman as Kulkhan.

[Commencement of the Desert]

This day I took my seat for the first time in my wooden basket on the
camel, having, however, some sacks of flour for my equipoise, as
Hadji Bilal wished on this occasion to deprive himself of the pleasure.
Our route was always in a northerly direction, and we had scarcely
advanced two leagues, when the verdure ceased, and for the first
time we found ourselves in the dismal strong-smelling salt ground of
the wilderness. What our eyes encountered here was a good
specimen; a low foreland called Kara Sengher (black wall) elevated
itself at a distance of about eight miles to the north of Gömüshtepe.
The nearer we approached this hill, the looser the soil became; near
to its foot we fell upon a real morass, and our march was attended by
increasing difficulties in the slippery mud, in which the camels, with
their spongy feet, slid at each step--indeed, mine threatened to upset
both myself and my basket into the dirt. I preferred dismounting
proprio motu, and after tramping an hour and a half through the
mud, arrived at last at {76} Kara Sengher, whence we soon reached
the Ova of Kulkhan.

On arriving, I was greatly surprised by Kulkhan's immediately leading

me into his tent, and charging me earnestly not to quit it, until he
should call me. I began to suspect something wrong, when I heard
how he was cursing his women, accusing them of always mislaying
the chains, and ordering them to bring them to him immediately.
Searching gloomily for them he returned frequently to the tent
without addressing a word to me: moreover Hadji Bilal did not show
himself--he who so seldom left me to myself. Sunk in the most
anxious reflections, I at last heard the rattling sound of fetters
approaching, and saw the Persian who had come with us enter the
tent dragging with his wounded feet the heavy chains after him; for
he was the party on whose account Kulkhan was making these
preparations. He was not long in making his appearance. He ordered
tea to be prepared, and after we had partaken of it, he directed me
to rise, and led me to a tent which had been in the meantime set up;
he wished it to be a surprise for me. Such was the object he had in
view in his whole conduct. Notwithstanding this, I could never feel
any attachment to him, for how great the difference between him
and Khandjan clearly appeared from this, that during the ten days I
was his guest, this tea was the only repast Kulkhan's hospitality
accorded me. I was afterwards informed of his treacherous plans, to
which he would most certainly have given effect, had not Kizil
Akhond, whom he particularly dreaded, charged him to treat me with
every possible respect.

{77}
 [A Turkoman Wife and Slave]

The tent which I now occupied, in company with ten of my travelling

companions, did not belong to Kulkhan, but was the property of
another Turkoman who, with his wife--formerly his slave, sprung from
the tribe of the Karakalpak--joined our party for Khiva. I learnt that
their object in proceeding to Khiva was that this woman, who had
been carried off in a surprise by night and brought hither, might
ascertain whether her former husband, whom she had left severely
wounded, had afterwards perished; who had purchased her children,
and where they now were; and--which she was particularly anxious
to know--what had become of her daughter, a girl in her twelfth year,
whose beauty she described to me with tears in her eyes. The poor
woman, by extraordinary fidelity and laboriousness, had so enchained
her new master, that he consented to accompany her on her
sorrowful journey of enquiry. I was always asking him what he would
do if her former husband were forthcoming, but his mind on that
point was made up--the law guaranteed him his possession. 'The
Nassib (fate),' said he, 'intended to bestow on me Heidgul' (properly
Eidgul, 'rose of the festival'), 'and none can withstand Nassib.' There
was besides, amongst the other travellers freshly arrived, who were
to journey with Ilias, a Dervish named Hadji Siddik, a consummate
hypocrite, who went about half naked, and acted as groom to the
camels in the desert; it was not until after we had arrived in Bokhara
that we learnt that he had sixty ducats sewn up in his rags.

[Etrek; Persian Slaves]

The whole company inhabited the tents in common, expecting that

the Khan's Kervanbashi would come up as soon as possible, and that
we should commence our journey through the desert. The delay was
painful to us all. I became alarmed on account {78} of the decrease
of my stock of flour, and I began at once to diminish my daily
allowance by two handfuls. I also baked it without leaven in the hot
ashes; for the produce is greater, it remains longer on the stomach,
and hunger torments one less. Fortunately we could make short
mendicant excursions; nor had we the least reason to complain of
any lack of charity on the part of the Turkomans of Etrek, who are
notwithstanding the most notorious robbers. We passed, indeed, very
few of their tents without seeing in them two or three Persians
heavily laden with chains.

[Russian Sailor Slave]

It was also here in Etrek, in the tent of a distinguished Turkoman

named Kotchak Khan, that I encountered a Russian, formerly a sailor
in the naval station at Ashourada. We entered the above-named
chief's abode, to take our mid-day repose; and scarcely had I been
presented to him as a Roumi (Osmanli), when our host remarked;
'Now I will give thee a treat. We know the relation in which the
Osmanlis stand with the Russians: thou shalt behold one of thy arch-
enemies in chains.' I was forced to behave as if I was highly
delighted. The poor Russian was led in, heavily chained: his
countenance was sickly, and very sorrowful. I felt deeply moved, but
was careful not to betray my feelings by any expression. 'What would
you do with this Efendi,' said Kotchak Khan, 'if you encountered him
in Russia? Go and kiss his feet.' The unfortunate Russian was about
to approach me, but I forbade, making at the same time the
observation, I had only to-day begun my Gusl (great purification),
and that I did not want to render myself unclean by my contact with
this unbeliever; that it would even be more agreeable to me if he
disappeared immediately from before my eyes, for that this nation
{79} was my greatest aversion. They motioned him to withdraw,
which he accordingly did, throwing at me a sharp look. As I learnt
later, he was one of two sailors from the new station at Ashourada;
the other had died in captivity about a year before. They had fallen
into the hands of the Karaktchis some years previously, in one of their
night expeditions. Their government offered to ransom them, but the
Turkomans demanded an exorbitant sum (five hundred ducats for
one); and as during the negotiation Tcherkes Bay, the brother of
Kotshak Khan, was sent by the Russians to Siberia, where he died,
the liberation of the unfortunate Christians became matter of still
greater difficulty; and now the survivor will soon succumb under the
hardships of his captivity, as his comrade has done before him.
[Footnote 18]

[Footnote 18: When I afterwards drew the attention of

the Russians to the occurrence, they laboured to
excuse themselves, saying that they did not desire to
accustom the Turkomans to such large ransoms, for
that with any encouragement these bold robbers would
devote themselves night and day to their profitable
depredations.]

Such are the ever-fluctuating impressions of hospitable virtues and

unheard-of barbarisms produced by these nomads upon the minds of
travellers! Sated and overflowing with their kindness and charity, I
often returned to our abode, when Kulkhan's Persian slave, already
mentioned, would perhaps implore me for a drop of water, as,
according to his tale, they had for two entire days given him dried
salt fish instead of bread, and although he had been forced to work
the whole day in the melon fields, they had denied him even a drop
of water. Luckily I was alone in the tent; the sight of the bearded
man bathed in tears made me forget all risks: I handed him my
water-skin, and he {80} satisfied his thirst whilst I kept watch at the
door. Then thanking me warmly, he hastened away. This unfortunate
man, maltreated by every one, was especially tormented by Kulkhan's
second wife, herself once a Persian slave, who was desirous of
showing how zealous a convert she had become.

Even in Gömüshtepe these cruel scenes were loathsome to me:

judge, then, how my feelings must have revolted when I learnt to
regard the last-named place as the extreme of humanity and
civilisation! Tents and dwellers therein became objects of loathing to
me.

[Proposed Alliance between Yomuts and Tekke]

Still no news came of the arrival of the Kervanbashi, although all who
had desired to join our karavan were already assembled. New friends
were greeted and reciprocal acquaintances formed; and very often
did I hear the question mooted as to the route likely to be selected
by the Kervanbashi. We were engaged in one of these conversations,
when one of the Etrekites brought us the cheering intelligence that
the Tekke, whose hostility is the dread of the karavans during the
greatest part of their journey to Khiva, had sent a peaceful embassy
to the Yomuts, proposing, at length, a reconciliation, and an attack
with combined forces, upon their common enemy, the Persians.

As I propose to touch upon this political transaction in the next

chapter, suffice it here to say, that the occurrence was incidentally of
the greatest advantage to us. They explained to me that there were
from Etrek to Khiva three different ways, the choice between them
being determined by considerations as to the numbers forming the
karavan.

{81}

[Rendezvous with the Kervanbashi]

The routes are as follows:--

1. The first, close along the shore of the Caspian, behind the greater
Balkan, which direction it follows for a two days' journey towards the
north from these mountains, and then, after proceeding ten days, the
traveller has to turn to the east, in which quarter Khiva lies. This way
is only accessible for the smaller karavans, as it affords but little
water, but presents as little danger from attacks, except in times of
extraordinary revolutions, when the Kasaks (Kirghis) or the
Karakalpaks send hither their Alaman.

2. The middle route, which follows a northerly direction only as far as

the original ancient channel of the Oxus, and then, passing between
the Great and the Little Balkhan, turns to the north-east towards
Khiva.

3. The third is the straight route and the shortest; for while we
require twenty-four days for the first, and twenty for the second, this
one may be performed in fourteen. Immediately on leaving Etrek one
takes a north-easterly direction, through the Göklen and Tekke
Turkomans. At every station wells of sweet drinkable water occur. Of
course a karavan must be on good terms with the tribes above
named, and must count from two to three thousand men, otherwise
the passage is impossible. How great then was my joy, when one
evening a messenger from Ata-bay brought us the intelligence that
the Kervanbashi would leave his encampment early the following
morning, and would give us rendezvous the day after at noon, on the
opposite bank of the Etrek, whence we were to proceed all together
upon our great journey through the desert! Ilias issued orders for us
all to complete our preparations as speedily as possible. We therefore
that very same evening got our bread ready; we once more salted
our large pieces of camel-flesh, which we had received from the
nomads in payment for the benedictions we had lavished on them.
Who then was {82} happier than I, when the next day I mounted the
kedjeve with Hadji Bilal, and in my creaking seat slowly left Etrek,
borne forwards by the wave-like pace of the camel?

For the sake of security, Kulkhan was pleased to regard it as

necessary to give us his escort for this day; for although we
numbered from fifteen to twenty muskets, it was yet very possible
that we might have to encounter a superior force of robbers, in which
case the presence of Kulkhan might prove of the most important
service, as the greater part of the Etrek bandits were under his
spiritual guidance, and followed his orders blindfold. I had almost
forgotten to mention that our Kulkhan was renowned, not only as the
grey-beard of the Karaktchi, but also as Sofi (ascetic), a title he bore
upon his seal: of the pious appellation he was not a little proud. I had
indeed before my eyes one of the best-defined pictures of hypocrisy
when I saw Kulkhan, the author of so many cruelties, sitting there
amongst his spiritual disciples: he who had ruined the happiness of
so many families, expounding what was prescribed respecting the
holy purifications, and the ordinances directing the close cutting of
the moustache! Teacher and scholar seemed alike inspired. In the
confident assurances of their own piety, how many of these robbers
were already dreaming of their sweet rewards in Paradise!

[Tribe Kem]

To avoid the marshes formed by the overflowing of the Etrek, our

route turned now to the north-west, now to the north-east, for the
most part over a sandy district on which very few tents were visible;
on the edge of the desert we observed about 150 tents of the
Turkoman clan Kem. I was told that this race had time out of mind
separated itself from the Yomut {83} Turkomans, to whom they
properly belonged, and had inhabited the edge of the desert; their
great propensity to thieving is the cause why all the other tribes
make war upon them and treat them as enemies, so that their
numbers never increase. Near their resorts we came upon many
stragglers from our karavan, who did not dare to pass on without our
company; and according to all appearances the Kemites would have
assailed us, had they not seen at our head Kulkhan, the mighty
scarecrow.

A quarter of an hour's journey from their encampment farther to the

north, we crossed a little arm of the Etrek, whose waters had already
begun to have a very salt taste, a sign that its bed would soon be
dry. The interval between its farther bank and a second and still
smaller arm of the same river is alternately a salt bottom and a fine
meadow, thickly overgrown with monstrous fennel, which took us a
whole hour to traverse. This deep stream was like a ditch, and on
account of its stiff loamy bank presented considerable impediments
to our progress; several camels fell with their loads into the water: it
was shallow, but still the wetting they received rendered the packs
heavier and added greatly to our labour in reaching the hill on the
opposite side, named Delili Burun. By two o'clock in the afternoon we
had only advanced four miles on our way, notwithstanding our early
start in the morning; nevertheless the resolution was taken to make a
halt here, as it was only the next morning at mid-day that we were to
meet the Kervanbashi on the other side of the Etrek.

{84}

The hill above named, which is but a sort of promontory jutting out
from a long chain of inconsiderable hills stretching to the south-east,
affords an extensive and fine view. To the west we discover the
Caspian Sea like a range of blue clouds; the mountains of Persia are
also distinguishable: but the greatest interest attaches to the
mountain plain to our south, whose limit the eye cannot discern, on
which the scattered groups of tents in many places have the
appearance of mole-hills. Almost the whole of Etrek, with the river
flowing through it, lies before us, and the places where the river
spreads over both banks produce upon the eye the effect of lakes. As
we were near the encampment of the Kem, we were counselled by
Kulkhan, who thought proper to tarry with us this one more night, to
keep a sharp look-out; and evening had not closed in before we
posted watches, which, relieved from time to time, observed every
movement around us.

Understanding that this station formed the last outpost towards the
Great Desert, I profited by the opportunity which the return of our
escort afforded, and spent the afternoon in writing letters whilst my
companions were sleeping. Besides the small pieces of paper
concealed in the wool of my Bokhariot dress for the purpose of notes,
I had two sheets of blank paper in the Koran which was suspended
from my neck in a little bag: upon these I wrote two letters, one to
Haydar Effendi, addressed to Teheran, and the second to Khandjan,
requesting him to forward the former. [Footnote 19]

[Footnote 19: Upon my return I found at the Turkish

Embassy this letter, acquainting my friends with my
being about to commence my journey in the desert, as
well as other communications which I had sent on from
 Gömüshtepe. My good friend Khandjan had forwarded
them with the greatest zeal and exactitude.]

{85}

The next morning a four hours' march brought us to the banks of the
Etrek, properly so called. A good deal of time was devoted to finding
the shallowest points where the river could be most readily forded, a
task by no means easy, for although the usual breadth of the river is
only from twelve to fifteen paces, this was now doubled by the water
having overflowed its banks, and the softened loamy ground caused
a real martyrdom to the poor camels, so that our Turkomans were
justified in their long hesitation. The current, indeed, was not very
strong, still the water came up to the bellies of the camels; and the
uncertain wavering steps of our labouring, wading animals dipped our
kedjeve now on the right side, now on the left, into the troubled
waters of the Etrek: one false step and I should have been plunged
into mud and dirt, and at no small risk have had to make my way by
swimming to the opposite bank. Happily all crossed in good order,
and scarcely had we come to a halt when the anxiously-expected
karavan of the Kervanbashi came in sight, having in its van three
buffaloes (two cows and a bull), to whose health-promising advent
the sick Lord of Khiva could hardly look forward with greater
impatience than we had done.

The reader will remember that Hadji Bilal, Yusuf, some foot travellers
and myself, had been obliged to separate from the main body of our
Dervish karavan, because the others had found greater difficulties
than myself in finding camels to hire. As we had heard no tidings of
them in Etrek, we began to be anxious lest these poor people might
have no opportunity of following us. We were, therefore, greatly
rejoiced to see them all coming up in good condition in the karavan
that now joined us. We kissed and hugged one another with the
heartiness of brethren who meet {86} after a long separation. My
emotion was great when I once more saw around me the Hadji Salih
and Sultan Mahmoud, and all the others too; yes, all my mendicant
companions; for, although I regarded Hadji Bilal as my dearest friend,
I was compelled to avow to myself my warm attachment to them all,
without distinction.

[Adieu to Etrek]

As the river Etrek afforded us the last opportunity of sweet water

until, after twenty days' journey, we should refresh ourselves on the
banks of the Oxus, I counselled my companions not to let the
opportunity slip, but at least, this last time, to drink our fill of tea. We
therefore brought forward the tea-vessels, I proffered my fresh-baked
bread, and long afterwards did we remember the luxury and
abundance of this festival held in honour of our meeting.

[Afghan makes Mischief]

In the meantime also arrived the Kervanbashi who was to be our

leader and protector in the desert. As I attached great importance to
being presented to him under good auspices, I went amongst the
others accompanied by Hadji Salih and Messud, who had mentioned
me to him on the way. Let the reader then picture to himself my
wonder and alarm when Amandurdi (such was his name), a corpulent
and good-tempered Turkoman, although he greeted my friends with
great distinction, received me with striking coldness; and the more
Hadji Salih was disposed to turn the conversation upon me, the more
indifferent he became: he confined himself to saying, 'I know this
Hadji already.' I made an effort not to betray my embarrassment. I
was about to withdraw, when I noticed the angry glances that Ilias,
who was present, darted at the Emir Mehemmed, the crazy opium-
eater, whom he thus signalised as the cause of what had just
occurred.

{87}

We withdrew, and hardly had the occurrence been recounted to Hadji

Bilal, when he grew angry and exclaimed, 'This wretched sot of an
Afghan has already expressed himself in Etrek to the effect that our
Hadji Reshid, who was able to give him instructions in the Koran and
in Arabic, was only a Frenghi in disguise' (thereupon adding, three
different times, the phrase Estag farullah! 'God pardon me my sins');
'and in spite of my assuring him that we had received him from the
hands of the ambassador of our great Sultan, and that he had with
him a pass sealed with the seal of the Khalife, [Footnote 20] he still
refuses to believe and persists in his defamation. As I remark, he has
gained the ear of the Kervanbashi, but he shall repent it on our
arrival in Khiva, where there are Kadis and Ulemas; we shall teach
him there what the consequence is of representing a pious
Musselman as an unbeliever.'

[Footnote 20: Follower of Mahomed, that is, the Sultan

of Constantinople.]

I now began to understand the whole mystery. Emir Mehemmed,

born at Kandahar, had, after the occupation of his native city by the
English, been compelled to fly on account of some crime he had
committed. He had had frequent opportunities of seeing Europeans,
and had recognised me as a European by my features. Consequently,
from the very first moment he regarded me as a secret emissary
travelling with hidden treasures under my mendicant disguise, one
whom he might succeed in plundering at any time he wished, as he
would always have at his service a formidable menace, namely,
'denunciation.' Often had he counselled me to separate from those
mendicants, and to join his own society; but I never omitted replying
that Dervish and merchant were elements too {88} heterogeneous to
offer any prospect of a suitable partnership; that it would be
impossible to speak of sincere friendship until he had given up his
vicious habit of opium-eating, and devoted himself to pious
purifications and prayers. The resolute stand I took--and indeed I had
no other course--made him furious; and as from his impiety he was
the object of the Hadjis' aversion, I can only regard his notorious
enmity as a particular instance of good fortune.
 [Description of Karavan.]

About two hours after this occurrence, the Kervanbashi, who now
assumed the command over the whole karavan, pointed out to us
that everyone ought to fill his water-skin with water, as we should not
come to another well for three days. I therefore took my goat-skin
and went with the rest to the stream. Never having hitherto suffered
much from the torment of thirst, I was filling it carelessly, when my
colleagues repaired my error with the remark that in the desert every
drop of water had life in it, and that this fount of existence should be
kept by everyone as the 'apple of his eye.' The preparations
completed, the camels were packed, the Kervanbashi had them
counted, and we found that we possessed eighty camels, that we
were forty travellers in all, amongst whom twenty-six were Hadjis
without weapons, and the rest tolerably armed Turkomans of the
tribe Yomut, with one Özbeg and one Afghan. Consequently we
formed one of those small karavans, that set out on their way in right
Oriental fashion, leaving everything to fate.

When we had all seated ourselves, we had still to take leave of our
Turkoman escort, who had led us to the margin of the desert. The
Fatiha of the farewell was intoned on the one side by Hadji Bilal, and
on the other by Kulkhan.

{89}

After the last Amen had been said, and had been followed by the
inseparable stroking of the beard, the two parties divided in contrary
directions; and when our late escort had recrossed the Etrek and lost
sight of us, they sent a few shots after us as a farewell. From this
point we proceeded in a straight direction towards the north. For
further information on the political and social relations of the
Turkomans, I beg to refer the reader to the Second Part of this
volume.
{90}
 CHAPTER VII.

KERVANBASHI INSISTS THAT AUTHOR SHOULD TAKE NO

NOTES
EID MEHEMMED AND HIS BROTHER'S NOBLE CONDUCT
GUIDE LOSES HIS WAY
KÖRENTAGHI, ANCIENT RUINS, PROBABLY GREEK
LITTLE AND GREAT BALKAN
ANCIENT BED OF THE OXUS
VENDETTA
SUFFERINGS FROM THIRST.

C'était une obscurité vaste comme la mer, au sein de

laquelle le guide s'égarait . . . où périt le voyageur
effrayé .--Victor Hugo, from Omaiah hen Aiedz.

[Kervanbashi insists that Author should take no Notes]

Without being able to discover the slightest trace of a path indicated

by foot of camel or hoof of other animal, our karavan proceeded
towards the north, directing its course in the day by the sun, and at
night by the pole star. The latter is called by the Turkomans, from its
immovability, Temir kazik (the iron peg). The camels were attached to
one another in a long row, and led by a man on foot; and, although
there was no positive place of honour, it was regarded as a certain
sort of distinction to be placed near the Kervanbashi. The districts on
the further side of Etrek, which form the foreground of the Great
Desert, are indicated by the name of Bogdayla. We proceeded for
two hours after sunset over a sandy bottom, which was not however
particularly loose, and which presented an undulating, wavy surface,
in no place of much elevation. By degrees the sand disappeared, and
about midnight we had so firm a clayey soil under us, {91} that the
regulated tread of the distant camels echoed as if some one was
beating time in the still night. The Turkomans name such spots Takir;
and as the one on which we were had a reddish colour, it bore the
name Kizil-takir. We marched uninterruptedly till it was nearly dawn
of day; altogether we had hardly advanced six miles, as they did not
wish at the outset to distress the camels, but especially because the
greatest personages in our company of travellers were
unquestionably the buffaloes, of which one was in an interesting
situation, and could not with her unwieldy body keep up even with
the ordinary step of the camel,--consequently there was a halt for
repose until eight o'clock in the morning; and whilst the camels were
eating their fill of thistles and other plants of the desert, we had time
to take our breakfast, which had not yet ceased to be luxurious, as
our skins were still richly stored with fresh water, and so our heavy
unleavened bread slipped down aided by its sweet draughts. As we
had encamped close together, I remarked that the Kervanbashi, Ilias,
and the chiefs of my companions, were conversing, and, as they did
so, kept casting glances at me. It was easy for me to divine the
subject of their conversation. I pretended, however, to pay no
attention; and after having for some time fervently turned over the
leaves of the Koran, I made a movement as if I had proposed to take
part in the conversation. When I had approached a few steps, I was
met by honest Ilias and Hadji Salih, who called me aside and told me
that the Kervanbashi was making many objections to my joining him
on the journey to Khiva, my appearance seeming suspicious to him;
and he particularly feared the anger of the Khan, as he had some
years before {92} conducted a Frenghi envoy to Khiva, who, in that
single journey, took off a faithful copy of the whole route, and with
his diabolical art had not forgotten to delineate any well or any hill on
the paper. This had very much incensed the Khan; he had had two
men executed who had betrayed information, and the Kervanbashi
himself had only escaped with his life owing to the intercession of
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