given the seat of
honor opposite the doorway, bolstered up with blankets and pillows. By the
light of the fire curling its smoke upward through the central opening in
the roof, it was interesting to note the faces of our hosts. We had never
met a people of a more peaceful temperament, and, on the other hand, none
more easily frightened. A dread of the evil eye is one of their
characteristics. We had not been settled long before the _ishan_, or
itinerant dervish, was called in to drive away the evil spirits, which the
"devil's carts" might possibly have brought. Immediately on entering, he
began to shrug his shoulders, and to shiver as though passing into a state
of trance. Our dervish acquaintance was a man of more than average
intelligence. He had traveled in India, and had even heard some one speak
of America. This fact alone was sufficient to warrant him in posing as
instructor for the rest of the assembly. While we were drinking tea, a
habit they have recently adopted from the Russians, he held forth at great
length to his audience about the _Amerikon_.

The rain now began to descend in torrents. The felt covering was drawn
over the central opening, and propped up at one end with a pole to emit
the clouds of smoke from the smoldering fire. This was shifted with the
veering wind. Although a mere circular rib framework covered with white or
brown felt, according as the occupant is rich or poor, the Kirghiz
kibitka, or more properly _yurt_, is not as a house builded upon the sand,
even in the fiercest storm. Its stanchness and comfort are surprising when
we consider the rapidity with which it may be taken down and transported.
In half an hour a whole village may vanish, emigrating northward in
summer, and southward in winter. Many a Kirghiz cavalcade was overtaken on
the road, with long tent-ribs and felts tied upon the backs of two-humped
camels, for the Bactrian dromedary has not been able to endure the
severities of these Northern climates. The men would always be mounted on
the camels' or horses' backs, while the women would be perched on the oxen
and bullocks, trained for the saddle and as beasts of burden. The men
never walk; if there is any leading to be done it falls to the women. The
constant use of the saddle has made many of the men bandy-legged, which,
in connection with their usual obesity,--with them a mark of dignity,--gives
them a comical appearance.

After their curiosity regarding us had been partly