ead, and all heads bowed toward
Mecca. The only preparation for retiring was the spreading of blankets
from the pile in one of the kibitkas. The Kirghiz are not in the habit of
removing many garments for this purpose, and under the circumstances we
found this custom a rather convenient one. Six of us turned in on the
floor together, forming a semicircle, with our feet toward the fire.
"Kumiss John," who was evidently the pet of the household, had a rudely
constructed cot at the far end of the kibitka.

Vernoye, the old Almati, with its broad streets, low wood and brick
houses, and Russian sign-boards, presented a Siberian aspect. The ruins of
its many disastrous earthquakes lying low on every hand told us at once
the cause of its deserted thoroughfares. The terrible shocks of the year
before our visit killed several hundred people, and a whole mountain in
the vicinity sank. The only hope of its persistent residents is a branch
from the Transsiberian or Transcaspian railroad, or the reannexation by
Russia of the fertile province of Ili, to make it an indispensable depot.
Despite these periodical calamities, Vernoye has had, and is now
constructing, under the genius of the French architect, Paul L. Gourdet,
some of the finest edifices to be found in central Asia. The orphan
asylum, a magnificent three-story structure, is now being built on
experimental lines, to test its strength against earthquake shocks.

[Illustration: FANTASTIC RIDING AT THE SUMMER ENCAMPMENT OF THE
COSSACKS.]

One of the chief incidents of our pleasant sojourn was afforded by
Governor Ivanoff. We were invited to head the procession of the Cossacks
on their annual departure for their summer encampment in the mountains.
After the usual religious ceremony, they filed out from the city
parade-ground. Being unavoidably detained for a few moments, we did not
come up until some time after the column had started. As we dashed by to
the front with the American and Russian flags fluttering side by side from
the handle-bars, cheer after cheer arose from the ranks, and even the
governor and his party doffed their caps in acknowledgment. At the camp we
were favored with a special exhibition of horsemanship. By a single twist
of the rein the steeds would fall to the ground, and their riders crouch
down behind them as a bulwark in battle. Then dashing forward at full
speed, they would spring to the ground, and leap back again into the
saddle, or, hanging by t