grass thrives luxuriantly. The black tents of the Kirghizes stand
scattered about like spots on a panther's skin. I hired one of these
tents for the summer of 1904, and spent several very interesting months
in studying the habits and mode of life of the people. If the weather
was fine, I made long excursions on horseback or on a yak, and compiled
a map of the surrounding country. If rain poured down, I kept inside my
own tent, or visited my Kirghiz neighbours and talked with them, for by
that time I had learned to speak their language.

Round the large hive-shaped tents fierce dogs keep watch, and small
naked sunburnt children tumble about in play. They are charmingly sweet,
and it is hard to believe that they will grow up into tall rough
half-wild Kirghizes. But all children are attractive and lovable before
life and mankind have hardened them. In the tent sit the young women,
spinning thread or weaving cloth; the older women are busy with the sour
milk and butter behind a partition in the tent, or perhaps they are
sitting round a pot, cooking meat. A fire is always burning in the
middle of the tent, and the smoke finds its way out through a round
opening in the top. The young men are out with the sheep or are looking
after the yaks grazing in the mountains. The older men repair saddles
and boots, make harness for horses or household utensils. Sometimes they
go hunting after wild sheep and goats. When the sun sets the sheep are
driven into folds near the tent; the women milk the ewes and yak-cows.
During the night a watch is kept on account of the wolves. The Kirghizes
are Mohammedans, and are often heard intoning Arabic prayers outside the
tents.

Not many days had passed before I was on friendly terms with all the
Kirghizes. They perceived that I wished them well, and was glad to live
among them. They came from far and near and gave me presents--sheep and
milk, wild sheep they had shot, and mountain partridges. All my servants
except Islam Bay were Kirghizes, and they followed me willingly wherever
I chose to travel.

One day the chiefs of the Kirghizes decided to hold a grand festival in
my honour. It was to be a _baiga_, or gymkhana, and early in the morning
small parties of horsemen were seen gathering to the great plain where
the wild sport was to take place.

When the sun was at its height I was escorted to the arena by forty-two
Kirghizes, who rode beside and behind me. In their best clothes,
coloured man