barefooted men
who had driven four asses northwards.

It was hopeless to try and overtake these wayfarers, and therefore I
followed their track in the opposite direction. I travelled more quickly
than usual, the evening was calm and still, twilight fell over the wood.
At a jutting point of the bank I seemed to hear an unusual sound, and
held my breath to listen. But the wood was still sad and dreary.
"Perhaps it was a warbler or a thrush," I thought, and walked on. A
little later I pulled up again. This time I heard quite plainly a man's
voice and the low of a cow. I quickly pulled on my wet boots and rushed
into the wood. A flock of sheep watched by its shepherd was feeding on
an open glade among the trees. The man seemed petrified at first when he
saw me, and then he turned on his heels and vanished among the
brushwood.

After a while he came back with an older shepherd, and I gave them an
account of my adventures and begged for bread. They did not know what to
believe, but they took me to their hut and gave me maize bread and ewe's
milk.

The best thing of all, however, was that three traders rode up next day,
and I learned from them that some days previously they had discovered a
dying man beside a white camel on the bank of the river. It was Islam
Bay! They had given him water and food, and the following day both he
and Kasim appeared in my hut. Our delight was great, though we mourned
for our comrades who had died of thirst in the desert.

VIII

THE DESERT WATERWAY (1899)

DOWN THE YARKAND RIVER

No doubt you remember the village of Merket, where we set out on pur
fatal march through the Takla-makan desert in 1895. In September, 1899,
I was again at this village with a large caravan and many servants, my
plan on this occasion being to travel through the whole of Eastern
Turkestan by water. The waterway I intended to use was the river which
in its upper course is called the Yarkand, and in its lower the Tarim.

At the village a great caravan route crosses the river, and flat
ferry-boats convey travellers with their animals and goods from one bank
to the other. I bought one of the ferry-boats, and had it converted into
a floating home for our journey of more than a thousand miles (Plate
X.). It was 36 feet long by 8-1/2 broad, and was like a huge trough
built of rough planks. A floor of boards was laid in the bow
sufficiently large to serve as a support for my tent. Behind this was
built a cubica