I rest myself by riding his horse.
Both the sowars bravely try their best to relieve me, but they cut
ridiculous figures, toppling over every little while. At length one of
them upsets the bicycle into a little gully, and falling on it, snaps
asunder two spokes. The khan gives him a good tongue-lashing for his
carelessness; but one can hardly blame the fellow, and I take it under my
own protection again, before it goes farther and fares worse.

About 2 p.m. the sowar sent forward meets us with water; but it is almost
undrinkable. Far better luck awaits us, however, farther along. Sighting
an Eimuck camel-rider in the distance, one of the sowars gives chase and
halts him until we can come up. Slung across his camel he has a skin of
doke, the most welcome thing one can wish for under the circumstances.
Everybody helps himself liberally of the refreshing beverage, shrinking
the Eimuck's supply very perceptibly. The Eimuck joins heartily with our
party in laughing at the altered contour of the pliant skin, as pointed
out jocularly by Mohammed Ahzim Khan, bids us "salaam aleykum," and
pursues his way across country.

During the afternoon we cross several well-worn trails; though evidently
but little used of late, they have seen much travel. My escort explains
that they are daman trails, in other words the trails worn by Turkoman
raiders passing back and forth on their man-stealing expeditions, before
their subjugation by the Russians.

By and by we emerge from a belt of low hills, and descend into a broad,
level plain. A few miles off to the right can be seen the Heri Rood, its
sinuous course plainly outlined by a dark fringe of jungle. Some miles
ahead the village-fortress of Kafir Kaleh is visible. A horseman comes
galloping across the plain to intercept us. Mohammed Ahzim Khan produces
his written orders concerning my delivery at Karize and reads it to the
new arrival. Thereupon ensues a long explanation, which ends in, our
turning about and following the new-comer across the trailless plain
toward the Heri Rood.

"What's up now?" I wonder; but the only intelligible reply I get in reply
to queries is that we are going to camp in the jungle. Misgivings as to
possible foul play mingle with speculations regarding this person's
mission, as I follow in the wake of the Afghans.

We camp on a plot of rising ground that elevates us above the overflow,
and shortly after our arrival we are visited by a band of nomads who are