Chapter 10

At a quarter-past twelve our train passed the station of Kari Bata,
which resembles one of the stations on the line from Naples to
Sorrento, with its Italian roofs. I noticed a vast Asiatico-Russian
camp, the flags waving in the fresh breeze. We have entered the Mervian
oasis, eighty miles long and eight wide, and containing about six
hundred thousand hectares--there is nothing like being precise at the
finish. Right and left are cultivated fields, clumps of fine trees, an
uninterrupted succession of villages, huts among the thickets, fruit
gardens between the houses, flocks of sheep and herds of cattle among
the pastures. All this rich country is watered by the Mourgab--the
White Water--or its tributaries, and pheasants swarm like crows on the
plains of Normandy. At one o'clock in the afternoon the train stopped
at Merv Station, over five hundred miles from Uzun Ada.

The town has been often destroyed and rebuilt. The wars of Turkestan
have not spared it. Formerly, it seems, it was a haunt of robbers and
bandits, and it is a pity that the renowned Ki-Tsang did not live in
those days. Perhaps he would have become a Genghis Khan?

Major Noltitz told me of a Turkoman saying to the following effect: "If
you meet a Mervian and a viper, begin by killing the Mervian and leave
the viper till afterwards."

I fancy it would be better to begin with killing the viper now that the
Mervian has become a Russian.

We have seven hours to stop at Merv. I shall have time to visit this
curious town. Its physical and moral transformation has been profound,
owing to the somewhat arbitrary proceedings of the Russian
administration. It is fortunate that its fortress, five miles round,
built by Nour Verdy in 1873, was not strong enough to prevent its
capture by the czar, so that the old nest of malefactors has become one
of the most important cities of the Transcaspian.

I said to Major Noltitz:

"If it is not trespassing on your kindness, may I ask you to go with
me?"

"Willingly," he answered; "and as far as I am concerned, I shall be
very pleased to see Merv again."

We set out at a good pace.

"I ought to tell you," said the major, "that it is the new town we are
going to see."

"And why not the old one first? That would be more logical and more
chronological."

"Because old Merv is eighteen miles away, and you will hardly see it as
you pass. So you must refer to the accurate description given of it by
your great geographer Elisée Reclus."

And certainly readers will not lose anything by the change.

The distance from the station to new Merv is not great. But what an