Chapter 15

Kokhan, two hours to stop. It is night. The majority of the travelers
have already taken up their sleeping quarters in the car, and do not
care to alight.

Here am I on the platform, walking the deck as I smoke. This is rather
an important station, and from the engine house comes a more powerful
locomotive than those which have brought the train along since we left
Uzun Ada. These early engines were all very well as long as the line
lay over an almost horizontal plain. But now we are among the gorges of
the Pamir plateau, there are gradients of such steepness as to require
more engine power.

I watch the proceedings, and when the locomotive has been detached with
its tender, the baggage van--with Kinko in--is at the head of the train.

The idea occurs to me that the young Roumanian may perhaps venture out
on the platform. It would be an imprudence for he runs the risk of
being seen by the police, the "gardovois," who move about taking a good
look at the passengers. What my No. 11 had better do is to remain in
his box, or at least in his van. I will go and get a few provisions,
liquid and solid, and take them to him, even before the departure of
the train, if it is possible to do so without fear of being noticed.

The refreshment room at the station is open, and Popof is not there. If
he was to see me making purchases he would be astonished, as the dining
car contains everything we might want.

At the bar I get a little cold meat, some bread, and a bottle of vodka.

The station is not well lighted. A few lamps give only a feeble light.
Popof is busy with one of the railway men. The new engine has not yet
been attached to the train. The moment seems favorable. It is useless
to wait until we have left. If I can reach Kinko I shall be able to
sleep through the night--and that will be welcome, I admit.

I step onto the train, and after assuring myself that no one is
watching me, I enter the baggage van, saying as I do so:

"It is I."

In fact it is as well to warn Kinko in case he is out of his box.

But he had not thought of getting out, and I advise him to be very
careful.

He is very pleased at the provisions, for they are a change to his
usual diet.

"I do not know how to thank you, Monsieur Bombarnac," he says to me.

"If you do not know, friend Kinko," I reply, "do not do it; that is
very simple."

"How long do we stop at ?"

"Two hours."

"And when shall we be at the frontier?"

"To-morrow, about one in the afternoon."

"And at Kachgar?"

"Fifteen hours afterward, in the night of the nineteenth."