Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - VI.—At Racing Speed Down the Great and Lonely Tarim
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DOWN THE LONELY TARIM. 67
time. The men tried to stop the ferry-boat, but the punting
poles were not long enough to reach the bottom of the
river. Yet we were close upon the obstacle. A few
seconds more, and we should infallibly have been capsized
had it not been for Kasim. He, flinging off his clothes,
scrambled ashore with a line, and by desperate efforts
managed to check the ferry-boat in time. Then we swung
safely past the treacherous obstacle, and thereafter con-
tinued our dizzy race of nearly four miles an hour. That
evening when we encamped we fell in with shepherds, and
bought some sheep from them. Close by was the masar,
or " grave," of a saint. Him my Mussulmans hastened to
thank sincerely for having protected them through the
perilous passage from which we had just escaped, as well
as for having brought them safe and sound all the long
way from their homes.
Where in the world did all those countless flocks of wild-
geese come from which day after day flew unceasingly
westwards ? Even at night we heard their hoarse quack-
ings as they passed on, on over the tops of the poplars.
Did they come from Siberia, or was it Jungaria or Kulja ?
I never grew tired of watching those arrow-headed, dragon-
shaped arrangements of little black dots speeding through
the sky. There was always one bird acting as leader. On,
on he flew, without a moment’s hesitation, the two wings
of the phalanx following him with marvellous fidelity,
obeying every movement of their leader with the ready ease
of streamers fluttering in the wind. How wonderful is the
life of these birds ordered ! Twice in every year they cross
Asia all the way from Siberia to India and back again.
And here was I taking 39 years to traverse the continent
four times only ; but, then, when I made my first journey
I was already 27 years old, and therefore older than most
wild-geese.
In one place, where the river described an almost com-
S*
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