Journal of the Society of Arts : Volume XLVIII, No. 2480 [‎683v] (16/24)

564
JOURNAL OF THE SOCIETY OF ARTS.
[June 1, 1900.
these deserts with a million men. Modern
armies, with their elaborate organisation—
especially intricate commissariat and ambu
lance—can never accomplish what has been
done in the past on many occasions by hordes
of nomad horsemen ; subsisting like the hardy
animals that carried them on what they could
pick up on the almost barren steppe—roots,
dried meat, or a bird shot and hastily cooked.
One of the most characteristic features of
life in all parts of Central Asia is the custom
of present giving, which has attained propor
tions undreamt of in Western lands, though
even there it is still an important factor in
social life. Presents in Central Asia are by
no means voluntary or spontaneous, being
given and received as a matter of course,
and it is not customary to return thanks
for gifts until one is congratulated on re
ceiving them, when thanks must be re
turned — not for the gift, but for the con
gratulations. They would become a serious
tax were it not that whoever receives a present
must promptly give one in return. Among the
Kirghiz (who carry the custom to great
lengths, despite the fact that their only wealth
consists practically of the tent they live in and
their flocks), etiquette demands, for instance,
that at a funeral feast every mourner that
attends must receive a present; but then he
must always bring one with him, and the two
must be of equal value, so that the proprieties
are satisfied, and no one is either loser or
gainer in this game of forfeits. Amusing
stories are told of gifts sent to each other by
the rulers of the various Khanates, in pre-
Russian days, which eventually found their
way back to the original sender. This system
in Central Asia is a great nuisance to a
stranger, who, wishing to join at all in social
life, is confronted at the outset by what seems
an overwhelming tax on his resources and in
genuity. A native who offers the smallest
civility or present—a bunch of grapes or
flowers—will remark, as he does so, “ Sillau
keryak ”—a present is necessary.
All over Central Asia we find traces of a
civilisation so old that it has been entirely for
gotten, and nothing remains to tell us what
were the races who dwelt there, or how they
fell from their high estate. On the north bank
of the Syr Daria, all along the valley, are
numerous ruins which mark the site of former
cities ; and legend says that this district, now
a wilderness with an occasional Russian fort
or small half-savage town, was once so densely
populated that from Kashgar to the Sea
of Aral “ the nightingale could fly from
branch to branch, and the cat walk from
house-top to house-top.” No investiga
tions have as yet given a clue as to the
identity of the once busy dwellers in this
fertile valley, nor why their towns fell into
decay. The country is quite capable of sup
porting a population; in summer, plants and
flowers of many varieties bloom on the steppes,
and the brush which grows on the river banks
forms a cover for quantities of pheasants, geese,
partridges, and other game.
Nearly all the tribes who, until the Russian
era, possessed the soil in Central Asia, date
themselves back to Genghiz Khan; but an
account of his conquests, given by a Chinese
statesman who accompanied that warrior during
his progress West, in the early years of the
13 th century, gives a description of many
towns which existed then and are still standing,
such as Hodjent, Samarkand, and Bokhara.
It is almost certain that Central Asia was never
under a homogeneous rule. Genghiz Khan,
sweeping from east to west, gathered up all
the little tribes, and destroyed many ancient
kingdoms; but he immediately divided his
immense territories between his sons, and they,
when their turn came, did likewise, so that the
family of Genghiz became a sort of hereditary
aristocracy over the whole of Central Asia.
Thus, among Kirghiz, Kara-Kirghiz, Kalmuks,
Uzbeks, and all tribes which have any of the
Mongol element, the “white bones ” still love
to boast of their descent from the conqueror.
When one considers the numbers of races
which have met, amalgamated, or in many
cases simply settled down side by side in
Central Asia, one cannot be surprised at a
certain amount of confusion in their method of
reckoning time. Simplest of all, the Kirghiz,
having no era from which to date their years,
use a twelve-year cycle, and give to each
cycle the name of an animal, the names
being arranged in a certain sequence. The
day of the year is not regarded at all, every
one born in the same year being considered
as of the same age. The Kirghiz day is
divided into four parts—sunrise, eating-time,
midday, and sunset. Seven days make a
week, or atna, while the year is divided into
twelve solar months, bearing names corre
sponding to the signs of the zodiac in Arabic.
This calendar is far more complete and
sensible than that now being introduced
by Russia — the Julian, which is already
more than twelve days out of its reckoning.
Besides these zodiacal name?, the Kirghiz,