Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-07-20
In the Emir Of Bokhara's Land.

"a New York Herald correspondent
..ells how he was received by the Emir Of
Bokhara, Asia, in the capital of the same
name. The writer says: I might write,
till Tomorrow were / to repeat half the
stories heard Of the man in whose pres
ence / stood bnt the reader has now
made his acquaintance. He is forty
years old, and looks sixty. His eyes daz-
zle yours with their brilliancy He
strikes you as one with whom it would
scarcely do to joke withal. He offered
me his hand, made me sit, made my Rus
sian Interpreter sit, too; but left the ORR
entail interpreter to stand. The latter
was my cook. There were only three
seats in The place. Then the conversa-
ton began. The Emir asked about nv
health and details Of the voyage. That
was all he condescended to say. ] told
him was Journeying to Cabul, and pray
ed him to grant me all facilities. He
nodded and dismissed me, bidding me
inspect his garden. AS I rose to 90 nv
opera hat sprung up, like a jack in box.
The Emir was stupefed. MY interpreters
hat followed suit. Bigger and bigger
grew the Emir's eyes. However, we
backed out, not without stumbling. We
mounted our horses and started for the
garden, half a mile from the palace. The
prime minister offered us the eternal
pilau, giving us the cue to eat it with our
fingers, and regarding lis with a fascinat.
smile. Our dishes were as useful as ever.
oop no &e old
and ten dressing gowns. Thence home.
Everybody wanted to know what the
Emir had given me. I discovered that
the Emir himself sends certain honest
merchants to buy everything back as
chcaply as possible. was only too glad
to get rid Of my load. I had more than
twenty dressing gowns.
At night the Emir sent us his acrobats
Into their gambols will initiate the
reader. The company consists Of three
musicians and two nondescripts, who
dance and sing with beating OF tambour-
ines. The hall is covered with carpets
and lighted by candles, with real Wen
nese sofa in the corner, destined for me.
The three musicians kneel-one behind
the other raise their tambourines
above their heads hiding their faces.
From their Threats issue sounds which
resemble no conceivable kind of music.
Rises dancer. These dancers. by the
way, are lads of years varying from ten to
sixteen. The center of their he,lds is
shaver. On either side hangs alove-lock,
covering their neck. They make a gest-
ure which they fancy is graceful another
which consists i'll an examination of their
finger nails. They are called Batchas.
Russian authorities tried to suppress them,
but Eastern habits were too strong, when
the B0tchd natures, when his childish
awkwardness, called gracefulness is gone,
when his attractions have faded, the
BGtc1tG turns clown. The clown follows
the BatchD with absurd grimaces, which
are marks of grotesque admiration, and
tries with torch to set fire to his girdle
if he succeeds, the audience shouts its
applause; if he fails, the clown quivers
from head to foot and is very much dis
comited. When the batcho rises to
dance he stands before the tambour1nists,
turning his back to them and facing the
principal parsonage Of the audience.
This, hardly need say, is myself, for the
rest are crouching round the wall. The
botchG raises his arm, forearm vertical,
hands in the air. His hands he twists
continually, now showing, now hiding
the palms: then lets his sleeves drop and
bares the arms. His feet are naked, and
be wears the wide trousers of Oriental
womanhood, drawn tight at the waist.
His neck swells with the vigor Of his
shouting-I decline to call it singing.
The tambourines continue their din, the
dancer whiris frantically on his toe, and
then suddenly the noise stops and all is
calm. This lasts for an hour and half.
The cries and the hubbub, added to the
fumes of stove burning in: the center,
make you simply lose your senses, and,
when the batch0 has dressed himself like
q woman and has ogIed you, you rush
from this babel Of flies and tambourines,
and would scarcely believe next day that
such a scene we're possible if a violent
headache did not help to convince you.
My servants had it all over again in the
morning, and the Emir was told that I
had enjoyed myself prodigiously.
My next proceeding was to ramble
through the town on horseback. The
bazaar is virtually the whole city. The
rest is coil of narrow and crooked streets,
with mud walls and little doors pierced
in them, here and there. There are
reservoirs of water, too, but water in Box
hara, and the streets are only sprinkled
once a week. The activity of the bazaar
gives evidence of lively trade. Jewel
ers are seated on carpets, each in his lit
tie niche, for the shops are inches two
yards wide, one yard and halfin depth.
They show me rings, turquoises, emer-
aids, rubies in framework of silver. Fur
clad merchants offer you skin of lambs
taken from them when born. Then there
are carpets manufactured by the turco-
mans, those nomad highwaymen, whom
found Colonel Avinof, sweeping from
the road to Khiva with a single battalion,
and of whom the Emir's $4,000 soldiers
were powerless to rid the country.
Some years ago, whenever a stranger
visited Bokhara, tue Emir would send
him to the bazaar and invite him to
choose a costly object. If the stranger
offered to pay the Emir's officers objected
and said that his master would settle
with the merchant, The Emir used to
cut off the merchants head. So as soon
as stranger came near the bazaar, the
dealers would scuttle away and the shops
be closed. They now have changed all
that. A foreigner draws the crowd in.
stead of repelllng it. Moreover the Emi1
lent us an expert, who set the true prices
on everything we examined. The dealers
seem to be perfectly content with this
arrangement. So we left the bazaar and
repaired to the fortress, where we were
received by a functionary whose sole
function is to fire a cannon at noon. He
offered us plan and little music. Hav
ing discussed both I make preparations