tles with girdles and embroidered caps, and with their
daggers and knives, fire steel, pipe and tobacco box rattling at their
sides, they presented a stately and festal appearance. Among them might
be noticed the chief of the Kirghizes who lived on the eastern side of
Mus-tagh-ata. His long mantle was dark blue, his girdle light blue; on
his head he had a violet cap with a gold border, and at his side dangled
a scimitar in a black scabbard. The chief himself was tall, with a thin
black beard, scanty moustaches, small oblique eyes and high cheek bones,
like most Kirghizes.

The plain in front of us was black with horsemen and horses; there was
bustle, neighing, and stamping on all sides. Here the high chief, Khoat
Bek, a hundred and eleven years old, sits firmly and surely in his
saddle, though bent by the weight of years. His large aquiline nose
points down to his short white beard, and on his head he wears a brown
turban. He is surrounded by five sons, also grey-bearded old men,
mounted on tall horses.

Now the performance began. The spectators rode to one side, leaving an
open space in front of us. A horseman dashed forward with a goat in his
arms, dismounted, and let the poor animal loose near to us. Another
Kirghiz seized the goat by the horn with his left hand, cut off its head
with a single blow of his sharp knife, allowed the blood to flow, and
then took the goat by the hind legs and rode at full speed round the
plain. A troop of riders appeared in the distance and drew near at a
furious pace. The hoofs of eighty horses beat the ground and the
deafening noise was mingled with wild cries and the rattle of stirrup
irons. They rushed swiftly past us in a cloud of dust, making a current
of air like a storm of wind. The first rider threw the dead goat, which
was still warm, in front of me, and then they whirled off like thunder
over the plain.

"Ride back a little, sir," called out some chiefs, "there will be wild
work now." We had hardly time to draw back far enough before the excited
troop came rushing along, with their horses in a lather, like an
avalanche from the mountains. Round the goat there was an inextricable
confusion of men and horses, only partially visible in the dust. They
were struggling for the goat, and the one who gets it is the winner.
They crush together and tear and push; horses shy, rear, or fall down,
while other horses leap over them. Holding on to their saddles the
horsemen bend down towar