however, he is a slave or a poor man, they leave him in the desert and go on their way.
When one of their prominent men dies, they dig for him a great pit in the form of a house and they go to him, dress him in a qurtaq with his belt and bow, and put a drinking cup of wood with intoxicating drink in his hand. They take his entire possessions and put them in this house. Then they set him down in it also. Then they build another house over him and make a kind of cupola out of mud.
Then they kill his horses. They kill one or two hundred, as many as he has, at the site of the grave. Then they eat the flesh down to the head, the hooves, the hide, and the tail, for they hang these up on wooden poles and say, "These are his steeds on which he rides to Paradise."
If he has been a hero and slain enemies, they carve wooden statues in the number of those whom he has slain, place them upon his grave, and say, "These are his pages who serve him in Paradise."
Sometimes they delay killing the horses for a day or two, and then an old man from among their elderly ones stirs them up by saying, "I have seen the dead man in my sleep and he said to me: 'Here thou seest me. My comrades have overtaken me and my feet were too weak to follow them. I cannot overtake them and so have remained alone.' " In this case, the people slaughter his steeds and hang them up on his grave. After a day or two, the same elder comes to them and says, "I have seen the dead man in a dream and he said: 'Inform my family that I have recovered from my plight.' "
In this way the old man preserves the ways of the Oguz, for there might otherwise be a desire for the living to retain the horses of the dead.
At length we traveled on in the Turkish kingdom. One morning one of the Turks met us. He was ugly in figure, dirty in appearance, despicable in manner, and base in nature. He said: "Halt." The whole caravan halted in obedience to his command. Then he said, "No single one of you may proceed." We said to him, "We are friends of the Kudarkin." He began to laugh and said, "Who is the Kudarkin? I defecate on his beard."
No man among us knew what to do at these words, but then the Turk said, "Bekend"; that is, "bread" in the language of Chwarezm. I gave him a few sheets of bread. He took them and said, "You may go further. I take pity upon you."
We came to the district of the army commander whose name was Etrek ibn-al-Qatagan. He pitched Turkish tents for us and had us stay in them. He himself had a large establishment, servants and large dwellings. He drove in sheep for us that we might slaughter them, and put horses at our disposal for riding. The Turks speak of him as their best horseman, and in truth I saw one day, when he raced with us on his horse and as a goose flew over us, he strung his bow and then, guiding his horse under it, shot at the goose and brought it down.
I presented to him a suit from Merv, a pair of boots of red leather, a coat of brocade, and five coats of silk. He accepted these with glowing words of praise. He removed the brocade coat that he wore in order to don the garments of honor I had just given him. Then I saw that the qurtaq which he had underneath was fraying apart and filthy, but it is their custom that no one shall remove the garment that he wears next to his body until it disintegrates. Verily also he plucked out his entire beard and even his mustache, so that he looked like a eunuch. And yet, as I have observed, he was their best horseman.
I believed that these fine gifts should win his friendship to us, but such was not to be. He was a treacherous man.
One day he sent for the leaders close to him; that is, Tarhan, Yanal, and Glyz. Tarhan was the most influential among them; he was crippled and blind and had a maimed hand. Then he said to them: