CHAPTER XXII.

THE FUTURE OF THE OXUS.

CENTRAL Asia, barren as we are accustomed to think it, is remarkably well watered in certain regions; and it is these districts, and these alone, which constitute the real strength of Russia in the East. The first explorers can hardly have viewed the turbid, shoal-impeded, progressively diminishing streams along which they journeyed, in the light of future commercial highways or strategic communications; but they saw clearly enough, what all their successors have likewise seen, that in Central Asia water is not merely a necessary of life, but life itself. All that lives between the Ural and the Thian-Shan, whether man, beast, or vegetable, is concentrated upon the basins of the great rivers. The other tracts the Kara-Koum, the Kizil-Koum, the AkKoum, the Moioun-Koum, the Desert of Khiva, the Turkoman Steppes-form part of Central Asia merely as the rind forms part of the apple; and to attempt any colonisation of them would be simple insanity.

Hence the whole history of Russian conquest in the East is the history of a fight for the possession of certain watercourses-the conquering party securing them by an ever-lengthening chain of fortified posts, and

gradually pushing back the conquered farther and farther into the desert, till no alternative remained but starvation or submission. "Flocks and herds must drink," said a Russian General to me years ago, who had himself practised what he preached with terrible effect. "Flocks and herds must drink, and so must men; cut them off from the water, and you have them."

And this method is still looked to by Russia as a sure weapon for the work that remains to be done. More than once, during my journey from Tashkent towards the Bokhariote frontier, I remarked to the officers whom I met on the way, "You will have easy work with Bokhara when you do invade it," and the answer was always the same; "We shall never need to invade it; we have only to cut off the water (which runs from us to them) and they must give in without firing a shot."

But when we come to consider the rivers of Central Asia not merely as feeders of life and vegetation, but as future highways of traffic, the question assumes a widely different aspect. On the map, indeed, they make a goodly show; the Zer-Affshan, upon which stand Samarcand and Bokhara; the Tchoo and Sari-Soo, dividing Siberia from Turkestan; the Ili and its six brethren, which, draining the wild and almost unknown region between Lake Balkhash and the Thian-Shan Mountains, give to that district its name of Semiretchensk or Seven Rivers; the Syr-Daria with its countless tributaries, traversing the whole breadth of

Turkestan from the south-east to the north-west; and, lastly, the magnificent Oxus, now made a Russian stream by the successful issue of the Khiva Expedition.

But from this imposing list very large deductions must be made. The Zer-Affshan is utterly unnavigable. The Tchoo and Sari-Soo traverse, with a sorely diminished volume, a thinly-peopled and comparatively unprofitable region. The Ili, apart from its formidable rapids, is wholly out of the present track of Asiatic commerce.* Even the Syr-Daria, in which many intelligent Russians have seen the river of the future, cannot justly lay claim to that title.

At the first glance, indeed, it has undoubtedly several points in its favour. It is far richer in wood-fuel, and infinitely more accessible from European Russia, than its great southern counterpart. The obstacles interposed by its rapid current, and pernicious tendency to waste itself inminor channels, might be overcome by time and labour; but it has one fatal drawback, which would alone suffice to ensure its "plucking" by a conscientious board of engineer examiners. Throughout its whole course from Fort Perovski to Fort No. 2, the great river degenerates into a noisome swamp (emphatically called the DjamanDaria or Bad River) whose main channel, so far as it can be said to have one, is barely one foot deep, except in the flood time of June and July, when it rises to three feet. Thus, for ten months out of the twelve, the

* The contemplated revival of the old caravan route through the Chinese frontier town of Tchugutchak appears to be purely theoretical.

Upper and Lower Syr-Daria are separated by a break of more than a hundred miles, converting them into distinct and unconnected streams, and completely isolating the steamers upon them.

There remains then, the Oxus; and in its favour there is much more to be said. In the first place, it connects two very important territories-Bokhara, the acknowledged centre of commercial activity, and Khiva, the acknowledged centre of the nomadic population. Moreover, the swiftness of the current, though considerable, is not such as to be of serious moment; and the ease of the downward navigation is sufficiently proved by the fact that a Russian officer of my acquaintance, starting from Samarcand last July to join the army, reached Khiva on the tenth day-striking the Oxus a little below Tchardjuy, and descending it by boat.

The Oxus, again, is wholly free from that constant branching-out which fritters away the strength of its great rival. From its highest navigable point at the junction of the Ak-Sarai (near Koondooz) down to the very apex of the Delta, the broad, smooth, greyish-red stream is wholly undivided; while its numerous ferries (three in the Khanate of Khiva, and six more higher up the stream) show that, although lying between two of the most desolate regions in the world, it is not beyond the range of caravans. Finally, the mouths of the river (though only one is navigable at present) are not so thoroughly blocked but that a little well-applied labour, following upon the removal of the dams by which the Khivans have tried to obstruct them, will

completely open up the Delta, and give the Russians a substantial terminus a quo for new enterprises.

Granting, then, that Russia has now made herself virtual mistress of the Oxus, how is she to utilise it?

For the present (as will be seen in the next chapter but one), the trade of Turkestan is in a very unpromising condition; but the country itself possesses boundless resources, needing only proper development to make the province one of the most valuable dependencies in the world. The prologue to any such development, must, of course, be the providing of the rich local products with efficient means of transport. Two substitutes are offered by the future for the slow and precarious caravan-transport of the present day-the railway projected by M. de Lesseps from Orenburg to Samarcand, and the establishment of steam navigation on the Oxus-enterprises which, if fully carried out, will in the end play into each other's hands most effectively.

The first step in the latter undertaking is naturally the making a complete survey of the river up to its highest navigable point; and this it is intended. to do by means of the expedition to which I have already alluded in Chapter XV., as designed to be sent up the Oxus in the spring of 1874. This once achieved the course of the river learned by heart, and the difficulties of the navigation thoroughly examined, it remains only to demand from Bokhara (which is in no position to refuse), the grant of a convenient spot on the higher stream for the establishment of a trading port, and steamer terminus Such