国立情報学研究所 - ディジタル・シルクロード・プロジェクト
『東洋文庫所蔵』貴重書デジタルアーカイブ
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| 0649 |
Ruins of Desert Cathay : vol.2 |
| 中国砂漠地帯の遺跡 : vol.2 |
引用情報
OCR読み取り結果
Domoko and Gulakhma, to note ocular proofs of expand-
ing cultivation and increasing prosperity. Since my visit
of 1906 a large Bazar had sprung up at Domoko, entirely
through local enterprise, and the belt of scrubby desert
with tamarisk cones separating the two village tracts was
being rapidly reduced by newly levelled fields ready for
irrigation. And yet there were complaints of the summer
floods having been generally below the mark during the
last ten years. I have little doubt that increased pressure
of population and other economic factors play an important
part in these changes affecting what otherwise would be
ideal ground for watching 'pulsatory desiccation' at work.
The remainder of March was spent in supplementary
archaeological labours at a number of old sites, like Kara-
yantak (Fig. 295), Ulugh-Mazar, and others along the
desert which fringes the interesting area shown in the
inset map of 'Oases of Chira, Gulakhma, Domoko,' and
thence westwards to Khotan. The photograph reproduced
in Fig. 296 shows my helpmates and myself, as united
at the end of this winter campaign in the desert. My
short halt at Khotan during the first days of April was
made most pleasant by the welcome my old friends gave
me, and by the satisfaction I felt at seeing all my antiques
sent from Kuchar now safely stored in Akhun Beg's
house.
But, perhaps, the greatest pleasure of all was that my dear
old host was there to receive me in person (Fig. 52), safely
home from that distant pilgrimage to Mecca for which he
had so pluckily started a year and a half before. The
portly old gentleman looked more cheerful than ever after
all he had gone through during long days by rail across
Russia and on the tossing seas. What a much-travelled
man Akhun Beg had become in this short span of time,
with his quaintly told experiences ranging from Samarkand
to Stambul and Mecca the Holy, and from the Red Sea to
Bombay, Kashmir, and the Kara-koram passes! And yet, as
I camped in his garden, flushed with the short-lived glory
of Turkestan spring-time, I could appreciate how proud
and glad he was to be back again at his bright home in
this thriving oasis. The plum and apricot trees, just in
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645
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793
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803
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813
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