Once a fortnight the prisoners are judged by the Amir.  Even when the ground is covered with snow they stand with bare feet, waiting for hours till the Amir appears.

Can so cruel a monarch be happy?  No.  He lives in constant fear of his life.

He is afraid of drinking water, lest it should be poisoned.  All that he drinks is brought from the river in skins, and sealed, and guarded by two officers; it is then taken to the chief counsellor, called the Vizier, and tasted by him, and his servants; it is then sealed again, and sent to his majesty.

The Amir’s dinner when it is ready, is not placed on the royal table, but locked up in a box, and taken to the Vizier to be tasted, before it is served up in the palace.

But it is not the Amir only who is afraid of poison.  No one will accept fruit from another, unless that other tastes it first.  It must be very terrible to live in the midst of such murderers as the people of Bokhara seem to be.

The Amir is so much afraid of people making plans to destroy him, that he chooses to see all the letters that are written by his subjects; if a husband write to his wife, the letter must first be shown to the Amir.  There are boys, too, going about the city listening to all that is said, that they may let the Amir know, if any one speak against him.

But while the Amir is watching his people, they are watching him; for his chief officers hire men to listen to the Amir’s conversation, that they may know if he intends to kill them.  Yet every person appears to approve all the Amir does, saying on every occasion, “It is the act of a king; it must be good.”  They are such people as Jeremiah describes in the Bible.  “Their tongue is as an arrow shot out, it speaketh deceit; one speaketh peaceably to his neighbor, but in his heart he lieth his wait.”—­(Jer. ix. 8.)

APPEARANCE.—­The people in Bokhara are much handsomer than other Tartars; their complexions are fairer, and their hair is of a lighter color.  They wear large white turbans, and several dark pelisses with high-heeled boots.  These high heels prevent their walking well, and most people, both men and women, ride; but the ladies always hide their faces with a veil of black hair cloth.

The large court of the palace is filled from morning to night with a crowd of noisy people, most of them mounted on horses and donkeys.

In the midst of the court is the fruit market.  It is wonderful to behold the quantity, and beauty of the fruits.  The same fruits grow in Bokhara as in England, only they are much finer. Such grapes, plums, and apricots, mulberries, and melons, are never seen in Europe, and they are made more refreshing by being mixed with chopped ice.  Large piles of ice stand all the summer long in the market-place, and even beggars drink iced water.  But hot tea is preferred before any other drink.  In every corner of the market there are large urns of hot tea, and small bowls of rich milk, surrounded all day by a thirsty crowd.  How much better is this sight than the gin palaces of London!