saw the Russian peasants on their borders laboriously ploughing and reaping, they looked on them with compassion, and never thought of following their example.  But an impersonal legislator came to them—­a very severe and tyrannical legislator, who would not brook disobedience—­I mean Economic Necessity.  By the encroachments of the Ural Cossacks on the east, and by the ever-advancing wave of Russian colonisation from the north and west, their territory had been greatly diminished.  With diminution of the pasturage came diminution of the live stock, their sole means of subsistence.  In spite of their passively conservative spirit they had to look about for some new means of obtaining food and clothing—­some new mode of life requiring less extensive territorial possessions.  It was only then that they began to think of imitating their neighbours.  They saw that the neighbouring Russian peasant lived comfortably on thirty or forty acres of land, whilst they possessed a hundred and fifty acres per male, and were in danger of starvation.

The conclusion to be drawn from this was self-evident—­they ought at once to begin ploughing and sowing.  But there was a very serious obstacle to the putting of this principle in practice.  Agriculture certainly requires less land than sheep-farming, but it requires very much more labour, and to hard work the Bashkirs were not accustomed.  They could bear hardships and fatigues in the shape of long journeys on horseback, but the severe, monotonous labour of the plough and the sickle was not to their taste.  At first, therefore, they adopted a compromise.  They had a portion of their land tilled by Russian peasants, and ceded to these a part of the produce in return for the labour expended; in other words, they assumed the position of landed proprietors, and farmed part of their land on the metayage system.

The process of transition had reached this point in several aouls which I visited.  My friend Mehemet Zian showed me at some distance from the tents his plot of arable land, and introduced me to the peasant who tilled it—­a Little-Russian, who assured me that the arrangement satisfied all parties.  The process of transition cannot, however, stop here.  The compromise is merely a temporary expedient.  Virgin soil gives very abundant harvests, sufficient to support both the labourer and the indolent proprietor, but after a few years the soil becomes exhausted and gives only a very moderate revenue.  A proprietor, therefore, must sooner or later dispense with the labourers who take half of the produce as their recompense, and must himself put his hand to the plough.

Thus we see the Bashkirs are, properly speaking, no longer a purely pastoral, nomadic people.  The discovery of this fact caused me some little disappointment, and in the hope of finding a tribe in a more primitive condition I visited the Kirghiz of the Inner Horde, who occupy the country to the southward, in the direction of the Caspian.  Here for the first time I saw the genuine Steppe in the full sense of the term—­a country level as the sea, with not a hillock or even a gentle undulation to break the straight line of the horizon, and not a patch of cultivation, a tree, a bush, or even a stone, to diversify the monotonous expanse.