"E.Voiskunsky, I.Lukodyanov. The Crew Of The Mekong (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Khan Shirgazy turned away. "Don't spoil the face," he murmured as he
passed the bodyguards.
The heads of the senior Russian officers were brought to Khiva and
displayed to the public.
Prince Bekovich-Cherkassky's head was not among them. Rumour had it
that Khan Shirgazy had sent the head as a gift to the Khan of Bukhara, but
cautious, far-sighted Abul-Faiz had refused to accept the horrifying gift
and had sent it back.
The five Russian detachments were destroyed one after another. Some of
the men were killed, others were sold into slavery. A few managed to escape,
some during the fighting and others later, while in captivity. Only a very
few managed to make their way back to Russia by various routes after
enduring indescribable deprivation and dangers.


CHAPTER TWO


IN WHICH FEDOR MATVEYEV FINDS HIMSELF IN INDIA


When Fedor Matveyev opened his eyes he found himself lying beside a
dusty road that ran through a tract of desert where only camel's-thorn grew.
He groaned as the memory of that frightful day came back to him. Had it been
yesterday, or the day before?
The pitiless sun, directly overhead, made his eyes ache. He felt weak
and nauseous. There was a sharp, constant pain in his right shoulder.
When Fedor awakened again the sand, soaked with his blood, was cool.
Enormous stars glittered in the black sky. His throat was dry.
Wheels creaked close by, accompanied by a monotonous, wailing song in
an unfamiliar language.
"If they capture me I'll be tortured and killed," Fedor thought. "I
must creep farther away from the road."
With an abrupt movement he turned over on his stomach, gave a sharp cry
of pain, and fainted once more.
During the night he recovered consciousness several times. Each time he
saw the same bright stars overhead and heard the creaking of wheels and the
plaintive song. Added to these sensations was the feeling of being jolted
and the acrid odour of sheep's wool and horse sweat.
Fedor had been found lying unconscious near the road by an Uzbek
peasant named Sadreddin, who put him in his bullock cart and took him home.
There he and his family nursed Fedor solicitously, using ancient remedies to
treat his deep wound. Fedor's collarbone was broken- but young bones mend
quickly. The wound was encouraged to fester and was not allowed to heal so
that the pus could carry away the small fragments of broken bone.
After the fever subsided Fedor began to recover. He was given
nourishing food and could feel himself growing stronger day by day.
What would happen next? Fedor could not but be worried. The peasant who
had taken him in was a kind man but he could not help wondering how he could
turn the presence of this infidel to advantage. The young Russian could help