Merv: a story of adventures and captivity, epitomised from 'The Merv Oasis,' etc

Front matter

ME EV M E E V A STORY OF ADVENTURES AND CAPTIVITY EPITOMISED FROM 'THE MERV OASIS' BY EDMOND O'DONOVAN SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT OF 'THE DAILY NEWS' WITH A PORTRAIT LONDON SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE 1883 [All rights reserved]

ADVERTISEMENT.

. The account of Mr. O'Donovan's Travels East of the Caspian, with his five months' residence among the Tekkes of Merv, having been published in two large volumes, which of necessity places it beyond the reach of many readers, it has been thought desirable to give an epitome of the work, which, leaving out political matters, presents the marvellous story of his adventures and captivity in a concise and popular form. PAGE 1 CONTENTS.

Chapter I

Across the Steppe — Delays in landing — The Troika — The Steppes — Russian stations — A sporting country — Thievish Tartars — The Grand Hotel — General Lazareff — A dreary ride — Reaching Baku . CHAPTER H. A petroleum city — Petroleum — Fire worship — A strange rite — The Turcomans — Chatte — Flies and mosquitoes — A reconnaissance — In gorgeous array — Caucasian horsemen — The handjar . . .12

Chapter III

Searching for sulphur mines — A desert post — Bitter waters — The Black Gulf — Sulphur Mountain — Turcoman steeds — A night alarm — The attack — A race for life — Worn out 22

Chapter IV

Waiting to advance — Water snakes — Quaint humanity — Caucasian cavalry — Uniforms — Ideas and fashion — Punishment of the knout — An angler's paradise 32

Chapter V

Sickness — The death of an old friend — Funeral at sea — General Tergukasoff — Notice to quit — A start for Persia — A slimy waste — A homo for reptiles — Robber Turcomans — The faithful dog — A Jack-of-all-trades— Night alarms — An unpleasant welcome — Asterabad CONTENTS.

Chapter VI. Page

A Persian town — Wild boars — Sanitary features — The bazaar — Manufactures — Felt-making — A finished carpet — Persian costume — A story-teller — Persian pottery — A lost art . 52

Chapter VII

Rumours of activity — A fresh venture — Another dismissal — A snowstorm — Severe losses — Fresh plans — General Skobeleff 03

Chapter VIII

Persian boatmen — A Persian river — Sturgeon and silkworms — The ice torture — Venomous serpents — A ghastly burden — The 'Bite the Stranger ' — Effects of a bite — The kanots — The Shah's capital — His Majesty's servants — Court splendour — Flower-scatterers 70

Chapter IX

Important telegrams — Visit to a magnate — The Towers of Silence — Fortifications — Dwellers in the tombs — A false alarm — Beauty of villages — Bitten — A human churn ...... 83 CHAPTEE X. Female pilgrims — Dervishes — A strange escort — Joining the hadjis — A night march — A council of hadjis — A skirmish — A threatened massacre — Results of the fight — An awkward position — A weird procession — A dangerous ravine — A fresh halt . . . .92

Chapter XI

The caravanserai — Flies and scorpions — A Persian residence — Offer of an escort — An act of lunacy — Insect pests — Fond of the sword — An awkward look-out — The Emir's palace — An Eastern dinnertable — The Emir of Kuchan — A banquet — The following of a feast — Critical illness — After the fever — Abundance of fruit — Beauty of Meshed — Bazaar inmates — Persian officials — Ancient coins — My bedroom — Meshed water CONTENTS. IX

Chapter XII. Page

Persian obstruction — Opening communications — Turcoman heads — Persian ruins — Tarantulas and snakes — A strange drink — Kurdish castles — Beauty of mountains — A border chieftain — The Khan's kiosk — A Turcoman raid — Held to ransom — Brigandage . .128

Chapter XIII

A Persian passion play — The theatre — The drama — An apology for grief — A stage combat — A stirring scene— Sanguinary performance — A religious dance — Convenient pigtails — Doing penance — Displays of grief — The drama murdered, . . . . . .141

Chapter XIV

Fresh obstacles — Taken in ambush — Fall of Geok Tepe — The Russian advance — The Tejend swamp — Objects on the march — Skobeleff's contribution — Invited to Merv — The Russian agent . . .153

Chapter XV

Onward to Merv — Atmospheric deceptions — The Merv Tekkes — Taken for a spy — Insect torments — A meeting in the desert — Turcoman wigwams — A prisoner — The Tejend river — Boars and lynxes — A wet night 162

Chapter XVI

The 'Queen of the World' — My personal appearance — Reception by the Mervli — An awkward position — A sanguinary threat — First impressions of Merv — My residence — Under inspection — An eager audience — The Merv chiefs — Showy costumes — A Merv Israelite — The lehthyar — Petty persecutions — A mischief-making servant — A formidable examiner — Result of the council — Held a prisoner . 173

Chapter XVII

My new home — A hut interior — The Turcoman costume — Merv fortifications — Captured cannon — Quaint ideas on artillery — The great earthwork — A weak defence — A tour of inspection — A naive proposal — My purpose at Merv — My servant's departure . . .191 CONTENTS. X PAGE 203 21S

Chapter XVIII

The waterworks— Holding the stirrup — The guest-chamber — How to show gratitude — Delights of a siesta — A generous host — The Benti dam — The sluice — An awkward crossing — A dainty dish — Porsa Kala — Snakes in the desert — Hunting a runaway — Glimpse of the old cities — Homeward bound .......

Chapter XIX

Makdum Kuli Khan — Promised gifts — A doubtful ruler — Another present — Small jealousies — Signs of the times — A Russian prisoner

Chapter XX

A fresh council — Political questions — I become a Khan — An expedition — A visit to Baba Khan — Merv vegetables — Peculiarities of teeth — The ride to the ruins — An ancient city — Traces of the past — Crumbling palaces — Old tombs — Giaour Kala — Rampart and citadel — A caravanserai — Brazen vessels — Manners of prayer — Religious customs — Traditions of Alexander — Treasure-seekers — Tomb of Sultan Sanjar — Melon-growing — Strange offerings — The voiceless wilderness 225

Chapter XXI

Mad racing — Imitation raiders — Ready for combat — Heat of the desert — Hospitable customs — A Turcoman belle — Danger of whistling — An antique lamp — Troubles of the night — A cure for wounds — Value of stones — Snake-killing 249

Chapter XXII

The revolution — Coming of the Khans — A singular spectacle — Overthrow of Kadjar — The triumvirate — A theatrical spectacle — Dress — Differences of clan — Making presents — Festivities — My surprise — Playing the host CONTENTS. XI

Chapter XXIII. Page

A dilemma— Branding horses — A Georgian prisoner — Other captives —Prisoners in chains — The black present — A camel's bite — Dread of poison — Turcoman pipers — A morning scene — My pets — An oil mill — Offers of hospitality — The Khan's vineyards — Tea-drinking — Tea etiquette — The Guinea worm — The Russian prisoner — Torture of Kidaieff — Offers of ransom — A cure for fever . . . 272

Chapter XXIV

Bazaar day — An accident — The market-place — Food supplies — Punishments — Turcoman steeds — The town crier — Sheep-tail fat — Abundance of game — Breakfast difficulties — Starving out enemies — My sumsa stealer — Beg Murad's present — Turcoman life — Customs —Cleverness of women — Carpets ...... 292

Chapter XXV

Religious proposals — Generous offers — A request to Teheran — Russia leather — Raiding — The Old Man of the Sword — Mourning customs — Effects of a storm — Shampooing 309

Chapter XXVI

Diseases — Thirst for remedies — An unsatisfied patient — Plans for the future — A fast for liberty — The Khan's proposal — A change of front — Squeezing a Jew — Unwelcome visitors — Traits ofthe people — The Moullah's watch — Ink v. blacking — Marriage — Settlement of divorce 318 CHAPTER XXVH. Breach of etiquette — Important document — My ultimatum — Sale of a horse — The last arrow ! — Largess — Summoned — An imposing spectacle — A Turcoman joke — My advocate 332

Chapter XXVIII

Fresh delays — Turcoman inertia — Final presents — Sun-burning — The Tandara Pass — Down with fever — Back to civilisation . . . THE STOEY OF MEEV.

Chapter I

Across the Steppe — Delays in landing — The Troika — The Steppes — Russian stations — A sporting country — Thievish Tartars — The Grand Hotel — General Lazarets — A dreary ride — Reaching Baku. I left Trebizond at sunset on Wednesday, February 5, 1879, en route for Central Asia. It was my intention to travel to Central Thibet, but subsequent circumstances obliged me to alter my resolution, and directed my steps to a locality perhaps not less interesting. I started by the English steamer ' Principe di Carignano,' reaching Batoum early on the morning of the 6th. I found that place wonderfully increased in size, even during the short time which had elapsed since the Rus sian occupation. The number of houses had almost trebled, and, after the fashion of Russia generally, the majority of these consisted of rum and vodka shops.

At least one barrel-organ was to be heard grinding in the streets, and, for the first time in the history of the town, public vehicles — the Russian phaeton, or gig — plied for hire. The same afternoon, the ' Principe di Carignano ' continued her voyage, arriving at the mouth of the Rion river in two and a half hours. Here one became fully impressed with the necessity felt by Russia for a B DELAYS IN LANDING. better naval station than Poti on the Southern Black Sea littoral. The extreme shallowness of the water obliged us to anchor at least a mile and a half from the low pebbly beach, and, owing to the violent off-shore wind which prevailed, which would neither allow us to send boats ashore, nor the usual tug steamer, employed for disem barking passengers, to come off, two days and a half elapsed before the slightest chance of landing occurred.

At length some of the fishing luggers ventured to put out from the river's mouth, and brought us and our baggage ashore. Ai-rived within the mouth of the river, we were taken in tow by a small steamer, which tugged us a distance of two miles, finally landing us at the town of Poti itself. The river banks on either side presented a dismal aspect. Everything seemed but lately to have been inun dated. Rotting ' snags ' stuck out from the slimy surface of the semi-stagnant water ; the lower portion of those trees which stood along the margin looked black and rotting, and a general odour of decomposing vegetable matter permeated the ah. Poti is notorious for its unhealthy, feverish climate, and, considering its immediate surroundings, I am not surprised at this. As a naval station there can be no comparison between it and Batoum.

Leaving Poti late in the afternoon, after plenty of trouble and delays connected with passports and baggage examinations, one arrives by rail at Tiflis, the capital of the Trans-Caucasus, early on the following morning. The first thing that strikes the eye is the semi- Asiatic, semi-European aspect of the place — the old town, with its narrow streets, its old-fashioned booths, and artisans plying their trades in full view of the public, together with Tartar head-dresses and fur-lined coats, contrasting violently with the palatial houses, wide THE TROIKA. 3 prospects, and great open gardens, thronged with persons of both sexes, wearing "Western European fashionable attire. I was unfortunate enough to miss seeing Prince Mirski, the governor of the town, he being absent in the interior ; so, after a couple of days' delay at the Hotel Cavcass, I prepared for my journey across the steppes.

On the strength of the Russian official order, which after a good deal of trouble I obtained, the people of the hotel undertook to find me the orthodox postal vehicle with the due number of horses and the official conductor. At the moment of which I speak I had never seen a troika, but I had a kind of preconceived idea about four fiery steeds and a fur-lined carriage, in which the traveller is whirled in luxury to his destination. Judge of my sur prise when, on a raw winter's morning, I saw a nameless kind of thing drawn up before the door of the hotel. Though I had just been summoned from bed to take my place, I had not the slightest suspicion that the four wheeled horror before me was even intended for my lug gage. The hall porter and some chilly-looking waiters were standing around, impatiently awaiting a ' gratifica tion,' and I was beginning to get stiff with cold.

At length I asked, ' Where is this coach ? ' ' Your Excellence,' said the porter, ' it is there before you.' When I shall have described a troika, no one will wonder at the excla mation of amazement and terror which burst from my lips at the bare idea that I had to travel four hundred miles in such a thing. Imagine a pig-trough of the roughest possible construction, four feet and a half long, two and a half wide at the top, and one at the bottom, filled with coarse hay, more than half thistles, and set upon four poles, which in turn rest upon the axles of two pairs of wheels. Besides these poles, springs, even of the most rudimentary kind, there are none. B THE STEPPES. The driver, clad in a rough sheepskin tunic, fitting closely at the waist, the woolly side turned inwards, and wearing a prodigious conical cap of the same material, sits upon the forward edge of the vehicle.

With a com bination of patched leather straps and knotted ropes by way of reins, he conducts the three horses. The centre animal is between the two shafts, which are joined by a high wooden arch of a parabolic form. From the summit of this arch a leather strap, passing under the animal's chin, keeps his head high, while two pretty large bells, hung just where he ought to keep his ears, force him to carry the latter in a painfully constrained position, while during the whole of the stage he must be almost deafened by the clang. The horses on either side are very loosely harnessed ; so much so, that while the central one is, with the vehicle, running along a deep narrow cutting, the flankers are on the top of high banks on either side, or vice versa. Once for all, I give a description of a troika as the species of carriage in which I made my journey to the Caspian.

As the stations at which relays are usually found are but twenty-seven or twenty-eight miles apart, they are gone over, almost the whole time, at full gallop. In such guise, mingled with heterogeneous portions of luggage, and wallowing in thorny hay, I was whirled out of Tiflis, and across the long rolling sandy expanses that form the steppes — past Mohammedan tombs, amidst whose walls nomadic shepherds cowered over their fires, with their flocks of sheep and goats hard by — past strings of groaning camels laden with petroleum from Baku. Flocks of pigeons start from the dusty track. They fly on a hundred yards, and then, with a curious obstinacy, settle again and again before us, to be driven on again. Away to the left the giant range of the Caucasus treni- RUSSIAN STATIONS, 5 bles in ghastly whiteness athwart the cloudless sky, and at its base stretches widely a blue mirage that mocks the Kur, alongside of which we go.

To the right, farther off still, fainter and more visionary than the Caucasus, are the Persian mountains. Between, a vast dun expanse, fifty or sixty miles across, the horizon ahead, clear and uninterrupted as that of mid-ocean. At length, after a weary ride, the postal station is reached ; generally a collection of a few small buildings, under the management of a station-master, who, with his military uniform and flat regulation cap, is the only sign of officialism about the place. As a rule, I found these station-masters exceedingly obliging, and ready to afford the traveller every assistance. At each station house is a ' guest-chamber,' as the Mohammedans style the apartment in then houses which is appropriated to the reception of strangers. It is generally a small room containing two wooden camp-beds, a table, a fireplace, and sometimes a couple of chairs.

No bedding is provided, the traveller being supposed to bring this with him, as well as his food, tea, sugar, &c. A petroleum lamp burns all night within the chamber, and another is attached to the blue and white striped post at the door, which indicates the station, with its distance from the last centre of Government, in versts. Usually it is difficult to procure food, unless some of the women of the establishment can supply a few eggs and some sheets of the peculiar leathery bread, rivalling in size and consistency a cobbler's apron, which seems to pervade the entire East. The only thing the traveller can be certain of finding is the redoubtable samovar. This instrument is to be found in the humblest Tartar hovel, for tea — morning, noon, and night — seems an absolutely indispensable necessity A SPORTING COUNTRY. of Russian populations.

Weak tea swallowed, the tra veller again mounts his chariot, which at once dashes away in the most reckless fashion, utterly regardless of the nature or state of the road. The drivers make all kinds of short cuts, very much as a rider would after the hounds. In fact, at times I can only compare our progress to a headlong steeplechase over a violently accidented ploughed field, with continually occurring mad dances across steep-sided torrent-beds filled with large boulders, the banks on either side having a slope of thirty or forty degrees, sometimes more. At tbe third station from Tiflis the traveller may be said to bid adieu for the time to civilisation, and en counters swampy riverside, primeval forest-patch, and endless temptations for the sportsman, for one is amidst the homes of the wild boar, the lynx, the wolf, and the wild cat.

These latter are really formidable creatures — little less in size than a leopard, of a lion-tawny coloured stiff fur, with flat heads and noses, half-way between those of an otter and a bulldog. One had just been shot by a peasant close to the station. The habitations of the Tartar families are even more tro glodytic than those of Central Armenia. In the latter place there is, at least, something like a slightly raised tumulus to suggest to the experienced eye that a dwelling exists, or did so formerly. Here advantage is taken of some scarped bank, into which a broad deep trench is cut. This is covered over with hurdles and branches, and the earth which covers all is scarcely, if at all, above the level of the surrounding surface. Here and there a wooden cask-like construction acts as chimney; but in most instances this last is simply a hole in the ground, with stone coping, and a small wooden fence erected THIEVISH TARTARS. round it to prevent human beings or cattle from falling through.

Buffaloes and goats wander at will over these singular house-tops. A stranger is often startled, while strolling over what he considers solid ground, to come upon an oblong opening, through which he can hear human voices, while huge wolf-like dogs are prowling about, making him pass them by with a sidelong edging movement by way of precaution. These places are very unhealthy. At one time I feared that I had caught the much-dreaded Astrakan plague, but I recovered after a couple of days and a good deal of quinine. A still worse mishap, however, occurred at one station. I had a small leather writing-case, closed by a lock, and con taining all my maps, notes, and writing material. There are always prowling round a large station a number of thievish Tartars, and while seeing to the transfer of my baggage to the place where I was to pass the night, one of these itinerant gentlemen, evidently mistaking the article for a money-box, made off with it.

On missing it I at once called on the officer at the station to despatch men to pursue the thief. Every thing possible was done, but in vain, and in the interim my sword-belt disappeared. Endless objects of interest meet the eye to relieve the toilsome journey. Camels trailing loads of osiers, and looking like gigantic porcupines ; trains of huge waggons from Persia drawn by four or five horses abreast ; a Tar tar cavalcade with indigenous ladies on horseback clad in staring red garments, and closely veiled ; and at last, all white in the glaring sun, you reach the half- Asiatic, half-European town of Elizabethpol, a sort of halfway house between the last traces of Europe and the Caspian shore. There are Tartar shops in the bazaar, there are THE GRAND HOTEL. Tartar minarets on the mosques, there are kalpaked Tar tars in the streets ; the latter contrasting with the patrols of from thirty to forty soldiers, with long grey coats and fixed bayonets, marching slowly along the public ways.

There are Turkish cafes — holes in the wall, as we should probably call them — mere niches, within which the pro prietor crouches, nursing his charcoal fire wherewith to light water-pipes for his customers. My battered conveyance drew up at the door of what I should be tempted to call a caravanserai, but it was the Grand Hotel of Elizabethpol, and here I was at last shown into a bedroom without bed, and where I could not wash because the basin was in use. There was a table-d'hote, but the bill of fare was an illusion, for the only things procurable were ham and caviare. The latter is said to be a delicacy. A spoonful I once by accident tasted at Constantinople reminded me of cod-liver oil. Here, according to Russian etiquette, I donned the best suit my saddle-bags afforded, and called at the palace of the Government, where I paid my respects to the local governor, Prince Chavchavaza.

I was received in a chamber hung with ancient tapestry, the walls of which were garnished with arms of different periods, captured during the protracted struggle in which Schamyl led the Caucasians. The Prince was most courteous, but he did not understand French, and our conversation was carried on by means of his secretary. Here I learned news that entirely changed my plans. For after a short conver sation on political matters, suddenly turning to me, the Prince fixed his dark eyes upon my face with a piercing glance, and said, ' Do you know that we expect an army corps shortly, bound for the shores of the Caspian ? ' ' My prince,' I replied, ' I was unaware of the fact. Where are they going to ? ' ' There is an expedition GENERAL LAZAREFF. against the Turcomans,' he said, ' commanded by General Lazareff.' This was news for me, and I resolved, instead of proceeding on my original mission, to follow the operations of the Russian columns.

Having thus deter mined, nothing was left but to await the arrival of the Commander-in-Chief, General Lazareff, and to ask his permission to accompany his expedition. I waited several days, amid the usual spendthrift extravagance of Russian border towns, and at length the colossal old general made his appearance. General Lazareff was no ordinary indi vidual. He was over six feet in stature, and broadly made in proportion. A mass of jaw was surmounted by a more than Cæsarian nose, and the large grey eye, half hidden by the heavy eyelid, denoted the amount of observation which as a specialty belongs to his race — the Armenian. Up to the age of twenty years he worked as a journeyman tailor. Then joining the Russian army he soon became sergeant. He was the capturer of Schamyl in his stronghold in the Caucasus ; and, later on, it was owing to his intrepidity and intrigues that Kars became a Russian citadel, instead of remaining under Turkish rule.

After two days I once more set off to encounter the same undulating plains, the same dust, the same groaning camels ; with an occasional change in the shape of mountain, river, and Armenian villages, with vineyards stretching around. Sometimes I was glad to walk over the rough ground to avoid the risk of broken bones, and pick my way through the rocks or miry loam. Here and there we came upon a solitary camel abandoned by some passing caravan, his depleted hump hanging over on one side like an empty sack, and indicating an absolute state of exhaustion. At last the road began to rise, and we crossed an A DREARY RIDE. -elevated mountain chain, the route leading us into the region of cloud, and cold, and mountain torrent. On one occasion we were five hours in traversing the most dreadful mountain tracks, often along the top of some great landslip which the torrent at its base had sapped from the mountain side.

The country seemed alive with field mice, rats, and ferrets. Leaving the mountain with its snow and fog behind, it was an inexpressible relief to reach once more the dry, warm plain that stretched to Sbumakha, where I spent my night upon the rude benches of the guest-chamber. I started again early on the morning of Wednesday, the 27th, passing another ex ceedingly disagreeable and difficult series of mountains deeply covered with snow, and at last, after endless troubles at various stations, where horses were wanting, with an obstinate driver who objected to leave the place on account of a wedding, and on my insisting upon pro ceeding upsetting the troika and breaking the harness, it was at seven o'clock in the morning when, after a weary night drive, we came in sight of Baku, lying some ten versts off ; the Caspian, glittering beyond, being seen at intervals between the low hills that flanked its border.

The country at this point is inexpressibly dreary and volcanic-looking ; the salt incrustations lying thick upon the earth. Here and there were straggling Tartar villages, with thenflat houses and preposterously large conical chimneys, looking like gigantic mushrooms. From time to time we passed along the road the peculiar-looking carts characteristic of the country. The wheels were not less than eight feet in diameter, and very close to each other, the body of the cart being but two feet wide, a structure like a pulpit rising in front, gaudily painted, and probably intended for the use of the con ductor. Entering Baku itself, the driver descended for REACHING BAKU. 11 a moment from his seat to tie up the bells hanging from the wooden arch above the central horse, the municipal regulations forbidding the entry of postal vehicles ac companied by their usual jangling uproar, lest the horses of the town phaetons should take fright. A PETROLEUM CITY.

Chapter II

A petroleum city — Petroleum — Fire worship — A strange rite — The Turcomans — Chatte — Flies and mosquitoes — A reconnaissance — In gorgeous array - Caucasian horsemen — The handjar. While I] was staying in Baku I was a good deal in terested in the peculiar nature of the soil. During the storms that are very frequent, dense clouds of dim yellow dust arise, and this contains so much bitumen that the least glow of sunshine fixes it indelibly upon one's clothes. The streets are moistened with the coarse black residual naphtha that remains after distillation of the raw petroleum, and this effectually lays the dust for about a fortnight. Petroleum abounds in the neigh bom-hood, and its mineral springs are busily worked by means of well-borings which are sometimes sunk to a depth of 150 yards. At times the naphtha rises to the surface, and even flows over abundantly, occasionally springing fountain-like into the air to a height of eight or ten feet for hours together, as in the case of the artesian well.

In such cases the ground around the boring is often flooded to a depth of six inches with the mineral oil, which, to avoid the danger of a conflagra tion, has to be let off by channels constructed so as to lead it seaward. Under ordinary circumstances, it has to be drawn up from a considerable depth. The boring is generally ten, or at most eighteen, inches in diameter. A long bucket, or rather a tube stopped at PETROLEUM. the bottom, and fifteen feet in length, is lowered into the well, and drawn up full of crude petroleum — fifty gallons at a time. This, which is a blue-pink transparent liquid, is poured into a rudely constructed, plank-lined trough at the door of the well-house, whence it flows by an equally rude channel to the distillery. Apart from the local use of petroleum for lighting, and its exportation for a similar purpose, is its application to steam navigation.

With the old-fashioned boilers in use, which have a central opening running longitudinally, no modification is necessary for the application of the new fuel. A reservoir, containing some hundred pounds' weight of the refuse (astatki), is furnished with a small tube, bearing another at its ex tremity, a few inches long, and at right angles with the conduit. From this latter it trickles slowly. Close by is the mouth of another tube, connected with the boiler. A pan containing tow or wood saturated with astatki is first introduced to heat the water, and, once the slightest steam pressure is produced, a jet of vapour is thrown upon the dropping bituminous fluid, which is thus converted into spray. A light is applied, and then a roaring deluge of fire inundates the central opening of the boiler.