On the left of the van the mysterious box is in its place.

It is only half-past six as yet, and there is too much daylight for me to risk the gratification of my curiosity.
The train advances through the open desert.

This is the Kara Koum, the Black Desert.

It extends from Khiva over all Turkestan comprised between the Persian frontier and the course of the Amou Daria.

In reality the sands of the Kara Koum are no more black than the waters of the Black Sea or than those of the White Sea are white, those of the Red Sea red, or those of the Yellow River yellow.