According to what Major Noltitz says it still retains the traces of Skobeleffs terrible assault in 1880--dismantled walls, bastions in ruins.

I must content myself with having seen all that with the major's eyes.
The train starts at two o'clock in the morning, after having been joined by a few passengers who Popof tells me are Turkomans.

I will have a look at them when daylight comes.
For ten minutes I remained on the car platform and watched the heights of the Persian frontier on the extreme limit of the horizon.

Beyond the stretch of verdant oasis watered by a number of creeks, we crossed wide cultivated plains through which the line made frequent diversions.
Having discovered that Popof did not intend to go to sleep again, I went back to my corner.
At three o'clock there was another stop.

The name of Askhabad was shouted along the platform.