and one can sip cup after cup with an enjoyment that positively increases with indulgence. The Sirdar's friends are mostly notable men that grey-bearded old gentleman on his right is a tribal chief of some importance, who has come from his distant village to see how things move in Cabul after the late jehad; that dark-visaged man is a Bokhara trader, whose mind holds news of the White Czar and of the changing fates of the Central Asian Khanates; while his counterpart is another trader returned from Hindustan, where he has, perhaps, seen and learnt much that may shape the Sirdar's views in future. Behind the Sirdar is a richly embroidered purdah veiling the entrance to the zenana, wherein the quiet life of the women slowly moves. Our conversation is short and purely ornamental, and we take our leave, plea santly impressed with the courtesy shown, but pondering over the depth of Afghan duplicity which is so cunningly hidden. The Sirdar passes his morning among his friends, and in the afternoon he will probably visit General Roberts or Major Hastings, the Chief Political Officer, to learn much, but to impart little. How far he can be trusted no one knows, not excepting even himself. If by serving us he can make his position secure, he will "sell" his nearest friends; if he thinks his interests are safe with men opposing us, he will thwart our projects with all the skill he possesses. His life now is not so restless as in old days, as our army has broken up all settled government, and the prospect is so hazy, that to dabble too openly in dangerous schemes might land him in distant Calcutta, to bear Daoud Shah company. Our Sirdar has lakhs of money hidden away in his house or buried in some secret spot; but he is cunning enough to swear that he lost greatly when Mahomed Jan held Cabul, and asks the British Government to recoup him, as he has always been faithful to its interests. The new influences at work upon his life are not so welcome to him, as they are novel and not to be easily understood; and he would far prefer the old order of things, when he could pit himself against some rival and gain his ends by crooked ways that he knows we should not countenance. If his chances just now of being shot or stabbed are not so great as formerly, he does not, with his fatalistic ideas, appreciate the change; and at times he grows sullen, and is discontented with our temporary rule.

The trader is a very different personage: he has seen men and cities, and his chief aim is to amass wealth, which he believes to be the keystone of happiness. His vocation now in Cabul is to make fabulous profits out of the British army of occupation which has invaded the sanctity of the city, and cowed its fanatical populace. In his heart of hearts the trader hates us sincerely; but he will endure curses from the Commissariat, or hard words from under-strappers, for the sake of the few lakhs of rupees he hopes to pocket. He will take contracts for anything, from sheep to charpoys, and will fleece everyone dealing with him with such calm self-assurance, that one is inclined to adopt, once for all, the theory that the Afghans are, indeed, the lost tribes of Israel. He is a power in the city, for he has money always at his command; and though he may have suffered grievously from extortion, he is shrewd enough to know that complaints are useless. He will visit our friend the Sirdar, and will gain his countenance and help in some nefarious transaction, perhaps such as "bearing" the money market, cutting off our sheep supply, or raising the prices of articles suddenly in demand. He may play the part of political spy in return for the Sirdar's help, or become a principal in some scheme that requires delicate working. The trader has his house, which also serves as a store-house for his goods, in some filthy corner of Cabul; and some near relative acts as a partner, and does the dirty work of retailing his goods from a narrow stall in the bazaar. Should a big transaction be coming off, with some merchant from the Khanates, in silks, furs, or precious stones, the trader has the universal tea-drinking, to which he invites the stranger, and he spends days in ceaseless chafering until the prices are duly fixed and the bargain concluded. In the bazaar itself but little trade on a large scale is carried on, the travelling merchants storing their goods in one or other of the large serais, while they let it be known from stall to stall that they have merchandise on sale. The trader is naturally of a peaceable disposition, and as his house is usually stored with rich goods, and his hoards of money are buried beneath the ground in his courtyard, he dreads an outbreak by the populace, who may levy contributions upon his effects. But he has within him the Afghan instinct of sturdy resistance to all assailants.

With his iron-studded door closed against intruders, with half a dozen servants armed à la Cabul with gun pistol, and knife, he is no mean antagonist to deal with. He would scarcely join in a tumult except when his fanaticism overcame his better judgment, for there are too many risks to be run when once a populace like that of Cabul has broken free from all control. The trader in this respect is considerably removed from the mere stall keeper, who is always ripe for riot, and is never better pleased than when turning out fully armed. We have seen a great deal since our occupation of the trader, and he does not improve upon acquaintance. He is cringing and subservient when a tight hand is kept upon him, but beneath his plausibility is a fund of cunning, which carries him triumphantly through all his knavery. Like the Sirdar, he is an instrument we are forced to use in this unprofitable country, but which is to be thrown away without compunction when done with.

CHAPTER XXIII.

The Afghan Army-The Amir Shere Ali's Efforts to raise Disciplined Troops-The founding of Guns-Surferaz's Failure-A Cabuli Gunsmith sent to Peshawur Arsenal-A Foundry established in Cabul-The Manufacture of Rifled Guns and Small Arms-Cabuli Gunpowder and Cartridges-Percussion Caps-Army Clothing Department-The Number of Guns and Small Arms in Afghanistan-Cost of Shere Ali's Army-Weakness of the Organization-Regulars versus Tribesmen-Their Behaviour in various Actions-The Failure of the Regular Army-Suggestion for the Creation of a Militia-The Ghazi Element among Irregulars-How a Ghazi is Made-His Mode of Fighting.

SHERPUR, 28th January, 1880.

AFGHANISTAN is a nation of soldiers, every adult being (apart from any military training he may receive) a ready swordsman and a fair shot. In our old wars we found but little organization existing among the followers of the Dost and his son, Mahomed Akhbar, and the discipline of our troops told in the long run. against the masses they had to face. Afghanistan then produced, as a writer has said, nothing but stones and men: the stones made good sungars, which thousands of men were always ready to defend. But after Shere Ali had assumed the Amirship, a change

Shere Ali's Army.

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came over the "war department" of the country: that shrewd sovereign had his eyes opened to the necessity of having something more than an unlimited supply of men to fight his battles, and after his visit to India, in 1869, he began to cast about for means whereby he could arm and equip his troops in civilized fashion. Fortunately for his project, he was on the best of terms at that time with the Indian Government, and among the valuable presents he carried back with him to Cabul were a siege-train (consisting of four 18-pounders and two 8-inch howitzers), a mountain battery of six guns, 5,000 Snider rifles, 15,000 Enfields, and no less than 1,000,000 rounds of ball ammunition. This was the groundwork upon which he hoped to build up a well-equipped army, with artillery sufficient to make himself feared by all his neighbours, and respected both by the English and Russian Governments, upon his relations with which might ultimately depend the safety of his kingdom. To a man of less energy than Shere Ali, the project he took in hand would have seemed so full of difficulties, that it might have been reasonably abandoned after a fair trial; but the then Amir was a man of stubborn self-will; and his mind once made up, nothing could turn him from his object. The story of his successful struggle to create an army of all arms on the European pattern can be best told by reference to a report drawn up on information supplied by various sirdars and artisans, since our occupation of Cabul. Lieutenant Neville Chamberlain, Extra Assistant Political Officer, is the compiler of this valuable report, which gives in detail an account of Shere Ali's steady progress in the armament of his kingdom, until he made the fatal mistake of quarrelling with the British. cannot fail to be struck with astonishment at the rapidity with which guns were made, rifles imitated, and cartridges turned out by the 100,000 in a country which boasts of but few resources.

One

Shere Ali could easily enough make regiments of infantry and cavalry, dress them after the fashion of the men he had seen paraded in India, and drill them in a few simple movements. If he were guilty of the solecism of making Highlanders mount on horseback, there was no great blunder committed; they were his mounted rifles, and were not likely to come to grief, as every Afghan is more or less a horseman. But in the question of

Y

artillery, the Amir had to face a problem which must have cost him much anxious thought. The old brass cannon which had been used for many years as wall-pieces in the different fortresses of Afghanistan, sank into insignificance when compared with the guns Lord Mayo had given him. The latter were few in number, and it was all-important they should be multiplied, so that if three or four armies took the field, each should have its due complement of guns. There were skilled artisans in Cabul who had made brass guns; and one of these, named Surferaz, was given funds by Shere Ali and peremptorily ordered to turn out guns on the pattern of the siege-train and mountain battery which had lately arrived from India. The unlucky man tried his best; but, at the end of a few months, his work was pronounced a failure; and as he had spent Rs. 12,000 in his experiments, he was summarily thrown into prison, and all his property confiscated. This was his reward for obeying the orders of a tyrant. But Shere Ali was not to be foiled, and rightly attributing the failure to want of technical knowledge, he sent the uncle of Surferaz, Dost Mahomed, a skilled gunsmith, to Peshawur, to be instructed in the mysteries of rifled guns. Dost Mahomed may be allowed to tell his own

story, as it is full of interest. He says:

"I am a Cabuli by birth and a gunsmith. My father was a gunsmith before me. After Shere Ali's return from India, I was sent to Peshawur with a letter to Colonel Pollock, the Commissioner there, in which he was asked to allow me to visit the Arsenal, and see how the rifled guns were made. I remained in Peshawur for three months, until the permission of Government arrived. I then visited the Arsenal daily, and saw exactly how everything was done; and on my departure I was given models of guns in wood, with complete drawings of the details. I returned to Cabul, and with these models and some complete models of rifled breech-loading Armstrongs, which had been given to the Amir during his visit to India, I began work. I had three principal assistants: my nephew, Surferaz (who had then been liberated), Mahomed Ali, and a man named Rashed. Any number of workmen were at my disposal, as I had only to state the number I required, and they were impressed from among the city smiths. Before commencing a gun, a sum of money was given to me,