gradually drew off, not a man being left at evening. Their loss is estimated at 100 killed and wounded. Our casualties were seven men wounded. The enemy had brought 200 of their women to witness the final successful attack, but they were all disappointed. General Gough occupied the Shinkai Kotal on the evening of the 19th and reached the Shutargardan next day in a snow storm. His arrival was the signal for the dispersion of all tribes.

CHAPTER IX.

Camp Life at Cabul-Afghan Costermongers-Curiosity of Villagers--The HazarasSurrender of Firearms-City Traders-The Purchase of Transport AnimalsPeaceful State of the Country-The Abdication of the Amir-His Reasons for the Step-Assumption of the Government by the British-General Roberts's Proclamation-Arrest of the Amir-Progress of the Inquiry into the Massacre-The Murder of Abdul Karim-Military Executions-Seizure of Treasure.

CAMP SIAH SUNG, 25th October.

OUR lines are cast in pleasant places just at present; for, apart from the political puzzle which some of us study, and which I have already tried to explain, there is nothing to disturb our equanimity. We have a high and dry encamping ground, from which we can travel down at our leisure, either citywards, to explore the mysteries of Cabul and ponder over the Bala Hissar, now rapidly being cleared out; or else down into the Cabul plain, to exercise our horses on the racecourse, or over the waterchannels which everywhere intersect the fields. The view on every side is an impressive one, for the mountains which keep watch and ward over Cabul are very picturesque, rising abruptly from the fields below, and seeming to shut us out securely from the petty world beyond. News of that outer world has been very scant of late, and it is with ill-concealed impatience that many of us turn eastward to where the Khurd Cabul and Jugdulluck Hills hide the long valley up which the Khyber column is crawling with tortoise-slowness. There comes no heliographic flash down to cheer us, and one might as well consult the impassible Hindu Kush itself. But there is a pleasanter outlook westwards.

Through the gorge in rear of the city we catch a glimpse of the Chardeh Valley, a very Eden of fertility, and in the far background is the high range of mountains forming the sky-line towards distant Turkistan, over which we have gorgeous sunsets that more than atone for the chilliness which creeps over Siah Sung Ridge as the day closes. We have the sharp air of the early morning to brace us for routine work that must be gone through, and such genial warmth all day as to make the shade of our tight little tents seem almost superfluous. Whatever of cold and discomfort there may be in store for us, we are comfortable enough now, though perhaps the air bites shrewdly at midnight to the sentry at his post. His outlook is chiefly for thieves who may think there is loot to be got in our camp; but we seem to have frightened the people into honesty, for robberies are unknown. Our camp is thronged with petty traders, and in convenient spots are little bazaars for our soldiers and camp-followers, to whom they are a rare boon. Fruit in abundance is exposed most temptingly grapes, apples, pears, and pomegranates being sold so cheaply that a few pice will buy sufficient to satisfy even a soldier's appetite; while melons of a flavour and succulency almost unknown to us poor dwellers in Hindustan are piled together in profusion. The usual curry-stuffs and native delicacies are ranged alongside these edibles; and occasionally some delicious beetroot or a gigantic cabbage nestling in a heap of bright-skinned onions tempts a khansamah doing his day's marketing to halt and haggle in a lordly manner until a fair bargain is struck. The Afghan "coster" is not an easy personage to deal with, for he has learnt the value of our rupees, and is determined to make the most of the present opportunity. In our canvas streets there is all day long a busy stream of men and boys eagerly selling wares from the city and surrounding villages, and if so inclined we could spend hours in making casual purchases. In the early morning villagers with their simple produce of fowls, ducks, pigeons, eggs, jars of milk and clotted cream-the latter particularly good-come sauntering in and pass away their time in intently gazing at our strange freaks in the way of early "tubs" or substantial breakfasts. Their livestock slung across their shoulders, or carelessly carried head downwards, appears quite a secondary consideration, until they

Visitors in Camp.

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are pounced upon by some bon-vivant, who thinks life is not worth living if it is merely to be sustained by commissariat rations -now, alas! minus their redeeming feature of wholesome. rum. Once the villager sees a bargain may be made, he wakes up suddenly to the fact of having something to sell, and in the patois of the country explains the number of rupees or annas he requires. That he does not get them need scarcely be said, as his first prices are exorbitant; but after some pantomimic action, or by calling in the aid of some Pathan sepoy near at hand, terms are arranged, and with the silver bits stowed away mysteriously in his waistcloth the innocent native wends his way to another part of the camp, there to dispose of more of his stock. When he has got rid of his little store he does not, as a conscientious husbandman should, go quietly home, but hangs about our tents with a face full of inquiry and amazement. He pushes his curiosity at times almost to impertinence, perhaps with the philanthropic idea of giving us a few wrinkles as to the proper mode of living in this part of the world; but at the first sharp word he "moves on a few paces, and turns his attention to some other feature of our local life. That he is poor and strictly dishonest there can be no reasonable doubt; but his poverty will pass away if we stay long at Cabul, and his dishonesty will be covered with the cloak of simplicity as long as military law prevails. This class of peasant who comes into our midst is not of the usual bloodthirsty Afghan type; and he comes too, without arms, for our proclamation against carrying weapons is now widely known, and whatever he may be on his native heath, when his tribe is on the war-path, he looks inoffensive enough now.

Among our other visitors are the Hazaras: the hewers of wood and drawers of water, as they have been called, of all Afghanistan. Their Mongol type of face, beardless and with the true slanting eyes of their race, is noticeable at once among the Jewish-looking Afghans whom they serve so well. Sunburnt, and with many coats of dirt upon them, they look the real labourers of the land; and as their stalwart backs are generally bent under heavy loads of firewood or huge sacks of forage, it can be seen they are no drones. They are always very intent upon their work, never loitering or wonder-struck; and in this respect they resemble the Ghoorkas.

They are good-humoured and happy enough, and any stray salutation cast to them is always answered by a smile and a nod of their felt-crowned heads, as if kindness were too rare not to be acknowledged. Sometimes their burdens are very different from those just mentioned, for they come staggering in with a score of matchlocks or Enfield rifles on their backs which their village maliks have sent in to be bought up and destroyed by the Sirkar. This bringing in of arms has been quite a feature of camp life, it being by no means unusual to meet a file of these men, each laden with the guns that are to be given up. They are thrown down, and counted by soldiers told off for the duty, and the idlers from the city gather round to stare at our contemptuous examination of the weapons. As most of the guns are loaded and even doubled-loaded, it is somewhat risky to meddle with them; but curiosity prompts us to look down muzzles and cock triggers in a most reckless way. The Sniders are safe enough to handle, as the breech can be opened and any cartridge withdrawn ; but with the others it is different. Tower-marked Enfields rest side by side with the old two-grooved Brunswick rifle; while Cabulmade smooth-bores and imitation Enfields are mixed with jhezails and the "Brown Besses" the Indian Government gave away so lavishly in the days of their foolishness. We are destroying these arms-locks, stock, and barrel-except in the case of such Sniders as seem really serviceable. The Afghan Snider is by no means a badly-made weapon, and the cartridges from the Bala Hissar Arsenal are equally good. The latter are of a kind known as solid-drawn, with strong bases, and if recapped can be used several times with perfect safety. Where machinery and skilled mechanics are scarce, this is, of course, a great consideration. We do not find many cartridges delivered up, and it seems a pity that a small price was not fixed upon powder and lead so as to make disarmament more complete. There are thousands of good rifles still scattered over the country, in the hands of the Amir's soldiers; and, in the future, ammunition will be greatly in request, now that the Bala Hissar has fallen into our hands. A few swords, bayonets, and knives, have come in, but they are of no account. We have received over 3,000 rifles and guns of the different kinds mentioned, and more will, perhaps, be given up.

An Astute Class.

103

Far removed from the villagers and the Hazaras are the more pretentious city traders, who bring poshteens, furs, native cloth, chinaware, old coins, Bokhara silks, Persian carpets, jewellery, and precious stones for sale. They are mostly Kizilbashes and Cabulborn Hindus, many of whom have travelled far and have seen most of the cities of Central and Western Asia. As traders they are as keen as Jew pedlars: as visitors they make themselves as much at home as our intimate friends. To bargain with them is

an exercise in chicanery that would quicken the wits of a Shylock: to listen to their soft flattery as they extol the benefits of British rule is to believe that we are the finest race in the world. The chicanery is glossed over and hidden by the soothing praises of our benevolence, and the crimson-turbaned Kizilbash or castemarked Hindu, who has sat himself on our stool or squatted in our tent is enriched accordingly. We buy furs that would cost us less in Peshawur, and silks that, perhaps, have never seen a Bokhara loom, and think we have done well in our bargaining; whereas, most likely, the worthy traders have netted excessive profits. It is the old story of our rupees filling the coffers of the people we have come among as conquerors, and of our pride forbidding us to acknowledge it. And yet we enjoy the chaffering with these rascals, and find an amusement in making them turn out their pockets. From one will be produced a rare fox-skin, from another a Russian tea-cup and saucer (made in England, but stamped with the Moscow dealer's name); from a third a little packet of diamonds or turquoises-the latter often of a beautiful colour, but marred by flaws. Then the rings on the man's finger are taken off and examined, the owner fixing a price that is almost prohibitive on each stone; or a curiously-worked belt and pouch is unbuckled at our insistance, and appraised in the usual way. And so on to the end of the chapter. But Kizilbash or Hindu is more than a match for the Western Kafir; and one is tempted to believe that the Caucasian is really" played out "as far as astuteness in trading goes. Perhaps we may be more successful in dealing with the genuine Afghan in the city bazaars which we are now beginning to visit.

Besides the mercenary bartering that wiles away our leisure, there is plenty of stir and excitement in our camp life. Maliks