Part I. of my “Dardistan” and which the _Dardistan in 1866, 1886 and 1893 Being an account of the history, religions, customs, legends, fables, and songs of Gilgit, Chilas, Kandia (Gabrial), Dasin, Chitral, Hunsa, Nagyr, and other parts of the Hindukush, as also a supplement to the second edition of the Hunza and Nagyr handbook and an epitome of part III of the author's "The languages and races of Dardistan"

very considerable and important light on matters heretofore veiled in

great obscurity.” That some obscurity still exists, is evident from the

_Times_ telegram of to-day (5th December, 1892), in which an item of

news from the Tak [Takk] valley is described as coming from _Chitrál_,

a distant country with which Chilás has nothing to do. The Takk village

is fortified, and through the valley is the shortest and easiest road

to our British district of Kaghán. It is alleged that some headmen of

Takk wished to see Dr. Robertson at Gilgit, who thereupon sent a raft to

bring them, but the raft was fired on and Capt. Wallace, who went to its

assistance, was wounded. [Chilás is on the Kashmir side of the Indus, and

the Gilgit territory is reached by crossing the Indus at Bunji.]

The incident is ascribed either to “_the treachery of the men who

professed willingness to COME IN_” or to the mischievousness of “other

persons.” It is probable from this suggestion of treachery and the

unconscious use of the words “to come in,” which is the Anglo-Indian

equivalent for “surrender,” that the headmen of Takk were _not_ willing

to make over their Fort to the British or to open the road to Gilgit.

The Takk incident, therefore, is not a part of the so-called “_Chitrál

usurpation_,” under which heading it immediately appears, but is a part

of _our_ usurpation on the tribes inhabiting the banks of the Indus. In

1843, these tribes inflicted a severe loss on the Sikh invaders, and

in my “history of the wars with Kashmir” the part taken by the manly

defenders of Takk, now reduced from 131 to some 90 houses, is given in

detail. It seems to me that as the Gilgit force was unable to support

“the Chitrál usurpation” of our protégé, Afzul-ul-Mulk, owing to his

being killed by his uncle Sher Afzul, it is to be employed to coerce the

Indus tribes to open out a road which ought never to have been withdrawn

from their hold. About 50 years ago the Takk men were stirred into

so-called rebellion by Kashmir agents in order to justify annexation. It

is to be hoped that history will not repeat itself, or that, at any rate,

the next 50 years will see the Indus tribes as independent and peaceful

as they have been since 1856, especially in Chilás (before 1892), and as

mysterious as Hunza ought to have remained till our unnecessary attack on

that country caused practically unknown Russia to be looked upon as the

Saviour of Nations “rightly struggling to be free” (see Baron Vrevsky’s

reply to the Hunza deputation). _Quem Deus vult perdere, prius dementat_;

and no greater instance of folly can be conceived, than the construction

of a military road through countries in which the chamois is often

puzzled for its way. Nor was the attention of the Russians drawn to them

before we made our own encroachments.

As for the Pamirs, whatever may be the present interpretation of Prince

Gortchakoff’s Convention, the Russians were unwilling to let political

consequences or limits accompany the erratic wanderings of Kirghiz sheep

in search of pasturage in that region. Prince Gortchakoff’s advocacy of

a Neutral Zone and of the autonomy of certain tribes was justified by

the facts (which he, however, rather guessed than knew) and was worthy

alike of that Diplomatist and of our acceptance in the interests of India

and of peace. The incorporation of certain Districts in the domain, or

under the sphere of influence, of Afghanistan, was distasteful to tribes

attached to their hereditary rulers or to republican institutions and was

not too willingly accepted by the Amir of Afghanistan, who now expects

us to defend the white Elephants that we have given him better than we

did Panjdeh. Some Muláis that had fled from Russian tyranny to Afghan

territory assured me that “the finger of an Afghan was more oppressive

than the whole Russian army.” Indeed, so far as Central Asia is

concerned, Russia, with the exception of certain massacres, has hitherto

behaved, on the whole, as a great civilizing power.[109]

As for Sirdar Nizám-ul-Mulk, this is his _name_ and not his _title_. He

is the “Mihtar” or “Prince” Nizám-ul-Mulk, and neither an Indian “Sirdár”

nor a “Nizám.” He is also the “Badshah” of Turikoh, this being the

district assigned to him in his father’s lifetime as the heir-apparent.

He was snubbed by us for offering to relieve that excellent officer,

Col. Lockhart, when a prisoner in Wakhan! He has written to me from

Turikoh for “English phrases and words with their Persian equivalents

as a pleasure and a requirement.” This does not look like hostility to

the British. He spoke to me in 1886 of his brother Afzul’s bravery with

affection and pride, though he has ever maintained his own acknowledged

right as the successor of his father Amán-ul-Mulk. If he has been

alienated from us or has ever been tempted to throw himself into the arms

of Russia, it has most assuredly been our fault. Besides, just as we have

abandoned the Shiah Hazaras, our true friends during the late Afghan War,

to be destroyed by their religious and political foe, the Sunni Amir

Abdurrahman, so have the Amir Sher Ali and the Tham of Hunza, Safdar Ali

Khan, rued their trust in Russian Agents. I regret, therefore, to find

in the _Times_ telegram of to-day that “the Nizám” “is acting without

the support of the British Agent” “who has not interfered,” when he had

already interfered in favour of the usurper Afzul-ul-Mulk.

As for the connivance of Amir Abdurrahman, my “rough history of Dardistan

from 1800 to 1872” shows that, in one sense, Chitrál is tributary to

Badakhshán and as we have assigned Badakhshán to the Amir, he, no doubt,

takes an interest in Chitrál affairs. I believe, however, that interest

to be somewhat platonic, and he knows that his friend Jehandár Shah

(the late wrongfully deposed hereditary ruler of Badakhshán) never paid

any tribute to Afghanistan. But Chitrál once also paid tribute to Dîr,

with whose able Chief, Rahmat-ullah-Khan, “the Nizám” is connected by

marriage. Chitrál on the other hand has _received_ a subsidy from Kashmir

since 1877, but this was as much a tribute from Kashmir to Aman-ul-Mulk,

as a sign of his subjection to Kashmir, for shortly after he made offers

of allegiance to Kabul. With all alike it is

“The good old rule, the simple plan,

That they should take who have the power

And they should keep who can.”

It is misleading to speak of their relations to neighbouring States as

“tributary.” Are the Khyberis tributary to us or we to them, because we

pay them a tribute to let our merchants travel through their Pass? Have

we never ourselves come, first as suppliants, then as merchants, then as

guests, then as advisers, then as protectors, and, finally, as conquerors?

The procedure of Afghanistan, of Chitrál, of Kashmir, and of our own is

very much alike and so are the several radii of influence of the various

factors in “the question.” We have our fringe of independent frontier

tribes with whom we flirt, or wage war, as suits the convenience of the

moment. Afghanistan has a similar fringe of independent Ishmaelites round

it and even through it, whose hands are against everybody and everybody’s

hands against them. Chitrál is threatened all along its line by the

Kafirs, who even make a part of Badakhshán insecure, but are nevertheless

our very good friends. Kashmir has its fringe on its extreme border,

especially since, in violation of our treaty of 1846, it has attacked

countries _beyond the Indus on the west_, including the Kunjûtis of

Hunza, who resumed their raiding—which had ceased in 1867—during and

after Col. Lockhart’s visit in 1886. Yet there can be little doubt about

“the loyalty” of those concerned. The Amirs of Afghanistan consider

themselves “_shields of India_,” as I have heard two of them say, and

so did our Ally of Kashmir, who ought never to have been reduced to a

subordinate feudatory position. What wonder then that old Amán-ul-Mulk of

Chitrál should also have tried to become a buffer between Afghanistan on

the West, Kashmir on the East, India on the South and, latterly, Russia

in the North, if indeed the whole story of Russian intrigue in Chitrál

be at all truer than a similar mare’s nest which we discovered in Hunza?

It is the policy of Russia to create false alarms and thereby to involve

us in expenditure, whilst standing by and posing as the future saviour

of the tribes. Our tendency to compromises and subservient Commissions

of delimitation and to “scuttling” occasionally, is also well known and

so we are offered in Russian papers “_an Anglo-Russian understanding on

the subject of Chitrál_,” as if Chitrál was not altogether out of the

sphere of Russia’s legitimate influence! It is also amusing to find in

the _Novosti_ that Russia’s sole desire is “to prevent _Afghanistan_ from

falling into British hands.” We are already spending at Gilgit on food

etc. for our troops more in one year than were spent in the 40 years of

the so-called mismanagement of Kashmir, which I myself steadily exposed,

but which kept the frontier far more quiet than it has been since the

revival of the Gilgit Agency. There is every prospect now of heavier and

continued expenditure as the policy of the Foreign Department of the

Government of India develops. On that policy a _veto_ should at once

be put by the British Parliament and public, if our present Liberal

Administration cannot do so without pressure from without. We should

conciliate Nizam-ul-Mulk before it is too late. He is connected with Umra

Khan of Jandôl and with the influential Mullah Shahu of Bajaur through

his maternal uncle, Kokhan Beg. He has also connections in Badakhshan,

Hunza and Dîr, as already stated. Indeed, we ought to have given him our

support from the beginning. I doubt whether it would be desirable to

subdivide Chitrál as stated in to-day’s _Times_, letting Sher Afzul keep

Chitrál proper, giving Yasin to “the Nizám” and letting Umra Khan retain

what he has already seized of Southern Chitrál. As for Sher Afzul, I

believe, that he is also “loyal.”

As for Hunza, I am not at all certain that the fugitive, Safdar Ali Khan,

really murdered his father. At all events when the deed was committed,

I find that it was attributed to Muhammad Khan,[110] probably not the

present Mir Muhammad Nazim who has acknowledged the suzerainty of

England (through Kashmir) and of China. The latter power has always had

something to say to Hunza, and the very title of its Chief “Tham” is

of Chinese origin. The subsidy that China used to pay for keeping open

the commercial road from Badakhshan and Wakhan through the Pamirs along

Kunjût (Hunza) to Yarkand, was about £380 per annum, and this sum was

divided between four States and ensured the immunity of the route from

raids.[111] I doubt whether in future £380 a year on Hunza alone will

enable us to keep it quiet, and I am sure that the lofty superciliousness

with which Chinese officials discuss the Pamir question, as something

that scarcely concerns them, is no evidence of that pertinacious power

abandoning claims to a suzerainty in those regions which are historically

founded, although their exercise has been more by an appeal to

imagination of the glorious and invincible, if distant, “Khitái,” than by

actual interference.

Indeed, it is China alone that has a grievance—against Russia for the

occupation of the Alichur Pamir—against Afghanistan for expelling her

troops from Somatash (of subsequent Yanoff fame)—and against England

for encroaching on her ancient feudatory of Hunza, whose services in

suppressing the Khoja rebellion in 1847 are commemorated in a tablet on

one of the gates of Yarkand.

[Illustration: H. H. Mihtar Nizam-ul-Mulk and his late Yasin Council.]

[Illustration: Chitrali Musicians and the Badakshi Poet, Taighun Shah.]

NOTE.—We add a reproduction of the photographs of the Mihtar and Badshah

Nizam-ul-Mulk, sitting in Council with his uncle, Bahadur Khan, now at

Gilgit, where he represented Afzul-ul-Mulk. On the Nizam’s left is his

foster-uncle, Maimun Shah, whilst behind him stand our Indian Agent,

Wafadár Khan and a Chitráli office-holder, Wazîr Khan, of corresponding

rank. We also give the portrait of the Chitrál Court poet and musician,

the celebrated Taighûn Shah, one of whose songs, with its notation, was

published in our issue of the 1st of January, 1891. He is seated with the

two flute-players who always precede the King of Chitrál when on a tour.

* * * * *

Although the period may be past in which a great English Journal could

ask, “_what_ is Gilgit?” the contradictory telegrams and newspaper

accounts which we receive regarding the countries adjoining Gilgit show

that the Press has still much to learn. Names of places, as far apart

as Edinburgh and London, are put within a day’s march on foot. Names of

men figure on maps as places and the relationships of the Chiefs of the

region in question are invented or confounded as may suit the politics

of the moment, if not the capacity of the printer. The injunctions of

the Decalogue are applied or misapplied, extended or curtailed, to suit

immediate convenience, and a different standard of morality is constantly

being found for our friends of to-day or our foes of to-morrow. The youth

Afzul-ul-Mulk was credited with all human virtues and with even more than

British manliness, as he was supposed to be friendly to us. He had given

his country into our hands in order to receive our support against his

elder brother, the acknowledged heir of the late Aman-ul-Mulk of Chitrál,

but that elder brother, Nizám-ul-Mulk, was no less friendly to English

interests, although he has the advantage of being a man of capacity

and independence. The sudden death of Aman-ul-Mulk coincided with the

presence of our protégé at Chitrál, and the first thing that the virtuous

Afzul-ul-Mulk did, was to invite as many brothers as were within reach to

a banquet when he murdered them. No doubt, as a single-minded potentate,

he did not wish to be diverted from the task of governing his country by

the performance of social duties to the large circle of acquaintances in

brothers and their families which Providence bestows on a native ruler or

claimant in Chitrál and Yasin. A member of the Khush-waqtia dynasty of

Yasin, which is a branch of the Chitrál dynasty, told me when I expressed

my astonishment at the constant murders in his family: “A real relative

in a high family is a person whom God points out to one to kill as an

obstacle in one’s way, whereas a foster-relative (generally of a lower

class) is a true friend who rises and falls with one’s own fortune” (it

being the custom for a scion of a noble house to be given out to a nurse.)

* * * * *

The dynasty of Chitral is said to have been established by Baba Ayub,

an adventurer of Khorassan. He adopted the already existing name of

_Katór_, whence the dynasty is called Katore. The Emperor Baber refers

to the country of Katór in his Memoirs and a still more ancient origin

has been found in identifying Katór with “Kitolo, the King of the Great

Yuechi, who, in the beginning of the 5th century, conquered Balkh and

Gandhara, and whose son established the Kingdom of the Little Yuechi,

at Peshawur.” (See Biddulph’s “Tribes of the Hindoo Koosh,” page 148.)

General Cunningham asserts that the King of Chitrál takes the title of

Shah Kator, which has been held for nearly 2,000 years, and the story of

their descent from Alexander may be traced to the fact that they were the

successors of the Indo-Grecian Kings in the Kabul valley. If Katór is a

corruption of Kaisar, then let it not be said that the remnant of the

Katore exclaimed with the Roman gladiator: “Ave, Kaisar-i-Hind, morituri

te salutant.”

Amán-ul-Mulk, the late ruler of Chitrál, was, indeed, a terrible man,

who to extraordinary courage joined the arts of the diplomatist. He

succeeded his elder brother, surnamed Adam-Khôr or “man-eater.” His

younger brother, Mir Afzul, is said to have been killed by him or to

have committed a convenient suicide; another brother, Sher Afzul, who is

now in possession of Chitrál, was long a fugitive in Badakhshan whence

he has just returned with a few Afghans (such as any pretender can ever

collect) and a hundred of the Chitráli slaves that used to be given in

tribute to the Mir of Badakhshan, which itself never paid a tribute to

Kabul before the late Sher Ali of Afghanistan installed Mahmud Shah, who

expelled his predecessor Jehandar Shah, the friend of Abdur-Rahman, the

present Amir of Afghanistan. Another brother of Aman-ul-Mulk was Kokhan

Beg, whose daughter married the celebrated Mullah Shahu Baba, a man of

considerable influence in Bajaur, who is feared by the Badshah of Kunar

(a feudatory of Kabul and a friend of the British) and is an enemy of

the Kamôji Kafirs, that infest one of the roads to Chitrál. This Kokhan

Beg, who was a maternal uncle of Afzul-ul-Mulk, was killed the other

day by his brother Sher Afzul coming from Badakhshan. I mention all

this, as in the troubles that are preparing, the ramifications of the

interests of the various pretenders are a matter of importance. Other

brothers of Aman-ul-Mulk are: Muhammad Ali (Moriki), Yádgar Beg, Shádman

Beg and Bahádur Khán (all by a mother of lower degree), and another

Bahádur Khán, who was on the Council of Nizám-ul-Mulk. Nizám-ul-Mulk has

therefore to contend with one or more of his uncles, and by to-day’s

telegram[112] is on his way to the Chitrál Fort in order to expel Sher

Afzul with the aid of the very troops that Sher Afzul had sent to turn

out Afzul-ul-Mulk’s Governor from Yasin. I believe that Nizám-ul-Mulk

has or had two elder half-brothers, Gholam of Oyôn and Majid Dastagir of

Drôshp; but, in any case, he was the eldest legitimate son and, according

to Chitrál custom, was invested with the title of Badshah of Turikoh,

the rule of which valley compelled his absence from Chitrál and not “his

wicked and intriguing disposition” as alleged by certain Anglo-Indian

journals. Of other brothers of Nizám-ul-Mulk was Shah Mulk (of lower

birth), who was Governor of Daraung and was killed by Afzul-ul-Mulk. He

used to live at Dros (near Pathan in Shashi). Afzul-ul-Mulk of Drasun,

whom we have already mentioned as a wholesale fratricide, was killed in

his flight to one of the towers of the Chitrál Fort from the invading

force of his uncle, Sher Afzul of Badakhshan. A younger half-brother is

also Behram-ul-Mulk (by a lower mother), called “Viláyeti,” of Moroi in

Andarti. Other brothers are: Amin-ul-Mulk, a brother of good birth of

Oyôn (Shoghôt), who was reared by a woman of the Zondré or highest class;

Wazir-ul-Mulk (of low birth) of Brôz; Abdur-Rahman (low-born) at Owir

(Barpèsh), and Badshah-i-Mulk, also of Owir, who was reared by the wife

of Fath-Ali Shah. There are no doubt other brothers also whose names I do

not know. Murid, who was killed by Sher Afzul, is also an illegitimate

brother.

A few words regarding the places mentioned in recent telegrams may

be interesting: Shogôth is the name of a village, of a fort, and of

a district which is the north-western part of Chitrál, and it also

comprises the Ludkho and tributary valleys. Through the district is

the road leading to the Dara and Nuqsán passes, to the right and left

respectively, at the bottom of which is a lake on which official toadyism

has inflicted the name of Dufferin in supersession of the local name.

Darushp (Drôshp) is another big village in this district and in the

Ludkho valley, and Andarti is a Fort in it within a mile of the Kafir

frontier. The inhabitants of Shogôth are descendants of Munjanis, whose

dialect (Yidgah) I refer to elsewhere, and chiefly profess to be Shiahs,

in consequence of which they have been largely exported as slaves by

their Sunni rulers. Baidam Khan, a natural son of Aman-ul-Mulk, was the

ruler of it. The Ludkho valley is traversed by the Arkari river which

falls into that of Chitrál. At the head of the Arkari valley are three

passes over the Hindukhush, including the evil-omened “Nuqsán,” which

leads to Zeibak, the home of the heretical Maulais (co-religionists

of the Assassins of the Crusades) in Badakhshán. It is shorter, more

direct, and freer from Kafir raids than the longer and easier Dora pass.

_Owir_ is a village of 100 houses on the Arkari river, and is about 36

miles from Zeibak. _Drasan_ is both the name of a large village and of

a fort which commands the Turikoh valley, a subdivision of the Drasan

District, which is the seat of the heir-apparent to the Chitrál throne

(Nizám-ul-Mulk). Yet the _Pioneer_, in its issue of the 5th October last,

considers that Lord Lansdowne had settled the question of succession

in favour of Afzul-ul-Mulk, that Nizám-ul-Mulk would thus be driven to

seek Russian aid, but that any such aid would be an infringement of

the rights of Abdur-Rahman. Now that Abdur-Rahman is suspected, on the

flimsiest possible evidence, to have connived at Sher Afzul’s invasion

of Chitrál, we seek to pick a quarrel with him for what a few weeks

ago was considered an assertion of his rights. Let it be repeated once

for always that if ever Abdur-Rahman or Nizám-ul-Mulk, or the Chief of

Hunza or Kashmir or Upper India fall into the arms of Russia, it will

be _maxima nostra culpa_. I know the Amir Abdur-Rahman, as I knew the

Amir Sher Ali, as I know Nizám-ul-Mulk, and of all I can assert that

no truer friends to England existed in Asia than these Chiefs. Should

Abdur-Rahman be alienated, as Sher Ali was, or Nizám-ul-Mulk might

be, it will be entirely in consequence of our meddlesomeness and our

provocations. Russia has merely to start a will-o’-the-wisp conversation

between Grombcheffsky and the Chief of Hunza, when there is internal

evidence that Grombcheffsky was never in Hunza at all, and certainly

never went there by the Muztagh Pass, that we, ignoring the right of

China and of the treaty with Kashmir in 1846, forgetful of the danger

in our rear and the undesirability of paving for an invader the road in

front, fasten a quarrel on Hunza-Nagyr, and slaughter its inhabitants.

No abuse or misrepresentation was spared in order to inflame the British

public even against friendly and inoffensive Nagyr. What wonder that a

Deputation was sent from Hunza to seek Russian aid and that it returned

contented with presents, and public expressions of sympathy which

explained away the Russian official refusal as softened by private

assurances of friendship? Whatever may be the disaster to civilization in

the ascendancy of Russian rule, the personal behaviour of Russian agents

in Central Asia is, generally, pleasant. As in Hunza, so in Afghanistan,

some strange suspicion of the disloyalty of its Chief, suggested by

Russia, may involve us in a senseless war and inordinate expense, with

the eventual result that Afghanistan must be divided between England and

Russia, and their frontiers in Asia become conterminous. Then will it

be impossible for England ever to oppose Russia in Europe, because fear

of complications in Asia will paralyze her. Then the tenure of India

will depend on concessions, for which that country is not yet ripe, or

on a reign of terror, either course ending in the withdrawal of British

administration from, at any rate, Northern India. Yet it is “_Fas ab

hosti doceri_,” and when Prince Gortschakoff urged the establishment of a

neutral zone with autonomous states, including Badakhshan, he advocated

a policy that would have conducted to centuries of peace and to the

preservation of various ancient forms of indigenous Oriental civilization

by interposing the mysterious blanks of the Pamirs and the inaccessible

countries of the Hindukush between Russian and British aggression.

* * * * *

Instead of this consummation so devoutly to be wished, and possible even

now, though late, if action be taken under good advice and in the fulness

of knowledge, either Power—

“Thus with his stealthy pace

With Tarquin’s ravishing strides, towards his design

Moves like a ghost.”

If ever the pot called the kettle black, it is the story of Anglo-Russian

recriminations. Russian intrigues are ever met by British manœuvres and

Muscovite earth-hunger can only be paralleled by English annexations.

_Here_ a tribe is instigated to revolt, so that its extermination

may “rectify a boundary,” _there_ an illusory scientific frontier is

gradually created by encroachments on the territories of feudatories

accused of disloyalty, if not of attempts to poison our agents. By

setting son against father, brother against brother and, in the general

tumult, destroying intervening republics and monarchies, Anglo-Russian

dominions are becoming conterminous. Above all

“There’s not a one of them but in his house

I keep a servant fee’d.”

And it is this unremitting suspicion which is alike the secret of present

success and the cause of eventual failure in wresting and keeping

Asiatic countries and of the undying hatred which injured natives feel

towards Europeans.

The attempt to obtain the surrender of the Takk fort, and of the Takk

valley, a short and easy road to the British District of Kaghán, has

merely indicated to Russia the nearest way to India, just as we forced

her attention to Hunza and are now drawing it to Chitrál. David Urquhart

used to accuse us of conspiracy with Russia in foreign politics. Lord

Dufferin in his Belfast speech sought the safety of India in his

friendship with M. de Giers and his Secretary popularized Russia in India

by getting his work on “Russia” translated into Urdu. Certainly the

coincidence of Russian as well as British officials being benefited by

their respective encroachments, Commissions, Delimitations, etc., would

show their “mutual interest” to consist in keeping up the farce of “Cox

and Box” in Central Asia, which must end in a tragedy.

As an official since 1855, when I served Her Majesty during the Russian

War, I wish to warn the British public against the will-o’-the-wisp of

our foreign policy, especially in India. I can conceive that a small,

moral and happy people should seek the ascendancy of its principles, even

if accompanied by confusion in the camps of its enemies. I can understand

that the doctrines of Free Trade, of a free Press, a Parliamentary rule,

the Anti-Slavery propaganda and philanthropic enterprises generally,

with which the British name is connected, should have been as good as

an army to us in every country of the world in which they created a

Liberal party, but these doctrines have often weakened foreign Executive

Governments, whilst “Free Trade” ruined their native manufacture. What

I, however, cannot understand is that a swarming, starving and unhappy

population should seek consolation for misery at home in Quixotism

abroad, especially when that Quixotism is played out. If bread costs as

much now as in 1832 although the price of wheat has fallen from 60s. to

27s. a quarter, it is, indeed, high time that we should lavish no more

blood and treasure on the stones of foreign politics, but that we should

first extract the beam from our own eye before we try to take out the

mote from the eye of others.

What these foreign politics are worth may be inferred from the growing

distrust on the Continent of British meddlesomeness or from what we

should ourselves feel if even so kindred a race as the Prussians sought

to monopolize British wealth and positions. It would be worse, if they

did so without possessing a thorough knowledge of the English language

or of British institutions. Yet we are not filled with misgivings when

our Indian Viceroys or Secretaries of State cannot speak Hindustani, the

_lingua franca_ of India or when an Under-Secretary has a difficulty in

finding Calcutta on the Map.

India should be governed in the fulness of knowledge and sympathy, not by

short cuts. It should not be the preserve of a Class, but the _one_ proud

boast of its many and varied peoples. When Her Majesty assumed Her Indian

title, it was by a mere accident, in which _pars magna fui_, at the last

moment, that the Proclamation was translated to those whom it concerned

at the Imperial Assemblage. This superciliousness, wherever we can safely

show it, the cynical abandonment of our friends, the breach of pledges,

the constant experimentalizing on the natives, the mysteriousness that

conceals official ignorance, is the enemy to British rule in India, not

Russia. A powerful Empire can afford to discard the arts of the weak,

and _should_ even “show its hand.” India should be ruled by a permanent

Viceroy, a member of the Royal family, not by one whom the exigencies

of party can appoint and shift. When in 1869 the Chiefs and people of

the Panjab deputed me to submit their petition that H.R.H. the Prince of

Wales be pleased to visit India, it was because they felt that it was

desirable in the interests of loyalty to the Throne. If it be true that

H.R.H. the Duke of Connaught is going out as the next Viceroy, I can only

say that the longer his admirers miss him in England, the better for

India, which requires its best interests to be grouped round a permanent

Chief.

* * * * *

_Dec. 7th._—As for the wanton aggression on Chilás which never gave us

the least trouble, as all our Deputy Commissioners of Abbottabad can

testify, it is a sequel of our interference last year with Hunza-Nagyr.

The Gilgit Residency has disturbed a peace that has existed since 1856

and now continues in its suicidal policy of indicating and paving the

nearest military road to British territory to an invader. In November

1891 I wrote of the possibility of driving even the peaceful, if

puritanical, Chilásis into aggression and now the _Times_ telegraphs the

cock-and-bull story of the raft, enlarged in to-day’s _Times_ telegram

into an attack of the Chilási tribesmen aided by those of Darêl (another

newly-created foe) on our convoy proceeding from Bunji—the extreme

frontier of Kashmir according to the treaty of 1846—to Dr. Robertson’s

Camp at (now) Talpenn (spelt “Thalpin” in the telegram) and (then) Gôr,

with, of course, the inevitable result of the victory of the heroism of

rifles against a few old muskets and iron wrist-bands (which the Chilásis

use in fighting).

There are still other realms to conquer for our heroes. There is the

small Republic of Talitsha of 11 houses; there is Chilás itself which

admits women to the tribal Councils and is thus in advance even of the

India Office and of the Supreme Council of the Government of India; there

is the Republic of Muhammadan learning, Kandiá, that has not a single

fort; there is, of course, pastoral Dareyl; there are the Koli-Palus

tribes, agricultural Tangîr and other little Republics. Soon may we

hear of acts of “treachery,” “disloyalty,” etc. from Hôdur and Sazîn,

till we shoot down the supposed offenders with Gatlings and destroy the

survivors with our civilization. I humbly protest against these tribes

being sacrificed to a mistaken Russophobia. I have some claim to be

heard. I discovered and named Dardistan and am a friend of its peoples.

Although my life was attempted more than once by agents of the Maharaja

of Kashmir, I was the means of saving that of his Commander-in-Chief,

Zoraweru, when on his Dareyl expedition. This is what the Gilgit Doctor

did in 1866 and what the Gilgit Doctor should do in 1892. This is how

friendship for the British name was, and should be, cemented, and not by

shedding innocent blood or by acts worthy of _agents provocateurs_.

* * * * *

As for the “_toujours perdrix_” of the Afghan advance from Asmar

(_Times_, December 8th) it is better than the telegram in the _Standard_

of the 2nd December 1892, in which the Amir makes Sher Afzul Ruler of

Kafiristan, a country that has yet to be conquered, and which says

“Consequently there is now no buffer-state between Afghanistan and

the Pamirs”!! “Goods carried from India to Russian Turkestan, through

Chitral and _Kafiristan_, will pay _duty to the Amir_.” Such journalistic

forecasts and geography are inevitable when full and faithful official

information, such as it is, is, in a free country, not obtainable by

Parliament, the Press, and the Public. Reuter’s Central Asian Telegrams,

though meagre, are more correct than those of certain correspondents of

the _Times_ and _Standard_.

* * * * *

_Dec. 9th._—Dr. Robertson has, at last, entered Chilás, and found

it deserted. _Solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant._ The _Times_

Correspondent now admits that Chilás has no connexion with Chitrál, but

he still gives us “Tangail” for “Tangir,” and omits the name of the

member of the ex-royal family of Yasin, who is supposed to have stirred

up against us the tribes of Darel and “Tangail,” among whom he has

resided for years. This is one of the Khushwaqtias, though not the loyal

chief to whom I have referred, and who has rendered us good service.

So we have now an excuse for entering Tangir also. In the meanwhile,

the Russian _Svet_ points out that the Russians “would only have to

march some 250 miles along a good road to enter Cashmere,” “since it is

impossible to invade India viâ Afghanistan.” Yet are we nibbling at the

Amir Abdurrahman, whose troops merely occupy the _status quo ante_ at

Asmar, confronted by Umra Khan on the other side of the Kuner river.

We are forgetting the lessons of the Afghan campaigns, and especially

that, although Abdurrahman allowed himself to be proclaimed by us, in

his absence, as Amir, he marched in at one side of Kabul, whilst we

marched out at the other. We forget that, with the whole country against

us in a revived Jehád, with the discontent among our native troops and

with a crushing expenditure, we preferred a political fiasco in order

to avoid a still greater military fiasco. The Russians also urge “the

construction of a military road on their side from Marghelan across the

Pamirs” leaving us to finish it for them on our side of the Hindukush.

The pretension to Wakhan, however, is already disposed of in Prince

Gortchakoff’s Convention with Lord Granville in 1872, and no notice

need be taken of the preposterous claim of the _Svet_ to place Chitrál

under a Russian protectorate! Thus have we sown the wind and reaped the

whirlwind. Our real defence of India lies, as Lord Lawrence ever held,

in its good government, and to this I would respectfully add, in justice

to its Chiefs, wherever they have a legitimate grievance. Mere speeches

of Viceroys, unaccompanied by acts, will not convince them of our “good

intentions.” It is also not by emasculating the Dard tribes and breaking

down their powers of resistance to the level of Slaves to the British,

that we can interpose an effectual barrier to the invading Myriads of

Slavs that threaten the world’s freedom. By giving to the loyalty of

India the liberty which it deserves, on the indigenous bases that it

alone really understands and in accordance with the requirements of the

age, we can alone lead our still martial Indian Millions in the defence

of the Roman Citizenship which should be the reward of their chivalrous

allegiance to the Queen.

G. W. LEITNER.

_P.S._—15 Dec. 1892. The just cause of Nizám-ul-Mulk appears to have

triumphed. Sher Afzul is said to have fled. So far Chitrál. As for

Chilás, the people have come to Dr. Robertson’s Camp and express

friendliness.

* * * * *

LETTERS FROM MIHTAR NIZAM-UL-MULK TO DR. LEITNER:

My kind and true friend and dear companion, may you know:

That before this, prompted by excess of friendship and belief

in me, you had written to me a letter of sincerity full of

pleasing precepts and words of faithfulness. These were

received and caused joy to my heart. My true friend, whatever

words of faith and sincere regard there were, these have

been written in my mind. For I am one of your disciples and

well-wishers here, and have no other care but that of serving

and well-wishing my friends. My heart sorrows at separation

from friends, but there is no remedy except resignation. _As

I consider your stay there [in London] as my own stay, I hope

from your friendship that you have expressed words of my

well-being and my sincerity towards the Lord Bahadoor and the

Great Queen and thus performed the office of friendship and

caused joy there._ Another request is that if you have found a

good dog like “Zulu,” when you come to Delhi please send it to

Jummoo. My men are there, and shall bring it to me. Further,

the volume of papers on the customs of Chitrár and the old

folk-tales have been written partly in Persian and partly in

the Chitrári language. We are frontier and village people, and

are deficient in intelligence and eloquence. They have not

been very well done, and I don’t know if they will please you

or not. But we have no better eloquence or practice as we are

hillmen.

Tuesday 11th Shavval 1304 despatched from Turikoh to London.

* * * * *

The standard of affection and friendship, the foundation-stone

of kindness and obligation, my friend, may his kindness

increase!

After expressing the desire of your joy-giving meeting be it

known to your kind self, that the condition of _this_ your

faithful friend is such as to call for thanks to the Almighty.

The safety and good health of _that_ friend [yourself] is

always wished for. As you had sent me several volumes of bound

papers to write on them the customs of the Chitrar people and

their folk-tales, partly in Persian and partly in Chitrari

language, I have in accordance with this request of _that_

true friend got them written partly in Persian and partly in

Chitrari and sent to you. Inshallah, they will reach you, but

I do not know whether they will please you or not; in any case

you know, that whatever may be possible to do by a faithful

friend or by his employés I will do, with the help of God,

if you will forgive any faulty execution of your wishes, and

continue to remember me for any services in my power, and keep

me informed continually of your good health so as to dispel

my anxiety. The condition here is of all news the best, as

no new event has happened; but three persons, wayfarers and

travellers, have come from Wakhan to Mastuch and two of these

persons I have sent on to Chitrar, and one of these wanderers

has remained (behind) at Mastuch. They don’t know anybody.

Sometimes they say we are Russians, and sometimes they say we

are Frenchmen. And I with my own eye have not seen them. If I

had seen them, they might have told me. Another desire is that

you send me something worth reading in English words and write

opposite to them their translation into Persian, so that it may

be a pleasure and useful to me. I have another request to make

which is that you may be pleased to give an early fulfilment

to your kind promise of visiting Chitrar with your lady for

the purpose of sight-seeing and sport and study. I have been

waiting ever since for your arrival. It is really only right

that you should come now when the weather is very delightful,

game is abundant, and I have made every arrangement for our

hunting together. Everything is tranquil and you will be able

to return before the winter, greatly pleased. Let this become

a fact. The writer Sirdar Nizam-ul-Mulk, Tuesday the 11th of

Shevvál, from Turikoh to London. May it be received!

APPENDIX III.

FABLES, LEGENDS, AND SONGS OF CHITRAL[113]

(_called Chitrár by the natives_).

Collected by H. H. SIRDAR NIZÁM-UL-MULK, Raja of Yasin, etc., and by Dr.

G. W. LEITNER, and translated from Persian or Chitráli.

I. FABLES.

1. THE VINDICTIVE FOWL.

A fowl sat near a thistle, and opened a rag, in which corals were tied

up. Suddenly one fell into the thistle; the fowl said, “O thistle, give

me my coral.” The thistle said, “This is not my business.” The fowl

said, “Then I will burn thee.” The thistle agreed. The fowl then begged

the fire to burn the thistle. The fire replied, “Why should I burn this

weak thorn?” The fowl thereupon threatened to extinguish the fire by

appealing to water: “O water, kill this fire for my sake.” The water

asked, “What is thy enmity with the fire, that I should kill it?” The

fowl said, “I will bring a lean cow to drink thee up.” The water said,

“Well”; but the cow refused, as it was too lean and weak to do so. Then

the fowl threatened to bring the wolf to eat the cow. The wolf refused,

as he could feed better on fat sheep. The fowl threatened the wolf with

the huntsman, as he would not eat the lean cow. The huntsman refused to

shoot the wolf, as it was not fit to eat. The fowl then threatened the

huntsman with the mouse. The huntsman replied, “Most welcome.” But the

mouse said that it was feeding on almonds and other nice things, and had

no need to gnaw the leather-skin of the huntsman. The fowl then said, “I

will tell the cat to eat thee.” The mouse said, “The cat is my enemy in

any case, and will try to catch and eat me, wherever it comes across me,

so what is the use of your telling the cat?” The fowl then begged the cat

to eat the mouse. The cat agreed to do so whenever it was hungry: “Now,”

it added, “I do not care to do so.” The fowl then became very angry, and

threatened to bring little boys to worry the cat. The cat said, “Yes.”

The fowl then begged the little boys to snatch the cat one from the

other, so that it might know what it was to be vexed. The boys, however,

just then wanted to play and fight among themselves, and did not care to

interrupt their own game. The fowl then threatened to get an old man to

beat the boys. The boys said, “By all means.” But the old man refused to

beat the boys without any cause, and called the fowl a fool. The fowl

then said to the Pîr (old man), “I will tell the wind to carry away thy

wool.” The old man acquiesced; and the wind, when ordered by the fowl,

with its usual perverseness, obeyed the fowl, and carried off the old

man’s wool. Then the old man beat the boys, and the boys worried the cat,

and the cat ran after the mouse, and the mouse bit the huntsman in the

waist, and the huntsman went after the wolf, and the wolf bit the cow,

and the cow drank the water, and the water came down on the fire, and the

fire burnt the thistle, and the thistle gave the coral to the fowl, and

the fowl took back its coral.

2. THE STORY OF THE GOLDEN MOUSE WHO TELLS THE STORY OF A MOUSE AND A

FROG.

There was a kind of mice that had a golden body. They never went out

of their hole. One day one of them thought: “I will go out and see the

wonders of God’s creation.” So it did; and when thirty or forty yards

from its hole, a cat, prowling for game, saw it come out from the hole.

The cat, that was full of wiles, plotted to get near the hole, awaiting

the return of the mouse, who, after its peregrinations, noticed the mouth

of the hole closed by the wicked cat. The mouse then wished to go another

way, and turned to the left, towards a tree, on which sat concealed a

crow, expecting to devour the mouse when it should run away from the

cat. The crow then pounced on the mouse, who cried out to God, “O God,

why have these misfortunes overtaken such a small being as myself? My

only help is in thee, to save me from these calamities.” The mouse was

confused, and ran hither and thither, in vain seeking a refuge, when it

saw another cat stealthily approaching it; and, in its perplexity, the

mouse nearly ran into the cat’s paws; but that cat had been caught in

a hunter’s net, and could do nothing. The crow, and the cat which was

watching at the hole, saw that the mouse had got near another cat between

the two. They thought that the mouse had fallen a victim to the second

cat, and that it was no use remaining. It was the fortune of the mouse

that they should be so deceived. The trembling mouse saw that the two

enemies had gone. It thanked the Creator for having escaped from the cat

and the crow, and it said, “It would be most unmanly of me not to deliver

the cat in the net, as it has been the instrument of my safety; but then,

if I set it free, it will eat me.” The mouse was immersed in thought,

and came to the conclusion to gnaw the net at a distance from the cat,

and that as soon as the hunter should come in sight, the cat then, being

afraid of the hunter, would seek its own safety, and not trouble itself

about the mouse. “Thus I will free the cat from the hunter and the net,

and deliver my own life from the cat,” was the thought of the mouse.

It then began to gnaw the net at a distance. The cat then said to the

mouse, “If you want to save me, for God’s sake, then gnaw the net round

my throat, and not at a distance; that is no use to me when the hunter

will come. You err if you think that I will eat you as soon as I get out.

For all the faults, hitherto, have been on the side of cats, which you

mice have never injured, so that, if you are magnanimous and release me,

there is no such ungrateful monster in the world as would return evil for

the unmerited good that I implore you to bestow on me.” The golden mouse,

which was very wise, did not attend to this false speech, but continued

to gnaw the net at a distance, so that, when the hunter came, there

only remained the threads round the neck of the cat, which the mouse

bit asunder at the last moment and then ran back into its hole. The cat

bolted up the tree where the crow had sat, the huntsman saw that the cat

had escaped, and that his net was gnawed in several places, so he took

the net to get it repaired in the Bazaar.

Then the cat descended from the tree and said to herself, “The time of

meals is over, it is no use to go home; I had better make friends with

the mouse, entice it out of the hole, and eat it.” This she did, and

going to the hole, called out: “O faithful companion and sympathizing

friend, although there has been enmity between cats and mice for a long

time, thou hast, by God’s order, been the cause of my release, therefore

come out of the hole, and let us lay the foundation of our friendship.”

The mouse replied: “I once tried to come out, and then I fell from one

danger into another. Now it is difficult for me to comply with your

request. I have cut the threads encircling your throat, not out of

friendship for you, but out of gratitude to God. Nor is our friendship of

any use in this world, as you will gather from the story of

3. “THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.”

The mouse then narrated: “There was once a mouse that went out for a

promenade, and going into people’s houses, found food here and there, and

in the dawn of the next morning it was returning to its home. It came to

a place where there was a large tank, round which there were flowers and

trees; and a voice was heard from out of the tank. Coming near, it saw

that it emanated from a being that had no hair on its body, no tail, and

no ear. The mouse said to itself: ‘What is this ill-formed being?’ and

thanked God that it was not the ugliest of creatures. With this thought

the mouse, that was standing still, shook its head to and fro. The frog,

however, thought that the mouse was smitten with astonishment at his

beauty and entranced with pleasure at his voice, and jumping out of the

corner of the tank came near: ‘I know, beloved, that you are standing

charmed with my voice; we ought to lay the firm basis of our friendship,

but you are sharper than I am, therefore go to the house of an old woman

and steal from it a thread, and bring it here.’ The mouse obeyed the

order. The frog then said: ‘Now tie one end to your tail and I will tie

the other end to my leg, because I want to go to your house, where you

have a large family and there are many other mice, so that I may know you

from the others. If again you visit me, the tank is large, my friends

many, and you too ought to distinguish me from the rest. Again, when

I want to see you I will follow the thread to your hole, and when you

want to see me you will follow it to the tank.’ This being settled, they

parted. One day the frog wanted to see the mouse. Coming out of the tank

he was going to its hole, when he saw the mouse-hawk, who pounced upon

the frog as he was limping along, and flew up with him in its claws. This

pulled the end to which the mouse was tied. It thought that its lover

had come to the place and wanted to see it; so it came out, only to be

dragged along in the air under the mouse-hawk. As the unfortunate mouse

passed a Bazaar it called out: ‘O ye Mussulmans, learn from my fate what

happens to whoever befriends beings of a different species.’

“Now,” said the golden mouse to the cat, “this is the story which teaches

me what to do; and that is, to decline your friendship and to try never

again to see your face.”

4. THE QUAIL AND THE FOX.

The Quail said: I teach thee art.

Night and day I work at art;

Whoever lies, the shame is on his neck.

A quail and a fox were friends. The fox said: “Why should you not make

me laugh some day?” The quail replied, “This is easy.” So they went to

a Bazaar, where the quail, looking through the hole in the wall of a

house, saw a man sitting, and his wife turning up and down the “samanak”

sweetmeat with a big wooden ladle (much in the same way as the Turkish

_rakat lokum_, or lumps of delight, are made). The quail then settled on

the head of the man. The woman said to him, “Don’t stir; I will catch

it.” Then the quail sat on the woman’s head, so the man asked the woman

to be quiet, as he would catch the quail, which, however, then flew back

to the head of the man. This annoyed the wife, who struck at the quail

with the wooden ladle, but hit instead the face of her husband, whose eye

and beard were covered with the sweetmeat, and who thereupon beat his

wife. When the fox saw this, he rejoiced and laughed greatly; and both

the fox and quail returned to their home. After a time the fox said to

the quail: “It is true that you have made me laugh, but could you feed

me?” This the quail undertook to do, and with the fox went to a place

where a woman was carrying a plate of loaves of bread to her husband in

the fields. Then the quail repeated her tactics, and sat on the head of

the woman, who tried to catch it with one hand. The quail escaped and

settled on one shoulder, then on another, and so on till the woman became

enraged, put the plate of bread on the ground, and ran after the quail,

who, by little leaps, attracted her further and further away till she was

at a considerable distance from it, when the fox pounced on the bread and

appeased his hunger.

Some time after, the fox wanted to put the cleverness of the quail again

to the test, and said: “You have made me laugh, you have fed me, now make

me weep.” The quail replied, “Why, this is the easiest task of all,” so

she took the fox to the gate of the town and called out: “O ye dogs of

the Bazaar, come ye as many as ye are, for a fox has come to the gate!”

So all the dogs, hearing this good news, assembled to hunt the fox,

which, seeing the multitude of its enemies, fled till he reached a high

place. Turning round, he saw the dogs following, so he jumped down and

broke his back. The fox therefore helplessly sat down and said to the

approaching quail: “O sympathizing companion, see how my mouth has become

filled with mud and blood, and how my back has been broken. This is my

fate in this world; now, could you kindly clean my mouth from mud and

blood, as my end is near?” The intention of the fox was, that he should

take the opportunity of this artifice to swallow the quail in revenge of

her being the cause of its death. The quail, in her unwise friendship,

began to clean the fox’s mouth. The accursed fox caught her in his mouth;

but the quail, which was intelligent and clever, said, “O beloved friend,

your eating me is lawful, because I forgive you my blood, on condition

that you pronounce my name, otherwise you will suffer an injury.” The

base fox, although full of wiles, clouded by approaching death, fell into

the trap, and as soon as he said “O quail,” his teeth separated, and the

quail flew away from him and was safe, whilst the fox died.

II. STORIES AND LEGENDS.

There is a story which seems to illustrate the fact that private hatred

is often the cause of the injury that is ascribed to accident. A man

slaughtered a goat, and kept it over-night in an outhouse. His enemy put

a number of cats through the airhole, and when their noise awoke the

master of the house he only found the bones of his goat. But he took

their bones, and scattered them over the field of his enemy the same

night; and the dogs came, smelling the bones, searched for them, and

destroyed the wheat that was ripe for reaping. One blamed the cats, the

other blamed the dogs; but both had the reward of their own actions.

* * * * *

Sulei was a man well known on the frontier of Chitrál for his eloquence.

One day, as he was travelling, he met a man from Badakhshan, who asked

him whether he knew Persian. Sulei said, “No.” “Then,” replied the

Badakhshi, “you are lost” [nobody, worthless]. Sulei at once rejoined,

“Do you know Khowár?” (the language of Chitrál). “No,” said the

Badakhshi. “Then you too are lost,” wittily concluded Sulei (to show that

personal worth or eloquence does not depend on knowing any particular

language).

* * * * *

It is related that beyond Upper Chitrár there is a country called _Shin_

or Rashan. It is very beautiful, and its plains are gardens, and its

trees bear much fruit, and its chunars (plane trees) and willows make it

a shaded land. Its earth is red, and its water is white and tasty. They

say that in ancient times the river of that district for a time flowed

with milk without the dashing (of the waves) of water.

* * * * *

Besir is a place near Ayin towards Kafiristan. The inhabitants were

formerly savage Kafirs, but are now subjects of the Mehter (Prince) of

Chitrár. They carry loads of wood, and do not neglect the work of the

Mehter. They are numerous and peaceful, and in helplessness like fowls,

but they are still Kafirs; though in consequence of their want of energy

and courage they are called “Kalàsh.” The people of Ayin say that in

ancient times five savages fled into the Shidi Mount and concealed

themselves there.

* * * * *

Shidi is below Ayin opposite Gherát on the east (whence Shidi is on the

west). Between them is a river. It is said that these savages had to get

their food by the chase. One day word came to them from God that “to-day

three troops of deer will pass; don’t interfere with the first, but do

so with the others.” When, however, the troops came, the savages forgot

the injunctions of God, and struck the first deer. Now there was a cavern

in the mountain where they lived, into which they took the two or three

deer that they had killed and were preparing to cook, two being sent out

to fetch water. By God’s order the lips of the cavern were closed, and

the three men imprisoned in it. God converted the three into bees, whilst

the two who had gone to fetch water fled towards Afghanistan. Thus were

created the first honey-bees, who, finding their way out of the cavern,

spread themselves and their sweet gift all over the world. This is a

story told by the Kalàsh, who credit that the bees are there still; but

it is difficult to get there, as the mountains are too steep, but people

go near it and, pushing long rods into the hole of the cavern, bring them

back covered with honey.

* * * * *

Shah Muhterim is the name of a Mehter (prince), the grandfather of the

present Ruler of Chitrár. This Mehter was renowned as a descendant of

fairies, who all were under his command. Whatever he ordered the fairies

did. Thus some time passed. From among them he married a fairy, with

whom he made many excursions. She bore him a daughter. Seven generations

have passed since that time. This daughter is still alive, and her sign

among the fairies is that her hair is white, which does not happen to

ordinary fairies. Whenever a descendant of the Shah Muhterim leaves this

transitory world for the region of permanence, all the fairies, who

reside in the mountains of Chitrár, together with that white-haired lady,

weep and lament, and their voices are clearly heard. This statement is

sure and true, and all the men on the frontiers of Chitrár are aware of

the above fact.

THE PEOPLE OF AUJER (THE BŒOTIA OF CHITRAL).

There is a country “Aujer,” on the frontier of Chitrár (or Chitrāl as

we call it), the inhabitants of which in ancient times were renowned

for their stupidity. One had taken service at Chitrár, and at a certain

public dinner noticed that the King (Padishah) ate nothing. So he

thought that it was because the others had not given anything to the

king. This made him very sorry. He left the assembly, and reached home

towards evening; there he prepared a great amount of bread, and brought

it next day to the council enclosure, beckoning to the king with his

finger to come secretly to him. The king could not make this out, and

sent a servant to inquire what was the matter; but the man would not

say anything except that the king should come himself. On this the king

sent his confidant to find out what all this meant. The man answered the

inquiries of the confidant by declaring that he had no news or claim, but

“as they all ate yesterday and gave nothing to the king, my heart has

become burnt, and I have cooked all this bread for him.” The messenger

returned and told the king, who told the meeting, causing them all to

laugh. The king, too, smiled, and said: “As this poor man has felt for

my need, I feel for his;” and ordered the treasurer to open for him the

door of the treasury, so that he might take from it what he liked. The

treasurer took him to the gate, next to which was the treasurer’s own

house, where he had put a big water-melon, on which fell the eye of that

stupid man from Aujer. He had never seen such a thing, and when he asked,

“What is it?” the treasurer, knowing what a fool he had to deal with,

said, “This is the egg of a donkey.” Then he showed him the gold, silver,

jewels, precious cloths, and clean habiliments of the treasury from

which to select the king’s present. The man was pleased with nothing,

and said, “I do not want this; but, if you please, give me the egg of

the donkey, then I shall indeed be glad.” The treasurer and the king’s

confidant, consulting together, came to the conclusion that this would

amuse the king to hear, and gave him the melon, with the injunction not

to return to the king, but to take the egg to his house, and come after

some nights (days). The fool was charmed with this request, went towards

his home, but climbing a height, the melon fell out of his hand, rolled

down towards a tree and broke in two pieces. Now there was a hare under

that tree, which fled as the melon touched the tree. The fool went to

his house full of grief, said nothing to his wife and children, but

sat mournfully in a corner. The wife said, “O man, why art thou sorry?

and what has happened?” The man replied: “Why do you ask? there is no

necessity.” Finally, on the woman much cajoling him, he said: “From the

treasury of the prince (mehter) I had brought the egg of the donkey; it

fell from me on the road, broke, and the young one fled out from its

midst. I tried my utmost, but could not catch it.” The woman said: “You

silly fellow! had you brought it, we might have put loads on it.” The

man replied, “You flighty thing! how could it do so, when it was still

so young? Why, its back would have been broken.” So he got into a great

rage, took his axe, and cut down his wife, who died on the spot.

* * * * *

Once, a donkey having four feet, in this country of donkeys having two

feet, put his head into a jar of jáo (barley), but could not extricate

it again. So the villagers assembled, but could not hit on a plan to

effect this result. But there was a wise man in that land, and he was

sent for and came. He examined all the circumstances of the case, and

finally decided that they should do him “Bismillah”; that is to say, that

they should cut his throat with the formula, “in the name of God,” which

makes such an act lawful. When they had done this to the poor donkey, the

head remained in the jar, and the wise man ordered them now to break the

jar. This they did, and brought out the head of the donkey. The wise man

then said: “If I had not been here, in what manner could you have been

delivered of this difficulty?” This view was approved by all, even by the

owner of the donkey.

* * * * *

Two brothers in that country of idiots, being tired of buying salt

every day, decided on sowing it over their fields, so that it may bring

forth salt abundantly. The grass grew up, and the grasshoppers came;

and the brothers, fearing that their crop of salt would be destroyed,

armed themselves with bows and arrows to kill the grasshoppers. But the

grasshoppers jumped hither and thither, and were difficult to kill; and

one of the brothers hit the other by mistake with an arrow instead of a

grasshopper, and he got angry, and shot back and killed his brother.

* * * * *

A penknife once fell into the hands of this people, so they held a

council in order to consider what it was. Some thought it was the young

one of a sword, the others that it was the baby of an axe, but that its

teeth had not yet come out. So the argument waxing hot, they fell to

fight one another, and many were wounded and killed.

* * * * *

A number of these people, considering that it was not proper that birds

alone should fly, and that they were able to do so, clad themselves in

posteens (some of which are made from the light down of the Hindukush

eagle), and threw themselves down from a great height, with the result

that they reached the ground killed and mangled.

III. SONGS.

_A Song (of evidently recent date, as the influence on it of Persian

poetry is obvious)._

THE CONFESSION OF THE SOUL.

1. (_He._) If thy body be as lithe as (the letter) Alif (‎‏ا‏‎),

thy eye is as full as (the letter) Nûn (‎‏ن‏‎).

If thou art Laila, this child (or lover) is Majnûn (referring

to the well-known story of these true lovers).

2. (_She._) If thou art the Prince of the Sultan of Rûm (Turkey)

Come and sit by me, free from constraint;

My eye has fallen on thee, and I now live.

3. My friend had scarcely come near me—why, alas, has he left?

My flesh has melted from these broken limbs.

4. How could I guard against the enmity of a friend?

May God now save me from such grief!

5. (_He._) Were I to see 200 Fairies and 100,000 Houris,

I should be a Káfir (infidel), O my beloved!

If my thoughts then even strayed from thee.

6. Yea, not the Houri nightingale, nor my own soul and eyes as

Houris,

Would, on the day of judgment, divert my thought from thee.

7. I envy the moth, for it can fly

Into the fire in which it is burnt (whereas I cannot meet thee).

8. (_She._) My friend, who once came nigh me, suddenly left me—to

weep.

My grief should move the very highest heaven.

A coral bed with its root has been torn out and gone.

9. A ship of pilgrims (Calendárs) has sunk, and yet the world does

not care.

The end of all has been a bad name to me.

10. (_He._) On this black earth how can I do (sing) thy praise?

Imbedded in the blue heaven (of my heart) thou wilt find it;

And yet, O child (himself), how great a failure (and below thy

merits)!

11. Before thy beauty the very moon is nothing,

For sometimes she is full and sometimes half.

May God give thee to me, my perfect universe!

12. (_She._) If an angel were a mortal like myself,

It would be ashamed to see my fate (unmoved).

13. (_He._) O angel! strangely without pity,

Thou hast written her good with my evil (linked our fates).

14. (_Both._) All have friends, but my friend is the Chief (God),

And of my inner grief that friend is cognizant;

His light alone loves our eyes and soul.

15. Break with the world, its vanities, its love;

Leave ignorance, confess, and let thy goal be heaven!

The following is an attempt to render the pretty tune of a more worldly

Laila and Majnûn song, which reminds one of the “Yodeln” of the Tyrolese.

It was sung to me by Taighûn Shah, the poet-minstrel of the Raja, to the

accompaniment of a kind of guitar. The Chitráli language, it will be

perceived, is musical.

[Music: Shin·djùr is-prûo sar ma bul-bul hut bó·wor Tsá·ren-tu ru-pé

dūr thu mor lo - lé gam - - bū - - ro shūnn donn do - sé

Lai - lī - ki ha - rōsh o - ré Majnun o lo - - lé!]

APPENDIX IV.

THE RACES AND LANGUAGES OF THE HINDU-KUSH.

By DR. G. W. LEITNER.

[Illustration: GROUP OF DARDS AND CENTRAL ASIATICS WITH DR. LEITNER.

_Standing_ Nos. 1 2 3 4 5 6 (_see next page_.)

_Sitting_ Nos. 7 8 9 10 11 (_see next page_.)

_Standing_—1. Khundayar, son of a Shiah Akhun (priest) at Nagyr; 2.

Maulvi Najmuddin, a poet from Kolab; 3 and 4. Khudadad and Hatamu,

pilgrims from Nagyr; 5. A Chitrali soldier; 6. Matavalli, of Hunza.

_Sitting_—7. Mir Abdullah, a famous Arabic scholar and jurist from

Gabrial; 8. Hakim Habibullah, a Tajik, a physician from Badakshan; 9.

Ghulam Muhammad, Dr. Leitner’s Gilgit retainer; 10. Ibrahim Khan, a

Shiah, Rono (highest official caste), of Nagyr; 11. Sultan Ali Yashkun,

of Nagyr.]

The accompanying illustration was autotyped some years ago from a

photograph taken in 1881, and is now published for the first time.

Following the numbers on each figure represented we come first to No.

1, the tall Khudayár, the son of an Akhun or Shiah priest of Nagyr, a

country ruled by the old and wise Tham or Raja Zafar Ali Khan, whose

two sons, Alidád Khan in 1866, and Habib ulla Khan in 1886, instructed

me in the Khajuná language, which is spoken alike in gentle but brave

Nagyr and in its hereditary rival country, the impious and savage Hunza

“Hun-land,” represented by figure 6, Matavalli, the ex-kidnapper whom I

took to England, trained to some Muhammadan piety, and sent to Kerbelá a

year ago. No. 2 was an excellent man, an Uzbek visitor from Koláb, one

Najmuddin, a poet and theologian, who gave me an account of his country.

Nos. 3 and 4 are pilgrims from Nagyr to the distant Shiah shrine in Syria

of the martyrdom of Husain at Kerbelá; No. 5 is a Chitráli soldier,

whilst No. 7 is a distinguished Arabic Scholar from Gabriál, from whom

much of my information was derived regarding a peaceful and learned home,

now, alas! threatened by European approach, which my travels in 1866 and

1872, and my sympathetic intercourse with the tribes of the Hindu Kush,

have unfortunately facilitated. The Jalkóti, Dareyli, and others, who are

referred to in the course of the present narrative, will either figure

on other illustrations or must be “taken as read.” No. 8 is the Sunni

Moulvi Habibulla, a Tájik of Bukhara and a Hakîm (physician). No. 9 is my

old retainer, Ghulám Muhammad, a Shiah of Gilgit, a Shîn Dard (highest

caste), who was prevented by me from cutting down his mother, which he

was attempting to do in order “to save her the pain of parting from him.”

10. Ibrahim Khan, a Shiah, Rôno (highest official caste) of _Nagyr_,

pilgrim to Kerbelá. 11. Sultan Ali Yashkun (2nd Shîn caste) Shiah, of

Nagyr, pilgrim to Kerbelá. The word “Yashkun” is, perhaps, connected with

“Yuechi.”

The languages spoken by these men are: Khajuná by the Hunza-Nagyr men;

Arnyiá by the Chitráli; Turki by the Uzbek from Koláb; Shiná by the

Gilgiti; Pakhtu and Shuthun, a dialect of Shiná, by the Gabriáli. The

people of _Hunza_ are dreaded robbers and kidnappers; they, together

with the people of Nagyr, speak a language, Khajuná, which philologists

have not yet been able to classify, but which I believe to be a remnant

of a pre-historic language. They are great wine-drinkers and most

licentious. They are nominally Muláis, a heresy within the Shiah schism

from the orthodox Sunni Muhammadan faith, but they really only worship

their Chief or Raja, commonly called “Thàm.” The present ruler’s name

is Mohammad Khan. They are at constant feud with the people of _Nagyr_,

who have some civilization, and are _now_ devoted Shiahs (whence the

number of pilgrims, four, from one village). They are generally fair, and

taller than the people of Hunza, who are described as dark skeletons.

The Nagyris have fine embroideries, and are said to be accomplished

musicians. Their forts confront those of Hunza on the other side of the

same river. The people of _Badakhshán_ used to deal largely in kidnapped

slaves. A refugee, Shahzada Hasan, from the former royal line (which

claims descent from Alexander the Great), who has been turned out by the

Afghan faction, was then at Gilgit with a number of retainers on fine

Badakhshi horses, awaiting the fortunes of war, or, perhaps, the support

of the British. He was a younger brother of Jehandár Shah, who used to

infest the Koláb road, after being turned out by a relative, Mahmûd Shah,

with the help of the Amir of Kabul. _Koláb_ is about eleven marches from

_Faizabád_, the capital of Badakhshán. The Chitráli is from Shogòt, the

residence of Adam Khor (man-eater), brother of Aman-ul-Mulk, of Chitrál,

who used to sell his Shiah subjects regularly into slavery and to kidnap

Bashgeli Kafirs. The man from _Gabriál_ was attracted to Lahore by the

fame of the Oriental College, Lahore, as were also several others in

this group; and there can be no doubt that this institution may still

serve as a nucleus for sending pioneers of our civilization throughout

Central Asia. Gabriál is a town in Kandiá, or Kiliá, which is a secluded

Dard country, keeping itself aloof from tribal wars. _Gilgit_ and its

representative have been described in my “Dardistan,” to which refer,

published in parts between 1866 and 1877.

I. POLO IN HUNZA-NAGYR.

Although our first practical knowledge of “Polo” was derived from the

Manipuri game as played at Calcutta, it is not Manipur, but Hunza and

Nagyr, that maintain the original rules of the ancient “Chaughán-bazi,”

so famous in Persian history. The account given by J. Moray Brown for the

“Badminton Library” of the introduction of Polo into England (Longmans,

Green & Co., 1891), seems to me to be at variance with the facts within

my knowledge, for it was introduced into England in 1867, not 1869,

by one who had played the Tibetan game as brought to Lahore by me in

1866, after a tour in Middle and Little Tibet. Since then it has become

acclimatized not only in England, but also in Europe. The Tibet game,

however, does not reach the perfection of the Nagyr game, although it

seems to be superior to that of Manipur. Nor is Polo the only game in

Hunza-Nagyr. “Shooting whilst galloping” at a gourd filled with ashes

over a wooden scaffold rivals the wonderful performances of “archery on

horseback,” in which the people of Hunza and Nagyr (not “Nagar,” or the

common Hindi word for “town,” as the telegram has it) are so proficient.

Nor are European accompaniments wanting to these Central Asian games;

for prizes are awarded, people bet freely in Hunza as they do here,

they drink as freely, listen to music, and witness the dancing of lady

charmers, the Dayál, who, in Hunza, are supposed to be sorceresses,

without whom great festivities lose their main attraction. The people

are such keen sportsmen that it is not uncommon for the Tham, or ruler,

to confiscate the house of the unskilful hunter who has allowed a

Markhôr (Ibex) that he might have shot to escape him. Indeed, this even

happens when a number of Markhôrs are shut up in an enclosure, “_tsá_,”

as a preserve for hunting. The following literally translated dialogue

regarding Polo and its rules tells an attentive reader more “between the

lines” than pages of instructions:—

POLÓ = Bolá.—The Raja has ordered many people: To-morrow Polo I

will play. To the musicians give notice they will play.

Hast thou given notice, O (thou)?

Yes, I have given notice, O Nazúr; let me be thy offering

(sacrifice).

Well, we will come out, that otherwise it will become (too) hot.

The Raja has gone out for Polo; go ye, O (ye); the riders will

start.

Now divided will be, O ye! (2) goals nine nine (games) we will

do (play). Tola-half (= 4 Rupees) a big sheep bet we will do.

Now bet we have made. To the Raja the _ball_ give, O ye,

_striking_ (whilst galloping) he will take.

O ye, efforts (search) make, young men, to a man disgrace is

death; you your own _party_ abandon not; The Raja has taken the

_ball to strike_; play up, O ye musicians!

Now descend (from your horses) O ye; Tham has come out

(victorious); now again the day after to-morrow, he (from

fatigue) _recovering Poló_ we will strike (play).

_Rules_:—The musical instruments of Polo; the ground for the

game; the riders; the goals; 9, 9 games let be (nine games

won); the riders nine one side; nine one (the other) side; when

this has become (the case) the drum (Tsagàr) they will strike.

First the Tham takes the ball (out into the Maidan to strike

whilst galloping at full speed).

The Tham’s _side_ upper part will take.

The rest will strike from the lower part (of the ground).

Those above the goal when becoming will take to the lower part.

Those below the goal when becoming to above taking the ball

will send it flying.

Thus being (or becoming) whose goal when becoming, the ball

will be sent flying and the musicians will play.

Whose nine goals when has become, they issue (victorious).

[Illustration: No. 1. Dareyli.

No. 2. Gabriali.

No. 3. Hunza Man.

No. 4. Nagyri.]

II. THE KOHISTÁN OF THE INDUS, INCLUDING GABRIÁL.

ACCOUNT OF MIR ABDULLA.

The real native place of Mir Abdulla is in the territory of Nandiyar; but

his uncle migrated to, and settled in, Gabriál. The Mir narrates:—

“In the country of Kunar there is a place called _Pusht_, where lives a

Mulla who is famous for his learning and sanctity. I lived for a long

time as his pupil, studying Logic, Philosophy, and Muhammadan Law, the

subjects in which the Mulla was particularly proficient. When my absence

from my native place became too long, I received several letters and

messages from my parents, asking me to give up my studies and return

home. At last I acceded to their pressing demands and came to my native

village. There I stayed for a long time with my parents; but as I was

always desirous to pursue my studies, I was meditating on my return to

Pusht, or to go down to India.

In the meantime I met one Abdulquddūs of Kohistan, who was returning

from India. He told me that a Dár-ul-u’lûm (House of Sciences) had been

opened at Lahore, the capital of the Punjab, where every branch of

learning was taught, and that it was superintended by Dr. L., who being

himself a proficient scholar of Arabic and Persian, was a patron of

learning and a warm supporter of students from foreign countries. I was

accompanied by two pupils of mine, named Sher Muhammad and Burhánuddin;

and I started together with them from my native village. We passed

through the territory of _Dir_, which is governed by Nawab Rahmatulla

Khan. The Qazi of that place was an old acquaintance of mine, and he

persuaded me to stop my journey, and promised to introduce me to the

Nawab, and procure for me a lucrative and honourable post. I declined his

offer, and continued my journey. The next territory we entered in was

that of Nawab _Tore Mian Khan_, who reigns over eight or nine hundred

people. After staying there some days we reached _Kanan Gharin_, which

was governed jointly by Nawabs Fazl Ahmad and Bayazid Khan. After two

days’ march we came to _Chakesur_, which was under a petty chief named

Suhe Khan. Here we were told that there are two roads to India from this

place—one, which is the shorter, is infested with robbers; and the other,

the longer one, is safe; but we were too impatient to waste our time, and

decided at once to go by the shorter way, and proceeded on our journey.

We met, as we were told, two robbers on the road, who insisted on our

surrendering to them all our baggage. But we made up our minds to make a

stand, though we were very imperfectly armed, having only one “tamancha”

among three persons. In the conflict which ensued, one of the robbers

fell, and the other escaped; but Burhanuddin, one of our party, was also

severely wounded, and we passed the night on the banks of a neighbouring

stream, and reached next day _Ganagar Sirkol Jatkol_, where we halted

for eight or nine days. In this place the sun is seen only three or four

times a year, when all the dogs of the village, thinking him an intruding

stranger, begin to bark at him. Burhanuddin, having recovered there,

went back to his home, and I, with the other companion, proceeded to the

Punjab, and passing through the territory of a chief, named _Shálkhan_,

entered the British dominions. On arriving at Lahore we were told that

Dr. L. was not there, and my companion, too impatient to wait, went down

to Rampur, and I stayed at Lahore.” He then gave an account of—

THE KOHISTÁN (OR MOUNTAINOUS COUNTRY).

(A DIFFERENT COUNTRY FROM ONE OF THE SAME NAME NEAR KABUL.)

_Boundaries._—It is bounded on the north by _Chitrál_, _Yasin_, and

_Hunza_, on the east by _Chilas_, _Kashmir_, and a part of _Hazara_; on

the south by _Yaghistán_ (or wild country); on the west by _Swat_ and

_Yaghistán_.

It is surrounded by three mountainous ranges running parallel to each

other, dividing the country into two parts (the northern part is called

_Gabriál_). The Indus flows down through the country, and has a very

narrow bed here, which is hemmed in by the mountains.

The northern part, which is called Gabriál, has only two remarkable

villages—_Kandyá_, on the western side of the river, and _Siwa_ on the

eastern; and the southern part contains many towns and villages:—

On the eastern side of the river,—

Name of influential

Town. Malak

(Landowner).

(1) Ladai Machú.

(2) Kolai Shah Said.

(3) Palas (9,000 pop.) Lachur.

(4) Marín Karm Khán.

On the western side of the river,—

Name of influential

Town. Malak

(5) Batera

(6) Patan (8,000 pop.) Qudrat Ali.

(7) Chakarga

(8) Ranotia

That part of _Yaghistán_ which bounds Kohistan on the west is divided

into (1) _Thakot_, which is governed by Shalkhán, and (2) _Dishán_, which

is under Ram Khan; and that part of Yaghistán which bounds it on the

south is divided into three valleys,—

(1) Alahi, governed by Arsalan Khan.

(2) Nandiyar, ” Zafar Khan.

(3) Tikráí, ” Ghaffar Khan (has also two cannons).

Between the southern part of Kohistan and Alahi, in the eastern corner,

there is a plain, of a circular form, surrounded on all sides by

mountains. This plain is always covered with grass, and streams of clear

and fresh water run through it. Both the grass and the water of this vast

meadow are remarkable for their nourishing and digestive qualities. This

plain is called “_Chaur_,” and is debatable ground between the Kohistanis

of Ladai, Kolai, and Palas, and the Afghans of Alahi.

_People._—The people of this country are not allied to the Afghans, as

their language shows, but have the same erect bearing and beautiful

features.

_Language._—Their language is altogether different from that of their

neighbours, the Afghans, as will be shown by the following comparison:—

KOHISTANI. PUSHTO (THE AFGHAN LANGUAGE).

1. To-morrow night to Lahore I 1. To-morrow night to Lahore I

will go. will go.

_Douche rate Lahore bajanwa._ _Saba shapa ba Lahore shazam._

2. Thou silent be. 2. Thou silent be.

_Tohe chut guda._ _Tah chup shai._

3. Prepare, ye young men. 3. Prepared be, O young men.

_Jubti masha._ _Saubhal she zalmú._

There is a song very current in Kohistan which begins,—

_Palas kulal mariga, Patane jirga hotiga, Johle johal madado propár

asáli_ = “In Palas a potter was killed, in Patan the jirga (or tribal

assembly) sat.”

“The corrupted (Jirga of Malaks) took a bribe, and retaliation was

ignored.” The Afghans are called Pathans.

_Religion._—They have been converted to Islám since four or five

generations, and they have forsaken their old religion so completely that

no tinge of it now remains; and when a Kohistani is told that they are

“nau-Muslims,” that is, “new Muhammadans,” he becomes angry.

Muslim learning, and the building of mosques have become common in

Kohistan, and now we find twenty or thirty learned mullas in every

considerable town, besides hundreds of students, studying in mosques.

_Dress._—Their national dress consists of a woollen hat, brimmed like

that of Europeans, and a loose woollen tunic having a long ‎‏ جاكى‏‎

along the right breast, so that one can easily get out the right hand to

wield one’s arms in a fight. Their trousers are also made of wool and are

very tight. In the summer they wear a kind of leathern shoes borrowed

from the Afghans, but in the winter they wear a kind of boots made of

grass (the straw of rice) reaching to the knees. They call it “pájola.”

Till very lately their only arms were a small “khanjar” (dagger), bows

and arrows; but they have borrowed the use of guns and long swords from

the Afghans.

The dress of their women consists of a loose woollen head-dress with

silken fringes, a woollen tunic and blue or black trousers of cotton

cloth, which they call “_shakara_.” Generally their women work with their

husbands in the corn-fields, and do not live confined to their houses.

_Government._—They have no chiefs like the Afghans, but influential

Malaks lead them to battle, who are paid no tribute, salary, etc.

When an enemy enters their country they whistle so sharply that the sound

is heard for miles; then the whole tribe assembles in one place for the

defence of their country, with their respective Malaks at their heads.

_Mode of Living, and other Social Customs._—In winter they live in the

valleys, in houses made of wood and stones; but in summer they leave

their houses in the valleys for those on the peaks of mountains, and the

mass of the population spends the summer in the cooler region; but those

who cultivate the land live the whole day in the valley, and when night

comes go up to their houses on the heights. Their food is the bread of

wheat, and milk furnished by their herds of cattle (gaómesh, cows, goats,

and sheep), which is their sole property. There are no regular Bazárs

even in the large villages; but the arrival of a merchant from India is

generally hailed throughout the country. The woollen cloth which they use

generally is manufactured by them.

_Marriage._—Very lately there was a custom amongst them that the young

man was allowed to court any girl he wished; but now, from their contact

with the Afghans, the system of “betrothal” at a very early age is

introduced, and the boy does not go till his marriage to that part of the

village in which the girl betrothed to him lives. The Kohistanis say that

they have learned three things from the Afghans:—

(1) The use of leathern shoes,

(2) The use of long swords and guns,

(3) The system of betrothal.

III. A ROUGH SKETCH OF KHATLÁN (KOLÁB) AND ADJOINING COUNTRIES.[114]

By MAULVI NAJMUDDIN, a Theologian and Poet from Koláb.

NAMES OF MANZILS (STATIONS) FROM KOLAB TO THE PUNJAB.

‎‏کولاب ‏‎ (1) Kolab.

‎‏صیاد ‏‎ (2) Sayad. Situated on this side of the Amoo, and

belongs to Badakhshan.

‎‏ین قلع‏‎ (3) Yan-Qalá.

‎‏چاھیاب ‏‎ (4) Chahyáb. Governed then (18 years ago) by Sultan

Azdahar, son of Yusuf Ali Khán.

‎‏دشت سبز ‏‎ (5) Dashti-sabz. A halting-place.

‎‏رستاق ‏‎ (6) Rustáq. Governed then by Ismail Khán, son of Yusuf

Ali Khán.

‎‏قزل درہ ‏‎ (7) Kizil Dara.

‎‏ال‌کاشان ‏‎ (8) Elkáshán. The Himalaya begins.

‎‏اتن جلب ‏‎ (9) Átin Jalab. Here the river _Kokcha_[115] is crossed.

‎‏دشت سفید ‏‎ (10) Dasht-e-sufed.

‎‏فیض اباد‏‎ (11) Faízabad. Capital of Badakhshan; governed then by

Jahandár Shah; is situated on the river Kokchá.

‎‏رباط ‏‎ (11) Rubát.

‎‏دشت فراخ‏‎ (12) Dashti Farákh.

‎‏وردوج ‏‎ (13) Wardúj. Contains a mine of sulphur.

(14) } Names are forgotten.

(15) }

‎‏زیباق ‏‎ (16) Zibáq. Peopled by _Shi’as_ (or rather Muláis).

‎‏دہ گول‏‎ (17) Deh Gôl. The frontier village of Badakhshán; only

a kind of inn.

‎‏سنگر ‏‎ (18) Sanghar. A halting-place.

‎‏چترال ‏‎ (19) Chitrál. Governed then by Aman-ul-mulk (as now).

‎‏سرغال ‏‎ (20) Sarghál.

‎‏رباطَك ‏‎ (21) Rubatak.

‎‏دیر ‏‎ (22) Dír. Governed then by Ghazan Khán.

‎‏سوات ‏‎ (23) Swat.

‎‏پشاور ‏‎ (24) Peshawar.

That part of the country lying at the foot of the Hindu Kush mountains,

which is bounded on the north by Kokand and Karatigan, on the east by

Durwaz, on the south by Badakhshan and the Amu, on the west by Sherabad

and Hissar (belonging to Bukhara) is called _Khatlan_ ‎‏ختلان‏‎. KOLÁB,

a considerable town containing a population of about ten thousand, is

situated at the distance of five miles from the northern bank of the

Amu, and is the capital of the province. The other towns of note are

_Muminabad_ ‎‏مؤمن اباد‏‎, Daulatabad ‎‏دولتاباد‏‎, Khawaling ‎‏خوالنگ‏‎,

Baljawan ‎‏بلجوان‏‎, and Sarchashmá ‎‏سرچشمہ‏‎.

The country, being situated at the foot of mountains, and being watered

by numerous streams, is highly fertile. The most important products

are rice, wheat, barley, kharpazá, etc.; and the people generally are

agricultural.

There is a mine of salt in the mountains of ‎‏خواجه مؤمن‏‎ _Khawaja

Mumin_; and the salt produced resembles the Lahori salt, though it is not

so pure and shining, and is very cheap.

Cattle breeding is carried on on a great scale, and the wealth of a

man is estimated by the number of cattle he possesses. There is a kind

of goat in this country which yields a very soft kind of wool (called

Tibit); and the people of Kolah prepare from it hoses and a kind of

turban, called _Shamali_ (from shamal, the northern wind, from which it

gives shelter).

_Religion._—Generally the whole of the population belongs to the Sunni

sect (according to the Hanafi rite).

_Tribes._—The population of the country is divided into _Laqai_,

_Battash_, and _Tajiks_. The Laqais live in movable tents (khargah) like

the Kirghiz, and lead a roving life, and are soldiers and thieves by

profession. The Battashes live in villages, which are generally clusters

of _kappás_ (thatched cottages), and are a peaceful and agricultural

people. The Tajiks live in the towns, and are mostly artisans.

_Language._—Turki is spoken in the villages and a very corrupt form of

Persian in the towns. Most of the words are so twisted and distorted that

a Persian cannot understand the people of the country without effort.

_Government._—The country is really a province of Bukhárá; but a native

of Kolab, descended from the Kapchaqs by the father’s and from the Laqais

by the mother’s side, became independent of Bukhará. After his death,

his four sons, Sayer Khan, Sara Khan, Qamshin Khan, Umra Khan, fought

with one another for the crown; and Sara Khan, having defeated the other

three, came to be the Chief of the province, but was defeated by an army

from Bukhará and escaped to Kabul.

When Najmuddin left his country, it was governed by a servant of the

court of Bukhárá.

The houses are generally built of mud, cut into smooth and symmetrical

walls, and are plastered by a kind of lime called _guch_. Burnt bricks

are very rare, and only the palace of the governor is made partially of

them. The walls are roofed by thatch made of “damish” (reeds), which grow

abundantly on the banks of the Amoo.

The _dress_ consists of long, flowing choghás (stuffed with cotton) and

woollen turbans. The Khatlanis wear a kind of full boot which they call

_chamush_, but lately a kind of shoe is introduced from Russia, and is

called _nughai_.

The country is connected with Yarkand by two roads, one running through

Kokand and the other through the Pamir.

* * * * *

The above and following accounts were in answer to questions by Dr.

Leitner, whose independent researches regarding Kandiá in 1866-72 were

thus corroborated in 1881, and again in 1886, when the photographs which

serve as the basis of our illustrations were taken.

IV. THE LANGUAGE, CUSTOMS, SONGS, AND PROVERBS OF GABRIÁL.

POSITION.—A town in _Kandiá_, a part of Yaghistan (the independent,

or wild, country) situated beyond the river Indus (Hawā-sinn), which

separates it from _Chilás_. The country of _Kandiá_ extends along both

sides of the _Kheri Ghá_, a tributary of the Indus, and is separated from

_Tangir_ by a chain of mountains.

The town of _Gabriál_ is situated three days’ march from _Jalkôt_, in a

north-west direction, and is one day’s march from _Patan_, in a northerly

direction. _Patan_ is the chief city of Southern Kandiá.

INHABITANTS.—The whole tract of Kandiá can send out 20,000 fighting men.

They are divided into the following castes:—

(1) Shîn, the highest, who now pretend to be Quraishes, the Arabs of the

tribe to which the Prophet Muhammad belonged. (Harif Ullá, the Gabriáli,

and Ghulam Mohammad, of Gilgit, _call themselves Quraishes_.)

(2) Yashkun, who now call themselves Mughals, are inferior to the Shîn. A

Yashkun man cannot marry a _Shîn_ woman. Ahmad Shah, the Jalkoti belonged

to this caste.

{ (3) Doeúzgar, carpenters.} In reality these people constitute no

{ (4) Jolá, weavers. } distinct castes, but all belong to a

3 { (5) Akhár, blacksmiths. } third, the Kamìn, caste.

{ (6) Dôm, musicians.

{ (7) Kámìn, lowest class.

The people of _Northern Kandiá_ (Gabriál) are called _Bunzárî_, and of

the southern part (_i.e._, Patan) _Maní_, as the Chilasis are called

_Boté_. A foreigner is called _Raráwi_, and fellow-countryman, _Muqámi_.

RELIGION.—The Gabriális, as well as all the people of _Chilás_, _Patan_,

and _Palas_, are Sunnis, and are very intolerant to the _Shias_, who are

kidnapped and kept in slavery (Ghulam Mohammad, the Gilgiti, has been

for many years a slave in Chilás, as Ahmad Shah reports). The Gabriális

were converted to Muhammadanism by a saint named _Bâbâji_, whose shrine

is in Gabriál, and is one of the most frequented places by pilgrims.

The Gabriális say that this saint lived six or seven generations ago.

Mir Abdulla (who is really of Afghanistan, but now lives in Gabriál,)

says that the Gabriális were converted to Islám about 150 years ago.

Lately, this religion has made great progress among the people of Kandiá

generally. Every little village has a mosque, and in most of the towns

there are numerous mosques with schools attached to them, which are

generally crowded by students from every caste. In Gabriál, the Mullahs

or priests are, for the most part, of the Shîn caste, but men of every

caste are zealous in giving education to their sons. Their education is

limited to Muhammadan law (of the Hanifite school), and Arabian logic

and philosophy. Very little attention is paid to Arabic or Persian

general literature and caligraphy, that great Oriental art; so little,

indeed, that Harifullah and Mir Abdulla, who are scholars of a very high

standard, are wholly ignorant of any of the caligraphic forms, and their

handwriting is scarcely better than that of the lowest primary class boys

in the schools of the Punjab.

The most accomplished scholar in Kandiá is the high priest and chief of

Patan, named Hazrat Ali, who is a Shîn.

The people generally are peaceful, and have a fair complexion and erect

bearing. Their social and moral status has lately been raised very high.

Robbery and adultery are almost unknown, and the usual punishment for

these crimes is death. Divorce is seldom practised; polygamy is not rare

among the rich men (wadán), but is seldom found among the common people.

GOVERNMENT.—Every village or town is governed by a Council of elders,

chosen from among every tribe or “taífa.” The most influential man

among these elders for the time being is considered as the chief of

the Council. These elders are either Shîns or Yashkun. No Kamìn can be

elected an elder, though he may become a Mullá, but a Mulla-kamìn also

cannot be admitted to the Council.

The reigning Council of Gabriál consists of 12 persons, of whom 9 are

Shins and 3 Yashkuns. Patshé Khân is the present chief of the Council.

The post of Chief of the Council is not hereditary, but the wisest and

the most influential of the elders is elected to that post. Justice is

administered by the Mullahs without the interference of the Council,

whose operation is limited to inter-tribal feuds.

CUSTOMS AND MANNERS.—Hockey on horseback, which is called “lughât” in

Gabriál, is played on holidays; and the place where they meet for the

sport is called “lughât-kárin-jha.”

Guns are called “nâli” in Gabriál, and are manufactured in the town by

blacksmiths.

Dancing is not practised generally, as in the other Shin countries. Only

“Doms” dance and sing, as this is their profession; they play on the

“surúi” (pipe), rabáb (harp), and shaṇdo (drum).

The “purdá” system, or “veiling” women, is prevalent among the gentry,

but it is only lately that the system was introduced into this country.

When a son is born, a musket is fired off, and the father of the newborn

son gives an ox as a present to the people, to be slaughtered for a

general festival.

Infanticide is wholly unknown.

MARRIAGE.—The father of the boy does not go himself, as in Gilgit, to

the father of the girl, but sends a man with 5 or 6 rupees, which he

offers as a present. If the present is accepted, the betrothal (lóli) is

arranged. As far as the woman is concerned the “lóli” is inviolable. The

usual sum of dowry paid in cash is 80 rupees.

A bride is called “zhiyán,” and the bridegroom “zhiyán lo.”

LANGUAGE.—On account of the want of intercourse between the tribes the

language of Kohistan is broken into numerous dialects; thus the structure

of the dialects spoken in Kandiá, _i.e._, in Gabriál and Patan, differs

from that of the language spoken in Chilás and Palus, _i.e._, in the

countries situated on this side of the Indus. Harifullah, a Gabriáli, did

not understand any language except his own; but Ahmad Shah, an inhabitant

of Jalkôt (situated in the southern part of Chilás), understood Gabriáli,

as he had been there for a time. Ghulam Mohammad, our Gilgiti man, who

had been captured in an excursion, and had lived as a slave in Chilás,

also thoroughly understood Jalkóti.

The language of Kohistan (as Chilás, Kandiá, etc., are also called) is

divided into two dialects, called _Shéná_ and _Shúthun_ respectively.

In the countries situated on that side of the Indus, that is in Kandiá,

Shúthun is spoken.

The following pages are devoted to _Ballads_, _Proverbs_, _Riddles_, and

_Dialogues_ in the Shúthun dialect.

_Songs_ = Gíla. Meshón gíla = men’s songs; Gharón gíla = female songs.

1. AN ELEGY.

Fifteen years ago a battle was fought between _Arslán Khan_ of _Kali_,

and _Qamar Ali Khan_ of _Pálus_, in which 300 men were killed on both

sides. _Phaju_, on whose death the elegy is written by his sister, was

one of the killed. The inhabitants of Palus are called “Sikhs,” in

reproach.

_Rugé níle, jimátyán-kachh-dúkánt_,

In a green place, next a mosque, in a sitting (resting) place,

_Chá chápár gála mazé, shahzada marégil_

In a surrounded fort within, the prince was killed

_Rugé níle, jimátyán kachh, dúkánt_

In a green place, next a mosque, in a resting place

_Sheú wále, bathrí, sóh viráti walégil_.

Bring the bier, lay it down, (so that) that heirless one may be

brought to his home.

ii.

_Rúge níle, wo Shérkot shar hogaé_,

In the green place, that Sherkot, where the halting-places of guests

_Diri Sikáno qatle karégil_.

Are deserted, the Sikhs (infidels, that is the Pálusis) slaughter

committed (did).

_Rúge níle, Shérkot, barí bigá hojowo_,

In the green place, in Sherkot, a great fight happened to be,

_Kali Khel, Phajú dasgír marégil_.

O Kalikhel (a tribe of Kohistan) Phajú is captured and killed.

TRANSLATION.

1. In a green place, next the mosque, in a place of rest.

Within an enclosure the prince was killed.

In a green place, next a mosque, in a spot of rest,

Bring the bier and lay it down, to bring him home who has no heir.

2. In the green place, that Sherkôt, where the halting-place of guests

Is deserted, the Sikhs committed slaughter.

In the green place, in Sherkot, a great fight took place,

Oh, Kalikhel tribe, Phajú was captured and killed.

2. The following song is a chârbait, or quatrain, composed by Qamrán, a

Gabriali poet. The song treats of the love between Saif-ul-mulk, a prince

of Rúm, and Shahparì (the Fairy-queen).

The first line of a _charbait_ is called _Sarnâmâh_, and the remaining

poem is divided into stanzas or “Khhàṛáo,” consisting each of four lines.

At the end of every stanza the burden of the song is repeated:

SARNAMAH.—_Ma húga musfar, mi safár hugâe Hindustan waín_

I became a stranger, my travel became towards Hindustan.

_Mí duâ’ salám, duâ’ salámi ahl Kohistan waín_

My prayer-compliments, prayer-compliments, to the

inhabitants of Kohistan (may go forth).

_Malá Malúkh thû, O Badrái tou ínê haragilua_

I myself am Malukh (name of the Prince Saif-ul-mulk), O

Badra, thou didst lose me.

BURDEN.—_Hái, Malá Malúkh thû, O Badrái, ché Malúkh tîṇ tâó bar

zíthu_

Woe, I am Malukh, O Badra, now thy Malukh from thy sorrow

has lost his senses.

STANZAS.—1. _Mala Malukh thu, O Badrai, Malúkh tîṇ, tâó thú dazélo_

I myself am Malukh, O Badra, thy Malukh burnt has been from

thy heat.

2. _Hyó níeṇ nidhéto qarâré, Malúkh Badré wátbe thú harzélo_

In the heart there is no ease, which Malukh after Badra

has lost.

3. _Be tí áṇs yârâúâ, mah pai-mukhé á’ṇs soh wéloṇ_

Ours, yours, was friendship, I beardless at that time.

4. _Gini kirí thi, háê háê, mi Azli qalam zikzithu_

Why dost thou ... woe! woe! the pen of Eternity wrote so.

BURDEN.—5. _Hái, Malá Malúkh thu, O Badrai, Ché Malukh tîṇ tâó harzi

thu._

Woe, I am Malukh, O Badra, etc., etc.

ii.

1. _Gini kiri the, hae hae, mi azló mazé lìkh taqdîr thú_

Why dost thou ... woe, woe! in Eternity did Fate write so.

2. _Darwázoṇ mazá galáchhe dhuî Mato tiṇ daráṇ faqîr thu_

On thy gate I lit fire (like Jôgís), I a boy was the beggar of thy

door.

3. _To hikmat biu báz-shâî thi kishéu lûṇgo maza zanzîr thu_

By thy stratagem thou takest the eagle a prisoner in the chain of

thy black locks.

4. _Kisheu lûngá, narai narai, panar mûṇla bé the zetdu_

Black locks, in strings, on thy bright face are twined.

5. _Hae Mala Malukh thu...._

Woe, I am Malukh, etc....

iii.

1. _Kisheu lûngá narai narai, panar mûṇ la âwizâṇ thu_

Black locks in strings on thy bright face are hanging.

2. _Mi laṛmûṇ mazá karáé, tiu makhchúe gi mi armâṇ thu_

In my body is the knife, thine is this deed which was my desire.

3. _A’khir dhar héṇti nímgaré shoṇ fáni na, malá rawâṇ thu_

At length will remain unfinished this waning (world), I now depart.

4. _Hyó mi kir súraí súraí, Jandun giná thu, ma mari thu_

My heart didst thou pierce in holes, where is my life, I am dead.

5. _Hae Hae...._

Woe, I am Malukh, etc.

iv.

1. _Hyó mi kir súraí súraí térubir, teṇ shon niázah ghiu_

My heart didst thou pierce throughout, by this thy spear.

2. _Mála thu muṛé, ti dalbaráṇ, lailo bá mi janázah ghiu_

I am thy dead boy, thy lover, O dearest, go off from my bier.

3. _Khún tiu gḥaṛ hoga, ghi tulá nibháé ansi khévah ghiu_

My blood is on thy neck, alas! thou didst not sit with me, being

engaged in thy toilet.

4. _Khévah kirethi zhare tin soh khiyál mudá chaizbithú_

Thy toilet do now, now that thy remembrance of me is slackened

by Time.

MATAL (Masl = Proverbs).

PROVERBS.—(1) _Zánda chapélo razan bhiyáṇt._

One who is struck by all, fears even a rope.

(2) _Zoṛoṇ waé nhálé k hurá zhiká._

Looking towards (the length of) the sheet, extend your feet.

(3) _Háte ché rachhélú darwáze aṛat kara._

Elephant if you keep, make your door wide.

(4) _Kaṛotál ghutágir, láwáṇ na hol kir._

The Lion attacks, the Jackal makes water.

(5) _Qá mil tillu gûṇ kaáṇt, báz mil tillu máséu khánt._

With crow went, ate dung; with eagle went, ate flesh.

_i.e._ In the company of the crow you will learn to eat dung

and in that of the eagle, you will eat flesh.

(6) _Taṇgá gatam karé rupaé balyúṇ._

A penny, for collecting went, lost rupee.

(7) _Aíṇ tale kaṇwalé déthé, mazé háṛ shárá túṇ._

Big mouth flattery does, inwardly (in mind) breaks bones.

(8) _Dúṇí lawáṇo karú márch._

Two Jackals a lion kill.

(9) _Dhon mazé ek bakrí budi agalu, bûtoṇ bakroṇ ethi._

In a flock, if a contagious disease to one goat come, it comes to

all goats.

(10) _Gúṇ khuch táṇt soṇ, gháṇo cháí hont._

Dung is spread out however much, bad smell so much more becomes.

(11) _Zhá zhui dárú._

Brother’s remedy is brother.

(12) _Tálaiṇ uthi, kozá dishál, tiu dú boṇdi._

A sieve rose, to pot said, “You have two holes.”

(13) _Zar bádshah tamam hotoṇ, hiyá bandgár shilát._

Money of the king is spent, heart of the treasurer pains.

ISHOLÁ (Question).

RIDDLES.—(1) _Shúṇ ghélá chíz thuṇ, che naháláṇt tasi wáiṇ pasháṇt amá?_

Such what thing is, which they see towards it, they see

themselves in it?

_Answer: Mirror._ _Shúṇ áhan thi._ = Such _mirror_ is.

(2) _Shúṇ gheḷá chíz thúṇ che surat záné thi, tilháṇt nai?_

Such what thing is, whose figure serpent-like is, does not move?

_Answer: Rope._ _Shúṇ rás thi._ = Such rope is.

(3) _Shúṇ ghelá chíz thúṇ, aṇgár dheráni gellú, dhúaṇ darya bau nikáṇt?_

Such what thing is, fire is applied to dry grass, the river of

smoke flows from it.

_Answer: Hookâh._

(4) _Shúṇ ghélá chíz thúṇ, che mut surté waré nahále? hasáṇt, khuroṇ

we nahále roṇt?_

Such what thing is, who seeing towards other body laughs, seeing

towards feet, weeps?

_Answer: Peacock._

SHÚTHUN.

WORDS AND DIALOGUES.

_Words._

God, _Khávaṇd_.

fairy, _kháperé_.

demon, _div_.

female demon, _balái_.

paradise, _janat_.

fire, _aṇgár_.

earth, _uzmuk_.

water, _wí_.

heaven, _asmán_.

moon, _yúṇ_.

star, _tará_.

darkness, _tamáí_.

shadow, _chhoṇl_.

day, _des_.

light, _láwar_.

night, _rál_.

midday, _mazardi_.

midnight, _áṛ-rál_.

evening, _nosháṇ_.

to-day, _ázuk des_.

yesterday, _bayaluk des_.

to-morrow, _rályaṇk des_.

heat, _taó_, _tát_.

cold, _hewán_.

flame, _lám_.

smoke, _dhúáṇ_.

thunder, _hagá-dazi-gé_.

lightning, _mili_.

rain, _ájo_.

drop, _ájo-tìpo_.

rainbow, _bijonṛ_.

snow, _hiṇ yúṇ_.

ice, _kambuk_.

hail, _mékh_.

dew, _palús_.

earthquake, _bhúnál_.

dust, _udhún_.

pebbles, _lakh-bato_.

sand, _sighál_.

mud, _chichál_.

plain, _maidán_, _meráh_.

valley, _dará_.

mount, _kháu_.

foot of mountain, _múndh_.

river, _sín_.

wooden bridge, _síú_.

rivulet, _uchhu_.

streamlet, _kháṛ_.

avalanche, _hiṇál_.

lake, _dhám_.

pond, _dhamkalú_.

confluence, _milil_.

banks, _sin-kaí_.

yonder bank, _pír sinkai_.

this bank, _ár sinkai_.

a well, _kohi_.

country, _watau_.

village, _gáụ_.

Dardistan in 1866, 1886 and 1893 Being an account of the history, religions, customs, legends, fables, and songs of Gilgit, Chilas, Kandia (Gabrial), Dasin, Chitral, Hunsa, Nagyr, and other parts of the Hindukush, as also a supplement to the second edition of the Hunza and Nagyr handbook and an epitome of part III of the author's "The languages and races of Dardistan" · 第 6 / 8 章

Part I. of my “Dardistan” and which the Government declared “as throwing