The fast growing city of Nushki--The Tashil--the
Tashildar--Beluch law--Hospital--Pneumonia and consumption--Lawn
tennis--The Nushki Bazaar--Satisfactory trade returns--The
projected Quetta-Nushki Railway--A great future for Nushki--An
extension to Sistan necessary--Also a telegraph--Preferable
routes for a railway to Sistan--From Nushki to Kishingi--A
curious Mesjid--Mudonek Ateng Mountain--A fast of twenty-five
days--The Chiltan and Takatu Mts.--The Gurghena tribe--Huts and
tents--Beluch hospitality--Villages.
Let us take a walk through the fast growing city of Nushki. Half a dozen
years ago there was next to nothing here, but now we have a beautiful
_Tashil_--a large walled enclosure, with a portico all round inside and
circular towers at the four corners. The actual Tashil office, occupying
the north-east corner, has a most business-like appearance, with handsome
iron despatch-boxes, clocks that mark each a different time, but look
most imposing all the same, and folio-documents folded in two and
carefully arranged in piles upon the floor by the side of wise-looking
clerks squatting in their midst. The Tashildar himself, Sardar Mahommed
Yuzaf Khan Popalzai, is a much respected man of Afghan birth, of the
Bamezi Popalzai Durranis, or descendants of the tribe reigning in Cabul
before Mahommed Zeis took the throne, when his ancestors and the Saddo
Zeis were forcibly banished from the country.
[Illustration: The New City of Nushki. (overlooking the Tashil
Buildings.)]
The Tashildar, a most intelligent officer, seems to understand the Beluch
chiefs thoroughly, treats them with extreme consideration--in private
life dealing with them as honoured guests, and politically as Government
subjects who must adhere to their loyalty to the King.
There are also within the Tashil wall a post and telegraph office and a
treasury, a neat little red brick building, with strong iron gates and
huge padlocks. Prisons are on either side of the treasury, so that one
single sentry may keep an eye on both the prisoners and the local
Government funds.
When I visited the place an old man in chains was squatting in the sun
outside his cell. I inquired what crime he had committed. His daughter,
they said, was betrothed to a young man, and at the time appointed for
the marriage the old man did not bring the girl to the bridegroom as
stipulated. He had consequently already been here in prison for two
months to pay for his folly, and would possibly have to remain some
months longer, for, according to Beluch law--which is in force here--such
a crime deserves severe punishment.
Another prisoner--a cattle lifter--had a most hideously criminal head.
Prisoners were very well cared for, had nice clean cells given them, and
were provided with plenty of food and blankets.
The Tashil establishment consisted of one Tashildar, one _Sarishtedar_
(clerk who reads papers), one Judicial _Moharrir_, one _Kanungo_ (revenue
clerk), three _patwaris_, one accountant in treasury and one treasurer,
one _chaprassi_, one petition writer, one levy moonshee, one post and
telegraph master, one postman, one hospital assistant, one compounder,
three servants.
Next to the Tashil was the _thana_ and Police-station, with a police
thanedar, one sergeant and nine (Punjab) constables, as well as a levy
_jemadar_ with one _duffadar_ and ten _sawars_.
There is a practical little hospital at Nushki, with eight beds and a
dispensary, but the health of the place seemed very good, and there were
no patients when I visited it. Moreover, it seems that the Beluch prefer
to be given medicine and remain in their dwellings, except in cases of
very severe illness. The principal ailments from which they suffer are
small-pox, measles, and scurvy, which in various stages is most prevalent
among the Beluch. Chest complaints are unknown among them while they live
out in the open air, but when they are forcibly confined to rooms, for
instance as prisoners, they generally die of pneumonia or develop
consumption.
Two caravanserais are found at Nushki, one for traders from Sistan, and
one for caravans from Quetta, and a mosque, so that the place is quite a
self-contained little town.
In front of the hospital one is rather staggered by finding an actual
tennis court laid down according to the most precise rules, and no doubt
in course of time we may expect golf links and ping-pong tournaments
which will mark further steps towards the Anglicisation of that district.
But personally I was more interested in the local bazaar, counting
already 150 shops.
The Nushki bazaar is along a wide road kept tidy and clean, and the place
boasts of butcher-shops, a washerman, one tailor marked by smallpox and
one who is not; _ghi_ merchants with large round casks outside their
doors; cloth merchants; blacksmiths and grain shops. In a back
street--for, indeed, Nushki boasts already of two streets parallel with
the main thoroughfare--under a red flag hoisted over the premises is an
eating house--a restaurant for natives. The merchants are mostly Hindoos
from Sind.
[Illustration: Jemadar and Levies, Nushki.]
[Illustration: A Giant Beluch Recruit. (Chaman.)]
The land on which the shops have been built has practically been given
free by the Government on condition that, if required back again at a
future date, the builder of the house upon the land reclaimed is
entitled, as an indemnity, only to the restitution of the wood employed
in the construction of the house--the chief item of expense in Nushki
constructions.
Cotton goods, blue, red and white, seem to command the greatest sale of
any articles in Nushki, after which the local trade consists of wheat,
almonds, barley, carpets (from Sistan), wool, _kanawes_ (cloth from
Meshed), and cloths imported from England, mostly cheap cottons; camels,
dates, etc.
The transit trade of Nushki is, however, very considerable. The
Government returns of the trade that passed through Nushki during the
year from April, 1900, to April, 1901, showed an aggregate of
Rs.1,534,452, against Rs.1,235,411 for the preceding twelve months, while
two years before (1898-1899) the returns barely amounted to Rs.728,082.
Last year, 1901, the trade returns made a further jump upwards in the
nine months from April to the end of December, 1901, the imports
amounting to Rs.680,615, and the exports Rs.925,190, or an aggregate of
Rs.1,605,805, which is very satisfactory indeed.
So much has been written of late about Nushki, especially in connection
with the new railway, that I have very little to add. I most certainly
think that, strategically and commercially, Nushki is bound to become a
very important centre, and, as far as trade goes, eventually to supplant
Quetta altogether, owing to its more convenient position. The projected
railway from Quetta to Nushki will be a great boon to caravans, both from
Afghanistan and Persia, because the severe cold of Quetta makes it very
difficult for camels to proceed there in winter, and camel drivers have a
great objection to taking their animals there.
For any one looking ahead at the future and not so much at the present,
it seems, however, almost a pity that the newly sanctioned railway should
not join Nushki with Shikarpur or Sibi instead of Quetta, which would
have avoided a great and apparently almost useless detour. Nushki will be
found to develop so fast and so greatly that, sooner or later, it will
have to be connected in a more direct line with more important trading
centres than Quetta. Quetta is not a trading centre of any importance,
and is merely a military station leading nowhere into British territory
in a direct line.
However, even the Quetta-Nushki railway is better than nothing, and will
certainly have a beneficial effect upon the country it will pass through.
From a military point of view the railway as far as Nushki only is
practically useless. It is only a distance of some ninety odd miles,
through good country with plenty of water and some grazing.
In England one reads in the papers and hears people talk of this railway
as the Quetta-Sistan Railway, and people seem to be under the impression
that Nushki is on the Persian border. It should be clearly understood
that from Nushki to Sistan (Sher-i-Nasrya) the distance, through
practically desert country and scanty water, is over 500 miles. To my
mind it is in the Robat-Nushki portion of that distance, where travelling
is difficult, and for troops almost impossible, that a railway is mostly
needed. I have gone to much trouble, and risked boring the reader, to
give all the differential altitudes upon the portion of the road between
Robat and Nushki, and it will be seen that hardly anywhere does the track
rise suddenly to more than 50 or 100 feet at most. The ground could
easily be made solid enough to lay a line upon; tanks for the water
supply might be established at various stations, and a railway could be
built with no trouble and comparatively small expense.
Again, for the trade of Southern Persia, Robat would, I think, be a
fairly good terminus on the Perso-Beluch frontier; but, in order to
compete with Russia in Sistan and Khorassan, it would be a very good
thing if the Government could enter into an arrangement with Afghanistan,
so that if such a railway were built it should strike from Dalbandin
across the desert up to the Southern bank of the Halmund, and have
Sher-i-Nasrya in Sistan for its terminus. This would do away almost
altogether--except in a small section--with the difficulty of the water,
and would shorten the distance by at least one quarter.
The idea one often hears that it would be dangerous to construct such a
railway, because it would be to open a passage for Russia into India, is
too ridiculous to be argued about. It might be pointed out that the
Russians on their side seem not to reciprocate the fear of our invading
their country, for they are pushing their railways from the north as far
as they can towards the Persian frontier, and it is stated that a
concession has been obtained by them for a railway line to Meshed.
But, either _via_ Robat or the Halmund, the principal point is that if we
do not wish to lose Southern Persia we must push the railway with the
utmost speed, at least as far as the frontier. Anything, in such a case,
is better than nothing, and most undoubtedly a telegraph line should be
established without delay--possibly as far as the Sher-i-Nasrya
Consulate. Matters are much more urgent than we in England think, and if
warning is not taken we shall only have ourselves to blame for the
consequences.
From Nushki I went to a great extent along the line which is to be
followed by the future railway. It seemed very sensibly traced, avoiding
expensive difficulties, such as tunnels, as much as possible, but of
course this railway has to go over a good portion of mountainous country
and cannot be built on the cheap.
[Illustration: The Track between Nushki and Kishingi.]
I left Nushki on the 31st, following a limpid stream of water, and we
began a zig-zag ascent of the mountains before us to the east, leaving
behind to the north-east in a valley a large camp of railway engineers
and surveyors. After some two miles we reached a broad valley, and we
continued to rise until we had reached the pass, 4,820 feet. On the other
side we descended only 75 feet to a plain--a plateau, with hill ranges
rising on it, and a barrier of higher mountains behind. The vegetation
here was quite different from anything we had met in the desert, and
_kotor_ was plentiful--a plant, the Beluch say, eaten by no animal.
Tamarisk seemed to flourish--it is a wonderful plant that flourishes
almost everywhere.
The plain was subdivided into three. In the first portion, four miles
wide, and one broad, the _monguli_ shrub was abundant, and, like the
_kotor_, was pronounced a useless plant, despised by all beasts. In the
second plain we found more _kotor_, and in the last--very sandy--a lot of
tamarisk. The ground was cut about by numerous dry water-channels, and
after a very easy march of some eleven miles we came to the bungalow of
Kishingi, having ascended from 3,745 feet at the Nushki Tashil to 4,720
feet at the Kishingi rest-house. We had seen a great many white pillar
posts indicating the line of the future railroad.
We had now quite a different type of rest-houses--two-storied, and very
nice too, the two rooms being comfortably enough furnished. A
caravanserai was attached to the bungalow.
Still going east we crossed another narrow valley, through which the
railway was traced, and after going over a pass 5,250 feet we were in a
valley with a lot of _johr_ growing upon it--a plant which the Beluch say
is deadly to man and beast alike. On the top of the pass we saw a Mesjid,
and several more were found on descending on the other side as well as a
graveyard.
A curious white Mesjid was to be seen here shaped like an 8, and erected
on the site where a Beluch had been killed. A conical mountain to the
south, the Mudonek Ateng, was famous, my camel driver told me, because a
Beluch fakir is said to have remained on the top of it for 25 days
without food or water. A small stone shelter could be seen on the top of
the mountain, which, they say, had been the fakir's abode during his long
fast.
There is very little of special interest on this well-known part of the
route near Quetta. We rose for several miles to a higher pass (5,700
feet), and were then on a higher flat plateau with a high range
stretching half-way across it from south-south-east to north-north-west.
One's attention was at once drawn to the north-east by two renowned peaks
in British Beluchistan, the Chiltan, and further off the Takatu Mount. At
their foot on the other side lay Quetta. In front of these we had the
Hilti range stretching north-west to south-east, ending in Mount Barag on
the north, and the two Askhan hills.
This part seemed more populated, and we left to the east the tribe of
Gurghena, comprising four villages at intervals of about one mile from
one another. The last was situated in the wide valley to the west of the
Hilti range. Other villages could be seen further in the valley extending
towards the south, which were supplied with water by a river flowing
along the valley. A few _ghedan_, or low grass huts, were scattered about
the valley, and some black tents 5½ feet high, with one side raised like
an awning by means of sticks. A pen for sheep was erected near them with
tamarisk branches and sticks.
We were very thirsty and went to one of these tents. The woman who
occupied it gave us some water, but, although in abject poverty, angrily
refused to accept a silver coin in payment, saying that Beluch cannot be
paid for hospitality. Water costs nothing. God gives water for all the
people alike, and, if they were to accept payment, misfortune would fall
upon them.
Further on we passed the village of Paden, with cultivation all round and
plenty of water. The chief had quite an imposing residence, with a tower
and castellated entrance gate, and the characteristic cylindrical mangers
for horses in front of his dwelling. But although more elaborate, even
this house--the largest I had seen--was absolutely devoid of windows,
except for a loop-hole to the east of the tower, which I think was more
for defensive purposes than for ventilation's sake.
The village of Kardegap was seen next, and we arrived at Morad Khan Kella
(5,500 feet) twenty-four miles from our last camp.