ENGLISH OFFICIAL EXPLORATION--LORD AND WOOD
Then followed the Afghan Campaign of 1839-40, a campaign which was in
many ways disastrous to our credit in Afghanistan both as diplomats
and soldiers, but which undoubtedly opened out an opportunity for
acquiring a general knowledge of the conformation of the country which
was not altogether neglected. With the political methods attending the
inception of the campaign (treated with such scathing scorn by
Masson), and the strange bungling of an overweighted and unwieldy
force armed with antique weapons we have nothing to do. The question
is whether, apart from the acquisition of route sketches and
intelligence reports dependent on the movements of the army in the
field, was there anything that could rank as original exploration in
new geographical fields? Lieut. North's excellent traverse and report
of the route to Kandahar, which still supplies data for an integral
part of our maps, was distinguished for more accuracy of detail and
observation than most efforts of a similar character made at that
time; but it can hardly be regarded as an illustration of new and
original exploration, the route itself being well enough known to
British Missions, although never before surveyed. It is undoubtedly
one of the best map contributions of the period.
The adventures of Dr. Lord and Lieut. Wood in Badakshan, and the
remarkable journey of Broadfoot across Central Afghanistan, however,
belong to another category. These explorations covered new ground,
much of which has never since been visited by European travellers, and
they are authoritative records still. There were missed opportunities
in abundance. Also opportunities which were not missed, but of which
our records are so incomplete and obscure that the modern map-maker
can extract but little useful information from them.
When Burnes was in Kabul on his first commercial mission, Dr. Lord and
Lieut. Leech of the Bombay Engineers were attached to his staff, and
both these gentlemen, with Lieut. Wood of the Indian Navy,
distinguished themselves by much original research, and have left
records the value of which has been proved by subsequent observations.
In the middle of October 1837 Dr. Lord left Kabul on an expedition
into the plains of the Koh Daman, to the north of that city, which was
to be extended to the passes of the Hindu Kush leading into Badakshan,
when he was subsequently invited to attend the court of Murad Beg,
the chief of Kunduz, in his professional capacity. Murad Beg was one
of the strongest chiefs of that time. As a bold and astute freebooter
and successful warrior he had made his name great amongst the Uzbeks
south of the Oxus, and had consolidated their scattered clans for the
time being into a formidable cohesion, the strength of which made
itself felt and respected at Kabul. Where Dost Mahomed's influence
ceased on the north there commenced that of Murad Beg, and the line of
division may be said to have extended from Ak Robat at the head of the
Bamian valley on the west, to the passes and foot-hills of the Hindu
Kush above Andarab on the east. It was late in the year for Lord to
attempt the passing of the Hindu Kush, and he appears to have lingered
too long amongst the delightful autumn scenes of that land of
enchantment, the Koh Daman. He selected the passes which strike off
from Charikar, near the junction of the Ghorband with the Panjshir
rivers. There has always been a slight confusion in the naming of this
group of passes, owing to the universal habit in Afghanistan of
bestowing the name of some possibly insignificant village site on
rivers, passes, and roads, without attaching any distinct and definite
name to these features themselves.
From that break in the hills which gives passage to the Ghorband from
the south-west and the Panjshir from the north-east there strikes off
one well-known route across the backbone of the Hindu Kush, which is
marked near the southern foot of the mountains by the ancient town of
Parwan--a commercial site more ancient than that of Kabul--the
headquarters of Sabaktagin, the Ghuri conqueror, when he wrested Kabul
from the Hindu kings, and of Timur the Tartar in later ages.
Consequently, the pass which bears north from that point is often
called the Parwan. It was, according to Lord, the chief khafila route
from Badakshan (although it may be doubted whether it was ever as
popular as the Khawak when the Panjshir route was not closed by tribal
hostility), notwithstanding that far less traffic passed that way than
by Bamian and the Unai. The head of the pass was known as Sar Alang,
so that it figures in geographical records frequently under this name
also, whilst the local name acquired for it in the course of surveying
in 1883 was Bajgah. To the west of this is the Kaoshan Pass, which is
also known _par excellence_ as the pass of "Hindu Kush"; and farther
west again is the Gwalian (or Walian), an alternative to the Kaoshan
when the latter is in flood. Lord selected the Parwan or Sar Alang
Pass, narrow, rocky, and uneven, with a fall of about 200 feet per
mile, and was fairly defeated in his attempt to cross, on October 19,
by snow. This is about the closing time of the passes generally, the
Parwan being only 12,300 feet in altitude, although Lord estimated it
at 15,000. It is worth noting here that the Russo-Afghan Boundary
Commission party crossed by the Chahardar Pass (a pass to the west
again of the Walian) in the same month of October without encountering
any insuperable difficulty from snow, although the Chahardar is more
than 1000 feet higher than the Parwan. The fact that Lord met a
khafila snow-bound near the top of the pass indicates that it was
closed rather unexpectedly. Valuable observations were, however, the
result of this reconnaissance. It revealed the fact that snow lies
lower and deeper on the northern side of the Hindu Kush than on the
southern, a fact which is in direct opposition to the general
characteristics of the Himalayas. The explanation is, however, simple.
In both cases the snow lies lowest on that side which reaches down to
low humid plains and much precipitation of moisture. Where the barrier
of the mountains breaks the upward sweep of vapour-bearing currents,
there snowfall is arrested, and the highlands become desiccated.
Lord's observation as a geologist also determined the constitution of
these mountains. He noted the rugged uplift (beautiful from the
admixture of pure white felspar and glossy black hornblende) of the
central granite peaks through the overlying gneiss, schists, and
slate, which thus revealed the extension of one of the great primeval
folds of Himalayan conformation.
Returning from his attempt to cross the pass, Lord had the good
fortune to be able to extend his researches for a day's march up the
Ghorband valley, and to explore the ancient lead mines of Ferengal,
which have been sunk in the Ghorband conglomerates, but had long been
abandoned by the Afghans. These he found to have been worked on
"knowledge and principle, not on blind chance,"--as might have been
expected in a country which still possesses some of the best practical
mining and irrigation engineers in the world; and he testifies, _inter
alia_, to the extraordinary effect of the exceeding dryness of the
interior, as evidenced by the preservation from decay of dead animals.
Similar phenomena have been observed in many parts of the world both
before and since, and it would appear that a satisfactory scientific
explanation is still wanting for this preservative tendency of caves
and mines; the atmosphere, in some cases where well-preserved remains
are found, being subject to exactly the same conditions of humidity as
the outer air.
It was during this interesting exploratory trip that Dr. Lord received
a welcome invitation to visit Murad Beg in the Uzbek capital of
Kunduz, where his professional advice was in urgent demand. Although
the northern passes of the Hindu Kush were closed, the route to
Badakshan was still open _via_ Bamian and Khulm, and it was by this
route that for the first (and apparently the last) time the journey
from Kabul to Kunduz was made by European officers. Lord was
accompanied by Lieut. Wood, and it is to Wood's summary of the
conditions of the route that we now refer. As far as Bamian it was
already beginning to be a well-known road (well known, that is, to
European travellers); but beyond that point it was a new venture then,
nor can any record be traced of subsequent investigations on it.
Wood summarises the route by first enumerating the seven passes which
have to be negotiated before reaching Kunduz (or Khulm), and gives us
a slight description of them all. Four of these passes were in Afghan
territory, and three beyond. Of the passes of Ispahak and Unai he
merely remarks that a mail-coach might be driven over them. The
Hajigak group he regards as the "Key-guide to the Bamian line," the
Hajigak being the highest pass encountered (about 11,000 feet). A
little to the north is the Irak, and to the south is the Pushti
Hajigak (Kafzur in modern maps); the Hajigak, or Irak, being open to
khafilas for ten months of the year, but for a considerably less
period to the passage of troops. The next pass Wood calls Kalloo
(Panjpilan in our maps), which he regards as being lower than Hajigak.
Then follows the descent into Bamian. Next is the Ak Robat Pass
(10,200 feet), between the valleys of Bamian and Saighan, of which
Wood reports that "it is open to wheeled traffic of all description."
As far as this (the then frontier of Afghanistan) Wood refers to the
fact, already recorded, that the Amir's Lieutenant--Haji Khan--was
able to take field-pieces "of a size between 12- and 18-pounders." We
already know the conditions under which this passage of artillery was
effected. It is also on record that Nadir Shah took guns as far as
Saighan. What is not so generally known is that the Uzbek chief, Murad
Beg, took an 18-pounder over the rest of the route from Saighan to
Kunduz. The three remaining passes are (1) the Dandan Shikan, between
Saighan and Kamard, of which Wood reports the north face to be
exceedingly difficult, and where he would never have believed that a
gun could pass, had it not been actually traversed by the 18-pounder
of Murad Beg. It may be mentioned here that it took 1100 men to drag
that gun up the northern face of the pass, so that Wood is quite
justified in classing it as only fit for camels. Then follows (2) the
Kara Pass, leading from Kamard into the valley of the Tashkurghan
River, about which the only remark made by Wood is that it may be
turned by the pass of Surkh Kila (which involves a considerable
detour). As Wood does not definitely state which is (3) the seventh
pass, we may assume that it is the Shamsuddin, which is merely a
detour to avoid an awkward reach of the Tashkurghan valley.
This is probably the first clear exposition which has ever been made
of the general nature of the route connecting Kabul with Afghan
Turkistan, and for it we must give Lieut. Wood all the credit that is
fully due; for no subsequent surveys and investigations have
materially altered his opinion. It must not be forgotten that in
dealing with the story of Afghan exploration we are touching on past
records. The far-sighted policy of public works development, which
distinguished the late Amir Abdurrahmon, led to the extension of roads
for facilitating commerce between the Oxus and Kabul, the full effect
of which we have yet to learn. To the north of Kabul the roads opened
to khafila traffic, _via_ the Chahardar Pass and the Khawak, have
introduced a new and important feature into the system of Afghan
communications; and it is more than probable that the facilities for
wheeled traffic between Kabul and Tashkurghan have lately been largely
increased.[12] It is well also to remember that it is not the physical
difficulties of rough roads and narrow passes which form the chief
obstacle to the movement of large bodies of troops. Roads can be made,
and crooked places straightened with comparative ease, but altitude,
sheer altitude, still remains a formidable barrier, which no modern
ingenuity has taught us to overcome. Deep impassable snow-drifts, and
the fierce killing blasts of the north-westers of Afghanistan close
these highland fields for months together; and neither roads nor
railways (still less air-ships) can prevail against them.
When Wood and Lord turned eastward from Khulm, and passed on to Kunduz
and Badakshan, they were treading ground which was absolutely new to
the European explorer, and which has seldom been reached even by the
ubiquitous native surveyor. Lord gives us but a scanty account of
Kunduz and northern Badakshan in his report, and we must turn to the
immortal Wood (the discoverer of one of the Oxus' sources) for fuller
and more picturesque detail. Wood left Kunduz for the upper Oxus in
the early spring of 1838, and it is somewhat remarkable that he should
have effected an important exploration successfully in regions so
highly elevated at the worst season of the year. Before following Wood
to the Oxus, we may add a few further details of that important march
from Kabul to Kunduz.
It was in November 1837 that Wood and Lord were again in Kabul after
their unsuccessful attempt to cross the Parwan Pass, and losing no
time they started on the 15th for Badakshan by the Bamian route,
crossing the Unai Pass and the elevated plain which separates it from
the Helmund without difficulty. They encountered large parties of
half-starved Hazaras seeking the plains on their annual pilgrimage to
warm quarters for the winter. They crossed the Hajigak Pass on the
19th "with great ease," then passing the divide between the Afghan and
Turkistan drainage; but they had to make a considerable detour to
avoid the direct Kalu Pass, and entered Bamian by the precipitous
Pimuri defile and the volcanic valley of Zohak. The Ak Robat Pass
presented no difficulty. In Saighan they encountered the slave-gang of
wretched Hazara people who were being then conducted to Kunduz as
yearly contribution. Not much is said about the Dandan Shikan Pass
dividing Saighan from Kamurd, where they were welcomed by the drunken
old chief Rahmatulla Khan, whose character for reckless hospitality
seems to have been a well-known feature in Badakshan. He is mentioned
by every traveller who passed that way since Burnes' mission in 1832.
On the 28th they reached Kuram, where they found another slave-gang
being conducted by Afghans from Kabul, who had the grace to appear
much ashamed of being caught red-handed in a traffic which has never
commended itself to Afghan public opinion. Amongst Uzbeks it is
different, the custom of man-stealing appears to have smothered every
better feeling, and the traffic in human beings extends even into
their domestic arrangements. Their wives are just as much "property"
as their slaves. A little below Kuram they struck off to the right by
a direct route to Kunduz, and passing over a district which had "a
wavy surface," "affording excellent pasturage," which involved the
crossing of the pass of Archa, they finally crossed the Kunduz River,
and making their way through the swampy district of Baglan and
Aliabad, reached Kunduz on December 4.
Wood is not enthusiastic about Kunduz. He calls it one of the most
wretched towns in Murad Beg's dominions. "The appearance of Kunduz
accords with the habits of an Uzbek; and by its manner, poverty and
filth, may be estimated the moral worth of its inhabitants." He
thought a good deal of Murad Beg all the same, and could not deny his
great abilities. "But with all his high qualifications Murad Beg is
but the head of an organised banditti, a nation of plunderers, whom,
however, none of the neighbouring states can exterminate." Murad Beg
has joined his fathers long ago, but no recent account of Kunduz much
alters Wood's opinion of it. The wretched Badakshanis whom Murad Beg
conquered, and whom he set to live or die in the dank pestilential
marshes which fill up the space between the Badakshan highlands and
the Oxus, have since then been restored to their own country; and of
Badakshan we heard enough from the Amir's officials connected with the
Pamir Boundary Commission to lead us to believe in it as a veritable
land of promise, a land whose natural beauty and fertility may be
compared to that of Kashmir--but this was told of the mountain
regions, not of the Oxus flats.
When Wood got away from Kunduz and travelled eastwards to Faizabad and
Jirm he does rise to enthusiasm, and tells us of scenes of natural
beauty which no European eye has seen since he passed that way. On
December 11, in mid-winter, Wood started from Kunduz with the
permission of Murad Beg to trace the "Jihun" to its source, and the
story of this historical exploration will always be most excellent
reading.
First crossing an open plain with a southern background of mountains,
a plain of jungle grass, moist and unfavourable to human life, with
stifling mists of vapour flitting uneasily before them, the party
reached higher ground and the town of Khanabad. Behind Khanabad rises
the isolated peak of Koh Umbar, 2500 feet above the plain, which
appears to be a remarkable landmark in this region. It has never yet
been fixed geographically. Passing through the low foot-hills
surrounding this mountain, Wood emerged into the plain of Talikhan,
and reached the ancient town of that name in a heavy downpour of
winter rain. Here at once he encountered reminiscences of Greek
occupation and claimants to the lineage of Alexander the Great. The
trail of the Greek occupation of Baktria clings to Badakshan as does
that of Nysa to the valleys of Kafiristan. The impression of Talikhan
is summed up by Wood in the statement that it is a most disagreeable
place in rainy weather. He might say the same of every town in Afghan
Turkistan. He has much to say of Uzbek character and idiosyncrasies.
In one respect he says that the habits of Uzbek children are superior
to those of young Britons. They do not rob sparrows' nests! Here, too,
Wood found himself on the track of Moorcroft. Striking eastward he
crossed the Lataband Pass (since fixed at 5650 feet in height) and
first encountered snow. From the pass he describes the surrounding
view as glorious: "In every quarter snowclad peaks shot up into the
sky," and he gives the name Khoja Mahomed to the range (unnamed in our
maps) which crosses Badakshan from north-east to south-west and forms
the chief water-parting of the country. Before him the Kokcha "rolled
its green waters through the rugged valley of Duvanah." The summit of
Lataband is wide and level and the descent eastwards comparatively
easy.
Through the pretty vale of Mashad (where Wood's party crossed the
Varsach River) to Teshkhan the road led generally over hilly country
covered with snow; but leaving Teshkhan it rises over the pass of
Junasdara (fixed by Wood at 6600 feet), crossing one of the great
spurs of the Khoja Mahomed system, and descended to Daraim, "a valley
scarce a bowshot across, but watered, as all the valleys in Badakshan
are, by a beautiful stream of the purest water, and bordered, wherever
there is soil, by a soft velvet turf." To Daraim succeeded the plain
of Argu and the "wavy" district of Reishkhan, which reached to the
valley of the Kokcha. So far, since leaving Talikhan, they had met
with "no sign of man or beast," but the latter were occasionally in
close proximity, for the path was made easy by hog tracks, and Wood
has some grisly tales to tell about the ferocity of the wolves of the
country. Junasdara he describes as a difficult or steep pass, but he
notes the fact that Murad Beg had crossed it with artillery which left
evidence in wheel tracks.
Of Faizabad, when Wood was there, "scarcely a vestige was left," and
Jirm had become the capital of the country. But Faizabad has risen to
importance since, and according to the reports of subsequent native
explorers, has regained a good deal of its commercial importance.
"Behind the site of the town the mountains are in successive ridges to
a height of at least 2000 feet" (_i.e._ above the plain); "before it
rolls the Kokcha in a rocky trench-like bed sufficiently deep to
preclude all danger of inundation. Looking up the valley, the ruined
and uncultivated gardens are seen to fringe the stream for a distance
of two miles above the town." Faizabad is about 3950 feet above
sea-level. Wood makes it about 500 feet lower, and his original
observations were probably of more than equal value with those of
subsequent native explorers. But certain recent improvements in
exploring instruments, and certain refinements in computing the value
of such observations, render the balance of probability in favour of
the later records. Wood (as a sailor) was a professional observer, and
where observations alone are concerned his own are excellent.
From Faizabad Wood went to Jirm, which he regarded as a more important
position than Faizabad. Elsewhere an opinion has been expressed that
Jirm was the ancient capital of the country. Wood took the shortest
road to Jirm which leaves the Kokcha valley and passes over the Kasur
spur, winding by a high and slippery path for some distance along the
face of the hill. It was a two days' march. The fort at Jirm he
describes as the most important in Murad Beg's dominions. His stay at
Jirm gave him the opportunity of visiting the lapis-lazuli mines near
the head of the Kokcha River under the shadow of the Hindu Kush just
bordering Kafiristan. This experience was useful, for Wood not only
contributes a most interesting account of the working of the mines,
but places on record the impracticable nature of the route which
follows the Kokcha River from its source above the mines to Jirm. Near
the assumed source, and not far south of the mines, there are two
passes across the Hindu Kush, viz. the Minjan, which connects with the
well-known Dorah and leads to Chitral, and the Mandal, which unites
the head of the Bashgol valley of Kafiristan with the Minjan sources
of the Kokcha. The upper reaches of the Kokcha River form the Minjan
valley. Sir George Robertson crossed the Mandal in 1889 and fixed its
height at over 15,000 feet, and he places the head of the Minjan (or
Kokcha) much farther south than it appears in our maps. As the Mandal
Pass connects Kafiristan with the Minjan valley of the Kokcha
(pronounced by Wood to be almost impracticable above Jirm), it is of
no great geographical importance; nor, owing to the same
impracticability, is the Minjan Pass itself of any great consequence,
although it connects with Chitral. The Dorah (14,800 feet), on the
other hand, links up Chitral with another branch of the Kokcha,
passing by the populous commercial town of Zebak, and is consequently
a pass to be reckoned with in spite of its altitude. It is, in short,
the chief pass over the Hindu Kush directly connecting India with
Badakshan; but a pass which is nearly as high as Mont Blanc affords no
royal gateway through the mountains.
Wood had sufficiently indicated the nature of the Kokcha valley
between Jirm and Minjan. At the point where the mines occur it is
about 200 yards wide. On both sides the mountains are "high and
naked," and the river flows in a trough 70 feet below the bed of the
valley. We know that it is not a practicable route. It is, however,
much to be regretted that no modern explorer has touched the valley of
Anjuman to the west of Minjan, which, whilst it is perhaps the main
contributor to the waters of the Kokcha, also appears to have
contained a recognised route in mediæval times. "If you wish not to go
to destruction, avoid the narrow valley of Koran," is a native warning
quoted by Wood, which seems to apply to the upper Kokcha. As a
passable khafila route, Idrisi writes that from Andarab to Badakshan
_towards the east_ is a four days' journey. Andarab (the ancient site)
being fixed at the junction of the Kasan stream with the Andarab
River, the only possible route eastwards would be to the head of the
Andarab at Khawak, and thence over the Nawak Pass into the Anjuman
valley. Nor can the Nawak (which is as well known a pass as the
Khawak) have any _raison d'être_ unless it connects with that valley.
There is, however, the possibility of a wrong inference from Idrisi's
vague statement. "Badakshan" (which was represented by either Jirm or
Faizabad) is actually east of Andarab, but to reach it by the obvious
route of the lowlands, following the Kunduz River and ultimately
striking eastwards, would involve starting from Andarab to the west of
north. But just as the Mandal leading into the Minjan valley opens up
no useful route in spite of being a well-known pass, so may the Nawak
lead to nothing really practicable in Anjuman. This, indeed, is
probably the case, but Anjuman remains to be explored.
Returning to Jirm, Wood awaited the opportunity for his historic
exploration of the Oxus. This occurred at the end of January 1838,
when news came to Jirm that the Oxus was frozen above Darwaz. The only
route open to travellers in the snow time of that region is the bed of
the frozen river, and Wood determined to make the best use of the
opportunity. He was anxious to visit the ruby mines of the Oxus
valley, but in this he did not succeed, owing to the extreme
difficulties of the route following the river from its great bend
northward to the district of Gharan, in which these mines are
situated. He met the remnants of a party returning from Gharan which
had lost nearly half its numbers from an avalanche when he reached
Zebak, and wisely determined to expend his efforts in following up the
course of the river to its source, rather than tempt Providence by a
dangerous detour. To reach Zebak from Jirm it was necessary to follow
the Kokcha to its junction with the Wardoj and then turn up that
valley to Zebak. This journey in winter, with the biting blasts of the
glacier-bred winds of the Hindu Kush in their teeth, was sufficiently
trying. These devastated regions seem to be never free from the plague
of wind. It is bad enough in the Pamirs in summer, but in winter when
superadded to the effects of a cold registering 6° below zero it must
have been maddening. There was no great difficulty in crossing the
divide between Zebak (a small but not unimportant town) and the elbow
of the Oxus River at Ishkashm.
Once again since the days of Wood a party of Europeans, which included
two well-known geographers (Lockhart and Woodthorpe, both of whom have
since gone to their rest), reached Ishkashm in 1886, and they were
treated there with anything but hospitality. Wood seemed to have fared
better. With the authority of Murad Beg to back him, and his own tact
and determination to carry him through, he succeeded in overcoming all
obstacles, and from point to point he made his way to where the Oxus
forks at Kila Panja. From Ishkashm to Kila Panja the valley was fairly
wide and open, and here for the first time he met those interesting
nomadic folk the Kirghiz.
Wood's observations on the people he met are always acute and
interesting, but he seems rather to have been influenced (as he admits
that he may have been) by his Badakshani guides in framing his
estimate of Kirghiz character. Thieves and liars they may be. These
characteristics are common in High Asia, but even in these particulars
they compare favourably with Uzbeks and Afghans generally. At any rate
he trusted them, and it was with their assistance that he reached the
source of the Oxus. Without them in a world of snow-covered hills and
depressions, with every halting-place buried deep and not a trace of a
track to be seen, he would have fared badly. At Kila Panja he was
faced with a difficulty which gave him anxious consideration. Could he
have guessed what issues would thereafter hang on a decision to that
momentous question--which branch of the Oxus led to its real
source--it would have caused him even greater anxiety. Ultimately he
followed the northern branch which waters the Great Pamir, and after
almost incredible exertion in floundering through snowdrifts and
scratching his way along the ice road of the river surface, on
February 19, 1838, he overlooked that long narrow expanse of frozen
water which is now known as Victoria Lake.
We may discuss the question of the source, or sources, of the Oxus
still, and trace them to the great glaciers from which the lakes north
and south of the Nicolas range are fed, or to the ice caverns of the
Hindu Kush as we please--there are many sources, and it is not in the
power of mortal man to measure their relative profundity--but Wood
still lives in geographical history as the first explorer of the upper
Oxus, and will rank with Speke and Grant as the author of a solution
to one of the great riddles of the world's hydrography. With infinite
labour he dug a hole through the ice and found the depth of the lake
at its centre to be only 9 feet. Were he to plumb it again in these
days he would find it even less, for the lake (like all Central Asian
lakes) is growing smaller and shallower year by year. The information
which he absorbed about the high regions of Asia, the Pamirs (the
Bam-i-dunya), was wonderfully correct on the whole, and is strong
evidence of his ability in sifting the mass of miscellaneous matter
with which the Asiatic usually conceals a geographical truth. He is
incorrect only in the matter of altitude, which he fixes too high by
more than a thousand feet, and he makes rather a strange mistake in
recording that the Kunar (the Chitral River) rises north of the Hindu
Kush and breaks through that range. Otherwise it would be difficult to
add to or to correct his information by the light of subsequent
surveys. With his return journey surrounded by all the enchantment of
bursting spring in those regions we need not concern ourselves. After
a three months' absence he rejoined Dr. Lord at Kunduz.
Wood's return to Kunduz was but the prelude to another journey of
exploration into the northern regions of Badakshan which, in some
respects, was the most important of all his investigations, for it is
to the information obtained on this journey that we are still indebted
for what little knowledge we possess of the general characteristics of
the Oxus valley above Termez. Dr. Lord was summoned in his medical
capacity to visit a chief at Hazrat Imam on the Oxus River, and Wood
seized the opportunity to explore the Oxus basin from Hazrat Imam
upwards through Darwaz.
Kunduz itself has been described by both authorities as a miserable
swamp-bound town, with pestilential low-lying flats stretching beyond
it towards the Oxus. This low country is, however, productive, and is
probably by this time largely reclaimed from the grass and reed beds
which covered it. Into this poisonous swamp country the Uzbek chief
had imported the wretched Badakshani Tajiks whom he had captured
during his extensive raids, for the purpose of colonizing. Wood
reckons that 100,000 people must have originally been dumped into this
swamp land, of whom barely 6000 were left when he was at Kunduz.
Between the swamp and the Oxus was a splendid stretch of prairie or
pasture land, reaching to the tangled jungle which immediately fringed
the river below the Darwaz mountains, and this naturally excited his
admiration. "Eastward" of Khulm "to the rocky barriers of Darwaz all
the high-lying portion of the valley is at this season (March) a wild
prairie of sweets, a verdant carpet enamelled with flowers"; and he
describes the "low swelling" hills fringing these plains as "soft to
the eye as the verdant sod which carpets them is to the foot." This is
very pretty, and quite accords with the general description of country
which forms part of the Oxus valley much farther west. The Oxus
jungles, however, only occur at intervals. In Wood's time (1838) they
were a thick tangle of low-growing scrub, which formed the haunts of
wild beasts which were a terror to the dwellers in the plains. Tigers
are found in those patches of Oxus jungle still. Hazrat Imam then
ranked with Zebak and Jirm as one of the most important towns of
Badakshan. East of Hazrat Imam were the traces of a gigantic canal
system with its head about Sherwan, from which point to the foot-hills
of Darwaz the river is (or was) fordable in almost any part. Wood
forded it at a point near Yang Kila, opposite Saib in Kolab, in March,
and found the river running in three channels, only one of which was
really difficult. In this one, however, the current was running 4
miles an hour and the width of the channel was about 200 yards. It was
only by uniting the forces of the party to oppose the stream that
they were able to effect the passage. Thus was Wood probably the first
European to set his foot in Kolab north of the Oxus. The river-bottom
in this part of its course is generally pebbly, and at the Sherwan
ford guns had been taken across. Near the mouth of the Kokcha (here a
sluggish muddy stream) Wood found the site of an ancient city which he
calls Barbarra, and which I think is probably the Mabara of Idrisi.
Wood's next excursion from Kunduz was by the direct high road westward
to Mazar, where he and Lord hoped to find relics of Moorcroft (in
which quest they were successful), and back again. This only confirmed
what was previously known of the facility of that route, one of the
most ancient in the world, and the attention which had been paid to it
by the construction of covered tanks (they would be called Haoz
farther west) at intervals for the convenience of travellers. The
final recall of these two explorers to Kabul afforded them the
opportunity for investigating the route which runs directly south from
Kunduz by the river valley of that name to the junction with the
Baghlan. Thence, following the Baghlan to its head, they crossed by
the Murgh Pass into the valley of Andarab, and diverging eastward they
adopted the Khawak Pass to reach the Panjshir valley, and so to Kabul.
No great difficulties were encountered on this route (which has only
been partially explored since), involving only two passes between the
Oxus and Kabul, _i.e._ the Murgh (7400 feet) which is barely mentioned
by Wood, and the Khawak (11,650 feet--Wood makes it 1500 feet higher),
and it undoubtedly possesses many advantages as the modern popular
route between Kabul and Badakshan. It is not the high-road to Mazar
(the capital of Afghan Turkistan), which will always be represented by
the Bamian route, but it must be recognised as a fairly easy means of
communication in summer between the chief fords of the Oxus and the
Kabul valley. The Greek settlements were about Baghlan and Andarab,
and undoubtedly this was the road best known to them across the Hindu
Kush, and probably as much used as the Kaoshan or Parwan passes, which
were more direct. For many centuries, however, in mediæval history the
Panjshir valley possessed such an evil reputation as the home of the
worst robbers in Asia, that a wide berth was given to it by casual
travellers. Timur Shah made good use of it for military purposes, as
we have seen, and latterly it has been improved into a fair commercial
high-road under Afghan engineers. The Panjshir inhabitants (once
Kafirs--now truculent Mohamedans) have been reduced to reason, and it
will be in the future what it has been in the ancient past--one of the
great khafila routes of Asia. When Wood crossed it in May it was not
really practicable for horses, and the party made their way across
with considerable difficulty. It is the altitude, and the altitude
alone, which renders it a formidable military barrier, and thus will
it remain as part of that great Hindu Kush wall which forms the
central obstruction of a buffer state.
Before taking leave of these two most successful (and most
trustworthy) explorers of Afghanistan, it may be useful to sum up
their views on that little-known region, Badakshan. The plains, the
useful and beautiful valleys of Badakshan, lie in the embrace of a
kind of mountain horse-shoe, which shuts them off from the Oxus on the
north-east and east and winds round to the Hindu Kush on the south.
The weak point of the semicircular barrier occurs at the junction with
the Hindu Kush, where the pass between Zebak and Ishkashm is only 8700
feet high. From the slopes of the Hindu Kush mountain torrents drain
down through the valleys of Zebak (called the Wardoj by Wood), the
Minjan (or Kokcha) and the Anjuman into the great central river of
Kokcha. Of these valleys, so far as we know, only the Wardoj is really
practicable as a northerly route to the Oxus. Shutting off the head of
the Kokcha system, a lateral range called Khoja Mahomed by Wood (a
name which ought to be preserved), in which are many magnificent
peaks, sends down its contributions north-west to the Kunduz. We know
nothing about these valleys, and Wood tells us nothing, but the
geographical inference is strong that all this part of upper
Badakshan, including the heads of the Kokcha and Kunduz affluents, is
but a wide inhospitable upland plateau of a conformation similar to
that which lies east and west of it, cut into deep furrows and
impassable gorges by the mountain streams which run thousands of feet
below the plateau level. Within it will almost certainly be traced in
due course of time the evidences of those primeval parallel folds, or
wrinkles, which form the basis of Himalayan construction. Probably the
Khoja Mahomed represents one of them, and the heads of the streams
which feed the Kokcha and the eastern affluents of the Kunduz will be
found (as already indicated in the Wardoj, or Zebak, stream) to take
their source in deep, lateral, ditch-like valleys, which, closely
underlying these folds, have been reshaped and altered by ages of
denudation and seismic destruction.
The few inhabitants who are hidden away in remote villages and hamlets
belong to the great Kafir community. This is a part of unexplored
Kafiristan rather than Badakshan, and he will be a bold man indeed who
undertakes its investigation. No Asiatic secret now held back from
view will command so much vivid interest in its unfolding as will the
ethnographical conditions of these people when we can really get at
them. This mountain region occupies a large share of Badakshan. The
rest of the plateau land to the west we know fairly well and have
sufficiently described. The wonder of the world is that the deeply
recessed valleys of it, the Bamian, Saighan, Kamard, Baghlan, and
Andarab depressions should have figured so largely in the world's
history. That a confined narrow ribbon of space such as Bamian,
difficult of access, placed by nature in the heart of a wilderness,
should have been the centre not only of a great kingdom but the focus
of a great religion, would be inexplicable if we did not remember that
through it runs the connecting link between the wealth of India and
the great cities of the Oxus plains and Central Asia.
The northern slopes and plains of Badakshan, between the mountains and
the Oxus, form part of a region which once represented the wealth of
civilization in Asia. The whole region was dotted with towns of
importance in mediæval times, and the fame of its beauty and wealth
had passed down the ages from the days of Assyria and Greece to those
of the destroying Mongol hordes. From prehistoric times nations of the
west had planted colonies in Baktria, and here are to be gathered
together the threads of so many ethnographical survivals as may be
represented by the successive Empires of the West. Baktria is the
cradle of a marvellously mixed ethnography, and to all who have seen
the weird beauty of that strange land, the fascination which it has
ever possessed for the explorer and pilgrims is no matter of surprise.
A word or two must be added here about that previous explorer
(Moorcroft) in Northern Afghanistan whose fate was ascertained by
Lord. It is most unfortunate that some of the most important
manuscripts of this unfortunate Asiatic traveller were never
recovered, but his story has been written and will be referred to in
further detail. We have direct testimony to the fate which finally
overtook him in Dr. Lord's report of his visit to Mazar-i-Sharif,
which was made with the express purpose of recovering all the records
that might be traced of Moorcroft's travels in Afghan Turkistan.
A previous story of Moorcroft is highly interesting. An early Tibetan
explorer (the celebrated Abbé Huc) told a tale of a certain Englishman
named Moorcroft, who was reported to have lived in Lhasa for twelve
years previous to the year 1838 and who was supposed to have been
assassinated on his way back to India _via_ Ladak. The story was
circumstantial and attracted considerable attention. We know now from
a memorandum of Dr. Lord written in May 1838, that in the early spring
of that year when he and Lieut. Wood visited Mazar-i-Sharif they
discovered that the German companion of Moorcroft (Trebeck) had died
in that city, leaving amongst many loose records a slip of paper, with
the date September 6, 1825, thereon, noting the fact that "Mr. M."
(Moorcroft) "died on August 27th." Dr. Lord's investigations led him
to the conclusion that Moorcroft died at Andkhui, a victim "not more
to the baneful effects of the climate than to the web of treachery and
intrigue with which he found himself surrounded and his return cut
off." Trebeck, who seems to have been held in great estimation by the
Afghans, died soon after; neither traveller leaving any substantial
account of his adventures. Moorcroft's books (thirty volumes) were
recovered, and the list of them would surprise any modern traveller
who believes in a light and handy equipment. Dr. Lord's inquiries, in
my opinion, effectually dispose of the venerable Abbé's story of
Moorcroft's residence at Lhasa; although, of course, the record of his
visit to Western Tibet and the Manasarawar Lakes earlier in the
century must have been well enough known; and the Tibetans may
possibly have believed in a reincarnation of their one and only
European visitor in their own capital.
This chapter cannot be closed without a tribute of respect to those
most able and enterprising geographers who (chiefly as assistants to
Burnes) were the means of first giving to the world a reasonable
knowledge of the geography of Afghanistan. The names of Leech, Lord,
and Wood will always remain great in geographical story, and although
none of them individually (nor, indeed, all of them collectively)
covered anything like as wide an area as the American Masson, they
effected a far greater change in the maps of the period--for Masson
was no map-maker. As regards Sir Alexander Burnes, his initiative in
all that pertained to geographical exploration was great and valuable,
but he was individually more connected with the exploitation of
Central Asian and Persian geography than with that of Afghanistan.
Previous to the year 1836, when he undertook his political mission to
Kabul (and when he was travelling over comparatively old ground), he
had already extended his journeys across the Hindu Kush to the Oxus,
Bokhara, and Persia; and the book which he published in 1834 was a
revelation in Central Asian physiography and policy. But as an
explorer in Afghanistan he owed his information chiefly to his
assistants, and undoubtedly he was splendidly well served. The
ridiculous and costly impedimenta which seemed to be recognised as a
necessary accompaniment to a campaign or "an occupation" in those
days--the magnificent tents, the elephants, wives and nurseries and
retinue of military officers--found no place whatever in the
explorers' camps. Men were content to make their way from point to
point and take their chance of native hospitality. They lived with the
people amongst whom they moved, and they gradually became almost as
much of them as with them. Perhaps their views, political and social,
became somewhat too warmly tinted with local colour by these methods,
but undoubtedly they learned more and they saw more, and they acquired
a wider, deeper sympathy with native aspirations and native character
than is possible to travellers who move _en prince_ amongst a people
who only interest them as races dominating a certain section of the
mountains and plains of a strange world. All honour to the names of
Leech, Lord, and Wood--especially Wood.
FOOTNOTE:
[12] The latest reports indicate that there is now a road fit for
motor traffic between Kabul and Afghan Turkistan, as well as between
Kabul and Badakshan.