FRENCH EXPLORATION--FERRIER
Amongst modern explorers of Afghanistan who have earned distinction by
their capacity for single-handed geographical research and ability in
recording their experiences, the French officer M. Ferrier is one of
the most interesting and one of the most disappointing. He is
interesting in all that relates to the historical and political
aspects of Afghanistan at a date when England was specially concerned
with that country, and so far and so long as his footsteps can now be
traced with certainty on our recent maps, he is clearly to be credited
with powers of accurate observation and a fairly retentive memory. It
is just where, as a geographer, he leaves the known for the unknown,
and makes a plunge into a part of the country which no European has
actually traversed before or since, that he becomes disappointing. He
is the only known wanderer from the west who has traversed the uplands
of the Firozkohi plateau from north to south; and it is just that
region of the Upper Murghab basin which our surveyors were unable to
reach during the progress of the Russo-Afghan Boundary mapping. The
rapidity of the movements of the Commission when once it got to work
precluded the possibility, with only a weak staff of topographers, of
detailing native assistants to map every corner of that most
interesting district, and naturally the more important section of the
country received the first attention. But they closed round it so
nearly as to leave but little room for pure conjecture, and it is
quite possible to verify by local evidence the facts stated by
Ferrier, if not actually to trace out his route and map it.
M. Ferrier's career was a sufficiently remarkable one. He served with
the French army in Africa, and was delegated with other officers to
organise the Persian army. Here he was regarded by the Russian
Ambassador as hostile to Russian interests, and the result was his
return to France in 1843, where he obtained no satisfaction for his
grievances. Deciding to take service with the Punjab Government under
the Regency which succeeded Ranjit Singh, he left France for Bagdad
and set out from that city in 1845 for a journey through Persia and
Afghanistan to India.
Ferrier reached Herat seven years after the siege of that place by the
Persians, and four years after the British evacuation of Afghanistan,
and his story of interviews with that wily politician, Yar Mahomed
Khan, are most entertaining. It is satisfactory to note that the
English left on the whole a good reputation behind them. His attempt
to reach Lahore _via_ Balkh and Kabul was frustrated, and he was
forced off the line of route connecting Balkh with Kabul at what was
then the Afghan frontier. It was at this period of his travels that
his records become most interesting, as he was compelled to pass
through the Hazara country to the west of Kabul by an unknown route
not exactly recognisable, crossing the Firozkohi plateau and
descending through the Taimani country to Ghur. From Ghur he was sent
back to Herat, and so ended a very remarkable tour through an
absolutely unexplored part of Afghanistan. His final effort to reach
the Punjab by the already well-worn roads which lead by Kandahar and
Shikarpur was unsuccessful. Considering the risks of the journey, it
was a surprising attempt. It was in the course of this adventure that
he came across some of the ill-starred remnants of the disasters which
attended the British arms during the evacuation of Afghanistan. There
were apparently Englishmen in captivity in other parts of Afghanistan
than the north, and the fate of those unfortunate victims to the
extraordinary combination of political and military blundering which
marked those eventful years is left to conjecture.
Such in brief outline was the story of Afghan exploration as it
concerned this gallant French officer, and from it we obtain some
useful geographical and antiquarian suggestions. The province of
Herat he regards as coincident with the Aria of the Greek historians,
and the Aria metropolis (or Artakoana) he considers might be
represented either by Kuhsan or by Herat itself. He expends a little
useless argument in refuting the common Afghan tradition that any part
of modern Herat was built by Alexander. Between the twelfth century
and the commencement of the seventeenth Herat has been sacked and
rebuilt at least seven times, and its previous history must have
involved many other radical changes since the days of Alexander. It
is, however, probable that the city has been built time after time on
the site which it now occupies, or very near it. The vast extent of
mounds and other evidences of ancient occupation to the north of it,
together with its very obvious strategic importance, give this
position a precedence in the district which could never have been
overlooked by any conqueror; but the other cities of Greek geography,
Sousa and Candace, are not so easy to place. Ferrier may be right in
his suggestion that Tous (north-west of Mashad) represents the Greek
Sousa, but he is unable to place Candace. To the west of Herat are
three very ancient sites, Kardozan, Zindajan (which Ferrier rightly
identified with the Arab city of Bouchinj), and Kuhsan, and Candace
might have stood where any of them now stand.
Ferrier's description of Herat and its environment fully sustains Sir
Henry Rawlinson's opinion of him as an observant traveller. For a
simple soldier of fortune he displays remarkable erudition, as well as
careful observation, and there is hardly a suggestion which he makes
about the Herat of 1845 which subsequent examination did not justify
in 1885. It was the custom during the residence of the English Mission
under Major d'Arcy Todd in Herat for some, at least, of the leading
Afghan chiefs to accept invitations to dinner with the English
officers, a custom which promoted a certain amount of mutual
good-fellowship between Afghans and English, of which the effects had
not worn off when Ferrier was there. When, finally, Yar Mahomed was
convinced that Ferrier had no ulterior political motive for his visit,
and was persuaded to let him proceed on his journey, a final dinner
was arranged, at which Ferrier was the principal guest. It appears to
have been a success. "At the close of the repast the guests were
incapable of sitting upright, and at two in the morning I left these
worthy Mussulmans rolling on the carpet! The following day I prepared
for my departure." In 1885 manners and methods had changed for the
better. The English officers employed on the reorganisation of the
defences of the city were occasionally entertained at modest
tea-parties by the Afghan military commandant, but no such rollicking
proceedings as those recounted by Ferrier would ever have been
countenanced; and it must be confessed that Ferrier's accounts, both
here and elsewhere, of the social manners and customs of the Afghan
people are a little difficult to accept without reservation. We must,
however, make allowances for the times and the loose quality of Afghan
government. He left Herat by the northerly route, passing Parwana, the
Baba Pass, and the Kashan valley to Bala Murghab and Maimana.
Ferrier has much to say that is interesting about the tribal
communities through which he passed, especially about the Chahar
Aimak, or wandering tent-living tribes, which include the Hazaras,
Jamshidis, Taimanis, and Firozkohis. He is, I think, the first to draw
attention to the fact that the Firozkohis are of Persian origin, a
people whose forefathers were driven by Tamerlane into the mountains
south of Mazanderan, and were eventually transported into the Herat
district. They spring from several different Persian tribes, and take
the name Firozkohi from "a village in the neighbourhood of which they
were surrounded and captured." The origin of the name Ferozkohi has
always been something of a geographical puzzle, and it is doubtful
whether there was ever a city originally of that name in Afghanistan,
although it may have been applied to the chief habitat of this
agglomeration of Persian refugees and colonists.
Ferrier's account of his progress includes no geographical data worthy
of remark. Politically, this part of Afghan Turkistan has remained
much the same during the last seventy years, and geographically one
can only say that his account of the route is generally correct,
although it indicates that it is compiled from memory. For instance,
there is a steep watershed to be crossed between Torashekh and Mingal,
but it is not of the nature of a "rugged mountain," nor could there
have ever been space enough for the extent of cultivation which he
describes in the Murghab valley. He is very much at fault in his
description of the road from Nimlik (which he calls Meilik) to Balkh.
The hills are on the right (not left) of the road, and are much higher
than those previously described as rugged mountains. No water from
these hills could possibly reach the road, for there is a canal
between them, the overflow of which, however, might possibly swamp the
road. Balkh hardly responds to his description of it. There is no
mosque to the north of Balkh, nor is the citadel square.
The road from Khulm to Bamian passes through Tashkurghan (which is due
east of Mazar--not south) and Haibak, and changes very much in
character before reaching Haibak. From Haibak to Kuram the description
of the road is fairly correct, but no amount of research on the part
of later surveyors has revealed the position of "Kartchoo" (which
apparently means locally a market); nor could Ferrier possibly have
encountered snow in July on any part of this route, even if he saw
any. We must, however, consider the conditions under which he was
travelling, and make allowances for the impossibility of keeping
anything of the nature of a systematic record. At Kuram, a well-known
point above Haibak on the road to Kabul, he reached the Uzbek
frontier. Beyond this point--into Afghanistan--no Uzbek would venture,
and it was impossible to proceed farther on the direct route to Kabul.
Yielding to the pressure of friendly advice, he made a retrograde
detour to Saripul, through districts occupied by Hazaras, and
"Kartchoo" was but a nomadic camp that he encountered during his first
day out from Kuram. Clearly he was making for the Yusuf Darra route to
Saripul; and his next camp, Dehao, marks the river. It may possibly be
the point marked Dehi on modern maps. At Saripul he was not only well
received by the Uzbek Governor, Mahomed Khan, but the extraordinary
influence which this man possessed with the Hazaras, Firozkohis, and
other Aimak tribes of northern Afghanistan enabled Ferrier to procure
food and horses at irregular stages which carried him to Ghur in the
Taimani land.
It is this part of Ferrier's journey which is so tantalizing and so
difficult to follow. He must have travelled both far and fast. Leaving
Saripul on July 11, he rode "ten parasangs," over country very varied
in character, to Boodhi. Now this country has been surveyed, and there
can be no reasonable doubt about the route he took southwards. But no
such place as Boodhi has ever been identified, nor have the
remarkable sculptures which were observed _en route_, fashioned on an
"enormous block of rock," been found again, although careful inquiries
were made about them. They may, of course, have been missed, and
information may have been purposely withheld, for geographical surveys
do not permit of lengthy halts for inquiry on any line of route.
Ferrier's description of them is so full of detail that it is
difficult to believe that it is imaginary. He mentions that on the
plain on which Boodhi stood, "two parasangs to the right," there were
the "ruins of a large town," which might very possibly be the ruins
identified by Imam Sharif (a surveyor of the Afghan Boundary
Commission), and which would fix the position of "Boodhi" somewhere
near Belchirag on the main route southward to Ghur. Belchirag is about
55 miles from Saripul. The next day's ride must have carried him into
the valley of the Upper Murghab on the Firozkohi plateau, crossing the
Band-i-Turkistan _en route_, and it was here that he met with such a
remarkable welcome at the fortress of Dev Hissar.
Ferrier describes the valley of the Upper Murghab in terms of rapture
which appear to be a trifle extravagant to those who know that
country. No systematic survey of it, however, has ever been possible,
and to this day the position of Dev Hissar is a matter of conjecture,
and the charming manners of its inhabitants (so unlike the ordinary
rough hospitality of the men and the unobtrusive character of the
women of the Firozkohi Aimak) are experiences such as our surveyors
sighed for in vain! As a mere guess, I should be inclined to place Dev
Hissar near Kila Gaohar, or to identify it with that fort. At any
rate, I prefer this solution of the puzzle to the suggestion that Dev
Hissar and its delightful inhabitants, like the previous sculptures,
were but an effort of imagination on the part of this volatile and
fascinating Frenchman.
There is always an element of suspicion as to the value of Ferrier's
information when he deals with the feminine side of Hazara human
nature. For instance, he asserts that the Hazara women fight in their
tribal battles side by side with their husbands. This is a feature in
their character for independence which the Hazara men absolutely deny,
and it is hardly necessary to add that no confirmation could be
obtained anywhere of the remarkable familiarity with which the ladies
of Hissar are said by Ferrier customarily to treat their guests.
The next long day's ride terminated at Singlak (another unknown
place), which was found deserted owing to a feud between the Hazaras
and Firozkohis. It was evidently within the Murghab basin and short of
the crest of the line of watershed bordering the Hari Rud valley on
the north, for the following day Ferrier crossed these hills, and the
Hari Rud valley beneath them (avoiding Daolatyar), at a point which he
fixes as "six parasangs S.W. of Sheherek." Again it is impossible to
locate the position. Kila Safarak is at the head of the Hari Rud, and
Kila Shaharak is in another valley (that of the Tagao Ishlan), so that
it will perhaps be safe to assume that it was nowhere near either of
these places, but at a point some 10 miles west of Daolatyar, which
marks the regular route for Ghur from the north.
Ferrier's description of this part of his journey is vague and
unsatisfactory. No such place as Kohistani, "situated on a high plain
in the midst of the Siah Koh," is known any more than is Singlak. The
divide, or ridge, which he crossed in passing from the Murghab valley
to the narrow trough of the Hari Rud is lower than the hills on the
south of the river. He could not possibly have crossed snow nor
overlooked the landscape to Saripul. It is doubtful if Chalapdalan,
the mountain which impressed him so mightily, is visible from any part
of the broken watershed north of the Hari Rud. Chalapdalan is only
13,600 feet high, and there would have been no snow on it in July. As
we proceed farther we fail to identify Ferrier's Tingelab River,
unless he means the Ab-i-lal. The Hari Rud does not flow through
Shaharak, and no one has found a village called Jaor in the Hari Rud
valley. Continuing to cross the Band-i-Baian (which he calls Siah
Koh) from Kohistani Baba, a very long day's ride brought him to
Deria-dereh, also called "Dereh Mustapha Khan," which was evidently a
place of importance and the headquarters of a powerful section of
either Hazaras or Taimanis under a Chief, Mustapha Khan. Here, in a
small oblong valley entirely closed by mountains, was a little lake of
azure colour and transparent clearness which lay like a vast gem
embedded in surrounding verdure ... "around which were somewhat
irregularly pitched a number of Taimani tents, separated from each
other by little patches of cultivation and gardens enclosed by stone
walls breast high.... The luxuriance of the vegetation in this valley
might compare with any that I had ever seen in Europe. On the summits
of the surrounding mountains were several ruins, etc. etc." Ash and
oak trees were there. Fishermen were dragging the lake, women were
leading flocks to the water, and young girls sat outside the tents
weaving bereks (barak, or camel-hair cloth), and contentment was
depicted on every face.
From Deria-dereh another long day's ride brought him to Zirni, which
he describes as the ancient capital of Ghur. From the Band-i-Baian (or
Koh Siah, as he calls it) to Zirni is at least 100 miles by the very
straightest road, and that would pass by Taiwara. It is clear that he
did not take that road, or he could hardly have ignored so important a
position as Taiwara. If he made a detour eastward he would pass
through Hazara country--very mountainous, very high and difficult,
and the length of the two days' journey would be nearer 150 miles than
100. To the first day's journey (as far as Deria-dereh) he gives ten
hours on horseback, which in that country might represent 60 miles;
but no such place as he describes, no lake with Arcadian surroundings,
has been either seen or heard of by subsequent surveyors within the
recognized limits of Taimani country. If it exists at all, it is to
the east of the great watershed from which spring the Ghur River and
the Farah Rud, hidden within the spurs of the Hazara mountains. This
is just possible, for this wild and weatherbeaten country has not been
so fully reconnoitred as that farther west; but it makes Ferrier's
journey extraordinary for the distances covered, and fully accounts
for the fact that he has preserved so little detail of this eventful
ride that, practically, there is nothing of geographical interest to
be learnt from it.
Ferrier's description of the ruins which are to be found in the
neighbourhood of Zirni and Taiwara, especially his reference to a
"paved" road leading towards Ghazni, is very interesting. He is fully
impressed with the beauty of the surrounding country, and what he has
to say about this centre of an historical Afghan kingdom has been more
or less confirmed by subsequent explorers. Only the "Ghebers" have
disappeared; and the magnificent altitude of the "Chalap Dalan"
mountain, described by him as one of the "highest in the world," has
been reduced to comparatively humble proportions. Its isolated
position, however, undoubtedly entitles it to rank as a remarkable
geographical feature.
At Zirni Ferrier found that his further progress towards Kandahar was
arrested, and from that point, to his bitter disgust, he was compelled
to return to Herat. From Zirni to Herat was, in his day, an unmapped
region, and he is the first European to give us even a glimpse of that
once well-trodden highway. His conjectures about the origin of the
Aimak tribes which people Central Afghanistan are worthy of study, as
they are based on original inquiry from the people themselves; but it
is very clear that either time has modified the manners of these
people, or that popular sources of information are not always to be
trusted. He repeats the story of the fighting propensities of Hazara
women when dealing with the Taimanis, and adds, as regards the latter,
that "a girl does not marry until she has performed some feat of
arms." It may be that "feats of arms" are not so easy of achievement
in these days, but it is certain that such an inducement to marry
would fail to be effective now. It might even prove detrimental to a
girl's chances.
Once again we can only regard with astonishment Ferrier's record of a
ride from "Tarsi" (Parsi) to Herat, at least 90 miles, in one night. A
district Chief told Captain (now Colonel) the Hon. M. G. Talbot, who
conducted the surveys of the country in 1883, that "a good Taimani on
a good horse" might accomplish the feat, but that nobody else could.
Ferrier, with his considerable escort, seemed to have found no
difficulty, but undoubtedly he was in excellent training. His general
description of the country that he passed through accords with the
pace at which he swept through it, and nothing is to be gained by
criticising his hasty observations. At Herat he was fortunate in
securing the consent of Yar Mahomed Khan to his project for reaching
the Punjab _via_ Kandahar and Kabul; and with letters from that wily
potentate to the Amir Dost Mahomed Khan and his son-in-law Mahomed
Akbar Khan this "Lord of the Kingdom of France, General Ferrier" set
out on another attempt to reach India. In this he was unsuccessful,
and his path was a thorny one. He travelled by the road which had been
adopted as the post-road between Herat and Kandahar, during the
residence of the English Mission at Herat--a route which, leaving
Farah to the west, approaches Kandahar by Washir and Girishk, and
which is still undoubtedly the most direct road between the two
capitals. But the particularly truculent character of the Durani
Afghan tribes of Western Afghanistan rendered this journey most
dangerous for a single European moving without an armed escort, and he
was robbed and maltreated with fiendish persistency. It was a
well-known and much-trodden old road, but it has always been, and it
is still, about the worst road in all Afghanistan for the fanatical
unpleasantness of its Achakzai and Nurzai environment.
After leaving Washir Ferrier was imprisoned at Mahmudabad, and again
when he reached Girishk, and the story of the treatment he received at
both places says much for the natural soundness of his constitution.
Luckily he fell in with a friendly Munshi who had been in English
service, who, whilst warning Ferrier that he might consider the
position of his head on his shoulders as "wonderfully shaky," did a
good deal to dissipate the notion that he was an English spy, and
helped him through what was indeed a very tight place. It was at this
point of his journey that Ferrier heard of an English prisoner in
Zamindawar,--a traveller with "green eyes and red hair,"--and the fact
that he actually received a note from this man (which he could not
read as it was written in English) seems to confirm that fact. He
could do nothing to help him, and no one knows what may have been the
ultimate fate of this unfortunate captive.
Ferrier is naturally indignant with Sir Alexander Burnes for
describing the Afghans as "a sober, simple steady people" (Burnes'
_Travels in Bokhara_, vol. i. pp. 143, 144). How Burnes could ever
have arrived at such an extraordinary estimate of Afghan character is
hard to imagine, and it says little for those perceptive faculties for
which Masson has such contempt. But it not inaptly points the great
contrast that does really exist between the Kabuli and the Kandahari
to this day. When the English officers of the Afghan Boundary
Commission in 1883 were occupied in putting Herat into a state of
defence, their personal escort was carefully chosen from soldiers of
the northern province, who, by no means either "sober or simple," were
at any rate far less fanatical and truculent than the men of the west,
and they were, on the whole, a pleasant and friendly contingent to
deal with.
At Girishk, and subsequently, Ferrier has certain geographical facts
of interest to record. Some of them still want verification, but they
are valuable indications. He notes the immense ruins and mounds on
both sides the Helmund at Girishk. He was in confinement at Girishk
for eight days, where he suffered much from "the vermin which I could
not prevent from getting into my clothes, and the rattling of my
inside from the scantiness of my daily ration." However, his trials
came to an end at last, and he left Girishk "with a heart full of
hatred for its inhabitants and a lively joy at his departure," fording
the Helmund at some little distance from the town. He remarks on the
vast ruins at Kushk-i-Nakhud, where there is a huge artificial mound.
A similar one exists at Sangusar, about 3 miles south-east of
Kushk-i-Nakhud. At Kandahar the final result of a short residence that
was certainly full of lively incident, and an interview with the
Governor Kohendil Khan (brother of the Amir Dost Mahomed), was a
return to Girishk. This must have been sickening; but it resulted in a
series of excursions into Baluch territory which are not
uninstructive. The ill-treatment (amounting to the actual infliction
of torture) which Ferrier endured at the hands of the Girishk Governor
(Sadik Khan, a son of Kohendil Khan) on this second visit to Girishk,
was even worse than the first, and it was only by signing away his
veracity and giving a false certificate of friendship with the brute
that he finally got free again. He was to follow the Helmund to Lash
Jowain in Seistan, but the attempt was frustrated by a local
disturbance at Binadur, on the Helmund. So far, however, this abortive
excursion was of certain geographical interest as covering new ground.
The places mentioned by Ferrier _en route_ are all still in existence,
but he gives no detailed account of them.
Once more a start was made from Girishk, and this time our explorer
succeeded in reaching Farah by the direct route through Washir. It was
in the month of October, and the fiery heat of the Bakwa plain was
sufficiently trying even to this case-hardened Frenchman. About Farah
he has much to say that still requires confirmation. Of the exceeding
antiquity of this place there is ample evidence; but no one since
Ferrier has identified the site of the second and later town of Farah
"an hour" farther north or "half an hour" from the Farah Rud (river),
where bricks were seen "three feet long and four inches thick," with
inscriptions on them in cuneiform character, amidst the ruins. This
town was abandoned in favour of the older (and present) site when Shah
Abbas the Great besieged and destroyed it, but there can be no doubt
that the bricks seen by Ferrier must have possessed an origin long
anterior to the town, which only dates from the time of Chenghiz Khan.
The existence of such evidence of the ancient and long-continued
connection between Assyria and Western Afghanistan would be
exceedingly interesting were it confirmed by modern observation. Farah
is by all accounts a most remarkable town, and it undoubtedly contains
secrets of the past which for interest could only be surpassed by
those of Balkh. At Farah Ferrier was lodged in a "hole over the north
gate of the town, open to the violent winds of Seistan, which rushed
in at eight enormous holes, through which also came the rays of the
sun." Here wasps, scorpions, and mice were his companions, and it must
be admitted that Ferrier's account of the horrors of Farah residence
have been more or less confirmed by all subsequent travellers to
Seistan. But he finally succeeded in obtaining, through the not
inhospitable governor, the necessary permission from Yar Mahomed Khan
of Herat (whose policy in his dealings with Ferrier it is quite
impossible to decipher) to pass on to Shikarpur and Sind; and the
permission is couched in such pious and affectionate terms, that the
"very noble, very exalted, the companion of honour, of fortune, and of
happiness, my kind friend, General Ferrier," really thought there was
a chance of escaping from his clutches. He was, by the way, invited
back again to Herat, but he was told that he might please himself.
Here follows a most interesting exploration into a stretch of
territory then utterly unreconnoitred and unknown, and it is
unfortunate that this most trying route through the flats and wastes
which stretch away eastwards of the Helmund lagoons should still be
but sketchily indicated in our maps. It is, however, from Farah to
Khash (where the Khash Rud is crossed), and from Khash to the Helmund,
but a track through a straight region of desolation and heat,
relieved, however (like the desert region to the south of the
Helmund), by strips of occasional tamarisk vegetation, where grass is
to be found in the spring and nomads collect with their flocks.
Watering-places might be developed here by digging wells, and the
route rendered practicable across the Dasht-i-Margo as it has been
between Nushki and Seistan, but when Ferrier crossed it it was a
dangerous route to attempt on tired and ill-fed horses. The existence
of troops of wild asses was sufficient evidence of its life-supporting
capabilities if properly developed. Ferrier struck the Helmund about
Khan Nashin. Here a most ill-timed and ill-advised fight with a Baluch
clan ended in a disastrous flight of the whole party down the Helmund
to Rudbar, and it would perhaps be unkind to criticise too closely the
heroics of this part of Ferrier's story.
At Rudbar Ferrier again noticed bricks a yard square in an old dyke,
whilst hiding. Rudbar was well known to the Arab geographers, but this
record of Ferrier's carries it back (and with it the course of the
Helmund) to very ancient times indeed. Continuing to follow the river,
they passed Kala-i-Fath and reached "Poolka"--a place which no longer
exists under that name. This is all surveyed country; but no
investigator since Ferrier has observed the same ancient bricks at
Kala-i-Fath which Ferrier noted there as at Farah and Rudbar. There is
every probability, however, of their existence. All this part of the
Helmund valley abounds in antiquities which are as old as Asiatic
civilization, but nothing short of systematic antiquarian exploration
will lead to further discoveries of any value.
Ferrier was now in Seistan, and we may pass over his record of
interesting observations on the wealth of antiquarian remains which
surrounded him. It is enough to point out that he was one of the first
to call public attention to them from the point of view of actual
contact. It must be accepted as much to the credit of Ferrier's
narrative that the latest surveys of Seistan (_i.e._ those completed
during the work of the Commission under Sir H. MacMahon in 1903-5)
entirely support the account given in his _Caravan Journeys_ as he
wandered through that historic land. By the light of the older maps,
completed during the Afghan Boundary Commission some twenty years
previously, it would have been difficult to have traced his steps. We
know now that the lake of Seistan should, with all due regard to its
extraordinary capacity for expansion and contraction, be represented
as in MacMahon's map, extending southwards to a level with the great
bend of the Helmund. Ferrier's narrative very conclusively illustrates
this position of it, and proves that such an expansion must be
regarded as normal. We can no longer accurately locate the positions
of Pulaki and Galjin, but from his own statements it seems more than
probable that the first place is already sand-buried. They were not
far north of Kala-i-Fath. From there he went northward to Jahanabad,
and north-west (not south-west) to Jalalabad. It was at Jahanabad that
he nearly fell into the hands of Ali Khan, the chief of Chakhansur
(Sheikh Nassoor of Ferrier), the scoundrel who had previously murdered
Dr. Forbes and hung his body up to be carefully watered and watched
till it fell to pieces in gold ducats. There was an unfortunate
superstition current in Baluchistan to the effect that this was the
normal end of European existence! Luckily it has passed away. Escaping
such a calamity, he turned the lake at its southern extremity,
passing through Sekoha, and travelled up its western banks till, after
crossing the Harat Rud, he reached Lash Jowain. From here to Farah and
from Farah once again to Herat, his road was made straight for him,
and we need only note what he has to say about the extent of the ruins
near Sabzawar to be convinced that here was the mediæval provincial
capital of Parwana. At Herat he was enabled to do what would have
saved him a most adventurous journey (and lost us the pleasure of
recording his work as that of a notable explorer of Afghanistan),
_i.e._ take the straight road back to Teheran from whence he came.
With this we may bid adieu to Ferrier, but it is only fair to do tardy
justice to his remarkable work. I confess that after the regions of
Central Afghanistan had been fairly well reconnoitred by the surveyors
of the Russo-Afghan Boundary Commission, considerable doubt remained
in my mind as to the veracity of Ferrier's statements. I still think
he was imposed upon now and then by what he _heard_, but I have little
doubt that he adhered on the whole (and the conditions under which he
travelled must be remembered) to a truthful description of what he
_saw_. It is true that there still remains wanting an explanation of
his experiences at that restful island in the sea of difficulty and
danger which surrounded him--Dev Hissar--but I have already pointed
out that it may exist beyond the limits of actual subsequent
observation; and as regards the stupendous bricks with cuneiform
inscription, it can only be said that their existence in the
localities which he mentions has been rendered so probable by recent
investigation, that nothing short of serious and systematic
excavation, conducted in the spirit which animated the discovery of
Nineveh, will finally disprove this most interesting evidence of the
extreme antiquity of the cities of Afghanistan, and their relation to
the cities of Mesopotamia.