CHAPTER V

IN CANDAHAR

On the 15th of September Angus started, after a tearful farewell

from his Armenian friends. Their gratitude to him and Pottinger was

unbounded. The presence and influence of their two English guests had

preserved them from the rapacity and cruelty of the wuzeer, while all

other merchants and traders in the town had been maltreated and robbed,

and in many cases had died under the tortures inflicted to wring from

them treasures it was believed they possessed. Kajar and his brother

and their families alone enjoyed an immunity from persecution. Both

had determined that they would leave Herat, and taking with them their

workmen, establish themselves at Teheran or Tabriz, where the profit of

their work might be less, but they would at least be able to enjoy it

in security, such as could never be hoped for as long as Yar Mahomed

was the virtual ruler of Herat.

The period that had elapsed since Angus left Teheran had changed him

much. He was no longer a boy, for he had been doing man's work. He was

now nearly eighteen years old, and had attained his full height of

nearly six feet. His illness had pulled him down much, and sharpened

his features, and except for his lighter colour, he really more

closely resembled an Afghan than the Persian trader he was dressed to

represent. The pallor caused by his illness had been succeeded by a

deep tan, caused by his passing so many hours daily in the sun during

his convalescence.

"I am glad to be out of Herat," Azim said, as he looked back at the

walls.

"So am I, Azim. I thought at one time that I was never coming out at

all."

"It is a very bad place, master. In Persia the governors squeeze the

people a bit, and sometimes there is much grumbling, but the worst of

them are very much better than Yar Mahomed, who is a son of Sheitan,

whom may Allah confound."

"He is a scoundrel," Angus agreed heartily. "I wonder myself that the

people of Herat have not long since risen and torn him to pieces. I

know that if I had been a merchant there I should have tried to stir

them up to do it."

Azim shook his head. "They cannot trust each other, effendi. There are

many who would like to do as you have said, but there are many who

cannot trust their own neighbours."

"Then I would do it myself. Look how many old men were tortured to

death; some of them must have had sons. Had my father been so tortured

I would have lain in wait for the wuzeer day after day in some empty

house--there are plenty of them in one of the streets by which he

usually went from his palace to the walls--and as he rode past I would

have put a bullet in his head. I would then have escaped from the back

of the house if possible. No one would have seen who had fired the

shot, and I should have been safe if once away. If I were overtaken I

would put a pistol to my head, so as to avoid being tortured to death.

I cannot understand thirty or forty thousand people continuing to

support the rule of a tyrant, when one bold man could put an end to

it."

Once on his way Angus felt new life in his veins, and in a week he had

entirely shaken off the feeling of lassitude that had oppressed him in

the poisoned air of Herat, and felt equal to any ordinary exertion. As

he had expected, he met with no difficulties whatever on his way, for

on the road between Herat and Candahar the Afghans were accustomed to

see Persian traders passing, and no suspicion whatever was felt that

Angus and his attendant were other than they represented themselves

to be. The journey was a long one, but Angus did not hurry. It was

pleasant to him, after being for a year cooped up in the besieged

city, to travel quietly in the fresh mountain air. The scenery was all

new to him, and though Azim felt the cold a good deal, Angus enjoyed

it immensely. He made short stages, and never exceeded twenty miles

a day, and often, when he arrived at a village which offered fair

accommodation, he was content to stay when only fourteen or fifteen

had been traversed. As this was the great high-road of trade there

were khans in almost every village, and there was no difficulty in

purchasing the necessaries of life. Everywhere the talk was of war.

Once beyond the territory over which Shah Mahomed ruled, the news that

the Persians had failed to take Herat and had retired had excited

regret. It had been regarded as certain that the place would fall,

and all had anticipated the march of a Persian and Russian army to

Candahar, to be followed by a grand invasion of India. The mountaineers

had felt sure that the army would gladly pay whatever was demanded for

permission to pass unmolested; that they would be ready to pay high

prices for provisions and the hire of transport animals, so that they

would enrich themselves in the first place, and then have a chance of

sharing in the plunder of India, and the destruction of the infidels.

Angus was appealed to by all with whom he conversed to explain how it

was that the Shah with his great army had failed to take Herat. He was

eagerly questioned, too, with regard to Russia, a country of which they

had heard many strange rumours. Were they very strong? were they really

in alliance with Persia? were they infidels? if so, how was it that the

Shah was friendly with them?

To the first of these questions Angus could only reply that, not having

been in the Persian camp, he was unable to give them information. There

were certainly Russian generals and officers leading the Persians at

the siege of Herat. They were infidels, and neighbours of the Persians.

For himself, he thought that while no doubt the Shah wished to be at

peace with such powerful neighbours, he would be wise not to trust them

very far. He could not really wish for them to become more powerful,

and if they aided him, it could only be for their own objects. As a

peaceful man he himself only desired to trade, and left these matters

to wiser heads. But at the same time he knew that Russia was constantly

extending its dominions at the expense of its neighbours; and that,

as it was a Christian country, it certainly could not be thinking of

invading India for the benefit of the Mohammedans of that country, or

those of Afghanistan--certainly not those of Persia. Whatever the Shah

and the military officers might think, the trading classes were uneasy

at the influence that Russia was gaining, and apprehensive of the

growing power and proximity of a neighbour possessed of such immense

forces, and of ambitious views.

Two months after leaving Herat Angus entered Candahar. The journey

had been wholly without any incident of importance. The appearance of

Candahar somewhat resembled that of Herat. Situated in a fertile plain,

with a range of craggy hills at no great distance, and surrounded by

a wall, it was incapable of offering any prolonged resistance to the

attack of a European force provided with siege artillery. The town was

a comparatively modern one, being founded in 1754 on the site of an

ancient city. It was built on a regular plan, the streets all crossing

each other at right angles. Like Herat, it had four principal streets

meeting in the centre, each of these 150 feet wide, and lined with

shops. Streams of water ran down almost every street.

The town made a very favourable impression on Angus after the ruin

and dirt of Herat. As a Persian he felt at home here, for Persian

inscriptions and names met his eye everywhere, as throughout

Afghanistan the whole of the trade is carried on by Persians or by

natives of India, the Afghans themselves deeming the profession of arms

the only one honourable. The upper classes among them all habitually

spoke Persian; which language was generally employed in writing and in

all official communications. Angus put up at a khan which he learned

was frequented by traders passing through the city, and soon made the

acquaintance of several merchants lodging there. From them he learned

much more of the state of affairs than he had gathered in the Afghan

villages he had passed through on the journey. The English were, it was

said, gathering a great army in Scinde with the intention of placing

Shah Soojah on the throne of Afghanistan instead of Dost Mahomed.

Of all the blunders that have been committed from the time of our

first arrival in India, none is comparable, in point of injustice,

hopeless blundering, or misfortune, to the policy thus inaugurated in

Afghanistan. Shah Soojah was the head of the Dooranee tribe, and had

been overthrown by the Barukzyes, who had gradually attained a power

which the Dooranee monarch was unable to withstand. The four princes

of that tribe divided the kingdom between themselves, and after waging

many wars against each other Dost Mahomed, the youngest of the four

brothers, became ruler of Cabul. During these wars Peshawur had been

captured by the great Sikh ruler, Runjeet Sing. In 1834 Shah Soojah

made an effort to recover his kingdom, but was defeated, and again

became a fugitive in British India.

Dost Mahomed, alarmed at the preparations made by the Sikhs for

still further dismembering his country, and by the fact that his

two brothers, who were Lords of Candahar, might at any moment take

advantage of his troubles with the Sikhs to throw off his authority

altogether, was anxious to enter into an alliance with the British,

all the more so as he had learned of the ever-increasing influence of

Russia in Persia. Lord Auckland sent Captain Burnes to Cabul; nominally

his purpose was to arrange for a larger commercial intercourse between

the two countries. He was received with great honour in Cabul, but he

had come altogether unprovided with the customary presents, and Dost

Mahomed reasonably felt this as a studied slight. Nevertheless he

exerted himself to the utmost to obtain the alliance of the British.

But Burnes had no authority whatever to treat with him, and could give

him no assurances that aid would be forthcoming if, on the fall of

Herat, which was considered certain, the Persians and Russians, aided

by the Candahar chiefs, who were known to be in correspondence with

them, were to invade his territory. Nor could he obtain any promise

that the British would use their influence with Runjeet Sing to restore

Peshawur.

Burnes saw how sincere was the desire of the Ameer for a close

friendship with England, and wrote strongly to Lord Auckland in favour

of an alliance with him. He pointed out that Dost Mahomed was firmly

seated at Cabul, where he had reigned for ten years, that Shah Soojah

had no adherents, and even if placed on the throne could not maintain

himself there. Colonel Pottinger, the resident in Scinde, also gave the

same advice, but Lord Auckland paid no attention whatever to their

representations. A weak man, he was guided chiefly by Mr. Macnaghten,

his secretary, a comparatively young man, with great ambition and

an unbounded belief in himself, but, as events proved, with few of

the qualities required in a man placed in a highly responsible and

difficult position in India. Burnes was instructed to insist upon the

Ameer's binding himself to make no alliances whatever without the

consent of England, and at the same time he was to refuse to give any

pledges in return for such a concession.

A more preposterous demand was never made upon an independent

sovereign. For a long time the Ameer strove in vain to obtain some sort

of conditions, and at length, finding this hopeless, he threw himself

into the arms of the Russian agent, whom he had hitherto treated with

great coldness. Burnes's position became intolerable, and he was

recalled; and Lord Auckland at once prepared to place Shah Soojah on

the throne by force. Runjeet Sing was asked to join in the undertaking,

and at a great durbar held in the Punjaub, the conditions were

arranged, under which Shah Soojah was to pay a large amount to Runjeet

as well as to the British for the aid they were to give him. As if it

was not enough to have united all Afghanistan against us, the people of

Scinde, who had hitherto been on good terms with us, were treated as if

they were enemies. They were ordered to furnish provisions and carriage

for the army, and to pay large sums of money, although they had, by the

terms of a treaty with us, been guaranteed against any claim whatever

for money or services. It would seem, indeed, that Lord Auckland and

Mr. Macnaghten had neglected no step whatever that could ensure the

failure of their enterprise. When, after the war, the papers relating

to the policy that had occasioned it were published in the form of

a blue-book, it is significant that the passages in the letters of

Burnes and Pottinger remonstrating against the course proposed by Lord

Auckland were suppressed, dishonesty being thus added to the terrible

blunders of the weakest and most obstinate of the governor-generals of

India--blunders that caused not only the utter destruction of a British

army, but led to an almost equally unjust war for the conquest of

Scinde.

As far as Angus could learn the Candahar princes were making no

preparations whatever to take part in the war. The general idea was

that they would gladly see Dost Mahomed overthrown and Shah Soojah

placed on the throne, feeling certain that the latter would not be able

to retain his position, and that they would have a far better chance of

becoming masters of the whole of Afghanistan then than they could have

so long as their brother remained on the throne. Three days after his

arrival an officer from the palace called upon Angus and requested him

to accompany him there, as the princes wished to question him as to the

reasons for the Persians retiring from before Herat. On arriving at the

palace he was shown into a small chamber, where Kihur-el-Khan, with two

of his brothers, was sitting.

"I have heard that you have arrived here, and that you passed by Herat

just as your Shah had left with his army."

"That is so, Prince," Angus said, bowing deeply.

"You have come hither for purposes of trade? From what city do you

come?"

"From Tabriz. I represent one of the largest merchants there." And

he mentioned the name of a well-known trader. "When I left it was

considered certain that Herat would speedily be captured, and that

the Shah would move forward here, having, it was said, entered into

an alliance with you. 'Therefore,' my patron said to me, 'go you to

Candahar. Doubtless, in future, trade with Northern India will go by

that route instead of by sea, and Candahar will be a mighty centre

of trade. Therefore go and see for yourself what are the prospects,

and the price at which goods can be carried from the present frontier

to that city and thence into Scinde. Find out for me whether there

are any hindrances to trade along the road, what are the charges for

permission to travel through the passes held by various tribes, and the

disposition of the people towards traders.'"

"How was it that you did not turn back when you found that your army

was retiring without having captured Herat?"

"I thought it best still to go on as I had come so far," Angus replied.

"The Shah, it is true, was retiring, but he might return in the spring;

and I could not doubt that with your powerful friendship he would the

next time succeed, and the information that I should gain would enable

my patron to send off without delay a large caravan of merchandise if

he found it expedient to do so."

"Were you in the Persian camp?"

"No, your highness. An army when it is retiring is best avoided by

peaceful men. When all goes well the camp officers see that traders

are not meddled with by the soldiers, but when things are not going

favourably and there is discontent in camp, discipline is relaxed,

and it is useless for those who are robbed or maltreated to make

complaints."

"That is no doubt true, but doubtless you heard a good deal from those

who have been in the camp. How did men say it was that they failed to

capture Herat, which is but a weak town?"

"Some say one thing and some another, your highness. Some declare that

had it not been for a British officer who happened to be there the

place would have fallen in a very short time. Others say that it could

have been taken easily had all the Persian generals been of one mind,

but that each acted for himself, and that only once did all attack at

the same time."

The Prince nodded. He had seen very many times the evil of divided

counsels, and knew how necessary it was that there should be a strong

leader who could make himself obeyed by all.

"And what do people say about the Russians? We know that they had

officers there. We hear that they are a great people, and are good

friends with Persians."

"Opinions are divided, Prince. There are those who believe that their

friendship will indeed be a great advantage to Persia. There are

others, especially among the trading class, who think otherwise, and

believe that Russia is too strong to be a real friend, and that it

would be far better to maintain a close alliance with England, which

would support them against Russia, and which lies so far away across

the seas that it could gain nothing by meddling in her affairs or

taking her territory."

"But it is reported that it is the English who have now interfered and

have saved Herat, and are sending a fleet and an army to compel Persia

to desist."

"That is what was reported and generally believed, Prince, but I cannot

say how truly; I merely heard the common talk on the way."

"But why should England have interfered? What does it matter to them

whether Herat belongs to Persia or to the Suddozye, Prince Kamran."

"According to the opinion of the traders in Tabriz, England would not

have cared at all had Persia been strong and been fighting only for the

conquest of Herat, but it was known that England regards with great

jealousy the approach of Russia to India, and considers that as Persia

was certainly acting under the influence of Russia, it was the latter

who would be the real masters of Herat, and not the Persians. Then,

too, it was said--though we know that rumour often lies--that Russia

and Persia had many friends in Afghanistan, and that the conquest of

Herat would only be the first step to further advances south."

Kihur-el-Khan frowned. Such an undertaking had certainly been made by

him and his brothers, but the retreat of the Persians from Herat at

the dictation of the English, and the fact that the latter were now

gathering an army with the avowed purpose of placing Shah Soojah on the

throne of Afghanistan, gravely altered the position. They had no love

for their brother, and had a British force advanced through the Khyber

passes to Cabul, and placed Shah Soojah on the throne, they would

certainly have rendered no assistance to Dost Mahomed, for they felt

sure that Soojah would not be able to maintain himself, and saw that

there was a good chance that in the confusion which would prevail, they

themselves might obtain the mastery of Cabul. But as the English army

was evidently intending to advance through the Bolan Pass, it would

probably in the first place march on Candahar, and they themselves

would, in consequence of their intrigues with Persia and Russia, be

regarded as enemies. He was therefore silent for a minute or two,

and then said: "If the Shah has retired because he is afraid of the

English, he will not venture to send another army to aid us against

them."

"I do not think that he could do so. His army suffered very heavily."

"I hear that you speak the language of our country. How is that?" the

Afghan asked suddenly.

"I do not speak it well, your highness," replied Angus, who had thought

is possible that this question might be asked him. "Having known for

some time that I should make this journey hither, I studied for a

time with a slave who had been bought by a merchant of my employer's

acquaintance, who had himself bought him from the Turkomans in a

journey that he made in their country. But I speak it only well enough

to make my way through the country, and to obtain such necessaries as

may be required on the journey, and to converse in some fashion with

such travellers as I might meet on the road or in the khans."

"It was reported to me that you spoke so that all could understand

you," he said. "It was this that seemed strange to me that you, a

Persian, should speak Pushtoo. I will speak to you further another day."

As Angus returned to the khan, he felt that he was an object of

suspicion. Up to the point when the Prince had sharply and suddenly

asked how he came to speak Pushtoo, his bland manner had led him to

believe that he had been simply desirous of obtaining the last news

from the frontier. But this showed him unmistakably that the Prince had

learned something which had excited his suspicions that he was there

either as an emissary from Kamran, or of Russia or Persia, desirous of

ascertaining the position of affairs at Candahar, the forces at the

disposal of the princes, and the feeling among the people in general

with reference to a protectorate, or occupation by one or other of

those powers. Angus knew the naturally suspicious character of Eastern

princes. In Persia no one ever ventured to discuss any public affairs

openly. In Herat, hated as Kamran and Yar Mahomed were, no one dared

breathe a word of aught but adulation, for the slightest suspicion

of disloyalty sufficed to bring about the ruin and death of the

unfortunate man on whom it fell.

The last words of the Prince were in fact a sentence of imprisonment

to the city for an indefinite time. The Prince might not send for him

again for months. But the mere intimation that he would do so was

sufficient. He could not continue his journey without running the

risk of being pursued and brought back again, in which case he might

first be tortured to extract any secret he might possess, and then be

put to death. He might, for aught he knew, be already spied upon, and

everything that he said or did reported. Consequently, when he reached

the khan, he took care to evince no appearance of thoughtfulness or

uneasiness, but chatted with the traders there upon commercial matters,

respecting the advantages of Cabul and Candahar as trading centres,

the amount of the taxes laid upon goods in the two cities, and other

topics that would naturally be of interest to a merchant intending to

establish himself in Afghanistan.

He was under no uneasiness as to Azim. He had instructed him carefully

in the account he should give of himself, the city from which he came,

the merchants whose agent he was, the route he had followed, and

other similar matters, so that their stories should correspond in all

respects. When all had lain down for the night, Angus was able to think

over quietly what was to be done. As to remaining where he was, it

was clearly out of the question. For aught he knew, the British force

said to be gathering to advance on Cabul might be months before it was

put in motion, or the expedition might be abandoned altogether. Even

if the advance was made, it might not pass through Candahar, and he

might be detained in that city for an indefinite time. It was evident,

therefore, that he must somehow escape. The question was how this could

be managed. What disguise could he adopt, and how could he evade the

vigilance of those who were watching him? The matter was rendered all

the more difficult by the fact that there were practically but two

roads open to him, that through the Kojak Pass to Quettah, and that

to the north-east through Kelat-i-Ghilzye and Ghuznee to Cabul. If he

moved off either of these regular lines of traffic he would be unable

to give any reason for his divergence, and in any case would be subject

to plunder. Even on these roads it was only as a travelling merchant he

would be respected, and as a travelling merchant he would be quickly

overtaken by the Prince's followers.

Think as he would, no plan occurred to him, and he at last went to

sleep determining to consult Azim, in whose sharpness he had much

faith. In the morning, accordingly, as soon as he was up, he sauntered

across the yard to where the boy was watching the horses feed, and

preventing other less fortunate animals from robbing them.

"Azim," he said, "the Princes have their suspicions of me, and have

as much as ordered me not to leave the town; try and think over

some manner in which we may get away, and if overtaken may not be

recognized. I do not wish to talk with you now, because for aught we

know a spy may be at present watching us, but at mid-day I will come

out and speak to you again. In the meantime think it over. Now, when

the horses have done feeding, take your basket, go into the bazaar,

and buy food for our dinner, so that anyone who may be watching us may

suppose that I have merely been giving you orders what to purchase."

He then went out into the town, and spent the morning looking into the

shops, and asking questions as to the prices of the goods, so that he

might appear to be ascertaining what profits would be made. He also

went to several shops which happened to be untenanted, asked the rent,

and made enquiries about the accommodation. At dinner-time he went over

to where Azim was squatting, attending to two earthenware pots that

were simmering over a small charcoal fire, which he was fanning to keep

it going.

"I can think of nothing, master."

"Then to-night, Azim, after everyone is asleep, get up quietly and go

round to the back of the khan. I will join you there, and we will talk

it over together. Do not be surprised if I keep you waiting some time.

Some of these people may sit up late talking. I cannot move till all

are asleep. It is quite possible that someone who is lodging at the

khan may be watching us."

It was indeed late before the talk ceased and all lay down to sleep.

Angus waited for another hour and then got up quietly and went out. Two

minutes later he joined Azim. "Well, lad, have you thought of any plan

yet?"

"Nothing, master; unless we leave our animals and goods behind us."

"That we could do," Angus said. "I can get rid of the goods to-morrow.

Why leave the animals?"

"Because, sir, they will be looking for a man with a fair complexion,

and a boy, mounted on horses."

"That is so; but if we left the horses behind us and walked it would be

just as bad."

"I did not think of walking, master. I thought that perhaps you might

buy a camel and go on that."

"That would be better certainly, Azim. We might both darken our faces,

and in my Afghan dress might make our way easily enough, if it were

not that we should be hotly pursued, and then a man and boy, however

they were dressed, or however they were travelling, would be sure to

be closely examined. I have it!" he said after a pause. "You might

go as a woman; well wrapped up, little more than your eyes would be

seen. You might ride on the camel, and I might lead it. In that way

we might pass as natives of some village among the hills. The first

difficulty, however, is how to buy a camel. I have my Afghan dress,

and, if I were sure that I was not watched, could get to some quiet

spot, change my Persian dress for it, and go boldly into a shop and buy

a woman's clothes for you; I could then go down into the quarter where

the tribesmen encamp and buy a camel. But if I were caught doing so,

it would be almost proof positive that I was going to try to leave the

city, and in that case I should no doubt be arrested and thrown into

prison at once."

"We might steal one," Azim suggested. "There are many always grazing

outside the wall while their masters are here doing their business."

"Yes, but they have not saddles. However, I will think it over, Azim.

Your idea about having a camel has certainly shown me a way in which we

can get away if it is managed well, and I ought to be able to find some

plan by which we can carry it out. It is of no use talking any longer

over it, there is no hurry for a day or two; and the longer I appear to

be really engaged in looking for a place of business, the more careless

the watch may become."

Angus did not go to sleep that night, but thinking the situation over

in every way decided that the first step to be taken was to ascertain

for certain whether they were watched. If they were not, the matter

would be comparatively easy, but if his every movement were followed,

he could see no way out of the difficulty. When he paid his usual visit

to Azim in the morning, he said: "I want to find out if I am followed.

I will walk straight along this street towards the southern gate. When

I get to the last turning to the left, I will turn up it; then I shall

be out of the crowd. Do you keep a good long way behind me. I shall go

on for some distance, and then mount the wall and walk along there,

looking over the country. I want you to observe if any man follows

me. You must be so far off that even if he looks round he will not

recognize you. I don't want you to find out this time who he is, we can

do that later on; I only want to know if I am followed. Each time I

turn a corner he is likely to look round before he turns, so when you

see him getting near a corner that I have turned, hide yourself if you

can."

"I understand, master."

Accordingly, when half an hour later Angus came out, the lad waited for

a time, and then followed him. His master was out of sight, and Azim

walked quickly till he saw him looking as usual into one of the shops,

and then dropped behind again and followed slowly until Angus turned

off the street that he had named. Azim walked still more slowly, and on

reaching the corner saw him a considerable distance ahead. There were

but a few people about, for beyond the four principal streets were many

large open spaces dotted here and there with ruined walls of houses

that had stood there at the time when the city was far more populous

than it was at present. Angus was walking at a steady pace, as if he

had some definite object in view, and of the various people in sight

only one, who was about half way between him and Azim, was walking at

anything like the same rate. A hundred yards farther Angus turned to

the right. Azim kept on until he saw the man he was watching was close

to that point; he then stepped aside into an empty piece of ground

between two houses. Half a minute later he looked out; the man was no

longer visible. He walked on fast until he reached the corner, and saw

the man again turn off after Angus. They were near the wall now, and

the boy went forward with greater caution than before. When he got to

where he had last seen his master, he caught sight of him on the wall

some fifty yards away. The man who had been following him had stopped

at a low wall, and over it was watching Angus furtively. That settled

the point, and Azim at once returned to the khan. It was an hour later

before Angus came in. He did not pay any attention to Azim, but went in

and engaged in talk as usual with some of the occupants. It was an hour

before he came out to the yard.

"Well, lad?" he asked.

"You were watched, master. A man followed you all the way, and hid

behind a wall to watch you when you went on the wall. I thought at the

time that I might have crept up to him and stabbed him if I had wanted

to, but of course I would not without your orders."

"No, that would not have done at all till we are ready to go; and I

don't like stabbing anyhow. Still, I will think it over. Come round

again to the same meeting-place to-night; by that time I shall have

decided what to do."

To Herat and Cabul: A Story of the First Afghan War · 第 5 / 19 章