A DANGEROUS JOURNEY
Angus made every effort to secure the services of a native well
acquainted with the passes as guide, but was altogether unsuccessful.
The difficulties were, they declared, insurmountable, the danger
overwhelming.
"I must see what I can do," Sadut Khan said, when Angus informed him
that the natives were all of opinion that the snow was too heavy and
the danger too great for the pass to be attempted. "We stayed here for
some days, when I crossed the hills with Dost Mahomed. There is a petty
chief living in a village two miles away; if he is still there, I
think he would accompany you. Whether or not, I am certain he would not
divulge the secret of my being here to anyone."
"I will go myself to see him," Angus said. "I hope indeed he will
accompany us, for if not, I fear that our journey has come to an end,
as the offers I have made would have tempted any of the natives here to
go with me if they had thought it possible. Shall I mention your name
to him?"
"Say to him only that a chief of the Momunds, whom he knew here three
months ago, desires to speak to him."
Angus at once mounted his horse and rode to the foot of the hill
upon which the village with the tower of its chief was perched. Then
fastening the bridle to a stunted shrub, he made his way up the steep
ascent on foot. The place did not contain more than a dozen houses. As
he passed through these, natives wrapped in sheep-skin jackets came to
the door and gazed at him with angry scowls. As he reached the door of
the tower four armed men came out.
"What would you here, stranger?" one of them said.
"I would speak a few words with your chief."
"He does not want either to buy or to sell," the man said shortly.
"I do not seek to sell," Angus said. "I have a message of importance to
him."
One of them went into the tower, and returning in a minute, motioned to
Angus to follow him. The chief, a tall and powerful man of middle age,
was seated on the floor of a room in the upper story of the tower. Near
him was a large earthenware pan, in which a charcoal fire was burning.
"Why come you here, Persian?" he said, "and what message can one like
you bear to me?"
Angus repeated the message that Sadut Khan had given him. The chief
rose to his feet suddenly. "You lie!" he said fiercely, "he is dead.
The news came to us a week since."
"Nevertheless, he gave me that message; and if you will come with me to
Bamian you will see for yourself that he is not dead, though it is true
that he has been sorely hurt."
"I go not into Bamian," the chief said. "I have not put foot in
the town since the accursed infidels came there. They have held no
communication with me, nor I with them. This may be a trick to lure me
there and make me prisoner."
"If they had desired to do so," Angus said quietly, "they would have
sent a hundred men with a gun or two, and not a mere trader. Besides,
how could they have told that a Momund chief had been here with Dost
Mahomed when he passed through?"
"Many could have told you that," the chief said, "seeing that, next to
the Ameer himself, he was the most observed of the party."
"Well, chief, if you will not go, I have nothing to do but to return
and inform him that you refuse to come and see him."
"How can he be there, in the midst of the enemy, unless indeed he is a
prisoner?"
"He is not a prisoner; he lies in my tent. You can see him without
entering Bamian, for my camp is outside the town. What motive, chief,
could I have in deceiving you?"
"I will go," the chief said suddenly. "It shall not be said that I
refused to answer such a call, however improbable it might seem."
He threw on a cloak lined with sheep-skins, and telling his men that
unless something befell him he would be back by noon, he led the way
down the hill. Angus mounted his horse when he reached it and rode
beside him. For some distance the Afghan did not speak.
"Do you know the name of this chief?" he asked abruptly when half the
distance had been traversed.
"It is Sadut Khan, the fighting chief of the Momunds, and a nephew by
marriage of the Ameer."
The Afghan had not expected this reply.
"You must be in his confidence indeed, Persian, or he would not thus
have disclosed himself when in the midst of those who would hail his
capture as one of the most valuable prizes."
"He has, as you say, faith in me," Angus said quietly, "and will,
doubtless, when you see him, give you his reason for that trust in me."
"Your story must be true, and I believe it; forgive me for at first
doubting it. But having heard that the chief had been killed, I thought
this was a plot of some kind."
"It was natural that you should not believe me," Angus said. "You could
scarce credit that he was alive, and, what was still more strange,
that he should be in a town occupied by the English, and yet not be a
prisoner."
"This is a fortunate day for me, indeed," the Afghan said. "There is
no chief whose name is more honoured in the country than that of Sadut
Khan. He is as brave as a lion, good to his people, and faithful to
Dost Mahomed, when so many have fallen away from him. The Ameer regards
him as if he were a favourite son, and it will gladden his heart
indeed, and lessen his troubles, when he learns that he is still alive."
Avoiding the town they went straight to Sadut. Angus dismounted and led
the way to his little white tent, and, raising the flap, said to the
chief, "He is here; enter."
The Afghan did so; and thinking it best to leave them together for a
time, Angus strolled away and saw that his horse was, as usual, well
wrapped up in a thick felt blanket. It was half an hour before the
chief made his appearance at the entrance to the tent and looked round.
Angus at once spoke to him.
"My friend," said the chief, "I again ask your pardon for doubting you
for a moment. Allah will surely bless you for the good work you have
done. Sadut Khan has told me all, and it passes my understanding why
a stranger should have cumbered himself with a wounded man of whom he
knew nothing."
"Does not the Koran bid us succour the afflicted?"
"That is true, my friend, but there are surely limits. One will do
great things for a friend, one may do something for a stranger, but to
hinder one's journey and cumber one's self with a wounded stranger is
surely more than can be expected of us."
Angus now entered the tent.
"My trust in the chief was not misplaced," Sadut Khan said. "He will
act as our guide across the mountains, though he doubts whether it will
be possible to cross the passes. If it is the will of Allah, Persian,
that we should not, we can but die."
"That is so," Angus said; "but the passes may not be as badly blocked
as we expect."
"We can hardly hope that," the chief replied, shaking his head. "The
last party that came over reported that they had never known it so bad.
This was a week ago, and since then the sky has always been dull to
the north, and it has surely been snowing there. However, to-day it is
lighter, and maybe no more snow will fall for a time. We had best lose
not an hour in starting. I shall take four of my men with me. We have
no horses, but that matters not at all, for the passage will have to be
made on foot. Let us move to-morrow at daybreak, and travel as far as
we can before it is dark."
When the arrangements were all settled, Angus went into the village and
bought some more grain, cheese, and other food, also a store of extra
blankets, and two other native tents; these were to be packed on his
horse and Azim's. Among other things he bought two native lamps for
each tent, and a good supply of oil, a roll of flannel for tearing into
strips for winding round the feet and legs, and he was then satisfied
that he had done all in his power to render the enterprise a success.
Before daybreak next morning Hassan, the Afghan chief, arrived with
four of his followers, all strong and sinewy men. The animals were
speedily packed; Sadut's litter was placed between two of the horses
which were more lightly loaded than the others, and they set out just
as daylight was spreading over the sky.
The speed with which the start was effected was in itself a sign that
all felt the gravity of the task before them. Angus had the evening
before explained to the two soldiers that the journey before them was
one of tremendous difficulty, and offered to leave them in charge of
Lieutenant Mackenzie till spring, when they could return to Cabul and
rejoin their regiment; but they would not hear of it.
"We are both mountain men," one said, "and if others can get through
we can. At any rate, we will risk anything rather than return with
blackened faces and say that we had feared to follow our officer."
The morning was bitterly cold, but the sky was clear.
"We shall do well to-day," Hassan said to Angus, "and the horses are
fresh. As for to-morrow, who can say?"
The snow was knee-deep when they got beyond the village. The ascent
began almost at once and was heavy work both for men and horses.
They continued their journey till it was too dark to go farther, then
they halted in a ravine which afforded some shelter from the piercing
wind. All set to work to clear away the snow where the tents were
to be pitched, but before raising these the horses were attended to.
Blankets were girded round them from the ears to the tail, and they
were picketed touching each other for mutual warmth. A supply of corn
was then laid down before each on some square pieces of felt placed
on the snow. When the tents were pitched the lamps were lighted and
the flaps closed, then snow was scraped up outside until the canvas
was covered nearly to the top. In spite of the intense cold all were
thoroughly warmed by their hard work before they turned in. Angus took
Azim into his tent, the rest divided themselves among the other two. At
other times it would have been unpleasant to be so closely packed, but
in such weather it was an advantage.
Before setting to work to pile the snow against the tents a brass
kettle filled with water had been suspended from the ridge-pole over
the lamps, and the water was almost boiling by the time the work was
finished, and in a few minutes coffee was made. The frozen carcasses of
four sheep had been brought, as well as a large quantity of meat that
had been cooked on the previous day. Some slices of the latter were
thawed over the lamp and eaten with bread that had been purchased at
Bamian. But few words were spoken after the meal was finished, their
fatigue and the warmth of the tent rendering it difficult for them to
keep awake. In a few minutes all were sound asleep. The next day's
march was even more arduous. Sadut had given up his litter and again
mounted his horse, as it was found impossible for the two animals
linked together by the hammock to make their way up the steep place.
The work was toilsome in the extreme, but all worked cheerfully.
Hassan and his four men laboured with the greatest vigour, carrying
burdens to places which horses when laden could not have climbed,
hauling the animals out of deep drifts into which they frequently
fell, carrying Sadut Khan in his litter at points where the ascent was
so steep that, crippled as he still was by his injured leg, he could
not have retained his seat in the saddle. The party worked in almost
complete silence, but with a stern determination and energy which
showed their consciousness that every moment was of importance. Twelve
miles were the result of as many hours of labour. No signs of a track
had been visible since they left Bamian, and Angus felt how absolutely
impossible it would have been to cross the pass had it not been for
the intimate knowledge of Hassan and his followers; even these were
sometimes at fault. None of them had ever passed over the mountains
when so deeply covered with snow, and consultations constantly took
place between them as to the line to be followed. When they arrived at
their halting-place for the night, Hassan told Angus and the Momund
chief that they were now within two hundred feet of the top of the pass.
"To-morrow's work will be the most dangerous; the north wind sweeps
across the plateau with terrible force. Moreover, I do not like the
look of the sky this evening. We have been fortunate so far, but I
think that there will be a change."
"It is well, indeed," Sadut said as they ate their supper, "that we
crossed the highest pass before the snow began in earnest; we certainly
could not have supported that journey had we been ten days later. We
have got through the hardest part of the work, and everything now
depends upon the weather. May Allah grant that there be no more snow.
The pass to-morrow is but twelve miles across, and if all goes well we
shall begin to descend on the following morning. If the snow holds off
we shall be able to do that distance easily, for it is almost a level
plain that we have to traverse. Parts of it will be nearly clear of
snow, which the fierce blasts sweep away as fast as it falls, while in
other places the surface will be hard enough to walk on, the snow being
pressed firmly together by the weight of the wind."
They were on foot again next morning even earlier than usual. All were
aware of the importance of haste. The tents were pulled down and loaded
with the greatest rapidity. The cold was intense, and but few words
were spoken until they reached the summit of the ascent, by which time
the effort of climbing had restored the heat that had been lost as soon
as they left their warm tents. The sky was cloudless, and Angus felt
hopeful that the day's journey would be accomplished with comparative
ease. He noticed, however, that there was an anxious look on the faces
of the five tribesmen, who, although they were travelling more rapidly
than they had done since they left Bamian, were constantly urging
horses and men to press forward at a greater speed. Angus had expected
that they would have to face very strong wind, but scarce a breath was
blowing.
As Sadut had predicted, the rock was in many places completely bare.
The fields of snow were so hard that, instead of struggling knee-deep
as before, they now seldom sank over their feet, and sometimes left
scarcely a track upon the surface. The hills on either side stood up
clear and hard, and the silence was almost oppressive. They were, they
calculated, half-way across the pass three hours after leaving their
camp, when Hassan, who was walking beside Angus and Sadut, stopped
suddenly and pointed to the sky. Looking up Angus saw two or three
little wisps of vapour passing overhead with extraordinary speed.
"The storm!" Hassan exclaimed. "See, others are coming; it will soon be
upon us. We can go no farther, but must prepare to meet it instantly or
we shall be overwhelmed."
Knowing that Hassan would not have spoken thus unless from the direst
necessity, Angus at once ordered a halt. The plateau was perfectly
flat, and nowhere could any shelter be obtained, and they were now on
an expanse of hard snow. Urged by the shouts and exclamations of Hassan
all hastened to unload the animals. As soon as this was done, Angus
ordered the tents to be pitched.
"It is useless," Hassan said, "they would be blown down in an instant.
Let them lie open on the snow. Let each man take his two blankets and
keep them by him in readiness, and when the storm begins let him wrap
himself up in these, and then let those who are tent-fellows lie down
together on one side of the tent, pull the other over them, and roll
themselves in it. I and my men will be the last to take shelter, and we
will pile the sacks and saddles over the ends to keep them down. But
first put all the extra blankets over the horses and fasten them over
their heads, and let them hang down well behind. They will turn their
backs to the wind. Make all those that are accustomed to lie down do
so. Range the others close to them."
Ten minutes of hard work and all was ready. Then they had time to look
round. The sky was hidden from view by masses of black clouds streaming
along. The men took their places on their tents and wrapped their
blankets round in readiness.
"Lie down at once!" Hassan ordered. "It will be upon us almost
immediately."
The men did so. Hassan and his followers pulled the felt covering over
them, pushing the edge of the upper side under them as far as possible.
Then they piled baggage and saddles on the ends. Angus, with Azim and
Sadut, remained standing till the last. Hassan ran up to them with his
men.
"Quick!" he said, "the storm will be upon us immediately."
Glancing ahead as he lay down, Angus saw what looked like a white mist
in the distance, and knew that it must be snow swept up by the force of
the wind. Half a minute and they were tucked up in the thick felt; this
was weighted at both ends.
"Allah preserve you!" Hassan shouted, then all was silent. A minute
later the storm struck them with such force that they felt as if
pressed down by a heavy weight. Had they been inclined to speak they
could not have heard each other, so loud was the howl of the wind.
Wrapped up in their sheep-skin posteens and blankets, they did not feel
the cold. For some time Angus lay and wondered how long this would
last. Presently he fell asleep, the warmth, after the bitterly cold air
outside, overpowering even the thought of danger. He was lying between
Sadut and Azim, who, like himself, lay without moving. Indeed, movement
would have been difficult, so tightly was the tent wrapped round them.
He slept for many hours vaguely conscious of the roar and fury of the
gale. When he awoke at last it was with a sense of suffocation, a heavy
weight seemed to press upon him, and the sound of the storm had ceased.
"Are you awake?" he asked the others, but he had to shake them before
he obtained an answer.
"Something must be done," he went on, as soon as they were capable of
understanding him. "We shall be suffocated if we don't let some air in."
"That is true," Sadut said. "The snow is evidently piled up round us.
We must let air in, or we shall perish."
But in spite of their efforts they found it impossible to move forward
to get to the end of the roll.
"We must cut our way out; it is our only chance," Angus said, and
turning on to his back, he managed to get out his long Afghan knife,
and cut a slit three feet long in the felt. As he did so, the snow
came pouring in through the opening.
"Do you both put your hands under my shoulders," he said, "and help me
to sit up."
It was not until he had cut a transverse slit so as to allow the hole
to open wider that he was able to do so.
"The snow is not packed very hard," he said, as he pressed it aside.
"It can't be very deep, for I can see light."
It was not long before he was on his feet, and had pushed the snow
sufficiently back to enable his companions to get out also. The feeling
of suffocation was already relieved, as a sufficient amount of air
made its way through the snow, and after five minutes' hard work they
clambered out. The gale was still blowing, though not so violently as
at first, the snow still falling thickly. Two white mounds marked the
position of the other tents, elsewhere a wide expanse of level snow was
seen. It was evident that, as it drifted, it had first heaped itself
against the tent. More had settled beyond it, and so gradually mounds
had risen until they were seven or eight feet high.
"We must rescue the others at once," Angus said.
On the windward side the snow was so hard that their hands made no
impression upon it, but on the sheltered side it was lighter, and
working with their hands they were soon able to clear it away down to
the end of the tent beneath which Hassan and three of his followers
were lying. It was not, like the others, closed there, as its occupants
had been unable to place weights on it after they had rolled themselves
up. As soon as they had cleared the snow and opened the felt out a
little, Sadut called--
"Are you awake, Hassan?"
"I am awake," he replied, "but am bound down hand and foot."
They cleared the snow off until they saw a foot. Taking hold of this
together they pulled and gradually drew one of the men out. The other
three were extricated more easily. They found that these had not
suffered so much from a sense of suffocation as the first party had
done, as, the ends of the roll being open, a certain amount of air had
found its way through the snow. Half an hour's hard work sufficed to
rescue the occupants of the other tent. The three were unconscious, but
the cold blast speedily brought them round.
"What is to be done next?" Angus asked Hassan.
"The gale is still far too severe for us to move," the latter answered.
"We had best clear away the snow over the tents, and then take to them
again."
After two hours' work the tents were cleared. The men had worked from
above, throwing out the snow over the sides of the mound, so that when
they had finished the tents lay at the bottoms of sloping holes. A meal
was then eaten, and lifting the upper covering of felt they lay down
again and closed it over them. The sun was in the east, and they knew
that some fifteen hours had elapsed since the gale had struck them.
A mound of snow had marked where the horses were lying. They did not
interfere with these, for Hassan said that the horses would be able to
breathe through the snow, and probably the heat of their bodies had
melted it immediately round them, and they would be much warmer than
if the snow were cleared off. Before turning in Hassan and his men
managed to erect the tent of their leaders. Lying as it did in a crater
of snow, it was sheltered from the force of the wind. Holes were made
with a dagger on each side of the slit that Angus had cut, and the
edges tied together by a strip of leather. A couple of lamps and oil
were taken from the sack in which they were carried, and also the bag
of corn, and the little party after filling their vessels with snow and
hanging them over the lamps, and closing the entrance to the tent,
soon felt comfortable again.
"It has been a narrow escape," Sadut said. "Had it not been for your
thinking of cutting the tent, and so enabling us to make our way out,
the whole caravan would assuredly have perished. Now, we have only an
imprisonment for another day or two at most, and can then proceed on
our journey."
The next morning the gale had ceased, though the snow continued to
fall. By mid-day the sky cleared, and all issuing out from their
shelters prepared for a start. It took them an hour's work to extricate
the horses; one of these, a weakly animal, had died, the others
appeared uninjured by their imprisonment. All the vessels in the camp
had been used for melting snow, and a drink of warm water with some
flour stirred into it was given to each of the animals, and an extra
feed of corn. As soon as they had eaten this, the baggage was packed on
their backs, and the party moved forward. It was heavy work. The snow
that had fallen since the force of the wind had abated was soft, and
the animals sank fetlock-deep in it. But after three hours' travelling,
they reached the end of the pass and began to descend. Two hours later
they halted at a spot where a wall of rock afforded shelter against the
wind from the north.
"Allah be praised that we have reached this point!" Hassan said. "Now
the worst is over. I can see that we shall have another storm before an
hour is past, they generally follow each other when they once begin.
But here we are safe, and it was for this that I said 'No' when you
proposed that we should halt at the mouth of the pass."
The tents were soon erected, great stones being placed on the lower
edge to steady them against the gusts of wind. Then a diligent search
was made for wood, and enough bushes were found to make a good fire.
Strips of meat from one of the frozen sheep were cooked, the kettles
were boiled, cakes of flour and ghee were baked, and the travellers
made a hearty meal. The horses were each given half a bucket of warm
water, thickened with flour, and a double feed of grain. Then all sat
round the fire smoking and talking until it burned low, when, in spite
of their sheep-skin coats, the bitter cold soon made itself felt.
They had scarcely turned into their tents when the storm, as Hassan
had predicted, burst. Except for an occasional gust they felt it but
little, and slept soundly until morning, when they found that light
snow had eddied down, and was lying two feet deep. The day was spent in
cooking and attending to their own wants and those of the horses.
For two days they were prisoners, then the gale abated, and they
continued their journey, and late that evening arrived at the village
of Chol. Here they were received with hospitality by the natives,
who were astounded that in such weather the caravan should have made
its way over the pass. Resting here for two days, they travelled to
Kala Sarkari. Sadut now took the lead, for the chief of the village
seeing three horses loaded with merchandise demanded toll; but, Sadut
announcing himself as a nephew of Dost Mahomed, and saying that the
whole party were under his protection, the threatening attitude that
the inhabitants began to assume was at once calmed. Four days' travel,
with halts at small villages, took them to Balkh. Here, on declaring
himself, Sadut was received with great honour, and was entertained at
the governor's house, where Dost Mahomed was lying ill. No attention
was bestowed upon Hassan and his followers, who walked behind him, and
were reported as having been the means of his safety. Angus with his
party kept some little distance in the rear and took up their quarters
at a khan unnoticed, but when Sadut was seen to call early the next
morning upon the Persian trader and remain with him for a considerable
time, it was understood that they were under his protection, and no
enquiries were made by the authorities of the town.
On the third day Sadut said to Angus: "I regret that the Ameer is ill.
Had it not been for that he would have received you. I told him of the
services you have rendered me, and that but for you a few hours would
have ended my life. He said that he would like to see so noble a man,
and to give him a fitting testimonial of gratitude for the service done
to his sister's son. He requested me to bring you to him as soon as he
is able to rise from his couch; and when he enters Cabul in triumph,
as he assuredly will do ere long, he hopes that you will establish
yourself there. I can promise you that your business shall flourish."
"I thank you heartily, Khan, for having spoken to the Ameer about me,"
Angus said gravely, "but I cannot receive a present from Dost Mahomed.
I have intended many times to tell you more about myself, and I feel
that I must do so now. You are my friend, and I cannot remain in a
false position with you. As long as we were travelling together, no
harm was done; it mattered not to you who was the man who had aided
you in your extremity. But the case is different now. You were then a
sorely wounded man, who needed what aid I could give you; now you are
a close relation of Dost Mahomed, and a powerful Afghan chief, so the
case is changed. Dost Mahomed, and no doubt yourself, know what is
passing in Cabul by means of your friends there, who see all that is
going on. The English general, on the other hand, knows nothing of what
is passing beyond the ground patrolled by his cavalry.
"It was important for him to learn what was passing on this side of the
mountains, and he selected me, an officer in his army, on account of my
knowledge of Persian and Pushtoo, to cross the mountains and ascertain
what prospect there was of Dost Mahomed's returning with an army to
Cabul in the spring. I confide my secret to you as to a friend. You can
see that it would be impossible for me to accept presents from Dost
Mahomed in my character of a Persian merchant, and for the same reason
I should abstain from questioning you, or even allowing you to give
me any information as to the military preparations going on. To do so
would be to take an unfair advantage of the chances that enabled me to
be of service."
Angus had thought the matter over, and knew that while such work as he
was engaged in would, if discovered, cost him his life, it would be
regarded by the Afghans as a legitimate means of obtaining information;
and although if caught he would be killed as an enemy, his action would
be regarded as showing that he was a man of great bravery thus to place
himself in the power of an enemy. This was the view, indeed, in which
Sadut Khan regarded it.
"You have done well to tell me," he said gravely. "It was truly the
act of a brave man not only to risk discovery here, but to undertake
the terrible adventure of crossing the passes when winter had fairly
set in, in order to obtain information for your general. Still more
do I wonder that you should have burdened yourself with the care of
an enemy, one who was fighting against your people. It was wonderful
on the part of a Persian trader, it is far more so on the part of one
against whom I was fighting, who is not of my religion, who was engaged
upon an enterprise of such a nature, and to whom speed was a matter of
the greatest importance. Had it not been for the slow pace at which you
travelled with me, you might have crossed all the passes before they
were blocked. I shall fight against your people as before, but I shall
respect them now I see that although our religions differ, there are
good things in their beliefs as in ours, and that even the Koran has
no lessons in charity and kindliness stronger than those that you have
learned from the teaching of your own religion.
"What I thought wonderful on the part of a Persian merchant is still
more marvellous on the part of an English officer, who could have no
possible interest in saving a dying man; and who, indeed, might have
gained credit by delivering him into the hands of his countrymen, since
so long as I was a prisoner in their hands, I should be a hostage for
the quiet behaviour of my people. You can do no harm to us by your
enquiries here; it is known by all on this side of the mountains that
the Ameer will in the spring endeavour to turn out the usurper; it is
known already to every sheik from Candahar to Jellalabad. Whether he
will come with ten thousand or twenty thousand men matters little;
when he appears, all Afghanistan will rise. Your generals might have
been sure that it would be so without sending to make enquiries.
I cannot tell you with what force we shall come. It will not be a
great army; even in summer a large force could scarcely traverse the
passes. It is not on the force that he will take from here that Dost
Mahomed relies; it is on the host he will gather round him when he
crosses the mountains. We have learned that the disaffection to Soojah
is everywhere on the increase. There were many who did not love the
Barukzyes, but they know now that things are worse instead of better
since the change, for the man has made himself hated by his arrogance,
his contempt for the people in general, and the extortion exercised by
his tax-gatherers.
"There is no secret in all this, your own officers must know it. What
you will not learn, for the decision will not be made until the spring,
is the line by which the Ameer will advance. There are many passes
by which he may then cross; or he may go round by Herat, and gather
forces as he advances. Or again, he might go east, and crossing by the
passes there, come down through Chitral to Jellalabad."
"That I can well understand, Khan. Of course I have already learned
that there is no doubt that Dost Mahomed is preparing to cross the
passes in the spring, and that he is sure of the support of the
tribesmen on this side of the mountains."
"He could gather a very large army if he chose," Sadut said, "but the
difficulty of transporting food for so large a body would be very
great, I think that ten thousand men will be the utmost he could move
with. I am doing no harm in telling you this, because you would soon
learn it in the town, and it is certain that your people could not
prevent his passing the Hindoo Koosh, since he has so many routes to
choose from. His force is not like your army, which, moving with great
trains of baggage, cannon, and ammunition, could only cross by one or
two passes; we can move wherever our horses can climb. And now I will
leave you, for I have some business to attend to; but I will return
this evening."