LIFE IN KABUL.
The Îd festival: salaam to the Amîr: the educating of Afghans.
Amîr’s visit to the Workshops: under the mulberry tree: the Amîr’s
speech. Products of the Workshops. Royal Lunch at Endekki: the
Invitation: the Brougham: the Palace: Lunch: the Drawing-room:
the Piano. Evening illumination of gardens: fireworks: dinner.
The unreliable Interpreter. A night at the Palace. Commencement
of intrigue. Gifts to the Amîr: the presentation. The rebuke to
Prince Nasrullah. The barking dog. Noah’s Ark: the nodding images.
Illness again: the Amîr’s advice: the effect thereof. An afternoon
call: conversation. Illness of the Amîr: the visit: His Highness’s
question: the Amîr’s good breeding. An earthquake as an experience.
Report on Kabul brandy: Mr. Pyne’s opinion: the Interpreter again:
the Amîr’s perplexity. The Hindu’s objection. The mysterious
midnight noise: the solution of the mystery. Mumps. The wedding of
Prince Nasrullah: invitation from the Sultana: the Fête: a band of
pipers. The Prince and his bride. Overwork at the Hospital. One of
the troubles of a Ruler. Scenery near Bala Hissar. The Amîr duck
shooting. The sick chief: his imprudence: his amusements. The will
of the clan.
[Sidenote: The “Îd” Salaam.]
Four days after our arrival in Kabul, namely on July 28th, the
Mahomedan Festival of Îd commenced, and His Highness held a Durbar
in the “Salaam Khana.” I went, accompanied by the Armenian. I should
have been better in bed. We waited in the large hall, I talking to
one of the Chief Secretaries. Presently we heard the rattle of drums,
indicating that the Amîr had arrived. He did not, however, come in,
and I was wondering where he was, when a Page came and spoke to the
Armenian, and he and I and the Secretary were conducted upstairs to the
Guest House that I have already described. His Highness, seated in an
arm-chair, was almost alone in the room. After I had made my bow an
arm-chair was placed for me opposite the Amîr, so that he could speak
to me conveniently. His Highness had been talking some little while
when Mr. Pyne arrived; he continued talking to us both for some time.
He referred to the work we both of us had done: said that it was a
means of educating his people; referred to my having become ill in his
service, and promised me some months’ leave of absence that winter, in
order that I might recover my health in my own country.
Presently, lunch was served, and he ordered for me broth thickened with
rice--“Shola.”
Three days after this, the Amîr visited the workshops. I did not join
the party until the Amîr had finished inspecting the machinery, but
went to see two or three people who were sick. When I returned to the
shops I found His Highness had finished inspecting. He was seated in
the grounds under the shade of a huge mulberry tree. A table was placed
in front of him on which were fruit and sweetmeats.
There were seated at the table, on the Amîr’s right, the two eldest
Princes. Opposite His Highness were Sirdar Usuf Khan, the Amîr’s uncle;
Mr. Pyne; and the Dabier-ul-mulk, or Chief Secretary. I bowed to His
Highness, and he ordered a chair to be placed for me on his left.
We ate some sweets and fruit, and His Highness expressed his great
satisfaction at the progress that had been made in the workshops. His
saying of “My money, your work, and God’s help will produce what I
need” has become proverbial.
There were stationary engine, steam-hammer, steam-saws, cartridge
plant, a minting machine, and a blast smelting furnace.
Big guns, machine guns, rifles, swords, leather work, soap, candles,
and coin, were made by the busy hands of hundreds of men, Afghans and
Hindustanis, under the direction of Mr. Pyne and his assistants. Since
then more machinery has been added to the shops, but they have been so
recently described in the public press that I need not go into further
detail.
When His Highness had finished speaking he shook hands with Mr. Pyne,
and acknowledging the salutations of the others, he departed.
I heard that a soldier was detected slipping a cartridge into his rifle
just as His Highness entered the shops, but that he was seized before
he could do any mischief, even if he desired.
Four days after the Royal visit to the workshops His Highness became
the guest of the two eldest Princes at the Palace of Endekki. This is
about six miles out of Kabul, in the Chahardeh Valley.
[Sidenote: Lunch at Endekki.]
About two o’clock in the afternoon came a letter inviting the
Englishmen, Mr. Pyne, myself, and one of the two Engineers, to meet His
Highness there. A small brougham was sent for us. The roads about Kabul
are good, and His Highness and the Princes have several carriages.
The Palace of Endekki is at the top of a small hill. In the distance
it has rather the appearance of a Greek temple with pillars around
it. After climbing the hill one mounts a flight of stone steps to a
terrace, from the centre of which rises the main body of the Palace. A
few more steps, and one enters a lobby which leads into the long hall.
This has a row of pillars in the centre supporting the roof, and is
lit on each side by three large windows. It was furnished somewhat
elaborately in the European style; resembling very much, though it was
smaller than, the Salaam Khana, or great Durbar Hall in Kabul.
Lunch was brought soon after our arrival, and we three English sat at a
table by ourselves, being waited upon by the chief Hindustani cook.
After lunch His Highness invited us into a small room opening into
the long hall at the opposite end from the lobby. This was a very
pretty little room: one side of it was bowed or rounded, and had three
large windows in it overlooking the valley. The room was furnished
like an English drawing-room, even to the Collard and Collard piano.
His Highness asked if either of us could play, and Mr. Pyne sat down
and played some hymns. It seemed very strange to hear “Abide with Me”
in Afghanistan, among Mussulmans. Shortly after this Mr. Pyne felt
rather faint and ill. There was no whisky nor brandy to be had, and
the Amîr suggested champagne, but Mr. Pyne thought he would rather go
back to the shops. He therefore made his adieux to the Amîr and the
Princes; and the Armenian was sent with him. To interpret for me was a
Hindustani--a man with more polish of manner than the Armenian.
In the evening we accompanied His Highness and the Princes into the
Palace gardens, and arm-chairs were placed for us on the terrace. As
soon as it was dark the gardens and the grounds around the foot of the
hill were lit up with innumerable little coloured lamps. Rockets were
let off from the valley, and we leant back in our chairs and admired.
[Sidenote: The Unreliable Interpreter.]
Later on we had dinner out in the gardens. Afterwards the engineer,
Mr. Myddleton, asked me if we could not leave, as he wanted to get to
his work early in the morning. I accordingly told the Hindustani to
enquire. He answered that he was sure His Highness wished us to stay
the night at Endekki. We were exceedingly doubtful about this: there
seemed no reason why we should stay; but the Hindustani was so certain
about it that finally we yielded, especially as the Hindustani hinted
that probably His Highness would be offended if we asked. The real fact
was, as we suspected, that the man wanted to stay himself.
A comfortable little room was given us in a block of buildings
attached to the Palace and built on the side of the hill. Charpoys and
cigarettes were provided, and waiters attended upon us.
We left directly after breakfast the next morning, the brougham taking
us back. Pyne had quite recovered, and was at work in the shops. He
took the Engineer to task somewhat for remaining at the Palace all
night. I explained how we had been misled by the Interpreter.
This man presently began to pay court to me. He came frequently to see
me: was very deferential and polite: wished to teach me Persian; and he
dropped occasional innuendoes and slighting remarks about the Armenian.
He was always hanging about the Palace whenever I went there, and with
a smile edged in a word of correction whenever the Armenian translated.
It annoyed me. I did not want his corrections. I quite understood the
Armenian, and knew enough Persian to tell whether he were giving me
the meaning of the Amîr’s words honestly or not. When, on the other
hand, the Hindustani translated my words to His Highness, he spoke such
flowery Persian and worked in so much Arabic that I could not follow
him. I foresaw trouble, for he was one of those who say the thing which
is not.
About this time a box containing presents, that I had written home for
from Turkestan, arrived, and I sent to enquire when I might have the
honour of laying them before His Highness. A day was appointed; and
after I had amputated a man’s leg, which happened to be arranged for
the same day, I went to the Erg Palace. His Highness received me most
graciously. He was sitting in the Octagonal Hall that contained the
pictures of the Houses of Parliament. The portrait that I had painted
of His Highness was also hanging there. It had been sent to India to be
framed and glazed. The Amîr had had plate glass put over it, ordering
a looking glass to be bought large enough and the silver to be scraped
off the back.
Prince Habibullah, one or two Secretaries, and several Page boys were
in the room with His Highness when I arrived. I sat on a couch in a
convenient position, and presently Prince Nasrullah entered. I stood up
and bowed as he went by. I do not know whether the Prince recognized
me: he did not return my bow. He went to His Highness and salaamed.
His Highness said something to the Prince that I did not hear, and the
Prince was kind enough to return at once to where I was sitting and
enquire if I were well. I thanked His Highness the Prince for his kind
enquiries, but I did not rise.
[Sidenote: The Noah’s Ark.]
Then the presents were examined. They were not of any consequence,
but were such as I could give. It had struck me that a writing-cabinet
and paper stamped with the Royal name, might be a convenience to the
Amîr. I had sent for one, therefore, and had directed the cabinet to
be decorated with an original design in metal by an artist friend.
There were various other things, all of which His Highness examined.
For the little Prince, Mahomed Omer, were several mechanical toys. The
Page boys gathered in a cluster behind the Amîr, as he was examining
these. Among them was a mechanical dog that jumped and barked, and the
boys were much interested, and there was a good deal of laughter, when
one of the Page boys snatched his hand away as the Amîr made the dog
jump at him. Then came a Noah’s ark, with some well modelled animals,
all of which His Highness stood up on the table. A model steam-engine
excited a good deal of interest, as did the little tin men, who walked
rapidly along, dragging their little tin carts. A toy sword and rifle
the Amîr decided to put by till the Prince was older. For the Sultana,
there were various novelties in the way of brooches and fans; but these
were not examined at that time. Some nodding china images amused the
Amîr very much. Altogether, His Highness must have been three hours
examining everything, for I went to the Palace at one and got back home
at five.
The excitement of the various Durbars and dinners did me no good, and
during the month of August--the bad month in Kabul--I was confined to
my bed. Just at that time, His Highness sent a carpenter to me for
instructions, so that a framework might be made for the canvas of a
full-length portrait. I am sorry to say the portrait was never painted.
Mr. Pyne called two or three times to ask me to go for a ride with
him. That being an impossibility, he sat down and told me some amusing
stories.
One day, the Armenian was sent for to the Durbar, and when he returned,
he told me that His Highness had been enquiring as to my diet. I was
not to have any more beef-tea, and no brandy or whisky: I had not drank
them in Mazar, why should I drink them in Kabul. I was to have rice and
sago only.
Sago boiled in water for breakfast and rice boiled in water for dinner
is abominably nasty, especially if you can vary the diet only by
putting salt in one day and leaving it out the next. I never knew what
real unadulterated hunger was till then. I dreamed of Roast-beef and
Yorkshire pudding, of Duck and green peas, but being powerless in bed,
I had to put up with the rice and sago and--became better. I have hated
them ever since, which--in the abstract--seems ungrateful.
One day they brought a man into my bedroom, who looked even more of a
scarecrow than I did. I looked at him, asked a question or two, and
said feebly to Hafiz, the compounder,
“Recipe, pulveris ipecacuanhæ grana viginti, statim sumendus”--“boiled
rice and sago--bed.” He got well before I did: he was used to the diet.
A little girl of eleven, who had had fever for six months, was brought
by His Highness’s orders: all she needed was quinine.
Shere Ali Khan, my friend of Mazar, called to see me one day while
the Armenian was out, and we had a long and amusing conversation in
Persian, supplemented occasionally by signs. We quite understood one
another. We discussed anatomy, climate, diamonds, marriage; and I
remember we compared the customs of European ladies with those of
Oriental ladies. Shere Ali defended polygamy. We had an earthquake in
the evening--not that it had anything to do with the conversation. At
different times many people called. Some of them were ill and wished to
be prescribed for.
[Sidenote: Illness of Amîr.]
In the beginning of September, I heard that His Highness was ill with
gout, and I wrote to ask if I should come and see him. The answer came
that I was to visit him the next day. Accordingly, I gathered myself
together, mounted my horse, and rode slowly to the Erg Palace. The
Armenian had brought me a walking-stick, so that I could get across the
Palace gardens. I found His Highness was in one of the upper rooms.
Getting upstairs was rather breathless work, and I had to take my time
over it.
In the lobby outside the room were several Military Officers and
Secretaries seated on the ground. Through the open door I saw His
Highness lying on a couch. I bowed, and he called me in. The room
was very small, and a chair was put for me near the head of the bed.
Tea was brought for me in a glass mug set in silver. His Highness
then described to me his symptoms. He had gouty inflammation of the
right foot and knee; pains in most of his joints, and sciatica: he
was feverish and shivering. I told him what treatment I should adopt
if I had charge of the case. His Highness said that the Hakims, who
were attending him, had bled him, and had leeched the inflamed joints.
I said I hoped the treatment would not make him worse afterwards.
By-and-bye I took my leave.
I went the next day to see His Highness, and he expressed himself as
feeling much better. The pain was nearly gone. He told me that he had
procured an oil from the colchicum plant, and this had been gently
rubbed into the inflamed joints.
Two Page boys were in the room. One was “massaging” His Highness’s
painful leg, and the other waving away flies with a fan. His Highness
spoke very kindly to me, and suddenly asked if I intended to marry when
I went to England on leave. I was rather taken aback when he asked,
whereat the Page boys smiled; but, summoning up courage, I said yes.
His Highness promised me a very substantial wedding present. Later on,
after we had had tea, I heard the hubble-bubble going round in the next
room, and mechanically pulling out a cigar I began cutting the tip off.
Suddenly it struck me I was in the King’s bedroom. I felt somewhat
ashamed, for I had not been invited to smoke. However, His Highness had
seen me take the cigar out; and I rather lamely asked if he minded the
smell of smoke. He said, “Not in the least,” and, seeing my confusion,
he at once put me at my ease by calling for a cigarette, which he lit
and smoked.
The next morning early my house was found to be on fire: fortunately it
was discovered in time, and the neighbours were _not_ fined for setting
it alight.
[Sidenote: The Earthquake.]
That night I was awakened suddenly by an awful earthquake. The
heaving of the floor, the creaking of the beams, and the rattling of
the windows increased and increased. I sprang out of bed and tried to
light a candle. I could not find the matchbox; then I found it, opened
it, took a match hurriedly, and broke it: took another and tried to
strike the wrong end, then another, and I began to think whether I
hadn’t better make a bolt for it at once. At last I got a light and the
candle caught: it was half-past one. I stood a moment or two with the
candle in my hand, and presently I fancied the rocking and creaking
was becoming less: then it occurred to me that, after all, the house
had stood so many earthquakes, that may be it would stand another, and
I waited a little longer: it really did become less, and finally died
away. The shocks lasted several minutes. Afterwards I walked round with
my candle to look for cracks. There was only one of any consequence;
but that I could put my hand into. However, I did not think it mattered
very much, for the beams went the other way, and if the worst came,
only the end of the room would fall out: so I went to bed again.
After this I got to work again at the Hospital. I attended regularly
at a certain hour in the morning; the patients daily increased so in
number, to nearly two hundred a day, that at the end of the week I
became feverish with a Hospital throat. This was very annoying, for
I had to stop away for a couple of days. I was afraid His Highness
would begin to think he had made a bad bargain in engaging a Doctor
who was generally ill, or fancied himself so. However, I was soon
better, and on the following Sunday went to the Palace to lay a report
before the Amîr. His Highness had asked me to test the purity of the
spirit, “Brandy, Whisky, and Old Tom,” that was being made in the Kabul
Distillery.
I found His Highness downstairs in one of the small rooms of the Erg
Palace that open from the Octagonal hall. He was lying on a fur-covered
couch heaped with pillows. He looked better than he had done, though he
still had some gouty pains in the right knee.
The room was small, but very pretty. There were mirrors let into the
wall, which made the room seem larger.
Outside the large wide window opening into the gardens was erected a
crimson and white awning. Here were grouped the officials who had to
see His Highness on business. I sat inside, near the Amîr’s couch,
and the air was sweet with scent from the clusters of roses which
filled the vases in the room. A few Page boys were there. His Highness
described to me the trouble he had had in getting down stairs with
his gouty knee; and he gave me further details as to the treatment he
was undergoing for the gout: how that he had been bled and leeched
frequently, and that when the pain in his foot was very severe it had
been necessary to plunge the foot into iced water!
Tea was brought in: His Highness said that green tea was not good for
me in my state of health; he therefore ordered black tea to be brought,
and he made me a present of several pounds.
I then gave my report as to the Spirit. It was made from the
fermentation of raisins, and distilled in a proper still; but the
so-called Brandy, Whisky, and “Old Tom” were simply the raw spirit
coloured and flavoured with native drugs: none of it was fit for human
consumption, and those who drank it became ill.
[Sidenote: The Amîr’s Perplexity.]
Presently, Mr. Pyne was announced. He also gave an opinion concerning
the spirit: he said it was not good, but at the same time admitted that
it would sell in Peshawur. The Hindustani interpreted for him: I do not
know what he said, I could not follow the Persian, but His Highness
seemed perplexed. He said that since the opinion of two of his European
servants disagreed he would send the spirit to Calcutta to be tested.
The maker of the spirit was a Hindu, who, I understood, had been
imported into the country by the Hindustani Interpreter.
I remember that one of the objections the Hindu and the Hindustani
made to my report was that I had said “Gin” instead of “Old Tom.” They
said the spirit was not gin (they were quite right), but that it was
“Old Tom”! I let the matter pass: it seemed too absurd to argue on the
point. Meanwhile the making of Spirit was to be continued, but that of
“Brandy, Whisky, and Old Tom” to be stopped till further information on
the subject was obtained.
A few nights after the Durbar I was awakened about midnight by an
extraordinary and mysterious noise that seemed to come “whiffling by.”
It was followed in a few seconds by a shorter and sharper noise which
literally made the earth shake. I had never felt an earthquake like
that before, and I wondered what was coming next. Dogs were barking,
horses neighing, and men shouting. The noise woke up everybody. We
listened and listened, but there was no repetition, and I went to
sleep again. The next morning we heard the solution of the mystery.
The rocket and firework factory in Kabul had blown up. It was not very
far from the workshops, and Pyne told me he thought he should have
been thrown out of bed. I enquired as to the loss of life, and heard
that some people had been killed, but no one seemed very interested in
that line of enquiry. Nor did I ever hear the cause of the explosion
accounted for. Doubtless it was “Kismet.”
We had an epidemic of “mumps” in Kabul at the time, I remember, and
the Hindustani Hospital assistant, the gentlemanly Dipsomaniac, had it
rather badly.
In the beginning of October I received an invitation from Her Highness
the Sultana to attend the Reception after the wedding of Prince
Nasrullah.
[Sidenote: Wedding of Prince Nasrullah.]
It was quite a fête, and was held in the Baburshah gardens, about a
mile and a half out of the town, on the banks of the Kabul river.
The Invitation said seven a.m., but I started about half-past nine. The
day was bright and sunny, like an August day in England.
I rode, accompanied by the Armenian; and the servants walked in front
and by the side of the horses after the manner of the country. I put
on all my finery, including the medal His Highness had given me. The
garden was gay with many-coloured tents and awnings, and crowded with
Orientals in gala costume. The green of the grass and trees; the hazy
red and blue of the mountains; the gleam and ripple of the river: all
these, with the gay colours, made a beautiful picture.
The Prince had not arrived, and I went to a large tent where the
Commander-in-Chief, the Officers, and Chief Secretaries were, and sat
and chatted with them till the Prince arrived.
Presently His Highness sent for me. I found him seated under a large
awning surrounded by Courtiers, who were standing. There were many
others seated cross-legged on the ground in a semicircle in front of
him. I stopped outside the circle and bowed with my hat off. A chair
was placed exactly in the middle of the circle, opposite to the Prince,
and he beckoned me to sit there. I offered my congratulations; the
Prince kindly enquired after my health; and complimentary speeches were
exchanged.
Shortly afterwards the Commander-in-Chief, the Officers, and
Secretaries came to salaam His Highness, and I bowed and retired.
I was then conducted to a tent on the bank, which was made ready for
me, and tea and cigarettes were brought by order of the Sultana, whose
guest I was.
Directly I had arrived at the garden I had sent in my salaams to the
Sultana. She, with the bride and the attendants of the Harem were in a
small walled garden apart. His Highness the Amîr was not present. He
was still suffering somewhat from the gouty attack.
By-and-bye Mr. Pyne and the Engineers arrived, and they came to my
tent. At noon the Sultana gave orders for lunch to be served to us.
It was cooked in the native fashion, and consisted of pilau and the
various other native dishes.
After lunch Mr. Pyne and the Engineers went to pay their respects to
the Prince and then started for home again; but the Sultana sent a
request for them to stay longer.
The Armenian enquired if we should like some music, and he sent for a
band of pipers. They marched with their bagpipes up and down in front
of the tent playing Scotch and Afghan tunes. There were several other
bands about the garden--brass bands and native string bands--playing
military and native music. There were dancing boys, conjurers, and
nautch girls.
The chief men lunched in tents and the crowds of people had a picnic on
the grass; pilau and bread being provided for them.
About two the Sultana sent a huge tray of sweetmeats with which we
regaled ourselves. At half-past two the fête was over and we came away.
The roads were lined with troops, for the Sultana, the ladies, and the
Princes had not yet left.
For a few days before and after the wedding volleys of musketry were
fired at intervals, and bands were playing nearly all day.
I heard a story at the time about the Prince and his Bride which is
interesting. When the Prince was very small he was very fond of a
particular girl in the Harem--a gentlewoman--and he said that when he
was old enough he would make her his wife. The girl was considerably
older than he was, and it is said that in the course of years the
Prince’s views changed. His Highness the Amîr, however, decided that
since he was a Prince, and had passed his word, he should certainly
keep it. In due time the word was kept. This was the wedding.
[Sidenote: Troubles of a Ruler.]
At the Hospital the work was getting rather overwhelming. I was
not strong yet, but if I appeared at the Hospital at all, I had to
see everyone. At the hundred and twentieth or thirtieth patient the
backache came on horribly. If I did not go the patients crowded round
the door of the Hospital and said, “When is the Doctor coming; ask
him to come for God’s sake.” What could I do? I was obliged to go. If
I had been strong I should have enjoyed it, but the overwork delayed
my recovery, and I became much depressed. I thought of resigning and
coming away, but I knew His Highness was not yet well, and in addition
he had just then the annoyance of finding evidence of intrigue and
swindling among some of the higher Officials: heavy fines were imposed,
and there were extensive alterations in the higher appointments. I
did not want to add to his annoyances by resigning; but to my last
day I shall never forget the weary drag of that and the immediately
succeeding time.
On Friday, the Sabbath, I went for a ride with the Armenian. We rode
east from Kabul past the Bala Hissar, where Cavagnari was, and round
the huge marsh or lake that lies in the middle of the Kabul Valley. All
around were the mountains, and between them and the lake were fields
of clover, stubble where corn had been, gardens, trees, and fortified
country houses. The lake is in some parts very deep and in others
shallow. Here the rushes grow thick, making a cover for huge numbers of
wild duck that flock to Kabul in the autumn and winter. A great deal
of the land about the marsh belongs to His Highness’ sister. We passed
her country house--a fort. We saw also the tomb where the Amîr’s father
is buried. At the extreme east of the lake, near the village of Bîni
Hissar, the road took us a little up the foot of the mountain. I pulled
up a few minutes to admire the view.
In the foreground, on the margin of the lake, was one tree coloured
golden-yellow by the autumn: near it were others still green. Beyond
were brown rushes and the lake. Further, on the opposite bank, the
trees, massed together, were tinted all shades of green, brown, and
yellow. Then rose up the hazy purple mountains, range beyond range, dim
and shadowy in the distance, and above, the blue of the sky flecked
here and there by little white clouds.
I was charmed--but I could not rouse any enthusiasm in the Armenian.
Like most Orientals he looked upon an afternoon ride as an unnecessary
and laborious nuisance; still he would not consent to my going alone.
In the autumn and winter the Amîr and the Princes ride duck shooting
through the shallow parts of the marsh.
One day, some two or three years after the time of which I am writing,
I was riding in this direction with Mr. Collins, the geologist, when,
just as we rounded the corner of the Peshawur Road, which leads off
directly opposite the Bala Hissar, we heard the rattle of kettledrums.
We pulled up, knowing that the Amîr must be at hand. Presently, there
came in sight right opposite the Bala Hissar the Amîr’s mounted guard
of Barakzais. Then came the drummers, who rode just in front of His
Highness. We dismounted as the Amîr approached. He was seated in his
palanquin, and the bearers scuffled along rapidly, leaning on the pole.
His Highness carries a walking-stick when he rides in the palanquin,
and if the pace is not speedy enough, the nearest bearer receives a
reminder in the shape of a prod in the back. His Highness, when he saw
us, halted the cavalcade and enquired if we were well. He told us he
had been duck shooting on the Bala Hissar marsh.
It was a pretty sight. The young Page boys in their gold-embroidered
uniforms scampered about on their horses. The guard rode steadily, and
the servants, with their turbans and many-coloured garments--one with
the chillim, another with a charcoal brazier, a third with a samovar
for tea, a fourth with the Amîr’s chair, and so on--these followed in
great numbers. Altogether, with the background of the Bala Hissar, it
made a striking sight.
[Sidenote: The Sick Chief.]
At the end of October, the Chief, whose brother was at the Court of the
Amîr as hostage, came to Kabul to salaam His Highness. The brother,
whom I knew in Turkestan, called one morning upon me to say that the
Chief, who had wished to come and see me, was ill with fever; would I
visit and prescribe for him. Accordingly, I accompanied my friend to
the house the Chief had taken in Kabul. A large following of dependants
and servants had arrived with him. They treated me with great respect,
and I was shown in an upper-room, where the Chief lay ill with fever.
He was a broad-shouldered stout man, about five feet seven inches in
height, and I should say about thirty-five years old. He was not alone:
the room was nearly full of people; I think an Afghan hates nothing
more than his own company: he is bored in no time.
The province belonging to the Chief has a very hot climate. It lies in
the south-east. In Kabul, at this time, though the sun was still hot,
there was a cutting wind blowing, and the Chief and his people did not
wrap themselves up as they should have done.
Tea, cigars, and sweets were brought, and after examining the Chief’s
condition, I sat and talked to him and his brother for some time.
He was an intelligent man. One of his favourite amusements was
photography; he dabbled, too, in chemistry, and showed me a scar in his
hand, where he had been injured by an explosion when he was learning
something about the science. Afterwards, I examined some of his
retinue; eight of them were ill with the fever.
This Chief was beloved, or admired--or whatever the corresponding
sentiment is in an Afghan’s bosom--by his Clansmen. But in the eyes
of His Highness he was as a poppy grown very tall. It was necessary
that something be done lest he should overtop all other flowers. He
had, I heard, been receiving a subsidy of a lac of rupees a year from
the Afghan Government. This was altered: and while he was in Kabul, a
new “Governor” was sent to take command in his province. This was not
pleasing to the Clansmen: they did not love--or whatever the sentiment
is--the Governor as they did the Chief, for he was a stranger. They,
therefore, slew him. Another was sent; him they also slew, and the
Chief was by-and-bye allowed to return to his Province, though without
the subsidy.