so we got up and dressed and set to work to pack our camels, in the
middle of which operation the gale recommenced with greater force than
ever, and made our work almost impossible; however, by 4 o'clock,
with the assistance of some men from the transport depot the work was
finished and the camels with their escort started for a nine mile
march in the teeth of the gale and dust. I waited on in the rest-house
till 6 o'clock in hopes of the weather changing when the sun rose,
but finding no change likely, had also to face the dust and wind,
and continued to ride against it for about two hours, when, getting
under the shadow of a big mountain, we ceased to get the dust and the
gale grew much cooler, and to our great relief we found a much more
bearable climate at our halting place, a little transport depot called
Beebee-Nani, where I am now writing. It cannot be called pleasant
here, but compared with the past 18 hours the change is distinctly
for the better. Desolation reigns here also, no trees or vegetation
to be seen; nothing but sand, stones, and barren rocky hills rising
in tiers one behind the other, till the last and highest range is
barely visible in the hot and dusty haze. At this halting place there
is no rest-house, but instead a good-sized tent, which answers the
purpose very well. A stream of beautiful clear water flows past the
tent, being brought in a small canal or channel (made by our troops)
from the Bolan River, which is two miles off. The water is bright, and
pure, and good, and quite cold, and is accordingly in this land of bad
and scanty water a priceless luxury to all. The hill tribes near this
are not very well-disposed, and they frequently cut off the water by
damming up the place where it leaves the river, but a small party of
native soldiers, who are at once sent out, soon hunts the enemy off,
and sets the water flowing again. We are now beginning to ascend, and
it is decidedly cooler than it was (speaking comparatively), but the
air is unpleasantly dry and harsh, and our lips and skin generally are
suffering accordingly, all the more, no doubt, that of late we have
been accustomed to the damp, relaxing climate of Bombay. This morning
we passed many of the migratory tribes who, during the winter, leave
the districts round Quetta on account of the cold and go with their
flocks and herds down towards Sibi, where they remain till it gets too
hot, when they return to Quetta. They are wretched-looking people,
evidently very poor in everything except children, of whom there seems
to be no lack. Their whole household goods are carried on camels, and
the women and children trot along behind seemingly very happy and
light-hearted. On one camel to-day we saw an uncommonly pretty young
donkey rolled up in a blanket with his head only to be seen, looking
quite pleased with himself, and being balanced on the other side of the
camel by a jolly but extremely dirty baby of 8 or 9 months old. They
make very picturesque groups these people, but certainly among them the
men carry off all the good looks, as the women seem to be singularly
plain and unprepossessing. We are getting very bad hay for our horses
now, which is very unfortunate, but as it has all to be brought from
places miles away we ought, I suppose, to be very thankful that we get
any at all. So far my three are very well, and I am quite pleased with
my new purchases, and very glad, indeed, that I brought my old friend
up with me, as he is a most pleasant horse to ride. To give an idea of
the sort of country this is I may mention that the ground is too hard
to allow of our driving in even iron picketing pegs for the horses,
and we have therefore to collect a heap of heavy big stones and fasten
their picketing ropes to these!
[Sidenote: March to Mach.]
WEDNESDAY, 7th APRIL.--We had a very long march before us (17 miles)
to a place called Mach (pronounced Much), so started off the heavier
portion of our baggage and all our servants in charge of half of my
escort at 10 o'clock the previous night, keeping only 2 camels to carry
our camp beds and bedding, and the warm sheets and rugs of the horses
we were to ride. We had a fairly good night's sleep, although the
high wind was not pleasant, and towards morning became bitterly cold,
for which some of the party were not prepared, and were consequently
very cold indeed. I had my two thick blankets, and found them nothing
too much, although 12 hours previously we had been undergoing a heat
of nearly 100°. These changes are very trying to people who are not
thoroughly strong, but barring slight colds all round, we have not
suffered on this occasion. Colonel Anderson's horse had hurt itself, so
I had to give him a mount on "Rufus," which, as he weighs 15 stone and
the march was 17 miles, I would altogether have preferred not to do,
but as the alternative was his walking while I had 2 led horses I could
not possibly have done otherwise. The road for the first 8 miles took
us over a barren, desolate plain, across which the cold wind whistled
and drove in a way that made us all wish much we had kept our great
coats out, and which made us hail with delight the appearance of the
sun, which up to this had been our greatest enemy. Eight miles from
Bibi Nani we came to a small transport depot called Abigoom, where I
changed my horse "Akhbar" for Selim, who had gone on with the heavy
baggage the night previously. Here Captain Collis, who had been riding
some way in rear, came up to tell me that one of my Syces (grooms)
declared he was so seriously ill that he could not possibly go on, even
though he knew that if left behind by himself on the side of the road
he would probably be murdered by some of the ruffians who hang about
to wreak their vengeance on any one who is defenceless. Fortunately I
was able to get a cart and pair of bullocks at the transport depot at
Abigoom, and we went back and picked the man up and brought him into
Mach, and he is all right to-day. I don't think there ever was much
the matter with him beyond having eaten too much, which these people,
now that they are fed by us and not by themselves, are very ready to
do. The morning, once the sun was up, was most enjoyable, although the
country we passed through was of the same desolate, dreary sort that is
met in this part of the world. Brown arid mountains and red clay plains
covered thickly with enormous boulders; no trees, no water (except
when now and then we cross the Bolan River), no habitations, and no
cultivations. As a sergeant of the 66th, who was in charge of one of
the transport depots, said to me, "Why, sir, there are no birds in this
awful country, and when I see a country as has no birds I think badly
of that country." The poor fellow's views of life and of the pleasures
of campaigning had been jaundiced I fancy by a lonely residence for 4
months in a desert without a single European near him, although he said
on the whole he did not dislike it, as he had heaps to do all day, and
the nights were much too short for the amount of sleep he would like
to have had. Ascending gradually from Abigoom we reached an elevation
of 3,500 feet at Mach, and found ourselves in an European climate,
which Captain Collis and I celebrated by drinking hot whiskey punch for
dinner!!
[Sidenote: Receive English letters at Mach.]
Mach is quite a big place, and there is a post office and telegraph
office there, and a good rest house, and we spent a very comfortable
time there, especially when we recollected the disagreeables of the
previous days. We were able to replenish our larder and stores from the
Commissariat, getting from them bread, mutton, tea, sugar, potatoes,
preserved soups, &c., &c. To my great delight I got my English
letters here,--those of the 12th March, which had reached Bombay 30th
March,--and we posted our letters for home, as, although it was a
little too early, it was our only chance, as there is no other post
office till we get to Quetta, and the English mail will have left that
place before we arrive. As the next day's march was not a long one we
decided to have a good sleep, and not start till 4 A.M. (which meant
getting up at 3 o'clock), and as we all turned in at half-past 8, we
had had a very fair night of it, when at 3 A.M. on Thursday, April
8th, I was woke by Colonel Anderson with the extremely unpleasant
news that the native officer of the escort reported that the whole
of our camel drivers had disappeared--run away to their homes it was
supposed. The question was what was to be done, as we had no wish to
lose a day at Mach, so I sent and woke up the transport officer (a
smart young fellow of the 15th Foot), who before I at all expected it,
was in the rest-hut fully dressed, asking to see "the General," who
being extremely cold was quite invisible among his blankets. I had a
further search then made for the camel men, but it was clear they had
bolted, so I was forced very unwillingly to take advantage of my being
"the General Sahib," and take carts to take us into Quetta. Carts are
not, as a rule, given to officers, as they are used for Commissariat
stores, and so up to this time I have resisted the temptation of
appropriating some (they are far pleasanter means of carrying baggage
than camels), not wishing to have any advantages over other officers,
especially at the expense of the General Transport Service; but now
that the camel men had deserted I felt I might fairly take carts, as
it was clearly not advantageous that I should remain idle for days at
a place like Mach. I, however, kept the demands of my friends and my
servants as low as possible, and we succeeded in getting off without
reducing perceptibly the carrying power of the transport, or causing
any stores to be delayed. Carts drawn by bullocks are very slow, as
they barely do more than 1¾ miles an hour, but they are very sure
and steady, and require no elaborate packing as camels do. On the other
hand they are very liable to break down or to fall over the precipices,
so their possession is not an unalloyed satisfaction. On the whole I
think if I had good camel men I would prefer camels. At Mach we found
a Major Greig of the Artillery, trying to work his way up alone,
taking advantage of any convoys or escorts he could meet, and as this
was very dismal and very slow, I asked him to join our party, which
now numbers 6. It was 5 o'clock when we succeeded in getting away from
Mach, and it was then so cold that I rode the first half of the way
in my great coat. The road was very up and down, and at places very
steep, but still wonderfully good; the country still as barren and
uninteresting as ever. Four miles from Mach we came to a place called
Sir-i-Bolan, which means the head or source of the Bolan, and here are
the springs from which the river rises. They rush out of the solid rock
in a splendid stream, but curiously one of the jets is distinctly some
degrees hotter than the others are.
[Sidenote: Maidenhair Fern--Sir-i-Bolan.]
THURSDAY, 8th APRIL.--The place (_i.e._ Sir-i-Ab) is covered with
Maidenhair Ferns, a piece of which I enclose; I have also taken a root
of it, and intend to send it to Florence to see if she can force it
back into life, as a plant of Maidenhair Fern from the source of the
Bolan would be a kind of curiosity, I dare say.[FOOTNOTE.--The Fern
mentioned above is now in the Stove House at Narrow Water, and has
grown to quite a large healthy plant.] After passing Sir-i-Bolan, the
road led through a very narrow valley, with high and precipitous cliffs
on both sides, quite overhanging the road, and not more than 50 yards
apart at some places. The effect is wild, and the morning air being
sharp and fresh, with a bright sun, the ride was quite enjoyable.
Our halting place for the day was Dozan (or the place of thieves),
which is a good sized Commissariat and Transport Station, possessing
a good rest-house and quite a large number of people of sorts. There
is not, however, naturally any water here, but we have brought it by
an aqueduct from some spring 2 miles off, and there is now a plentiful
and excellent supply--the last really good water we shall see for some
days. This station is in charge of a very nice young fellow of the
83rd, named Adye, quite a boy, but a very good style of fellow, and
one who does his work well, as his bullocks, carts, and everything in
his charge shows. The life these young fellows lead does not seem very
delightful, but it is wonderful how clearly one can see which are the
really good officers who take interest in their work, and have no time
or inclination for grumbling about themselves, and I am delighted to
say the great majority are of this sort, indeed it is the exception
when the reverse is the case, and as the same can truly be said of
the Sergeants similarly employed (all quite young men), I don't think
the army is going to the dogs quite so much as dismal prophets would
have us think. It is also most satisfactory to see how well our native
soldiers (non-commissioned officers and men) on this detached and
independent employment get on, as they develope in intelligence and
readiness in a remarkable way, and show that what they really want (as
do our English soldiers) is less nursing and coddling, and care, and
being made at all times to do more for themselves than they now are.
[Sidenote: Dozan--Cantonment--Abandoned.]
FRIDAY, 9th APRIL.--After starting off our baggage we took a detour
to the right to visit a plateau about 1,000 feet higher than Dozan,
where, during last summer, General Phayre's brigade had been encamped,
and where, thinking the place would become a permanent station, he
had expended much labor and trouble in making roads and laying out
the future cantonment. Now, however, the troops are withdrawn and
the place is deserted. Among other things which had been made was an
excellent lawn tennis ground which looked very English and civilized in
the midst of the desolation. At this place are the springs from which
the halting place is supplied with water, and here, as elsewhere in
this extraordinary country, it is wonderful to see the rush of water
which pours out of the solid rock, reminding one (all the surrounding
circumstances having also a considerable similitude) of the water
rushing out of the Rock when struck by Moses during the travels of
the Israelites in the Wilderness. We rejoined the road about 4 miles
from Dozan, and for 4 miles our way continued through the narrowest
and wildest part of the Bolan Pass, till at 8 miles from Dozan we
crossed an abrupt ridge of hills which lie across the mouth of the
Pass, and descended into a plain surrounded by mountains the tops of
which were still tipped with snow. Two miles farther on we came to
our halting place, which is called Darwaza, or the door or gate, this
being the entrance to the Bolan Pass, the journey through which we had
then completed. There was a good rest-house at Darwaza, and a small
fort, inside of which we were glad to find shelter for our horses and
servants, as a piercingly cold wild wind was coming from the mountains,
and there were decided threatenings of snow or rain, and very shortly
after we arrived it did begin to rain. I had an anxious day with
my Australian horse as he was very ill, and, being almost without
medicines, I was afraid I should have lost him. He had not taken at all
to the bad grass or hay which we have had through the Pass, and had
not been really well for some days. This was what I feared in bringing
him with me, as Australian horses are notoriously dainty about their
food, whereas Arabs eat anything and seem to flourish on anything. We
tried all the native remedies at our disposal, and the old horse pulled
through all right, and before night was able to eat a bran mash and was
quite out of danger. He has, however, got a cracked heel, the result
of the cold dry wind after crossing the numerous fords which we have
had to pass over daily, and I fear I shall not get much riding out of
him, which is a disappointment, as he is a steady old boy who goes
along without any trouble, while the other two are young and foolish,
and as yet not contented to plod along at a walking pace for any time.
The evening at Darwaza turned out very wet and cold, and the night
threatened to be so bad that we had to give up the idea of an early
march which we had intended to make, so as to get over the long and
wearisome journey which lay between us and our next halting place.
Darwaza is one of the highest points on the road to Kandahar (the
highest except the crossing of the Khojak Pass), being 6,000 feet above
the sea level, and until a month ago the whole country round had been
covered with 18 inches of snow, some of which still remained on the
mountains near.
[Sidenote: March across the Dusht-i-Bedaulat Plain.]
SATURDAY 10th APRIL.--We started at 6 a.m. to march to Sir-i-ab, to
reach which place we had to cross a great plain (16 miles across)
which, owing to its miserable and wretchedly desolate appearance, is
called the Dusht-i-bedaulat (the au has the sound of ow) or the plain
of poverty or wretchedness, and certainly it well bears out its name,
as for mile after mile nothing is to be seen but sand and stones, and
desolation everywhere. No one lives in the place, and no one crosses it
except when obliged to do so, as almost always a howling wind, which
is either hot as a furnace or cold as ice, drives across it, carrying
clouds of dust with it, and making the journey not only wretched but
even, to weakly people and animals, dangerous. There is no water
from Darwaza to Sir-i-ab, a very serious consideration in the hot
weather. We, however, were singularly fortunate, as the storm of the
previous day had spent itself, and the rain had laid the dust, and
we crossed the Dusht without the slightest inconvenience, indeed with
some enjoyment, as the morning was lovely and fresh, and the mountains
covered with the snow, which had fallen in the night on their higher
peaks, were looking beautiful, and took away in a great degree from the
otherwise desolate appearance of the scene. As we approached Sir-i-ab,
we saw more signs of civilization (though of a very rude kind) than
we had met since we left Jacobabad, as there were numerous villages
to be seen, each surrounded by its orchards, containing peach, plum,
and mulberry trees, which were all in full leaf, and looked green and
bright to us who had not seen a patch of green for so many days. At
Sir-i-ab we put up in a deserted village, in which was established
our Commissariat and Transport Depot, and a few houses which were set
apart and kept clean for the use of officers and men passing through.
The people to whom the village belong had migrated to the lower
regions during the winter, and were now on their way back, and had
sent word that after the middle of this month they would require the
place for their own residence, and we were, in consequence, clearing
out our Commissariat Stores and Transport animals into a camp outside
the village. Although the people had left the village for their own
convenience, as they would have done whether we had been there or not,
we had actually been paying them rent for the empty houses, and now at
their request were quietly submitting to be turned out. This is the
curious way we make war, and add to the terrible expenses of it quite
unnecessarily. An Afghan village is a collection of mud huts, with flat
mud roofs, and so arranged, and the huts joined together with high
walls, as to form a kind of Fort, as in this country every man's hand
is against his neighbour's, and every one goes armed and prepared for
treachery and violence. The people are a distinctly warlike race, and
fight bitterly among themselves.
[Sidenote: March into Quetta.]
SUNDAY, 11th APRIL.--A short march of 7 miles took us into Quetta,
which looked charming as we rode into it at 8 o'clock in the morning,
the air bright and fresh, and the sun shining just sufficiently to take
the sharpness out of the air. There were quantities of purple crocuses
in flower, and the hawthorn was covered with flower and looked very
home-like indeed. Quetta lies in a small circular plain about 5 miles
across, surrounded by high mountains, and well watered by streams of
clear water which come down from the mountains and enable the people
to cultivate their orchards and fields most successfully. Originally
there was only a moderately sized native town at Quetta, with, from a
native point of view, a very strong Fort to defend it; but since we
have occupied the place (now some 4 years ago) houses after the English
fashion have sprung up, and the place is assuming the appearance of an
Indian Station. We have taken over the Fort and use it as an Arsenal,
for which purpose it serves sufficiently well, though it would be quite
useless as a Fortification against any enemy who possessed guns of any
kind. The native name of Quetta is Shawl or Shalkot, and it is by the
latter name that natives generally know it. It is not in Afghanistan,
but belongs to the Khan of Khelat, who has lent it or ceded it and the
surrounding country temporarily to us on the understanding that we
pay him as much revenue as he used to get out of it, which we find we
can do, and have a good balance for ourselves without oppressing the
people in any way, which shows that the Khan must have been very much
cheated by his officials formerly. We have established a regular civil
government, and administer the country exactly as if it were India. The
civil authorities of course say the people like our administration, but
I confess I doubt it, as they are a very independent lot, and prefer, I
think, injustice and oppression from their own people than justice and
order after an English pattern. The revenue is paid in a very primitive
manner still in these parts; one-sixth of the whole produce of the land
goes to the Government, and as soon as a field of wheat or an orchard
of peaches is ripe, and the crop collected, Government officials go and
put on one side what they consider the Government share, which is then
sold by auction, the farmer taking away the remaining five-sixths; and
I am told the system works well, and there is very seldom any attempts
to cheat the Government of their dues. There is a club at Quetta, of
which we were made honorary members, and where we lived during our
stay. The club has managed to get up a capital library, and have all
the English and Indian papers and most recent telegrams, so we felt
quite back in civilization again after our wanderings in the deserts
and wilds of the Bolan Pass.
[Sidenote: Visit to hospital at Quetta.]
APRIL 11th & 12th.--The chief civil authority at Quetta is Sir Robert
Sandeman, who has an extremely nice house, very well furnished, and
will eventually have very nice gardens and grounds round it. He asked
me to go and put up with him, but as we had agreed not to break up our
party while at Quetta, but to keep together, I refused his invitation,
but dined with him one night. He is a great supporter of the policy
of pushing forward our frontier into Afghanistan, and interfering in
the internal arrangements of that country, and as I think we have
gone much too far in that direction he and I had a good deal of warm
discussion. I went with him to the hospital to see the 2 native
soldiers who were wounded when Captain Showers was killed, and I heard
from them the whole particulars of the catastrophe. It appears that
poor Showers (whom I have known well for many years) was warned by some
friendly native chiefs not to take the road he did, but he told them
an Englishman never turned back, and he would not do so. He had only
12 or 14 men, all natives, with him, and at a very narrow gorge in
the mountains, through which the road passed, they came upon a party
of some 30 or 40 men posted up among the rocks in a position quite
inaccessible from the road. These men received
[Sidenote: Account of attack on Captain Showers.]