Presently the jar was brought back, and as they were about to give it me, His Highness asked for it. He scooped a little out with the spoon, and was raising it to his lips, when the Hakim stopped him and whispered in his ear. The Amîr turned and looked at him, and the Hakim hurried away with a very red face. By-and-bye he returned with the jar. Again the Amîr took it, and, looking at me, he raised a spoonful to his lips and swallowed it. He then gave the jar into the hands of the Armenian, who immediately brought it to me.

One need not live in the East to understand the courtesy and kindness of the Amîr’s action; but to appreciate fully the honour he did me, one must be conversant with Oriental customs. To taste a medicine before handing it to the patient is the duty of an Oriental physician when he is attending the King. I was a servant—but also a stranger and a guest—and the Amîr treated me as though I had been a Prince.

I cannot say whether the medicine would have cured me or not, for in two days’ time we had to be on the march again: which was bad for me.

Then came a time, the details of which I do not care to recall too vividly to my mind, for the “microbes” were just as venomous and wicked as if they had been Hindustani Interpreters at the Afghan Court, and that is saying much.

Instead of being in bed, I had to jog along on horseback half the day. Instead of a sick man’s diet, I got a little cold meat and bread when and how I could; sometimes after a fast of ten or eleven hours. Under these circumstances, of what use could the Amîr’s or anyone else’s medicine be?

The first day’s march was very beautiful: by the banks of a river which ran through cultivated valleys and ravines: and here and there were cascades. At the end of the march I was faint, and the Armenian rushed off to the medical stores for some brandy. He then sent a report in to the Amîr, and the next day His Highness kindly sent me his Shikari elephant. Riding the elephant was much easier work than horse riding: I could take a supply of suitable food, and I picked up again. We started at four in the morning, before the others: for an elephant goes slowly, and cavalry and baggage-horses shy, and then on the mountains, or in a crowd, accidents happen.

I was rocked along through gorges and valleys and villages. In a village, if a wall were in the way, the elephant kicked it over with his foot, and walked across the garden or orchard, as the case might be. We started at two the next morning, for the road was hilly. The cavalry horses were still tethered in line, and, as we passed them, they struggled and pulled against the foot-ropes to escape the awful creature. It was moonlight, and the deep shadows and gleaming rocks and peaks were the reality of Doré’s fantastic ideas. When we camped, patients were brought to me from the villages as well as from the army: one peasant who had brought a sick child presented me with a lamb.

The day after—Sunday—we had to make a long detour to avoid a gorge that was too narrow for the elephant to get through.

On Monday morning I turned out at half-past four. It felt bitterly cold, and I put on an ulster. We waited awhile, but no elephant turned up. Some said he was ill with fever; others said the Sultana had sent for him. They therefore saddled the black pony and I mounted.

We had such awful mountain passes to traverse that the camels and pack-horses were compelled to go another and much longer road. One path I remember on the side of a mountain: it was about five feet wide: in one place it had crumbled away, and was hardly two feet wide, with a precipice going sheer down. The path went steeply up and steeply down, and was covered with little loose stones. It was no good trying to ride it, for on account of the loose pebbles, a horse could not climb it with a man on his back. I got off, put the bridle over my arm, and, scotching my feet on firmer pieces of rock, managed to get up, the horse scrambling after me. Though I was ill and weak, I could not help a burst of laughter at the Armenian as he crawled up on all fours.

On Tuesday, at ten a.m., we reached Kamard or Shush-Bûrjah, and my tent was put up in an orchard. I lay under a walnut-tree all day and saw patients. We stayed here three days, and His Highness held a Durbar. I went, and His Highness told me about the source of a river there: how it came from a tunnel at the foot of the mountain, and the water was hot; and how it rendered the valley warm in the winter. I had lunch with His Highness, and then went to attend to a man with a broken thigh.

On the Friday, we started again and crossed that awful mountain, the “Tooth-breaker,” Dandan Shikan. I found that the road had been greatly improved since I was last there. As it was, however, there were a great many accidents. We went on to Saighan, and they brought one old fellow of seventy to me, the uncle of the Chief Secretary, or Dabier-ul-Mulk. His horse had slipped sideways on Dandan Shikan, and he had broken his right arm just below the shoulder and his right thigh just above the knee. I put him up in splints, and he was carried the rest of the journey in a sort of cradle slung on a camel; another injured man being on the other side. The old man quite recovered.

We camped one day at Akrab-abad, and though it was the middle of July, the night was excessively cold. The winter there is bitter, hence the name—Akrab meaning a scorpion. It is about ten thousand feet above the sea.

We reached the western extremity of the Bamian Valley, and His Highness’s chief cook had a row with mine. Between the two I received some beef-tea that was sour. The Hakim Abdur Rashid, having been sent by His Highness to enquire how I was, the Armenian, with much vigour and energy, detailed the iniquities of the cooks. The matter was reported to His Highness: he sent for the cooks and informed them that if I did not recover he would blow them to pieces from the cannon’s mouth. My cook bolted before we reached Kabul. I suppose his “prognosis” of the case was unsatisfactory. I don’t know where he went to, and I did not see him again till I was better.

We rode through the Bamian Valley and passed the colossal Figures, the Caves, the ancient Cities, and the modern fortified Villages. It was very beautiful, and I really fancied I was better. There were cornfields, beanfields, grass, trees, and river.

The soldiers camped at the end of the valley, beyond Zohak-i-Marhan, where it is narrow. There were some camels camped here also, and their weird moans and bubbling cries echoing back from the rocks were horrible to hear. They sounded like the hopeless cries of the damned: at least, I thought so—I was evidently morbid.

Here a soldier of the Amîr’s bodyguard quarrelled with a comrade and killed him. I don’t know if he were hanged.

I saw a little brown spaniel leading a camel along by a rope. I really do not know whether a dog is “unclean” or not, but the Afghans occasionally, though rarely, make pets of them. They more often make pets of partridges—a speckled bird, with a curious rippling cry—and train them to fight. I have often seen a bird trotting along after his master: it looks very odd.

We went through the ravine where the water dashes down and enters a tunnel in the rock. Further on, a camel in the crush was pushed over the edge and fell with his load down the ravine. Its young one sprang after it. The Amîr passing some time afterwards with his guard, halted to look at the place. The horse of one of the guard was frightened, and backed away from the precipice: the man, incensed, cut it violently with the cruel doubled-lashed Afghan whip; the horse gave a bound forward, and he and his rider disappeared over the edge.

From here the road led over high mountains, and it was very cold and rainy. I had to have occasional doses of brandy from the medical stores in order to keep going, and at one place His Highness, when he arrived, was kind enough to stop at my tent to enquire how I was. The next day, he sent his palanquin to me, and I was borne along on the shoulders of four sturdy Afghans. I was not a heavy burden, unfortunately, and they hurried along up hill and down dale, over rocks and through defiles at a pace that was to me, in my feebleness, terrifying.

We camped at Gardandiwal. This was the occasion I referred to some way back, on which I gave a banquet to a dozen men—the relays of palanquin bearers—which cost me rather less than sixpence a head. I ought to say that the men refused at first, lest the fact might reach His Highness’s ears and displease him.

Here His Highness sent me some specimens to test for coal. I am not a geologist, but, as far as I could judge, from my rough tests, there was, in the specimens he sent me, some coal and a good deal of stone.

After this I became very ill, and His Highness sent several times to enquire how I was. One day he sent for the Armenian and gave him directions as to the diet I should have. He hoped I should be better on the third day from then, as he wished me to ride into Kabul with him. He said that brandy was not good for me, as it tended to produce congestion of the liver.

The next day we arrived at Kalai Kasi, within a few miles of Kabul, and Mr. Pyne and the two other English engineers rode out from Kabul to welcome His Highness. Afterwards they came to my tent. I was very pleased to see them. They were the first English I had seen since Captain Griesbach left Mazar, more than a year before. They were very jolly, but their vigorous energy was, to a poor debilitated mortal, rather overpowering. I remember Pyne enquired why I sat on the ground: I explained that I had no chair, it was broken. He also asked why I did not have my hair cut: I told him there was no barber, and that we had been on the march a month and a half. After dinner they rode back with a guard to Kabul.

Early the next morning His Highness held a Durbar, and at five o’clock I girded up my loins, mounted a horse, and rode to His Highness’s quarters. Outside the khirgar, or wigwam, where His Highness slept, there was erected a large red and white awning. Under this, in the shade, were several chairs and two or three portable tables covered with fruit and flowers. Several people, Officers and Courtiers, were sitting there, and I joined them. Soon, we heard that His Highness had risen, and I was sent for into the khirgar. His Highness was sitting on the couch, and on a little table by him were some biscuits and fruit, and a cup of tea. He enquired very kindly after my health, suggesting various remedies, and gave me advice as regards diet. He would not hear of my riding on horseback into Kabul, but said I must be carried in the palanquin. He said many kind things, and finally gave me “Rûkhsat,” or permission to depart, for I was feeble. I returned to the tent till we were ready to start.

The lanes, cornfields, fruit trees, and general freshness and greenness of the suburbs of Kabul reminded me of England, and were most grateful to the eye after the dusty barrenness of Mazar.

Presently we turned off from the Kabul road; and some way off I saw a hill with crowds of people on it. There were rows of spectators on each side of the road leading to it. Evidently the grand reception was not to be in the town. I had hoped to get away somewhere and rest.

I became conscious that I was not shaven, and that my collar was an old one and frayed. I had one, among my much-tattered linen—the Afghan washermen dash your linen on a stone to wash it, and starch it with flour—I had one, carefully saved for this very event, but, alas! it was in a portmanteau!

The Armenian said, “Sir, you not care it. Highness know you ill. Other men, who is!”

There was no help for it, and we reached the top of the hill. Here, under a large awning, was a circle of Orientals, in their robes and turbans, seated on the ground. They were the Maleks and Chiefs from the Kabul province. At one side of the circle seated on chairs were His Highness’s two eldest sons, the Princes Habibullah and Nasrullah. I got out of the palanquin and walked feebly into the middle of the circle and bowed to the Princes.

They enquired politely after my health, and Prince Habibullah, turning to the Armenian, said in Persian, “He looks very ill, what is the matter?”

Then he gave orders for me to be taken to the “Baghi Buland,” or “High Garden,” on a hill close by. Accordingly I was carried there. This was where the reception of His Highness was to take place.

There was a temporary pavilion erected, gaily adorned with hangings of crimson and white, and with large bouquets of flowers. It was furnished with carpets, couches, tables, and chairs. There was a part raised some three steps, which commanded a view from the window of a little artificial waterfall, a fountain, trees, and the lovely Baghi Shah Valley. This valley lies outside Kabul, just north of the Chahar Bagh Valley, and separated from it by the Asmai Mountains.

A few people were collected in the Pavilion, and the Armenian brought a chair for me. I knew no one, and felt rather out of it. Presently Malek, the Amîr’s favourite Page, entered, and everyone stood to receive him. He took no notice of anyone, but rushed up to me and enquired how I was. At once the manner of those in the Pavilion altered. When a European in Kabul has become of interest to the Amîr, every one bows the knee—metaphorically speaking—and he has a good time. But once let His Highness’s interest wane, and, as it struck me then, the said European would be likely to have a very middling time.

A crowd began to collect on the Baghi Buland Hill, some entering the Pavilion.

By-and-bye there was a rattle of kettledrums, a confused murmur of many voices—but no cheering as in England—and the Amîr approached, riding on horseback. There was a great deal of bustle, and suddenly the two Princes appeared just outside the Pavilion. The Amîr, having reached the top of the hill, dismounted: the crowd opened, and the two Princes advancing, knelt and kissed His Highness’s feet. He raised each one and kissed him on the forehead. The Amîr then entered the Pavilion; walking with a stick. I took off my solar helmet and bowed with the rest, and His Highness went up the steps to the raised part of the hall. The Armenian whispered—

“Follow Highness.”

The Amîr took his seat upon a couch near a large window: in front of him was a small table with some lovely roses on it.

The Courtiers, the more important Chiefs and I, were standing near. His Highness caught sight of me almost directly, and most kindly ordered a chair to be placed in a particular spot near the couch, to the right, and a little behind where he sat.

Then a salute of several guns was fired: the vibration of the air making the Pavilion shake, we adjourned temporarily to another room.

On our return Mr. Pyne and the two other Engineers arrived. Pyne looked very smart in a European frock-coat, with a flower in his button-hole: the two other Englishmen were neatly dressed in corduroy riding-suits and long boots.

The Amîr shook hands with Mr. Pyne, spoke to him for a few moments, and then chairs were placed for them near mine.

About midday I began to feel dreadfully tired, and as some people had already taken their departure, I turned round and asked Pyne if he cared to go then.

He said that the Prince had given orders that we were to wait till the roads were clear, and I waited a little longer. Presently, as I began to feel giddy, I said to the Armenian—

“I am going.”

He said: “Shahzada Sahib said, a little you stop till——”

“Can’t help it,” I said.

I stood up, stepped to the Amîr’s couch and bowed.

“Rûkhsat?” said His Highness. “Are you going?”

“Bali, Sahib,” I said. “Yes, sir.”

His Highness kindly said, “Bisyar-khôb. Ba aman-i-Khuda.” “Very well. Good-bye.”

I bowed and retired.

Outside the Pavilion I got into the palanquin and was carried to Pyne’s room at the workshops.

I found him there: he had left soon after I had, and, galloping into Kabul by another road, had arrived before me.

He said I looked ill at the Durbar, and he made me drink a tumblerful of sparkling hock at once. I stayed with him a fortnight, till my house was ready. He was exceedingly hospitable, and with well meant, but somewhat mistaken kindness, forced upon me whisky, beer, hock, and all sorts of unsuitable food. He tried to brighten me up by taking me about the workshops and showing me what progress had been made since I had left Kabul, and in the evening he told me yarns and stories without number. Once or twice it was almost too much, and I became giddy and faint. He was very kind, but I was thankful when I got to my house and could lie down.

With proper diet and medicine I began to improve, but it was months before I quite recovered.

CHAPTER XXII.
Life in Kabul.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.