Untitled

"Why come you here, Persian?" he said, "and what message can one like you bear to me?"

Angus repeated the message that Sadut Khan had given him. The chief rose to his feet suddenly. "You lie!" he said fiercely, "he is dead. The news came to us a week since."

"Nevertheless, he gave me that message; and if you will come with me to Bamian you will see for yourself that he is not dead, though it is true that he has been sorely hurt."

"I go not into Bamian," the chief said. "I have not put foot in the town since the accursed infidels came there. They have held no communication with me, nor I with them. This may be a trick to lure me there and make me prisoner."

"If they had desired to do so," Angus said quietly, "they would have sent a hundred men with a gun or two, and not a mere trader. Besides, how could they have told that a Momund chief had been here with Dost Mahomed when he passed through?"

"Many could have told you that," the chief said, "seeing that, next to the Ameer himself, he was the most observed of the party."

"Well, chief, if you will not go, I have nothing to do but to return and inform him that you refuse to come and see him."

"How can he be there, in the midst of the enemy, unless indeed he is a prisoner?"

"He is not a prisoner; he lies in my tent. You can see him without entering Bamian, for my camp is outside the town. What motive, chief, could I have in deceiving you?"

"I will go," the chief said suddenly. "It shall not be said that I refused to answer such a call, however improbable it might seem."

He threw on a cloak lined with sheep-skins, and telling his men that unless something befell him he would be back by noon, he led the way down the hill. Angus mounted his horse when he reached it and rode beside him. For some distance the Afghan did not speak.

"Do you know the name of this chief?" he asked abruptly when half the distance had been traversed.

"It is Sadut Khan, the fighting chief of the Momunds, and a nephew by marriage of the Ameer."

The Afghan had not expected this reply.

"You must be in his confidence indeed, Persian, or he would not thus have disclosed himself when in the midst of those who would hail his capture as one of the most valuable prizes."

"He has, as you say, faith in me," Angus said quietly, "and will, doubtless, when you see him, give you his reason for that trust in me."

"Your story must be true, and I believe it; forgive me for at first doubting it. But having heard that the chief had been killed, I thought this was a plot of some kind."

"It was natural that you should not believe me," Angus said. "You could scarce credit that he was alive, and, what was still more strange, that he should be in a town occupied by the English, and yet not be a prisoner."

"This is a fortunate day for me, indeed," the Afghan said. "There is no chief whose name is more honoured in the country than that of Sadut Khan. He is as brave as a lion, good to his people, and faithful to Dost Mahomed, when so many have fallen away from him. The Ameer regards him as if he were a favourite son, and it will gladden his heart indeed, and lessen his troubles, when he learns that he is still alive."

Avoiding the town they went straight to Sadut. Angus dismounted and led the way to his little white tent, and, raising the flap, said to the chief, "He is here; enter."

The Afghan did so; and thinking it best to leave them together for a time, Angus strolled away and saw that his horse was, as usual, well wrapped up in a thick felt blanket. It was half an hour before the chief made his appearance at the entrance to the tent and looked round.

Angus at once spoke to him.

"My friend," said the chief, "I again ask your pardon for doubting you for a moment. Allah will surely bless you for the good work you have done. Sadut Khan has told me all, and it passes my understanding why a stranger should have cumbered himself with a wounded man of whom he knew nothing."

"Does not the Koran bid us succour the afflicted?"

"That is true, my friend, but there are surely limits. One will do great things for a friend, one may do something for a stranger, but to hinder one's journey and cumber one's self with a wounded stranger is surely more than can be expected of us."

Angus now entered the tent.

"My trust in the chief was not misplaced," Sadut Khan said. "He will act as our guide across the mountains, though he doubts whether it will be possible to cross the passes. If it is the will of Allah, Persian, that we should not, we can but die."

"That is so," Angus said; "but the passes may not be as badly blocked as we expect."

"We can hardly hope that," the chief replied, shaking his head. "The last party that came over reported that they had never known it so bad. This was a week ago, and since then the sky has always been dull to the north, and it has surely been snowing there. However, to-day it is lighter, and maybe no more snow will fall for a time. We had best lose not an hour in starting. I shall take four of my men with me. We have no horses, but that matters not at all, for the passage will have to be made on foot. Let us move to-morrow at daybreak, and travel as far as we can before it is dark."

When the arrangements were all settled, Angus went into the village and bought some more grain, cheese, and other food, also a store of extra blankets, and two other native tents; these were to be packed on his horse and Azim's. Among other things he bought two native lamps for each tent, and a good supply of oil, a roll of flannel for tearing into strips for winding round the feet and legs, and he was then satisfied that he had done all in his power to render the enterprise a success. Before daybreak next morning Hassan, the Afghan chief, arrived with four of his followers, all strong and sinewy men. The animals were speedily packed; Sadut's litter was placed between two of the horses which were more lightly loaded than the others, and they set out just as daylight was spreading over the sky.

The speed with which the start was effected was in itself a sign that all felt the gravity of the task before them. Angus had the evening before explained to the two soldiers that the journey before them was one of tremendous difficulty, and offered to leave them in charge of Lieutenant Mackenzie till spring, when they could return to Cabul and rejoin their regiment; but they would not hear of it.

"We are both mountain men," one said, "and if others can get through we can. At any rate, we will risk anything rather than return with blackened faces and say that we had feared to follow our officer."

The morning was bitterly cold, but the sky was clear.

"We shall do well to-day," Hassan said to Angus, "and the horses are fresh. As for to-morrow, who can say?"

The snow was knee-deep when they got beyond the village. The ascent began almost at once and was heavy work both for men and horses.

They continued their journey till it was too dark to go farther, then they halted in a ravine which afforded some shelter from the piercing wind. All set to work to clear away the snow where the tents were to be pitched, but before raising these the horses were attended to. Blankets were girded round them from the ears to the tail, and they were picketed touching each other for mutual warmth. A supply of corn was then laid down before each on some square pieces of felt placed on the snow. When the tents were pitched the lamps were lighted and the flaps closed, then snow was scraped up outside until the canvas was covered nearly to the top. In spite of the intense cold all were thoroughly warmed by their hard work before they turned in. Angus took Azim into his tent, the rest divided themselves among the other two. At other times it would have been unpleasant to be so closely packed, but in such weather it was an advantage.

Before setting to work to pile the snow against the tents a brass kettle filled with water had been suspended from the ridge-pole over the lamps, and the water was almost boiling by the time the work was finished, and in a few minutes coffee was made. The frozen carcasses of four sheep had been brought, as well as a large quantity of meat that had been cooked on the previous day. Some slices of the latter were thawed over the lamp and eaten with bread that had been purchased at Bamian. But few words were spoken after the meal was finished, their fatigue and the warmth of the tent rendering it difficult for them to keep awake. In a few minutes all were sound asleep. The next day's march was even more arduous. Sadut had given up his litter and again mounted his horse, as it was found impossible for the two animals linked together by the hammock to make their way up the steep place. The work was toilsome in the extreme, but all worked cheerfully.

Hassan and his four men laboured with the greatest vigour, carrying burdens to places which horses when laden could not have climbed, hauling the animals out of deep drifts into which they frequently fell, carrying Sadut Khan in his litter at points where the ascent was so steep that, crippled as he still was by his injured leg, he could not have retained his seat in the saddle. The party worked in almost complete silence, but with a stern determination and energy which showed their consciousness that every moment was of importance. Twelve miles were the result of as many hours of labour. No signs of a track had been visible since they left Bamian, and Angus felt how absolutely impossible it would have been to cross the pass had it not been for the intimate knowledge of Hassan and his followers; even these were sometimes at fault. None of them had ever passed over the mountains when so deeply covered with snow, and consultations constantly took place between them as to the line to be followed. When they arrived at their halting-place for the night, Hassan told Angus and the Momund chief that they were now within two hundred feet of the top of the pass.

"To-morrow's work will be the most dangerous; the north wind sweeps across the plateau with terrible force. Moreover, I do not like the look of the sky this evening. We have been fortunate so far, but I think that there will be a change."

"It is well, indeed," Sadut said as they ate their supper, "that we crossed the highest pass before the snow began in earnest; we certainly could not have supported that journey had we been ten days later. We have got through the hardest part of the work, and everything now depends upon the weather. May Allah grant that there be no more snow. The pass to-morrow is but twelve miles across, and if all goes well we shall begin to descend on the following morning. If the snow holds off we shall be able to do that distance easily, for it is almost a level plain that we have to traverse. Parts of it will be nearly clear of snow, which the fierce blasts sweep away as fast as it falls, while in other places the surface will be hard enough to walk on, the snow being pressed firmly together by the weight of the wind."

They were on foot again next morning even earlier than usual. All were aware of the importance of haste. The tents were pulled down and loaded with the greatest rapidity. The cold was intense, and but few words were spoken until they reached the summit of the ascent, by which time the effort of climbing had restored the heat that had been lost as soon as they left their warm tents. The sky was cloudless, and Angus felt hopeful that the day's journey would be accomplished with comparative ease. He noticed, however, that there was an anxious look on the faces of the five tribesmen, who, although they were travelling more rapidly than they had done since they left Bamian, were constantly urging horses and men to press forward at a greater speed. Angus had expected that they would have to face very strong wind, but scarce a breath was blowing.

As Sadut had predicted, the rock was in many places completely bare. The fields of snow were so hard that, instead of struggling knee-deep as before, they now seldom sank over their feet, and sometimes left scarcely a track upon the surface. The hills on either side stood up clear and hard, and the silence was almost oppressive. They were, they calculated, half-way across the pass three hours after leaving their camp, when Hassan, who was walking beside Angus and Sadut, stopped suddenly and pointed to the sky. Looking up Angus saw two or three little wisps of vapour passing overhead with extraordinary speed.

"The storm!" Hassan exclaimed. "See, others are coming; it will soon be upon us. We can go no farther, but must prepare to meet it instantly or we shall be overwhelmed."

Knowing that Hassan would not have spoken thus unless from the direst necessity, Angus at once ordered a halt. The plateau was perfectly flat, and nowhere could any shelter be obtained, and they were now on an expanse of hard snow. Urged by the shouts and exclamations of Hassan all hastened to unload the animals. As soon as this was done, Angus ordered the tents to be pitched.

"It is useless," Hassan said, "they would be blown down in an instant. Let them lie open on the snow. Let each man take his two blankets and keep them by him in readiness, and when the storm begins let him wrap himself up in these, and then let those who are tent-fellows lie down together on one side of the tent, pull the other over them, and roll themselves in it. I and my men will be the last to take shelter, and we will pile the sacks and saddles over the ends to keep them down. But first put all the extra blankets over the horses and fasten them over their heads, and let them hang down well behind. They will turn their backs to the wind. Make all those that are accustomed to lie down do so. Range the others close to them."

Ten minutes of hard work and all was ready. Then they had time to look round. The sky was hidden from view by masses of black clouds streaming along. The men took their places on their tents and wrapped their blankets round in readiness.

"Lie down at once!" Hassan ordered. "It will be upon us almost immediately."

The men did so. Hassan and his followers pulled the felt covering over them, pushing the edge of the upper side under them as far as possible. Then they piled baggage and saddles on the ends. Angus, with Azim and Sadut, remained standing till the last. Hassan ran up to them with his men.

"Quick!" he said, "the storm will be upon us immediately."

Glancing ahead as he lay down, Angus saw what looked like a white mist in the distance, and knew that it must be snow swept up by the force of the wind. Half a minute and they were tucked up in the thick felt; this was weighted at both ends.

"Allah preserve you!" Hassan shouted, then all was silent. A minute later the storm struck them with such force that they felt as if pressed down by a heavy weight. Had they been inclined to speak they could not have heard each other, so loud was the howl of the wind. Wrapped up in their sheep-skin posteens and blankets, they did not feel the cold. For some time Angus lay and wondered how long this would last. Presently he fell asleep, the warmth, after the bitterly cold air outside, overpowering even the thought of danger. He was lying between Sadut and Azim, who, like himself, lay without moving. Indeed, movement would have been difficult, so tightly was the tent wrapped round them. He slept for many hours vaguely conscious of the roar and fury of the gale. When he awoke at last it was with a sense of suffocation, a heavy weight seemed to press upon him, and the sound of the storm had ceased.

"Are you awake?" he asked the others, but he had to shake them before he obtained an answer.

"Something must be done," he went on, as soon as they were capable of understanding him. "We shall be suffocated if we don't let some air in."

"That is true," Sadut said. "The snow is evidently piled up round us. We must let air in, or we shall perish."

But in spite of their efforts they found it impossible to move forward to get to the end of the roll.

"We must cut our way out; it is our only chance," Angus said, and turning on to his back, he managed to get out his long Afghan knife, and cut a slit three feet long in the felt. As he did so, the snow came pouring in through the opening.

"Do you both put your hands under my shoulders," he said, "and help me to sit up."

It was not until he had cut a transverse slit so as to allow the hole to open wider that he was able to do so.

"The snow is not packed very hard," he said, as he pressed it aside. "It can't be very deep, for I can see light."

It was not long before he was on his feet, and had pushed the snow sufficiently back to enable his companions to get out also. The feeling of suffocation was already relieved, as a sufficient amount of air made its way through the snow, and after five minutes' hard work they clambered out. The gale was still blowing, though not so violently as at first, the snow still falling thickly. Two white mounds marked the position of the other tents, elsewhere a wide expanse of level snow was seen. It was evident that, as it drifted, it had first heaped itself against the tent. More had settled beyond it, and so gradually mounds had risen until they were seven or eight feet high.

"We must rescue the others at once," Angus said.

On the windward side the snow was so hard that their hands made no impression upon it, but on the sheltered side it was lighter, and working with their hands they were soon able to clear it away down to the end of the tent beneath which Hassan and three of his followers were lying. It was not, like the others, closed there, as its occupants had been unable to place weights on it after they had rolled themselves up. As soon as they had cleared the snow and opened the felt out a little, Sadut called—

"Are you awake, Hassan?"

"I am awake," he replied, "but am bound down hand and foot."

They cleared the snow off until they saw a foot. Taking hold of this together they pulled and gradually drew one of the men out. The other three were extricated more easily. They found that these had not suffered so much from a sense of suffocation as the first party had done, as, the ends of the roll being open, a certain amount of air had found its way through the snow. Half an hour's hard work sufficed to rescue the occupants of the other tent. The three were unconscious, but the cold blast speedily brought them round.

"What is to be done next?" Angus asked Hassan.

"The gale is still far too severe for us to move," the latter answered. "We had best clear away the snow over the tents, and then take to them again."

After two hours' work the tents were cleared. The men had worked from above, throwing out the snow over the sides of the mound, so that when they had finished the tents lay at the bottoms of sloping holes. A meal was then eaten, and lifting the upper covering of felt they lay down again and closed it over them. The sun was in the east, and they knew that some fifteen hours had elapsed since the gale had struck them. A mound of snow had marked where the horses were lying. They did not interfere with these, for Hassan said that the horses would be able to breathe through the snow, and probably the heat of their bodies had melted it immediately round them, and they would be much warmer than if the snow were cleared off. Before turning in Hassan and his men managed to erect the tent of their leaders. Lying as it did in a crater of snow, it was sheltered from the force of the wind. Holes were made with a dagger on each side of the slit that Angus had cut, and the edges tied together by a strip of leather. A couple of lamps and oil were taken from the sack in which they were carried, and also the bag of corn, and the little party after filling their vessels with snow and hanging them over the lamps, and closing the entrance to the tent, soon felt comfortable again.

"It has been a narrow escape," Sadut said. "Had it not been for your thinking of cutting the tent, and so enabling us to make our way out, the whole caravan would assuredly have perished. Now, we have only an imprisonment for another day or two at most, and can then proceed on our journey."

The next morning the gale had ceased, though the snow continued to fall. By mid-day the sky cleared, and all issuing out from their shelters prepared for a start. It took them an hour's work to extricate the horses; one of these, a weakly animal, had died, the others appeared uninjured by their imprisonment. All the vessels in the camp had been used for melting snow, and a drink of warm water with some flour stirred into it was given to each of the animals, and an extra feed of corn. As soon as they had eaten this, the baggage was packed on their backs, and the party moved forward. It was heavy work. The snow that had fallen since the force of the wind had abated was soft, and the animals sank fetlock-deep in it. But after three hours' travelling, they reached the end of the pass and began to descend. Two hours later they halted at a spot where a wall of rock afforded shelter against the wind from the north.

"Allah be praised that we have reached this point!" Hassan said. "Now the worst is over. I can see that we shall have another storm before an hour is past, they generally follow each other when they once begin. But here we are safe, and it was for this that I said 'No' when you proposed that we should halt at the mouth of the pass."

The tents were soon erected, great stones being placed on the lower edge to steady them against the gusts of wind. Then a diligent search was made for wood, and enough bushes were found to make a good fire. Strips of meat from one of the frozen sheep were cooked, the kettles were boiled, cakes of flour and ghee were baked, and the travellers made a hearty meal. The horses were each given half a bucket of warm water, thickened with flour, and a double feed of grain. Then all sat round the fire smoking and talking until it burned low, when, in spite of their sheep-skin coats, the bitter cold soon made itself felt. They had scarcely turned into their tents when the storm, as Hassan had predicted, burst. Except for an occasional gust they felt it but little, and slept soundly until morning, when they found that light snow had eddied down, and was lying two feet deep. The day was spent in cooking and attending to their own wants and those of the horses.

For two days they were prisoners, then the gale abated, and they continued their journey, and late that evening arrived at the village of Chol. Here they were received with hospitality by the natives, who were astounded that in such weather the caravan should have made its way over the pass. Resting here for two days, they travelled to Kala Sarkari. Sadut now took the lead, for the chief of the village seeing three horses loaded with merchandise demanded toll; but, Sadut announcing himself as a nephew of Dost Mahomed, and saying that the whole party were under his protection, the threatening attitude that the inhabitants began to assume was at once calmed. Four days' travel, with halts at small villages, took them to Balkh. Here, on declaring himself, Sadut was received with great honour, and was entertained at the governor's house, where Dost Mahomed was lying ill. No attention was bestowed upon Hassan and his followers, who walked behind him, and were reported as having been the means of his safety. Angus with his party kept some little distance in the rear and took up their quarters at a khan unnoticed, but when Sadut was seen to call early the next morning upon the Persian trader and remain with him for a considerable time, it was understood that they were under his protection, and no enquiries were made by the authorities of the town.

On the third day Sadut said to Angus: "I regret that the Ameer is ill. Had it not been for that he would have received you. I told him of the services you have rendered me, and that but for you a few hours would have ended my life. He said that he would like to see so noble a man, and to give him a fitting testimonial of gratitude for the service done to his sister's son. He requested me to bring you to him as soon as he is able to rise from his couch; and when he enters Cabul in triumph, as he assuredly will do ere long, he hopes that you will establish yourself there. I can promise you that your business shall flourish."

"I thank you heartily, Khan, for having spoken to the Ameer about me," Angus said gravely, "but I cannot receive a present from Dost Mahomed. I have intended many times to tell you more about myself, and I feel that I must do so now. You are my friend, and I cannot remain in a false position with you. As long as we were travelling together, no harm was done; it mattered not to you who was the man who had aided you in your extremity. But the case is different now. You were then a sorely wounded man, who needed what aid I could give you; now you are a close relation of Dost Mahomed, and a powerful Afghan chief, so the case is changed. Dost Mahomed, and no doubt yourself, know what is passing in Cabul by means of your friends there, who see all that is going on. The English general, on the other hand, knows nothing of what is passing beyond the ground patrolled by his cavalry.

"It was important for him to learn what was passing on this side of the mountains, and he selected me, an officer in his army, on account of my knowledge of Persian and Pushtoo, to cross the mountains and ascertain what prospect there was of Dost Mahomed's returning with an army to Cabul in the spring. I confide my secret to you as to a friend. You can see that it would be impossible for me to accept presents from Dost Mahomed in my character of a Persian merchant, and for the same reason I should abstain from questioning you, or even allowing you to give me any information as to the military preparations going on. To do so would be to take an unfair advantage of the chances that enabled me to be of service."

Angus had thought the matter over, and knew that while such work as he was engaged in would, if discovered, cost him his life, it would be regarded by the Afghans as a legitimate means of obtaining information; and although if caught he would be killed as an enemy, his action would be regarded as showing that he was a man of great bravery thus to place himself in the power of an enemy. This was the view, indeed, in which Sadut Khan regarded it.

"You have done well to tell me," he said gravely. "It was truly the act of a brave man not only to risk discovery here, but to undertake the terrible adventure of crossing the passes when winter had fairly set in, in order to obtain information for your general. Still more do I wonder that you should have burdened yourself with the care of an enemy, one who was fighting against your people. It was wonderful on the part of a Persian trader, it is far more so on the part of one against whom I was fighting, who is not of my religion, who was engaged upon an enterprise of such a nature, and to whom speed was a matter of the greatest importance. Had it not been for the slow pace at which you travelled with me, you might have crossed all the passes before they were blocked. I shall fight against your people as before, but I shall respect them now I see that although our religions differ, there are good things in their beliefs as in ours, and that even the Koran has no lessons in charity and kindliness stronger than those that you have learned from the teaching of your own religion.

"What I thought wonderful on the part of a Persian merchant is still more marvellous on the part of an English officer, who could have no possible interest in saving a dying man; and who, indeed, might have gained credit by delivering him into the hands of his countrymen, since so long as I was a prisoner in their hands, I should be a hostage for the quiet behaviour of my people. You can do no harm to us by your enquiries here; it is known by all on this side of the mountains that the Ameer will in the spring endeavour to turn out the usurper; it is known already to every sheik from Candahar to Jellalabad. Whether he will come with ten thousand or twenty thousand men matters little; when he appears, all Afghanistan will rise. Your generals might have been sure that it would be so without sending to make enquiries. I cannot tell you with what force we shall come. It will not be a great army; even in summer a large force could scarcely traverse the passes. It is not on the force that he will take from here that Dost Mahomed relies; it is on the host he will gather round him when he crosses the mountains. We have learned that the disaffection to Soojah is everywhere on the increase. There were many who did not love the Barukzyes, but they know now that things are worse instead of better since the change, for the man has made himself hated by his arrogance, his contempt for the people in general, and the extortion exercised by his tax-gatherers.

"There is no secret in all this, your own officers must know it. What you will not learn, for the decision will not be made until the spring, is the line by which the Ameer will advance. There are many passes by which he may then cross; or he may go round by Herat, and gather forces as he advances. Or again, he might go east, and crossing by the passes there, come down through Chitral to Jellalabad."

"That I can well understand, Khan. Of course I have already learned that there is no doubt that Dost Mahomed is preparing to cross the passes in the spring, and that he is sure of the support of the tribesmen on this side of the mountains."

"He could gather a very large army if he chose," Sadut said, "but the difficulty of transporting food for so large a body would be very great, I think that ten thousand men will be the utmost he could move with. I am doing no harm in telling you this, because you would soon learn it in the town, and it is certain that your people could not prevent his passing the Hindoo Koosh, since he has so many routes to choose from. His force is not like your army, which, moving with great trains of baggage, cannon, and ammunition, could only cross by one or two passes; we can move wherever our horses can climb. And now I will leave you, for I have some business to attend to; but I will return this evening."

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CHAPTER XII

TROUBLES THICKEN

Angus saw that as he could not hope to obtain further information, however long he might stay, and as he had fulfilled the main object of his mission by discovering that Dost Mahomed would not be content with remaining master of the northern province, but would certainly advance in the spring, he could do no good by remaining any longer. The information that he could give would enable Macnaghten and Burnes to show the Indian government that their intention of withdrawing more troops in the early spring would be disastrous; and it was with this special object in view that he had been sent. He had on the two previous days sold a portion of his goods, but had held out for the prices with which they were marked. He was now more willing to bargain, as he wished to travel in future as lightly as possible. Accordingly, before nightfall he had disposed of nearly half the stock with which he had started; but he had at the same time purchased a certain amount of goods from Turkestan, as these would be more appropriate as merchandise when he started from Balkh for Herat. Sadut came again in the evening.

"My friend," he said, "I have been thinking over your position. Doubtless you might stay here for some time without its being suspected that you were other than you seemed to be, but a chance word from one of your men might betray you, and as you have really learned all that there is to learn, it seems to me that there is no use in your tarrying any longer here. It is true that Dost Mahomed, for my sake, would protect you, even were you discovered. Still, you know the nature of our people, and were it rumoured that you were an infidel, you might be torn to pieces before either the Ameer or myself knew aught about it."

"I have come to the same conclusion. If I thought I could gain anything by remaining I should do so, whatever the risk; but as it would be useless to stay, I intend to leave to-morrow. I have a long journey to make via Herat; the sooner I am off the better. My men are now packing up my goods and preparing for a start at daylight."

"I felt so sure that this would be your course that I have brought with me an order from the Ameer to the governor and headmen of all towns and villages through which you may pass, enjoining them to give you good treatment, as he holds you in high esteem for having rendered most valuable services to me."

"I thank you very heartily," Angus replied. "This will greatly facilitate my journey and save me from all small annoyances. I trust that we shall meet again."

"I hope so indeed. Never shall I forget the debt of gratitude that I owe you. Perhaps some day I may be able to repay that debt to a small extent. Remember, that in case of need you may rely upon me to the utmost. At any rate, you must not refuse to accept this; it is a present from Dost Mahomed, not to an English officer, but to a Persian merchant who has saved the life of his sister's son. He talks continually while with me of the nobility of your action, and when I told him that you were going he had his turban brought and took out this gem, which was its chief ornament, and bade me hand it you in remembrance of the deed. I told him you had said that you would receive no present for a simple act of humanity. More I could not tell him without revealing your secret, though I know that it would be safe with him. You cannot refuse to take this. As for myself, I am here an exile far away from my own people, and have but this to give you as a token of my love. It is my signet ring. If you send it to me I will go through fire and water to come to you. My tribesmen will all recognize it, and will do anything in their power for its possessor."

Angus saw that, offered as it was, he should greatly hurt the Afghan's feelings if he refused the immense ruby surrounded by diamonds that Dost Mahomed had sent him.

"I will not refuse the gift of the Ameer so given to me, and shall cherish it as my most valued possession and the gift of a man whom I for one, and I may say most British officers, consider to be very badly treated by us. I know from Sir Alexander Burnes that Dost Mahomed was most anxious for our alliance. Shah Soojah is as unpopular among us as among his own people. Of course, as soldiers, it is not our business to concern ourselves with politics; that is a matter for the government only. Still we cannot but have our feelings, and I am sure that should the fortune of war ever place Dost Mahomed in our hands he would receive honourable treatment. Your gift I shall prize as highly, as a token of our warm friendship, and trust that the time may never come when I have to put its virtue to the test, though I well know that I could in necessity rely upon any help that you might be able to give me."

After talking for some time of the best route to follow, Sadut Khan took an affectionate leave, and Angus started the next morning with his party. Before setting out he bestowed handsome gifts upon Hassan and his followers, whom he had learned to like greatly for the devotion they had shown to Sadut and the energy and courage with which they had worked during the journey. Travelling from twenty to five-and-twenty miles a day, with occasional halts, he reached Cabul after two months of travel. His journey had been greatly facilitated by the order that he carried from Dost Mahomed. He had not entered Herat, as it was probable that he would be recognized there. Avoiding the city, he travelled by the same route as before to Girishk, and then took a road running a few miles north of Candahar and falling into the main road at Kelat-i-Ghilzye.