Under the absolute Amir

by Frank A. Martin

It was in Jelalabad that I first saw the Usbeg game of “Buz-bazee” (literally, “goat play”). It is played on horseback, and the first thing done is to kill a goat or sheep by cutting its throat in the usual manner while the Usbeg horsemen gather around. When this has been done, a signal is given, and all the riders make a dash at the carcase, which lies on the ground. The man who gets it flings it across the saddle in front of him, and goes off at full gallop, the others chasing him until one or another catches him up, and then ensues a struggle, while still at full gallop, for the possession of the body. The man who gets it is chased in turn by the others, and when the carcase falls to the ground, as it does at times, it is picked up as the rider gallops by, the horseman riding with one leg and arm thrown over the horse to enable him to reach low down to the ground. So the game goes on until the limbs are wrenched apart and the victors ride off at last with the portion they have been able to secure, and which the speed and agility of their horses prevents others from taking from them.

The usual journey from Jelalabad to Peshawar occupies five days. Girdi Kutch, the first stopping-place, is twenty miles; Basawal, eighteen miles; Daka, the Afghan frontier post, sixteen miles; and Lundi Kotal, the British frontier post on the far side of the Khyber Pass, twenty miles. The last day’s journey is from Lundi Kotal through the Khyber Pass, and past Jumrood, the fort which guards the mouth of the Khyber on the Indian side, and on into Peshawar, where one enters once more into civilization.

From Jelalabad to the Khyber mountains the country is a comparatively flat one, and for the greater part of the journey the route follows the course of the Kabul river, which is here broad and shallow, though the current is swift, on account of the considerable fall in level between Jelalabad and Peshawar. This portion of the river contains several whirlpools, which render navigation a matter of difficulty and danger to all who are not well conversant with the currents. The whirlpools are said to be mostly situated in the narrow gorges of the Khyber mountains, through which the river flows, and that it is here where the skill of the raftsmen is called into play to prevent sudden disaster, for the swiftness of the current gives little opportunity of correcting a mistake in steering.

Jelalabad is one of the few spots in Afghanistan where there are many trees. The forests are situated some few miles from the city, and may be seen covering some of the hills in the distance. The timber, a description of the pine tree, after being cut down, is roughly squared into logs and dragged down to the river, where they are formed into rafts and floated down into Peshawar for sale. A small amount of produce is also carried on the rafts and sold in India.

On one of my journeys down to Peshawar the governor of Jelalabad, by order of the Amir, sent me several large melons which are grown in the district. The size of the melons was so great, about two feet long and one and a half feet in diameter, that I had no means of carrying them with me, and on this being represented to the governor, he gave instructions for them to be carried by raft into Peshawar and handed over to me there. The raftsmen told me that they would be in Peshawar twelve hours after leaving Jelalabad, and as the distance between the two points is about a hundred miles, some idea of the speed of the current may be gained.

The water of the river is fed by the melted snow from the mountains, and is intensely cold, and I was told that any one who attempted to swim across the river would be carried so far down by the current before reaching the other side that the coldness of the water would make him numbed and powerless, and he would drown. The people of the district, when they have to cross the river, do so on musaks distended with air, which keep the body clear of the water, while allowing the use of the legs and arms as a means of propulsion; but even then the limbs get so numbed and paralyzed that only strong men can make use of the musak as a means of crossing the river, or floating down to another village some miles lower on the same side; and I was told that the frequent use of it brings on rheumatism in the legs and arms—and one can quite understand that it would do so.

The musak is the same as that used by watermen all over the East for carrying water. It is made of a goat or sheepskin, which is treated to make the skin soft and flexible, and afterwards sown up, so that it has the original form of the animal, minus head and legs; the joints are made watertight, and the whole skin when distended by air being blown into it forms a very buoyant vessel. The villager lies face downwards on it, and pushing off into deep water, strikes out with arms and legs, much as if he was swimming, and those I have seen travelling down the river in this way were going at a speed which I estimated at a good ten miles an hour.

Close to Jelalabad, where the river narrows as it runs between some low hills, the villagers have stretched a thick rope across from bank to bank, fastening it to large iron bars fixed in the rocks at the side, and by means of this rope they ferry a rickety-looking raft, which is built up of frail-looking poles roughly tied together, and supported on musaks, from one bank to the other, and carry freight, passengers, and animals as required. The rope is a country-made one of unequal thickness, and ragged with loose strands, and has a good deal of stress thrown on it by the swift current which surges against the raft, and swings it from side to side on its passage, and it struck me that a passenger addicted to nerves would find the crossing a rather trying time. I was not surprised to learn that the raft occasionally broke away with disastrous results to those on it, for few of the people can swim.