From the Indus to the Tigris

by H. W. Bellew

19th January.—From Bághwána we marched twenty-six miles to Lákoryán. Leaving Kamál Khán, we followed a small stream over a succession of fields of young corn, just sprouting above the surface, and then, passing some walled pomegranate gardens fringed with willow-trees, entered amongst low hills set close together on either side of an intervening drainage gully. At about three miles we came to the spring-head of the little stream we had followed from camp. The spring issues at the foot of some bare rocky bluffs, and forms a small pool round which grow some eight or ten date-palms, conspicuous as being the only trees in the vicinity.

From this point we turned to the right, and proceeding due north over some very rough ground, dropped into a narrow ravine between high banks of bare rock; and following it some distance, emerged upon the wide plateau or tableland of Loghai, the village of the same name standing away to the west. In the hills to the south-west, near the village of Ferozabad, are the Khappar lead-mines. They are said to give employment to about two hundred men.

There are no trees visible on the Lohgai plateau, nor is there any jangal, but the surface is thinly sprinkled with a very stunted growth of the camel-thorn (Rhazzia stricta, Withiana congulans), two or three kinds of salsola, and a coarse grass growing in tufts. Here and there, too, are some patches of cultivation.

From this we passed through some low rocky ridges on to a similar but more extensive tableland, divided by low ridges of rock into the plateau of Mughali, Tútah, and Záwah. We started from Kamál Khán at 7.50 A.M., and arrived at the entrance to the Záwah defile at 10.10 A.M., thus, reckoning the pace of our horses at four miles an hour, making the distance about nine and a half miles.

We halted here for breakfast, on the edge of a little stream of brackish water, whilst the baggage went on ahead. Close by is a ridge of bare rock without a particle of vegetation on it, and along its base are the traces of a very ancient village. The foundation walls are very massive, and built substantially of dressed stone; the surface everywhere around is covered with bits of red pottery.

At 1.10 P.M. we mounted our camels, and left Záwah by a narrow winding defile, down which flows the thready rivulet on which we had halted. After proceeding up the defile some distance, we passed over some very rocky ground by a rough track, and rose suddenly to the crest of a ridge of hills running north and south. Descending a little from this, we reach the tableland of Jiwán. This is an open plateau, and, unlike the others, is thickly covered with pasture herbs and bushes, amongst which are interspersed small isolated patches of ploughed land. We saw no villages, however, nor any signs of a camp in the vicinity, though our native escort assured us that there were hundreds of tumans hidden away in the nooks and hollows of the mountains, to which the Brahoe retire at this season, with their flocks, for shelter from the cold winds that blow over the open country.

Traversing this plateau, we crossed a deep ravine, opposite a cavern excavated in its high bank of shingle, and known as Duzdán ná Khond, or “the robber’s retreat.” Here my camel showed signs of fatigue, and became so shaky on his legs, that I became apprehensive of some misfortune, and, to avoid the chance of breaking my neck against the rocks, relieved him of my weight, and mounted my horse, which was being led along close behind us. The severity of the weather and the want of his accustomed forage, combined with the roughness of the roads and our land marches, had told unfavourable upon the poor brute, and it was as much as he could do to keep up with our party till we reached Kandahar. Here the milder climate and several days’ rest brought him round to his former self, and he afterwards carried me down to Baghdad, where he passed into the possession of the camel’s best friend—an Arab.

Beyond the ravine we crossed a ridge of rocky hills by a very rough and narrow path, and emerged upon the Lákoryán tableland, an enclosed plateau that rises considerably up to the hills on the north and west. We passed a good deal of cultivation on our route across it, and at 4.30 P.M. camped—or rather, waited for our camp, for the baggage did not come up till 7.30 P.M., by which time it was quite dark—near a spring at the foot of the hills to the north-west. There is no village nor other sign of habitation here, except a small enclosure containing a few roofless huts, a few hundred yards from the spring at which we have taken up our position for the night. We passed a large gaur-band on the plateau, and at the foot of the hills towards the north-east saw a great collection of them. It was too late for us to go and explore them; but, from what we could see, they appeared to mark the site of some ancient city. The dark lines of their massive walls are very conspicuous against the lighter colours of the hillside.

Whilst waiting the arrival of our tents, we collected some dry bushes of the camel-thorn and some kinds of salsola, and made a fire to warm ourselves, and point out our whereabouts to the baggagers, who were yet some way behind, for to the repeated shouts and calls of our party there came no response.

There are no supplies procurable here, and the water is very limited in quantity, and, though not brackish, of decidedly inferior quality. By previous arrangement some fuel and fodder had been collected here for our party, but the supply fell very far short of our requirements. The fodder was distributed in small quantities amongst the troopers of our escort, and the fuel—the few faggots there were—was mostly appropriated by our cook. Along the raised banks of some fields near the enclosure above mentioned were six or seven circular vaulted pits excavated in the ground. They are used as storehouses for grain or straw or chaff, and are entered through a small hole at the top. This aperture is only slightly raised above the level of the ground, and is covered by a lid plastered over with mud cement until required to be removed. These grain-pits were examined in the hopes that they might enable us to increase the rations served out to our cattle; but, to our disappointment, they were all found empty, like the country itself.