The Tarin tribe comprises four great divisions, viz., the Abdáls or Durranis, the Tor Tarins, the Spin Tarins, and the Zard Tarins or Zarrins. The first occupy Kandahar and the valleys to its north-west. The second are settled in Peshín, of which they hold four-fifths, and in the Arghasán district south of the river Tarnak. The Spin Tarins occupy the Surkháb hills and the valleys at their eastern and western bases. And the Zarrins are settled in the valley of Zhob and in part of the Arghasán district. All except the Abdáls are mostly nomads, who retire with their flocks to the hills in summer, and move down to the plains for the winter. From their camps which we saw on the plain—and they were remarkably distinct on its white surface, the tents being all black—their numbers are nothing like what they are estimated.

Throughout this march the air was extremely cold. Icicles repeatedly formed on our beards and mustaches, and hung in long pendants from the necks of our camels. Our hands and feet were painfully benumbed for want of efficient protection. Several of our Afghan escort, I observed, wore thick felt casings inside their capacious top-boots.

On the march, before reaching Hydarzai, we passed a couple of khinjak trees over a roadside shrine, at the foot of a low mound. Their trunks were studded with innumerable iron nails and wooden pegs driven into the bark—the tokens by which pilgrim-visitors ratify their vows to the saint.

From Hykalzai we marched next day fifteen miles to Aranbí Kárez. Our route was north-westerly across the plain, at this time everywhere covered with snow. The surface is marked here and there by the traces of cultivation, but for the most part is occupied by a thin scrub of wormwood, saltworts, and camel-thorn. At about half-way we crossed the Lora rivulet, which flowed in a slow stream twenty feet wide and two feet deep. Its bottom is soft and sandy, and abounds in quicksands. The channel of the river is much wider than its actual bed, and is formed by high shelving banks of clay. Over these are several narrow paths down to the river. We found them very slippery, and many of our escort and baggage animals fell in the descent, but without any material injury.

This Lora, or the Peshín Lora as it is called, drains the north-western portion of the plain, and receives as a tributary the Surkháb, which drains its eastern tracts. The united streams then flow over the plain south-westward towards Shorawak, being joined en route by the Cushlác Lora and the Shál Lora. From Shorawak the river flows northwestward towards the Helmand, but is lost in the sands of the desert before it reaches that river. None of the Loras are much utilised for purposes of irrigation in their own valleys, but on reaching Shorawak their united stream is almost exhausted by the quantities drawn off from it for the fields. Shál and Peshín are irrigated by kárez streams and springs from the mountains, but the former are much more fertile than the latter. In Peshín one misses the gardens and trees so plentiful in Shál, and finds instead a wide pasture tract more or less uncultivated, and, in place of villages, dotted with nomad camps. Most of the irrigated land in Peshín is in the hands of the Saggids, who have for many generations been settled in this valley. They pay one-third the produce of their lands in kind to Government as revenue. The nomad Tarins, who hold the unirrigated tracts, pay only one-fifth to Government. The soil of Peshín is a red stiff clay, highly charged with salts of sorts. In the tract between Aranbí Kárez and Sra Calá quantities of alimentary salt are obtained from the soil, and sold in the Kandahar market at one and a half to two rupees per man of eighty pounds. The salt is dissolved in great pits filled with water. The clear solution is then filled into earthen pots and boiled down to a granular mass, which takes the form of the pot.

Peshín, owing to its inferior soil, is not a fertile valley, but corn is grown in quantity sufficient to meet the wants of its people. The seed is first cast over the surface and then ploughed over. In Shorawak the seed is sown by means of a kind of drill. It consists of a stiff leather funnel fixed to the tail of the plough, and furnished with a series of holes at the bottom. From this the grain drops into the furrow as it is cut by the plough.

The kangaroo-rat or jerboa, here called khanrai, abounds in Peshín, and is trapped for the sake of its fur. The dalkafak, a species of tree-marten with a short tail, is also found here and in the hills around.

After crossing the Lora, the Saggid left us to pay a visit to his father’s family at Pitao, a collection of five villages at the foot of the hills a few miles to the right of our road. His own sister was amongst them, and as he had not seen them for more than five years, he could not pass the home of his youth without going to see its inmates. He was not long about his business, for he rejoined us before we reached camp; and to our expressions of surprise at his haste, and hopes that he had not curtailed his visit on our behalf, he replied, “No; I only went to see my sister, and to come away at once. My uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, and cousins there on my father’s side alone exceed two hundred in number; and, to tell you the truth, I am afraid to go amongst them, for they always want some token whereby to keep me in their memories.”

Snow and sleet showered upon us nearly throughout this march, and the hills around were completely obscured by heavy clouds. On the line of march we passed a number of nomad camps of the Kákarr and Tor Tarin tribes, and some hundreds of their black tents dotted the surface, in clusters of four or five together, on either hand of our route. We dismounted at one of these tents or kizhdí to examine the interior, and were surprised to find how comfortable, roomy, clean, and warm it was, notwithstanding that camels, men, goats, sheep, and poultry were sheltered under one roof with their human owners, and sacks of grain and other provisions. The tent we examined was about thirty feet long by fifteen wide. The centre was supported by slim poles seven feet high, and the sides by others four feet high, and across them were passed light ribs of wood. Over this framework was stretched a single sheet of tough and waterproof black haircloth, woven in lengths a couple of yards wide, and sewn together. The interior was divided into two portions by a row of sacks of corn. The one was excavated to a depth of two feet for the camels and oxen, &c.; the other was smooth, and clean swept. In its centre was a circular pit for fire, for the smoke of which there was no outlet except at the openings at either end of the tent. Around the sides were spread coarse woollen druggets and piles of the household property, and at the end opposite were set a couple of cots. The family we found to consist of three women, two men, and two boys. The women were much fairer than the men, and, with their general look of hardiness, were well featured, displaying much more character in their faces than the men. They were all large-limbed and robust people, and certainly lead the healthiest and happiest of lives.

Snow ceased to fall in the afternoon, and towards sunset the sky cleared, and we got a good view of the country around. Near our camp are the villages of Utmankhel, Torkhel, and Majai, all belonging to the Tor Tarins. Along the foot of the hills extending to the north-eastward are Pitao (a collection of five hamlets close together), Semzai and Alizai, all held by Saggids. They lie at the foot of Toba mountain. To their eastward are seen old and new Bazár and Sraculá on the plain.