From the Indus to the Tigris

by H. W. Bellew

’Alam Khán was the son of Mirzá Khán, chief of a shepherd tribe dwelling in the Nahroe hills north of Bampúr. He came into Sistan with no great gathering, and was granted the lands of Gód, Calá Nan, Burj ’Alam (restored from ruins and named after himself), and two or three other villages, as military fiefs. ’Alam Khán, on the subsequent decline of the Kayáni family, declared his independence, and on his death was succeeded by his son, Dost Muhammad. This latter died in 1857, and was succeeded by his brother, Sharíf, the present chief. They were all Sunni Muhammadans, and exercised a subordinate influence on the politics of the country till the arrival of the Persians. But now, since their occupation of the country, they have become Shia Muhammadans, and attained to the foremost importance in the country, though numerically they are the weakest party.

Burj ’Alam is a walled town built on the slope of a high clay bank that here bounds the hollow to the northward. The walls are crenated and loopholed, but, from the situation of the town, the houses in the upper part are commanded over the walls from the low ground to the east. The houses are crowded together in a confused jumble of domed huts, and are overlooked by the citadel, built on an eminence at the north-west angle. The town is said to shelter four hundred families.

6th March.—Burj ’Alam to Wásilán, six miles. After clearing the walled vineyards and corn-fields about our camp, we came to a great canal flowing westward, and in parts overflowing, between raised banks at twelve or fourteen feet above the level of the plain. We followed it a short distance, and then turned to the north-east, over a promontory of high clay banks covered with pebbles similar to those seen in the desert, and again descending to the low land, picked our way amongst bogs and pools to the banks of the canal at Kimak, half-way on the march. The pools, formed by overflowings from the canal, were swarming with all sorts of wild-fowl. Disturbed at their busy morning meal by our approach, they rose in dense clouds that darkened the sky, and, whirling overhead in rapid flights, filled the air with an uproar of discordant sounds, heard far above the shouts, curses, and imprecations of our camp-followers, as they floundered and struggled in the passage of the canal.

We ourselves were ferried across on the native tútín, to a narrow landing directly under the walls of the Kimak fort, at a spot where, for a short distance, the stream flows flush with the plain, though both above and below it it flows between raised banks considerably higher than the general level of the surface. The tútín is a very clumsy raft or float, constructed of bulrushes bound together in bundles, and strengthened by tamarisk stakes. It derives its name from the tút, or rush, of which it is made, and is about eight feet long by three wide, and one and a half deep. The ends of the bundles of rushes are at one end coiled over and pegged to the upper surface by long wooden pins, and the body of the raft is strengthened by cross ribs of tamarisk above and below, fastened together through its substance by cords passing between the bundles, which are arranged lengthways, whilst the form is secured by long tamarisk staves fastened at the sides, as is shown in the annexed sketch.

There were only two of these rafts at the ferry. Ourselves and boxes were ferried across on them on successive trips, and the rest of our camp and escort forded the stream a little lower down, where the water reached to the necks of the men. Each raft could only accommodate two passengers and two small boxes, with one man to pole it across the stream. We each sat upon a box, and the weight of all sunk the raft to the level of the water. We were obliged to sit perfectly still in the centre to prevent a capsize, a catastrophe that was more than once threatened in our short transit by the clumsy movements of the wherryman with his pole. After landing on the other side, we passed round the walls of Kimak, and through some small orchards and vineyards to the banks of the canal a little farther up, where we halted to watch the passage of our baggage and escort.

The whole of our party comprised about a hundred and thirty horsemen, sixty or seventy camels, more than half that number of mules and baggage-ponies, and about thirty footmen. The camp equipage was more or less wetted, and several mishaps occurred, but no serious loss or accident; and in three hours and a half the whole of our party were safely across the Kohak canal, or, as it is here called, Mádariáb (mother of the water). Where we crossed, the canal is between thirty and forty yards wide; it is said to have an average depth of nine feet here, and is only fordable in two or three places. The ford at Kimak was very narrow, and most of the mishaps that occurred were owing to the cattle getting off the direct line into deep water.

The Kohak canal, as its name implies, is taken off the Helmand above a weir thrown across the river at that place. In reality it drains the river into its own channel to the extent of diverting its stream, for very little, at this season, escapes over the river, and the river bed beyond it is a mere succession of stagnant pools, that cease far short of reaching the pool, or lake marsh, into which the Helmand in its ordinary course disembogues. The canal traverses the plain westward, and gives off some large branches, which are unfordable. From these an intricate network of smaller canals branch off, and ramify the whole country south of the Naizár, fertilising it to an extraordinary degree.

Kimak is a small village enclosed within crenated and loopholed walls, and protected by a citadel at the south-west corner. It is the residence of Sherdil Khán, the brother of Sharíf Khán of Burj ’Alam, and is now held by a party of Persian soldiers. They certainly seem to have established themselves here pretty strongly, for I observed that they thrashed the people very freely right and left, with an amount of submission on their part I was not prepared to see. The fact is, Persian rule is so stern, and their punishments so severe and so horribly cruel, that an unusual amount of oppression and violence are endured by the serfs before they are goaded into resistance.

From Kimak, leaving the ridge of clay mounds called Atashgáh half a mile to our left, we proceeded north-eastwards, and at three miles camped at Wásilán, a small village, around which are some Baloch huts. Our route all the way led over corn-fields flooded with water, and we had to pick a path to avoid the deep mud.