On seeing the turbans and dark faces, Wodrow thought all was over with him, and his hand went at once to the hilt of his sword, and he longed for the ring of Gyges, or anything that would render him invisible.
But the men among whom he found himself evidently took him for an Afghan, and evinced no sign of hostility, though they were all well armed.
They proved to be five merchants from Ghuznee, having camels laden with those dried fruits which constitute the principal article of trade between Afghanistan and India, and these, together with oranges, citrons, tobacco, and jars of red and yellow Derehnur wine, they were now conveying to the banks of the Indus to exchange for British goods, or sell, if possible, at the first British fort.
Like themselves, their syces and bheesties (grass-cutters and water-carriers) were all well armed, but were Hindoos, and with the whole party Robert Wodrow had no occasion for much fear, as his residence in the house of the Hakim, together with his knowledge of the natives, picked up elsewhere, stood him in good stead now.
'What are you?' asked one of the merchants.
'A tchopper of Cabul,' replied Wodrow.
'Then where is your horse?'
'He fell under me on the way,' replied Wodrow, seeing at once his mistake, for in Afghanistan, as in Persia, State despatches are carried by mounted messengers called tchoppers, or mounted couriers, and private letters by cossids, or foot-messengers, who will sometimes travel seventy leagues in four consecutive days.
'Then you are the bearer of a royal despatch?'
'From the Ameer, whom God long preserve, to the officer commanding the outpost at the Lundi-Khana Kotal. In the name of the Prophet, give me some food; I am starving.'