The visitors were Army Officers and Chiefs from all parts of the country; Turkomans, Hazaras, and Afghans. I rather wished myself out of it, fearing that my visit had been inopportune.
At the end of the room in an arm-chair by an open window sat His Highness. Outside were the guard and a crowd of some hundreds of people. In a chair on the Amîr’s left, and at some little distance, sat Prince Habibullah: he was attired in a scarlet uniform with plumed helmet. Everyone else sat on the ground. On His Highness’s right were Prince Nasrullah, Sirdar Usuf, the Amîr’s uncle, and the British Agent: then came the principal military officers; and all round the room the Chiefs and Maleks.
Seeing the British Agent I was relieved, feeling sure that, after all, my visit was not an intrusion. I could not but admire His Highness’s tact in the way in which, having allowed me to be present unofficially in a State Durbar, he considered the European feeling of dignity in allowing me a chair with no one between himself and me; and considered also the jealous pride of the Afghans in placing me in the window, and, as it were, outside the circle.
His Highness addressed his audience for some little time, chiefly in Pushtu but partly in Persian. It did not concern me, and I paid no attention. Glancing out of the window where I was sitting I saw one of His Highness’s guard stationed there with fixed bayonet. As he caught my eye he salaamed and smiled. I could not think at first who he was: then I remembered I had attended him in Turkestan for double pneumonia when he was very dangerously ill. He had recovered, and I saw no more of him till this day: he had grown so plump that at first I did not recognize him.
The Banquet.
When the talking was over sweetmeats were brought, and His Highness sent me a plateful from his table. Outside were bands of music: at one time a native band with flageolets and drums was playing, then would follow a brass band, afterwards the bagpipes playing Scotch tunes. In the Hall at the lower end were dancing boys, singers, and musicians. These continued their performances during lunch, which was brought in at three o’clock. For me there was a slight innovation. His Highness ordered a dinner-napkin to be placed on the little table in front of me. The waiter did not quite understand the management of it, for he insisted upon one edge of it being put on the table under the plate and the other on my knees: finally, however, I was allowed to have it my own way, chiefly by the Armenian’s instrumentality: learning all about these things was part of his education in England.
After dinner came fruit—cherries and mulberries, and finally cigarettes and tea. Then I asked permission to withdraw and came away.
In August the cholera, which had returned to Kabul, began again to attain serious proportions. I had drawn up with some care a Paper on the precautions to be adopted to prevent a return of the disease. I was perforce compelled to allow the Hindustani Interpreter—the Gnat—to take possession of it for the purpose of translation. I need scarcely say that I never saw or heard anything of the paper afterwards. The Armenian at this time was very busily employed in translating for some others of the Englishmen, for the supply of Interpreters was lamentably small. In the Hospitals I, of course, could manage without one, but for conversations with His Highness or for the translation of writings my knowledge of the language was inadequate.
Though none of the English were seized with cholera, the climate of Kabul affected the health of most of them deleteriously. Some had fever severely: others bowel complaints; and the gardener, Mr. Wild, a Yorkshireman, who had been working very hard in the sun, laying out gardens and digging, went down with heat apoplexy. He was dangerously ill, and I attended him; but some interesting and engaging scoundrel spread the report that he was shirking his work and lying intoxicated in his room. As he received an order to leave the service I wrote to His Highness detailing the facts of the case. His Highness at once desired Wild to be brought to Paghman, as soon as his condition would allow. When he was taken there His Highness most kindly kept him in the cool air of the mountains until he recovered. After this Wild, by my advice, wore a turban in the sun instead of a solar topee. A pith topee would have been a sufficient protection, but there was none to be got in the bazaars, and sending money to Peshawur for anything was a procedure of doubtful success.
Illness of Prince Nasrullah.