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290 ghanistan. Each belled leader was led by a man on foot, and other camels were fastened one to another by long guide-ropes. Groups of shaggy caravan-men paused to pray by a wayside shrine at the outset of their journey, and then trudged on, they no better groomed, no more sociable or joyful than their camels.

Our bearer was in a panic of fright. "Yes, you must drive fast," he said, with chattering teeth and timorous looks over his shoulder. "I tell you true. I am your servant, not your enemy. These Kabul-ly men are all Russians, enemies of the country, bad and dangerous. They shoot—bang! They kill—bang! every time. They always rob. Hold fast your money. Let no one see your watch to-day. These Kabul-ly men are not men. They are animals—wild animals of the jungle. They fight, they cut, they shoot!—oh! oh!"

"But there is the sowar and his gun. We need not be afraid," I said.

"Yes," said the trembling Hindu, "that is just the danger. All these Pathans are devils. Sowar one day, robber next day. They take England's money; shoot and rob England's men. They are all Russians, enemies of the country. Just now the sowar is England's soldier. Four-o'clock gun goes bang! and he is wild man again, England's enemy." The smooth, hard carriage-road wound farther in among the yellow hills, and the camel-train was soon far behind and out of sight. We were as an advance-guard, the first passengers of the day, and the riflemen sitting on the rocks and perched on