English: Identifier: atcourtofamrna00gray

Title: At the court of the Amîr : a narrative Year: 1895 (1890s) Authors: Gray, John Alfred Abd al-Rahman Khan, Amir of Afghanistan, d. 1901 Subjects: Personal Narratives Publisher: London : R. Bentley and Son Contributing Library: Francis A. Countway Library of Medicine Digitizing Sponsor: Open Knowledge Commons and Harvard Medical School

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Text Appearing Before Image: ous bitumen. Doubtless,they were used as temples and dwelling-places forthe Buddhist priests. Many of the other caves arein soft sandstone and conglomerate. These couldbe easily cut, the hard conglomerate forming anatural roof for rooms duoc in the softer sandstonebeneath. Presumably they are of later origin thanthose cut in the harder material. Narrow, almostimpossible staircases lead up to the caves, and theredwell the poorer Hazara agriculturists of the Bamianvalley. There are cave-dwellers in many parts ofAfghanistan, and it is men of this kind, who combinethe professions of agriculturist and warrior, whowould be likely to cause more trouble to an invaderof Afghanistan than would the regular army of theAmir, During the last Afghan war the Englishwere at first much puzzled by the rapidity withwhich thousands of armed men would. appear, and,if occasion required, the equal rapidity with whichthey v/ould vanish. All that could be found washere and there a peaceful peasant hard at work

Text Appearing After Image: lO K^^ r K5; SI r^ << < en < m O OU The Pass of the Tooth-breaker. 145 in the fields with his mattock—the rifle was leftat home. The furniture of one of these rock dwellingsis simple enough. The most prominent featureis the great ornamented earthen jar, in whichgrain and provisions are stored: a strip of carpetoccupies the place of honour in the centre of thefloor: a few copper cooking utensils, a chillim,an Afghan samovar for tea, and a rough charpoy, complete the establishment. In the Bamian valley, fertile, full of interestand with a delightful climate, we travelled delibe-rately, taking two days to traverse the ten milesor so. As we rode, my Armenian told me manystories. I do not know what they were about; I didntthen. One only I understood. He said that once ona march, utterly wearied, he went to sleep on horse-back. It is thrown out, said he, meaning himself;and pointing to his forehead, with a mild smile,he said, He is broke, and blood is come. Ilaughed, and asked

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