It must be a powerful reason, such as the fear of being poisoned or damned, that prevents the richer Afghans from employing European medical aid, for they have to pay the hakims, whereas at the hospital no fees or presents were received, and it is not the nature of an Afghan to pay for a thing if he can get it for nothing. [Illustration] CHAPTER IX. THE MARCH TO TURKESTAN. Jealousy and its results. Sport among the Afghans. The Prince hawking. The “Sportsmen” among the mountains. Wild-fowl shooting. Order to join the Amîr in Turkestan. Preparations. The start. Camp at Chiltan. The Banquet. The Nautch dance. Salaams by the Villagers. Among the Hindu Kush mountains. The camp in the Hazara country. The dismal night. Courtesy of Jan Mahomed. The hungry morning. Mountain paths. Iron spring. The underground river and the Amîr’s offer. The Red mountain and the Deserted City. Camp in the Valley of Bamian. The English prisoners of 1837. The Petrified Dragon. The Colossal Idols: their construction and probable origin. The Cave-dwellers. The Pass of the “Tooth breaker.” Ghuzniguk. Story of Ishak’s Rebellion. Fording the River. Tash Kurghán: the Shave and the Hospital. “The Valley of Death.” The Plains of Turkestan and the heat thereof. The Mirage. Arrival at Mazar. The House. Story of the death of Amîr Shere Ali. [Sidenote: Jealousy: Revenge.] About a month after our arrival in Kabul an incident occurred which, though gruesome in its details, I cannot refrain from relating on account of the light which it throws upon the nature of the Afghan. One of the soldiers had made a favourite of a boy in the town. Some time afterwards the boy was seen to associate with another man in the cantonment. At once the jealousy of the soldier was aroused. He taxed the boy with it, and in a moment of jealous anger he drove his knife into him, killing him instantly. Forthwith the mother of the lad appealed to Prince Habibullah for justice and revenge. She claimed the life of the murderer. The Prince heard the case in detail, and, according to the Afghan law (an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth), granted the woman’s request. The soldier was hurried off to the execution ground, close to the hospital where I was. His hands were fastened behind him, and he was tied in a sitting posture in a chair. A knife was handed to the woman: she seized the man’s beard, wrenched his head back, and with a cry of “Allah, akbar,” cut his throat. Then, flinging down the knife, she plunged her hands in the spirting stream, and lapped the blood into her mouth. On Friday, the Mahomedan Sabbath, there being no work in the workshops, Mr. Pyne and I went for a ride along the beautiful lanes fringed with poplars, which lie between the fields around Kabul.