fine old man, with (like all true Afghans) a very Jewish type of countenance and a good manner. He was humble enough, and tried to make all sorts of excuses, none of which I informed him I thought at all good, but as the water had been turned on, and he had apologised for the delay, I dismissed him with a warning for the future. Several of the other chiefs came in to make their salaam to me, and to promise all sorts of things for the future. An Afghan is, however, so natural a liar that no one thinks of believing them, and among themselves they are never weak enough to put any trust one in the other, and in this they are quite wise, as a more treacherous lying set of beings do not, I suppose, exist on the face of the world. We marched from Mel Kharez at 2 p.m., a beautiful afternoon, to Abdool Rahmon, which is 12½ miles off. The road lay through an undulating valley, on the edges of which there were some signs of cultivation. Four miles from Mel Kharez is a range of hills called the Ghlo Kotal, at which we had hoped and expected the enemy would have made a stand, but they had bolted on the first sign of our troops approaching. After crossing the Kotal we descended into the Takt-i-Pul plain, and reached Abdool Rahmon about 6 o'clock. There is the usual Fort at this place, and it is well and sufficiently garrisoned, and its defences are quite good enough for the requirements. Abdool Rahmon is 26 miles from Kandahar, so I determined I would ride in there ahead of my party next morning, leaving them with the baggage to do the distance in the usual 2 marches. I got the native chief of the place, a certain Gholām Jan, to lend me a trotting camel on which to send my bag and bedding into Kandahar, and arranged to ride Rufus the first stage and a cavalry horse the last one into Kandahar. An order from Kandahar prohibits officers attempting to go alone, so I took an escort of a non-commissioned officer and 4 cavalry soldiers with me, the escort being relieved at the next stage.