The Lieutenant-General Commanding is now out on a visit to the force under Brigadier-General Baker, which is collecting supplies of forage from the villages along the Ghazni Road. Leaving Brigadier-General Macpherson in command at Sherpur, Sir F. Roberts, accompanied by his personal Staff and Colonel Macgregor, Chief of the Staff, with a small escort of ten men of the 14th Bengal Lancers, rode through the Cabul gorge on the afternoon of the 22nd, and, following the road which traverses the Chardeh Valley, made for the village of Argandeh, about sixteen miles away. The Chardeh Valley, which we passed through, gave evidence on all sides of that fertility which has earned for it the name of the “Garden of Cabul;” but it is so late in the year that only autumn tints mark the fields on either side. Here and there the young wheat is shooting up, but the small green blades are scarcely strong enough to do more than chequer the general area of brownness. The long lines of willows and poplars which line the hundreds of watercourses threading the valley, are mere skeletons of trees; their leaves rustling down in eddying circles as the cold wind sweeps blusteringly from the snowy tops of the Pughman Hills. The valley is shut in on all sides by high mountain ranges, the hills which guard Cabul from approach on the west seeming to rise perpendicularly from the plain. The range above Indikee village is overtopped by the sheer cliffs which dominate the plain between Zahidabad and Charasia, and these are already covered with snow, which gleams out in startling whiteness above the barren rocks in the foreground. Far away to the north lies the Hindu Kush, with its long undulating sky-line similarly snow-laden, the lower intermediate hills of Kohistan being still mere brown masses jostling each other in grand confusion. Looking towards Bamian the view is bounded scarcely ten miles away by the Pughman spur, which boasts of several lofty peaks rising in sullen grandeur from the hills about Argandeh. For fully twelve miles, or about as far as Kila Kazi, the road is an extremely good one; stones, the curse of Afghanistan, being few and far between. After this the dry bed of a snow-fed stream has frequently to be crossed or followed, and boulders are not uncommon. Guns, however, could be got along without much trouble, and if necessary a new track on a higher level, across the cultivated land, could be laid out. The road ascends gradually the whole way, and when near Argandeh a _kotal_ is gained, about a mile and a half across and two or three miles long. It is now a bare plain without tree or shrub, but for the most part is under cultivation, the fields of course lying fallow during the winter. To the right or north the hills are rather precipitous, and in a sheltered curve at their base the village of Argandeh lies. It is fully a mile from the road, and all about it are terraced fields said to yield magnificent crops of wheat and barley.