From Chandaul we passed through one of the usual gates, and, crossing the Cabul River by a narrow masonry bridge of three small arches, rode along a path in the western suburbs of Deh-i-Afghan skirting the bed of the stream. Several gardens filled with fruit trees, but otherwise much neglected, were passed, and some houses of sufficient size to warrant the belief that their owners were men of importance. The handsome villas Cabul is said to be proud of were certainly not to be seen. Re-crossing the river by another bridge not far from Taimur Shah’s tomb, we entered the Afghan quarter of the city, the route lying through the Char Chowk, so called from the four small squares with drinking fountains which are found at about equal distances along the bazaar. The place was crowded with people, from gaudily-dressed merchants to poor, ill-clad Hazara coolies (the Hazara _log_ are the hewers of wood and drawers of water all over Afghanistan), and there was much diversity of costume and character. No sign of resentment was shown towards us; but a sullen silence was maintained, and the villainous faces seen from time to time caused many of us to wish that a little decimation, or some equally healthy operation, had been performed among these ruffians. The side-streets were more crowded than in the Chandaul quarter, and a sharp look-out was kept for any fanatical attempt to run amuck among us. The lances of the General’s escort and the rifles of the orderlies on foot were ready for an emergency; a bloodthirsty little Ghoorka among the orderlies having hitched his _kookrie_ round so as to have it handy. But no _ghazi_ or _budmash_ appeared anxious for martyrdom, and we wended our way onwards peacefully. Not an arm of any kind was carried by any person in the crowd, and the armourers’ shops were quite empty; the grindstones, on which many a _chura_ and _tulwar_ has been sharpened, were lying idle on the ground. This turbulent populace has been cowed by our prompt march upon their city, and as the Afghans heard behind us the shrill shriek of the pipers and saw the Highlanders in their kilts stepping along in easy confidence, they must have known their time had gone by. Of course, all trade was suspended while the march was going on, and the stall-keepers looked far from pleased at our intrusion. There was none of the impulsive salaaming we had been received with in Chandaul, and many stood up almost defiantly as if to vindicate their claim to be considered the salt of the earth. What lay behind in the thickly-packed houses on either side of the bazaar none of us could say,—General Hills, the new Governor, may soon know; but we could quite believe from the scowling faces seen in the side-streets that fanatical hatred against us was still alive, if for the time it was held in check. When we proceed with our work of disarmament, perhaps it may flash out; and then who knows that a repetition of Pollock’s policy may not follow,