Another time the ceiling-cloth of one of my office-rooms came down during the night. It is a common occurrence, because the earth that falls through between the rafters from the mud roofs brings a gradually increasing weight to bear on the ceiling-cloth, and it sags until the cloth, sooner or later, rips at the edges and comes down. When I went to see the damage done the men with me said that it was assuredly the work of a shaitan, for who else could do it with the windows bolted and the door locked? To argue against logic like this was useless. Another story told me by an Afghan about shaitans was that one evening after visiting some friends, he had some distance to walk before getting home, and the road lay through a burial-ground (burial-grounds have no walls round them as in England). It was late when he got among the graves, and the thought of walking alone there made his flesh creep, but he kept on until he was nearly through, and then he saw little flames rise from the ground in front of him and flicker about. This terrified him, and he put on an extra spurt to get clear of the graves, when the figure of a man appeared in front. The sight of another man calmed him until, on coming closer to the figure, he saw that a shawl was wrapped round the head (shawls are commonly worn so at night when the air is chill), and the eyes in the face shone like two stars, while the nearer he got to the figure the taller it grew, until it loomed high above him, and then he turned and ran back. But the house he had left was much further away from where he then was than his own home, so after running for a time he determined to face the graveyard again. But the same thing happened, only now, being in a frenzy to get out of it all, he made a dash to get past the figure, and, while doing so, he lost consciousness, and did not recover it until the early morning, when he found himself lying on the road, but just clear of the graves, and to that he attributed his salvation. Another Afghan told me that he was sleeping one night in the serai at Gundamak, when he awoke without knowing the reason of his waking, and sat up. Then one wall of the room he was in disappeared, and there on the ground beyond he saw a regiment of Gorawallahs (English soldiers) march past, but without making any noise, and their faces were white in the moonlight, and wore an awful look. This man, too, lost consciousness until the morning, or rather, he said he did.