attitude
of the Mullah may be regarded in the light of a reform. Unfortunately,
he regards it as a heinous sin for any Muhammadan to take service with,
or to receive pay from, the British Government. Often on the frontier
a grave crisis has threatened to result from the refusal of one of
his underlings, or Sheikhs, as they are called, to grant the rites
of marriage or burial to some unfortunate Pathan who has enlisted in
one of the regiments of the Indian Army. The missionaries, of course,
are regarded by him and his Sheikhs as the embodiment of the heresies
of an infidel Government.
For many years the Mullah Karbogha apparently ignored me, but finally
I had information that his attitude was going to become more distinctly
hostile. I thought it better, therefore, to act on the Biblical adage
to "agree with thine adversary quickly, whilst thou art in the way with
him," and to seek to modify his attitude by a personal interview. It
was one hot August day that found me and an Indian medical assistant
riding to this frontier Mecca. It was a part of the district notorious
for deeds of violence, and after riding some ten miles, when the hot
summer sun made us feel the need of some refreshment, we came to one of
those villages where is posted a guard of some twenty Militia Sepoys,
who represent the army of the Government in their midst. It was only
a roughly-built house, loopholed and strengthened in some parts to
simulate a fort, and the soldiers themselves were only removed by
a few months' military training, a simple uniform, and the salt of
the Sarkar, which they had eaten, from the families of brigands and
highwaymen from which they had been enlisted. There had been a double
murder that morning in a village a few miles off, and most of the
soldiers were scouring the country round in quest of the marauders;
but, as usually happens, the murderers had got a good start, and
were already probably well across the frontier. When the soldiers who
remained in charge found that it was the Bannu Daktar Sahib who had
come so suddenly upon them, they were all attention. Tea was brewed,
and milk and unleavened cakes were fetched from the village, while
men suffering from ague and women bringing their children suffering
from various ailments to which Afghan children are liable soon came
crowding in, and a little store of medicines that we had carried on
our saddles was in great request.
After refreshing ourselves with their simpl
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