y have I fallen asleep--so at least it seems to me
--when I am awakened by my four guards singing out, one after
another, "Kujawpuk! Ki-i-puk!!" This appears to be their answer to the
challenge of the officer going his rounds, and they shout it out in tones
clear and distinct, in succession. This programme is repeated several
times during the night, and, notwithstanding the sleep-inducing fatigues
of the last few days, my slumbers are light enough to hear the reliefs of
the guard and their strange cry of "Kujawpuk, ki-i-puk" every time it is
repeated.

As the sun peeps over the wall of the garden my red-jackets reappear at
their post; roses are stuck in their caps' and their buttonholes, and
fastened to their guns. A big bouquet of the same fragrant "guls" is
presented to me, and a dozen gholams are busy gathering all that are
abloom in the garden. These are probably gathered every morning in the
rose season, and used for making rose-water by the officers' wives.
During the forenoon the blue-gowned old khan and his major-domo, the
mail-clad colonel, again present themselves at my bungalow. They are
gracious and friendly to a painful degree, and sugar would scarcely melt
in the mouth of the paternal old khan as he delivers the "Wall's salaams
to the Sahib." Tea and sweetmeats are handed around, and Kiftan Sahib and
Bottle Green join our company.

Nothing but the formal salaams has yet been said; but intuition is a
faithful forerunner, and ere another word is spoken, I know well enough
that the khan and the colonel have been sent to break the disagreeable
news that I am to be taken to Herat, and that Kiftan Sahib and Bottle
Green have dropped in out of curiosity to see how I take it.

The kindly old khan finds his task of awakening the spirit of
disappointment anything but congenial, and he seems very loath to deliver
the message. When he finally unburdens himself, it is with averted eyes
and roundabout language. He commences by a rambling disquisition on the
dangers of the road to Kandahar, apologizing profusely for the Ameer's
inability to guarantee the good behavior of the wandering tribes, and the
consequent necessity of forbidding travellers to enter the country.

He dwells piously and at considerable length upon our obligations to
submit to the will of Allah, not forgetting a liberal use of the Oriental
fatalist's favorite expression: "kismet." For the sake of argument,
rather than with any hope of influencing th