Each Man Carried A Berdan
Rifle And Cavalry Sabre.
It struck me as a curious coincidence that
the former rifle is in general use throughout the Russian army.
Leaving my escort with strict injunctions to keep their tempers, and
under no circumstances to allow themselves to be drawn into a quarrel,
I followed the Wazir and his attendants into the Mir. The entrance is
through an underground passage about forty yards long by seven wide,
ill-smelling and in total darkness. Arrived at the end, we again
emerged into daylight, and, ascending a flight of rickety wooden
steps, found ourselves in the durbar-room - a spacious apartment, its
walls decorated with green, gold, and crimson panels, alternating with
large looking-glasses. Costly rugs and carpets from Persia and Bokhara
strewed the grimy floor of the chamber, which is about sixty feet
long, and commands a splendid view of the city and fertile plains
beyond. Awaiting me upon the balcony was the Khan, surrounded by
his suite and another guard of Afghans. A couple of dilapidated
cane-bottomed chairs were then brought and set one on each side of the
crimson velvet divan occupied by his Highness. Having made my bow,
which was acknowledged by a curt nod, I was conducted to the seat on
the right hand of the Khan by Azim Khan, his son, who seated himself
upon his father's left hand The Wazir, suite, soldiers, and attendants
then squatted round us in a semicircle, and the interview commenced.
A long silence followed, broken only by the whish of the fly-brush
as a white-clad Baluchi whisked it lazily to and fro over the Khan's
head. The balcony on which we were received is poised at a dizzy
height over the beehive-looking dwellings and narrow, tortuous streets
of the brown city, which to-day were bathed in sunshine. The Khan's
residence is well chosen. The pestilent stenches of his capital cannot
ascend to this height, only the sweet scent of hay and clover-fields,
and the distant murmur of a large population, while a glorious
panorama of emerald-green plain stretches away to a rocky, picturesque
range of hills on the horizon.
His Highness Mir Khudadad, Khan of Kelat, is about sixty years old. He
would be tall were it not for a decided stoop, which, together with a
toothless lower jaw, gives him the appearance of being considerably
more than his age. His complexion is very dark, even for a Baluch, and
he wears a rusty black beard and moustaches, presumably dyed, from
the streaks of red and white that run through them, and long, coarse
pepper-and-salt locks streaming far below his shoulders. His personal
appearance gave me anything but a favourable impression. The Khan has
a scowling expression, keen, piercing black eyes, and a sharp hooked
nose that reminded one forcibly of Cruikshank's picture of Fagin the
Jew in "Oliver Twist."
The Khan was dressed in a long, loose, white garment, with red silk
embroidery of beautiful workmanship.
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