confidence, were timid and almost cringing. But this shyness wore off completely as we became better acquainted, and although of weak character and debauched habits, he never in any situation looked anything but a gentleman. On this occasion he wore a smart green velvet suit, the tunic and trousers of which were decorated by broad gold braid, the production of his Kokandi court tailor. Nizam-ul-Mulk was at this time thirty-three or thirty-four years of age; but the Nemesis of his country and his race was already hovering unsuspected above his head, and he was never to see another birthday.

Having cleared the defile, we were met by a party of some hundred mounted men, and the whole cavalcade streamed amid clouds of dust along the open plain, across the fields, and over the low stone walls. Soon we came to a place where shooting from horseback at full gallop at a gourd filled with ashes, swinging from the top of a pole, was performed for my entertainment. This is one of the favourite national sports. Resuming our way, we crossed the river by the Chitral Bridge, a single-span timber structure, built on the cantilever principle, forty-five yards long by four feet wide, and guarded by a gatehouse on the near side, and by two stone towers on the opposite bank. We dismounted, the Mehtar, according to the polite fashion of the country in escorting a guest, holding me by the hand. As we drew near to the fort, which is about half a mile below the bridge, the entire population turned out to meet us; two brass six-pounders, the gift of the Indian Government, boomed a formal salute, and

a most picturesque and novel spectacle-the crest of the hills was lined for over a quarter of a mile by several hundred men, who with matchlocks fired a noisy feu de joie into the air. The men of the Mehtar's bodyguard, a hundred strong, in white drawers and old scarlet tunics, purchased at Peshawur, were drawn up outside the fort. Leaving the latter below us to the left, we mounted somewhat higher up the hill, passed through Chitral serai—an enclosure surrounded by low mud houses, where the Peshawri and Badakshani merchants deposit their goods, and which was the only semblance of a bazaar in the entire region of the Hindu Kush-crossed a nullah, down which trickled a scanty stream, and reached a house and grounds that had been prepared for my reception. In the garden were pitched a tent and shamiana that had been presented by Sir W. Lockhart to Aman-ul-Mulk when he left Chitral.

These quarters were those that had been placed at the disposal of the British Agent when at Chitral. Subsequently during the siege they were occupied by our arch-enemy, the meteoric uncle, Sher Afzul; but again, when the siege was over, they became the headquarters of the British officers. Immediately behind the garden enclosure was the burial-ground of the reigning family of Chitral. By far the largest grave, in deference I imagine to his great reputation, was that of Aman-ul-Mulk, which was a lofty rectangular mound, faced on all sides with stone; and with the two curving isolated stones that are usually planted on the top of Chitrali tombs fixed in the ground at the head and foot. Afzul-ul-Mulk's was

a smaller grave, with no marks of distinction. Adjoining the graveyard was the Jumma Musjid or town. mosque of Chitral, an unpretentious building.

During my stay in Chitral I was shown such sights as the place contained or admitted of. A A game of polo was organised; but it struck me that, though better mounted, the players did not touch quite the same level of excellence that I had seen at Hunza. Thirteen took part, and the game lasted an hour. The Mehtar was one of the best players, if not the

best. Whenever he got a goal and struck off, galloping down three-quarters of the ground, all the spectators shouted loudly; and I also remember a short, black-bearded man, whom, as the head of the armed forces of Chitral, we dubbed the commanderin-chief, clad in blue trousers and a purple velvet tunic, who rode like a demon and shouted like a boy. The ground at Chitral was peculiarly shaped. It was on the slope of a hill, and on the upper side had a big bay or extension, with an old chenar tree in the middle.

The ground was of turf, but was somewhat cut up

Goal

and dusty. Elsewhere in this volume (p. 82) I have described the game of polo as it is, or then was, played in the mountain fastnesses of the Hindu Kush.

I made a careful inspection of the fort, where the Mehtar was residing, and which six months later was to be the scene of one of the most heroic exploits that have ever adorned the page of British history. The fort was a very picturesque structure, rising almost from the river's edge, with its tall angle-towers projecting from the lower walls, the whole from a little distance being embosomed in a wealth of chenars, walnuts, and orchard trees. But for purposes of defence it could scarcely have been placed in a worse position, the immediate surroundings affording every opportunity for close-range firing and for sheltered approach, and the interior being commanded from nearly all sides by Martini-fire from the hills. Like all Chitral forts that I saw, the building consisted of a square enclosure quite eighty yards on each face, with walls about twenty-five feet in height, built of unhewn stones held together by transverse tiers and by mud. At each corner was a square tower twenty feet higher, the immense amount of woodwork in these towers, particularly at their outer angles, explaining the constant attempts made by the enemy during the siege to set fire to them. The tower nearest to the serai and to Sher Afzul's house was that from which the improvised Union Jack was flown that infused such heart into the defenders. On the north or river face was a waterway running down to the river for a distance of forty yards, protected half-way down by a fifth or water-tower. The

efforts of the besiegers to cut off or to render untenable this waterway, and of the garrison to protect it from a never-ending assault, were among the most thrilling episodes of the subsequent siege. On the east and west faces of the fort were magnificent groves of chenars, extending almost up to the walls. Of these the enemy did not fail to make good use. Beneath the clump on the western side was a big open-air terrace, with platforms for the large durbars, overlooking the bend of the river, and in full view of the tutelary presence of Tirich Mir. On its southern and eastern face the fort was surrounded by a garden within a lower wall.

The main entrance was on the western face, nearest to the Chitral Bridge. I passed through a heavy wooden gateway, with a small trap-gate opening in it for use after dark, into a narrow passage where the guard were stationed. This led into the main interior court, entirely surrounded by buildings. On the left hand was a new mosque, an unpretentious open structure with wooden pillars, and with the kibleh on the back or west wall, which was being built by the Mehtar; also a new durbar hall with some simple but effective wood-carving. On the opposite side was the tower at the door of which Afzul-ul-Mulk as he came out was shot through the head by Sher Afzul's men. Under a shed were a few guns, including the two mountain-guns that had banged off on the occasion of my arrival. On the right or southern side latticed windows looked down from an upper storey on to the court and betrayed the women's quarters. On the river side, in the