all. He might dispose of her, at eighteen, for a
thousand rupees and a fat-tailed sheep or two.

Now and then veiled figures drift by us like
wraiths, unregarded and unseeing. In neither
virtue nor vice do the women of Peshawar play
a leading role. The serai where the dancing-boys
live exceeds in importance even that long street
where the daughters of Jezebel look out on
scenes scarcely changed, I fancy, in the two
thousand years and more since Elisha walked
the streets of Acre. Now, as then, their hair is
tied with rough gems, their eyes are darkened
with antimony, their fingers and toes are stained
with henna. Now, as then, they look down from
their window balconies, and men, seeing their
beauty, are lost. But their wage is not in sordid
cash; they will accept only a jewel or cloth of
gold or silk. Only those sunk irredeemably,
even itx Peshawar, with its evil reputation, will
accept gifts of money.

Our party, in the journey across Waziristan
and up to our arrival in Peshawar, has consisted
of four persons. There is Chase, of course. We
have travelled together for many years now, and
before we met he had already visited half the
countries of the world as the photographic

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