EX-KING OF AFGHANISTAN

lisappointing and timorous despot. They had made
ao headway with him. But he knew in his own heart
bhat down in India the British were congratulating
themselves on having such a faithful fellow-conspirator.

Amanullah was sad and dispirited. The object of an
army was to make war. His men had disciplined
themselves into something like efficiency to no purpose.
The greatest chance of his life had passed. It seemed
a mockery to maintain an armed force for the sole use
of the parade ground and the State functions. He sulked
at Court, and almost openly expressed his disapproval
of his father's neutrality.

He had not long to wait.

In the autumn of 1919, Habibullah was setting off
for his Winter Palace at Jallalabad. He rode through
Kabul surrounded by the finery and equipage of a real
Eastern ruler. His men-at-arms bore the flags and
pennants of the Royal House, and costly fabric decorated
the saddle-cloths of his finest horses. There were chairs
for the ladies, if they tired of riding, and there were
spare horses for even the most humble of his soldiers.

The officials of the Court rode with him, and behind
the little procession there came numerous pack-horses
carrying the books of State and the records of the
Amir's Court. Little had changed since medieval
times. He looked round his capital and saw that it
was to his liking. It might have been a scene from the
Bible, as the dust rose from under the hoofs of the
cavalcade, passing into the canon cut like a deep knife
wound in the rocks surrounding Kabul.

Habibullah was looking at the capital of his country
for the last time.

Amanullah would not go to Jallalabad that year.
He professed pressure of work with his Army, and
expressed his intention of enduring the long winter up