CHAPTER IX

IN A KABUL HOTEL—THE TRAGEDY OF SIGNOR PIERRI—
" THE GREAT HOUR "—SECRETS OF THE COURT—A RIDE
IN THE ROYAL MOTOR CAR

| UT before we had actually entered Kabul, we were
(to undergo one more experience with new and
tangled Afghan red tape. In preparation, the car
stopped once more, after spirited conversation between
the driver and the ballast, for which the latter seemed
duly grateful.

We had run from the top of the hill through a canon
whose sides reared themselves straight and bare for a
hundred feet. The road curled perilously and swung
round hairpin bends to the bridge over Kabul River,
here a rushing torrent as it was forced through the
bottle-neck. The driver pulled into a clearing, and
there began a performance which would have caused a
flutter in the heart of a Customs agent in any country.

The driver once more changed puggaree and dhoti for
comic hat and trousers. His discarded garments he
stuffed carefully into the tool-box, together with sundry
mysterious parcels which I guessed were to run the
gauntlet of the Customs inspection.

But far more ambitious and elaborate were the
preparations made in the back of the car for the benefit
of the officials. The road seemed crowded indeed with
struggling figures, wrapping themselves up in new
clothes, binding puggarees, replacing old shoes for new.

The large bearded man who so often and so reverently
entrusted his soul to the keeping of Allah was now

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