AMANULLAH

This latter was one of the richest jokes against
officialdom told in the Clubs for months past.

News was already coming from Kabul. The water-
carrier's son had not wasted his time. The empty
Palace and the Arg were soon occupied. The irregular
troops swooped down on it, chagrined at finding them-
selves robbed of their prey. They ransacked the rooms,
tore the Western furniture and fittings to pieces, and
encamped themselves in the rooms that had been the
last refuge of Amanullah and his women.

First objective of their disappointed revenge were the
Russian pilots. There was no resistance. The Russians
had perhaps imagined that their foreign nationality
would protect them from danger. They were wrong.

Terrible tales were told of the revenge on them for
their efficiency and marksmanship with bombs from
their machines. Bacha Sachao, it was said, had boasted
that he would not touch a hair of their heads. No
Afghan should commit the crime of assaulting an alien
in all Afghanistan. The pilots were told this, standing
before a tribunal held in public. We can imagine their
proud, confident looks. We can imagine them in their
splendid uniforms, their long legs stuck into high,
decorative Afghan boots, standing before the new ruler
of Kabul.

Bacha Sachao must have enjoyed himself. He was
known as an expert creator of ingenious punishments.
He was in his element.

" You will not be molested,'* he said- " We Afghans
cannot hurt a foreigner. Indeed, you shall go back to
your country- None shall detain you. Now go. . . ."

Stupefied, the little band of hired soldiers left the
of war. They met sullen looks and an ominous