Sir Frederick Roberts then presented the _khilluts_, which consisted of handsome _chogas_ and a certain number of rupees, to the Chiefs who had remained with us, or faithfully kept their promises. Those who had merely come in answer to the amnesty were, of course, not rewarded. Besides the Sirdars mentioned in the speech, who were rewarded for their loyalty to the British Government, there were eleven Kohistani Chiefs, twelve Logaris (including Faiz Mahomed Khan, of Ali Musjid celebrity), and thirty-four Jagri and Besud Hazara Khans and _maliks_. With the distribution of _khilluts_ the Durbar closed, and the Chiefs were free to depart.

In the meantime, our indecision has re-acted upon a section of the citizens of Cabul, who dread another occupation by tribesmen. The Hindu merchants are beginning to move out with their families and goods, and are taking the road to Peshawur. I have had many chances of learning their feeling from one of their number, an intelligent banker, well versed in local politics. His explanation of the migration is that the Hindus trusted in the British, and looked to them for protection—which was promised. But when the rising took place, the British had enough to do to hold Sherpur, and consequently they were left at the mercy of the rabble about Mahomed Jan. They will not risk a second occupation, being convinced that it will take place, as we have not really received any considerable reinforcements. “Besides,” they add, “no man can say what you will do next, whether you will go back to India, or occupy Cabul for ever. We have waited for you to say what is to happen, and nothing has come of it except loss to ourselves and insult to our women. We will still wait, but this time in Peshawur, where we shall be safe. If the Sirkar takes over Cabul, then we will return.” And so they are taking their departure, and Cabul is losing many of its best citizens; industrious, peace-loving men, whom we cannot easily replace. It is a comment upon our “waiting-upon-Providence” policy which is not at all pleasant. Besides, if these Hindus carry to India the idea that we cannot protect them in Cabul, and spread this report throughout Hindustan, the effect upon the minds of our own subjects east of the Indus may be very serious. Prestige is such a delicate plant in Eastern soil, that it should be carefully guarded. Our military preparations in and about Cabul—the building of strong stone towers on the Bala Hissar Heights and the Asmai Hill, the cutting of military roads to the Cabul gorge, the re-occupation of the Bala Hissar, the clearing of the country about Sherpur of forts and walls—do not convey much to these Hindus. “You want more _men_ if you are to hold Cabul, and keep out your enemy. What are 10,000 to 50,000? There must be 20,000 here to guard Sherpur and the city.” They are men of peace, and their criticism of military matters is weak; but they shrewdly enough ask if, after sickness and wounds, our fighting men are more numerous now than two months ago. It may be a small matter, after all, that these terror-stricken Hindus turn their faces eastwards; but it should be remembered that, all through the troublous times of the Durani dynasty, their forefathers, and they themselves, have remained in Cabul, and they are only leaving the city now, because they do not believe in the power of the British to hold it against another army of 50,000 Afghans.

The Afghan War of 1879-80 — Part 168