The bazaar is covered in at some height above the stalls, which can be numbered by the hundred; and is very narrow and cramped. It would be impossible to describe in detail the arrangement of the shops; but the most attractive were certainly those of the silk merchants, whose goods, with their brilliant colours and fine texture, were openly displayed. Richly-braided caps and coats; boots elaborately worked in gold and silver; cutlery and cloths, both English and native; sweets, fruit on every hand in huge heaps, grain, spices, saddles, harness for mules and camels, piles of blankets and felt _numdahs_ of wonderful patterns, and scores of other articles that I cannot set down, succeeded each other as stall after stall was passed; and a further medley was formed by the heaps of parched gram and _chupaties_ (flat unleavened cakes), plates of horrible stews and greasy-looking messes which were exposed for sale. Next a butcher’s shop full of meat curiously cut up and hung about in admired disorder, would be a _kabob_ stall, the keeper of which would be cooking his dainty morsels in the open air, and tempting passengers to try his savoury little sticks. In all the small squares which I have before mentioned as giving the name to the bazaar, groups of men were lounging or squatting about the tank in the middle of the open space, and here, doubtless, much of the bartering with strangers and merchants from a distance is carried on. The buildings in the squares are more pretentious than elsewhere, rising to a height of three or four stories, and their fronts and chief doorways are handsomely ornamented.
Our ride through was soon over, and we arrived at the street where we had turned off to Chandaul in about an hour and a half from the time of entering the city. Only one mosque was passed on the way, just as we were leaving the Char Chowk, and the voice of a _moollah_, shrieking “Allah-il-Ullah,” and perhaps cursing us under his breath, could be heard within the courtyard, rising over all the din made by our horses as they stumbled over the rough ground. Whatever fanaticism there may be in Cabul—and that it is highly fanatical historical events have only too sadly shown—it is clearly under a cloud now; and as long as we remain in the Bala Hissar, with a force ready for all contingencies, it can never make much headway. Our march through having been happily ended, Sir F. Roberts drew rein outside the Lahore Gate, and watched the infantry brigades file out with bands playing and colours flying. Thus ended our second and final triumph in the humiliation of Cabul, and now there lies before us the work of detection and punishment of those who shared in the massacre of our Envoy. That there are many in the city all our information leads us to believe, and we are not likely to let them escape.