hat several mention the Kafirs as being great
wine-bibbers. The beverage brought to me on several occasions nothing
more nor less than the pure grape-juice, neither fermented nor
distilled, but in its simple form. During the season, the fruit, which
grows in great abundance, is gathered, the juice pressed out, and put
into jars either of wood or earthenware, and placed underground for
future use. I obtained some, which I put into a bottle for the purpose
of bringing away, but after it had been exposed to the air a short time
it turned into a sort of vinegar. To the Kafir chief who took me in I
offered some whisky, and poured about half a wine-glass into a small
Peshawar cup, but before I had time to add water to it, the chief had
swallowed the pure spirit. I shall never forget the expression depicted
on his countenance. After a while all he could give utterance to was,
"We have nothing so strong."

Their arms consist merely of bows and arrows and daggers; a few
matchlocks of Kabul manufacture have found their way into the country,
but no attempts have been made to imitate them. At a distance of about
50 yards, with their bows and arrows they seldom fail to hit an object
smaller than a man. The string of the bow is made of gut. Their wealth
is reckoned by the number of heads of cattle (goats, sheep, and cows)
they possess. There are eighteen chiefs in all; selection is made for
deeds of bravery, some allowance also being made for hereditary
descent. Wheat is their staple food, and with the juice of the grape
they make a kind of bread, which is eaten toasted, and is not then
unlike a Christmas plum-pudding.

To resume the narrative: once again, unaccompanied by my two friends, I
left Chitral on the morning of May 23rd, and struck off from Urguch,
spending the first night at Balankaru, in the Rumbur Valley. The people
are the Kalash section of the Kafirs, inferior in appearance, manner,
and disposition to their neighbours situated westwards; they pay a small
tribute in kind to Chitral, and are allowed to retain their own manners
and customs. To Daras Karu, in the Bamburath Vale, famed for its pears,
I next proceeded; here also are Kalash Kafirs, and some Bashgali
settlers. The valley is very narrow, and the cultivation restricted
principally to terraced fields on the hill-slopes. Kakar was the next
march; beyond it no trace of habitation. After a short stay we proceeded
up the valley till dusk, and spent the first part of