Taking this for a polite hint that the interview
had lasted long enough, I rose to go, but was at once thrust back into
my chair by Azim. "You are not to go," said the Wazir. "The Khan is
much interested by you."
"Dhuleep Singh is in Russia, is he not?" then asked the Khan.
"Yes."
"What does Russia pay him a year?"
"I do not know."
"More than England did?"
"I do not know."
"You English never do know anything," muttered the Khan, impatiently;
adding, "Do you know the Czar of Russia?"
"I have seen him."
"Is he a good man?"
"I believe him to be so."
"Then why do his people try to kill him?"
"Some of them are Socialists."
"Socialists!" repeated the Khan, slowly. "What is that?"
I then explained with some difficulty the meaning of the word.
"Humph!" was the rejoinder. Then, with a whisk of the yellow bandanna:
"I am glad I have none in Kelat!"
A mark of great favour was then shown me, the Khan presenting me with
his photograph, with the request that I would show it to "Parliament"
when I got home. I think he was under the impression that the latter
is a human being. An incident that occurred but two years since is
typical of the intelligence of the ruler of Kelat and his court. It
was at Quetta, on the occasion of the presentation of Mir Khudadad
to the Viceroy of India. Previous to a grand _dejeuner_ given in his
honour, the Khan and his suite were shown into a dressing-room for the
purpose of washing their hands. On entering to announce that luncheon
was ready, the aide-de-camp found that the distinguished guests had
already commenced operations, and were greedily devouring the cakes
of Pears' soap that had been placed there for a somewhat different
purpose. That none of the party felt any after ill effects speaks well
for the purity of the wares of the mammoth advertiser - or the Baluch
digestion!
The Khan shook my hand cordially at parting, and again begged me not
to forget his warnings anent the Ameer of Afghanistan, with whom he is
apparently not on the best of terms. I found, with some relief, that
my Beila men had made friends with the Afghans, and, surrounded by an
admiring crowd, were hobnobbing over a hissing samovar. One of the
Afghans handed me a glass of tea, which, not to offend him, I drank
and found delicious. It had come from China _via_ Siberia, Samarcand,
and Cabul. "Russki!" said the man with a grin, as I handed back the
cup.
The Khan of Kelat very rarely leaves his palace, and is seldom seen
abroad in the streets of Kelat except on Fridays, when he goes to the
mosque on foot, attended by an escort armed to the teeth. He is said
to live in constant dread of assassination, for his cruel, rapacious
character has made him universally detested in and around the capital.
His one thought in life is money and the increase of his income,
which, with the yearly sum allowed him by the British Government, may
be put down at considerably over L30,000 per annum. A thorough miser,
the Khan does not, like most Eastern potentates, pass the hours of
night surrounded by the beauties of the harem, but securely locked in
with his money-bags in a small, comfortless room on the roof of his
palace.
[Illustration: THE KHAN OF KELAT]
There is not the smallest doubt in my mind that Russian influence
is, indirectly, being brought to bear on the Court of Kelat. But Mir
Khudadad may be said to have no policy. As the French say, "Il change
sa nationalite comme je change de chemise," and is to be bought by the
highest bidder.
Although the Khan's subjects are heavily taxed, there is no protection
whatsoever of life or property in or around Kelat. Theft is, according
to the penal code, punished by fine and imprisonment, murder and
adultery by death; but the law is subject to great modifications. In a
word, the Khan is the law, and so long as a man can afford to pay or
bribe him handsomely, he may commit the most heinous offences with
impunity.
Two instances of the way in which justice is carried out happened just
before I arrived at Kelat. In the one, a young Baluch woman was found
by her husband, a soldier, under circumstances which admitted no doubt
of her infidelity. Upon discovery, which took place at night, the
infuriated husband rushed off to the guard-house for his weapon.
During his absence the woman urged her lover, who was well armed, to
meet and slay him in the darkness. Under pretence of so doing the gay
Lothario left his paramour, but, fearful of consequences, made off to
Quetta.
On his return home the husband used no violence, simply handing his
wife over to the guard to be dealt with according to law. Brought
before the Khan the next day, she was lucky enough to find that
monarch in a good temper. Her beauty probably obtained the free pardon
accorded her, and an order that her husband was also to condone her
offence. The latter said not a word, took her quietly home in the
evening, and cut her throat from ear to ear. The Khan, on hearing
of the murder next day, made no remonstrance, nor was the offender
punished. He was an Afghan.
The second case is even more disgraceful. One of the Khan's own suite,
a well-known libertine and drunkard, contracted an alliance with
a young girl of eighteen. He had endeavoured in vain to marry her
younger sister, almost a child, and so beautiful that she was known
for many miles round the city as the "Pearl of Kelat."
Six weeks after marriage this ruffian, in a fit of drunken frenzy
caused by jealousy, almost decapitated his wife with a tulwar, and
afterwards mutilated her body past recognition.
