1 a vizier's daughter - Hazara.net

115
A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR
They crossed the quadrangle, went up a few steps, and Gul Begum had
to stoop to get into the apartment into which she was ushered, so low
was the doorway. The floor was concreted, and felt ver y hot to her feet,
and the air was laden with moisture.
There was a rough, wooden door opposite that by which she had
entered, and she could see beyond a smaller room too, from which a
considerable amount of steam and heat was evidently coming.
Gul Begum had never seen a Turkish bath before. She was puzzled, and
not a little alarmed. The cr y, or whatever she had heard in the night,
recurred to her, and she turned instinctively and looked at the door
through which the slave girl was on the point of making her exit.
“Kush amedi” (Welcome), the lady of the house said graciously.
Gul Begum had hardly noticed her, she was so taken up with her other
surroundings; but, on being thus recalled to a sense of what was due to
her hostess or mistress, whichever she might prove to be, “You are
well?” she returned, with an inclination of her head, remembering
suddenly how much depended on this interview.
“Remain in peace,” continued the lady. “You have not seen a hum hum
before, I day say. Would you like to go and look round, before you
come and speak to me?”
“I would,” the girl said quietly, somewhat reassured. “This seems to
me a strange place. It must be pleasant in cold weather.” So saying, she
advanced towards the inner chamber. There was not much to see when
she got there, only a very hot room, almost dark, and full of steam.
There was a deep, dark hole in the wall. Gul Begum put her arm
through, and came to the tank containing the hot water which the
attendant bath women throw on their mistresses, as they lie flat on the
ground on a deer or tiger skin put down for the purpose, going through
the process of scrubbing, first with a thick sort of mud, then with a
kind of soap, next with a rough glove which seems to take the very skin
off, and finally with a cool white powder, called sufedi (whitening),
very comforting after all the kneading and scouring that has gone on
before, but not becoming, it makes one so ghastly white.
When her eyes got accustomed to the light, she saw two brass taps
below the opening in the wall. Wondering what the y were for, for she
had never seen such a thing, she stooped and turned the cock, and
immediately the water began to run.
“What convenience!” the girl said to herself. “This is indeed a
luxurious people. One turns one little handle and hot water comes, and
another, and one has cold water. It is all very wonderful,” and rejoicing
in the discover y of what had interested her, her cheeks hot from the