1 a vizier's daughter - Hazara.net

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126 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR very palatable, the flour being well adulterated b y the bakers; the rice was poor, the milk smoked; the girl felt sick at the ver y sight of it. There was not much to do, and the mistress was kindly enough, but grossly ignorant. “A curious girl for Agha to have fancied,” she said to herself, “my goodness! I don’t think all the water in Kabul would wash the dirt off her. You must go to the hum hum, girl,” she said. “I w ill give you the pice (pence). You can’t appear before Agha like that,” but Gul Begum only glared and looked stupid. She had managed Ferad Shah’s wife by fear and jealously, but she felt that these would be no weapons to use against the patient dutiful creature who was now her mistress. “Agha,” the latter said, “that slave you have sent is no good for any purpose whatsoever. She seems to me to be little more than halfwitted.” “Oh, nonsense, try the effect of the stick on her,” the merchant said indifferently. “These wild Hazara women are not much above the level of the brutes when first they come in. You’ll break her in in time,” but even as he spoke, Gul Begum tripped intentionally on a great earthen vessel standing just outside the window. It fell against the wall, smashing into fragments, but the girl made no apology or comment whatsoever. Merely picking up the bottom piece which still contained a little water that had been left there to settle, she applied it to her mouth. “Ah, dirty wretch!” the woman exclaimed, “polluting the last drop of water that is left. Get you gone and don’t let me see sight of you again. She is only fit to carry your goods from the store to the shop, Agha, she ma y be of some use as a coolie (porter), but a house servant she is no good at all.” The merchant kept her a mouth, but at the end of that time saw a far more likely girl, who would do well for his household as well as for the store. So Gul Begum received a sound thrashing and was sent back to the prison. Her mother and Shereen were still there; Hazara slaves were so plentiful in Kabul at that time that there were not masters to be found for them all. Shereen, only too glad to have nothing to do, although it entailed poor and scant y prison fare, used the little piece of mud Gul Begum had left with her with great effect, and no one who came to the prison seemed to fancy her. Gul Begum was in high spirits when she returned. She felt she would yet find a way of escape to her beloved Hazara hills, and to her father. She had only to endure and to keep up her present role. Shortly after her return, however, she was again chosen, in spite of her squalid appearance. An old General fancied her strong, active limbs

127 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR and lithe, graceful form that no mud could hide. He had no wife and had had none for some years, so there was a good deal of chafing among his friends when he announced his intentions regarding his new Hazara slave girl, but of this Gul Begum was quite unconscious. She only resolved to find out the old General’s weakness, and disgust him as she had succeeded in disgusting her late mistress. Her master had spent many years in India, and had taken to the Indian habit of beetlenut chewing, and kept spitting all over the house, much to Gul Begum’s disgust, so she took to beetle-nut chewing too, and out-Heroded Herod by the wa y in which she behaved. Moreover, she refused to conform to ordinar y Kabul habits of cleanliness, found no means of obtaining the conveniences she was accustomed to in her own country, and before long the general was glad to restore her to her priso n home. “The day will come when you will be turned out of that too,” her master said, as he saw her hustled off with none too gentle hands b y one of his own servants. “We don’t want animals in Kabul. We send them to consort with their fellows in the hills. You’ll make an excellent dinner for some hungry wolf next winter.” Gul Begum only glared at him as though she did not understand what he was talking about, but she understood well. She was on the right track for libert y. S he was read y and willing to share the winter with the wolves. She had far greater fear of man than of the beasts. CHAPTER XXIII GUL BEGUM’S MASTER THE episode at the General’s house had ended satisfactorily to Gul Begum, but another trial – the final one – was soon to follow. The Ameer’s Chief Secretary walked round the prison to choose four slaves, “Girls that will make good servants,” was what he asked for. “I want two to give awa y, and tow for myself.” Gul Begum and her cousin were amo ng those chosen, and with the usual loud cries and wailings, they were walked off to their

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