civilization; where there is no civilization, there is no pie." Hence Peshawar, etc.; and one more count may be added to the great total of what England has done for India.
In what seemed only the middle of that arctic night we heard our servant beating on the cook-house door with such an alarum as might herald the coming of the Russians; and after the misery of a candle-light breakfast we drove away in the frosty dawn, the sun rising behind us in a haze of pink and purple, lilac and burning crimson, as we made straight toward the mountain wall. The carriage-road to Jamrud fort runs for all the ten miles close beside the caravan track, on which were lines of slow-moving camels, enveloped in clouds of glorified golden dust—a fine, loose sort of powder, as light and dry and white as flour or snow, covering the broad caravan track five and six inches deep. Every one abroad was beating his arms and stamping his feet to keep warm, and we soon shrouded our heads in rugs as shelter from the icy wind and choking dust, and to hide from our sight the path of the projected railway which travelers now use to Jamrud.
At Jamrud fort, towering picturesquely at the edge of the plain, we gave up the spacious carriage and waited for guard-mount and the signal-shot to declare the Khyber open for the day. This last British outpost was apparently the frontier. We must then have been close to Afghanistan. But no. Lord Curzon had written (London Times, January 2, 1895), "Without exaggeration it may be said, that where Afghan territory commences, there
