Now Kumran was a far cleverer fellow than his brother Askurry; but there
was in him a love of deceit for deceit's sake, which spoiled all his
cleverness, for it made him uncertain what he would do in the end. This
indeed is always the case with deceitful people. They know that what
they say and do is _not_ straightforward and true, and so they are like
sailors without a compass. They have no fixed pole by which to steer.
And, in addition, Kumran liked to be considered clever; so he was always
outwardly very courteous, very polite, very charming; but what he was
within none could say for long.
Thus Foster-father's heart sank within him, when in the distance, down
the rocky ravine through which the Kabul River dashes, and along which
the caravan road took its high-perched way, he saw the battlemented wall
of the city, cresting the low hills on which the town was built. It was
a fully fortified town through which the river ran, and at its extreme
end, commanding the wider plain below, stood the citadel called the Bala
Hissar or High Fort. To reach this the travellers had to cross the iron
bridge and wend their way through the narrow bazaars.
Such wonderful bazaars as they were, too! Crowded with tiny dark arched
shops, like caverns, full to the brim with Persian silk carpets, furs
from the north, turquoises and all kinds of precious stones from
out-of-the-way places with unpronounceable names.
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