I took advantage of our improved relations with the Afghans, consequent on the ratification of the treaty, to enlarge our geographical knowledge of the passes which lead from Kuram towards Kabul, and the independent territories in the neighbourhood.  The presence of the troops, no doubt, had something to say to the cheerful acquiescence of the tribesmen in these explorations, which they appeared to look upon as the result of a wish to make ourselves acquainted with the country assigned to us by the treaty, and having, to use their own expression, lifted for us the purdah (curtain) of their country, they became most friendly, and took a curious pleasure in pointing out to us the points of defence at which they would have opposed us, had we been advancing as enemies.

Towards the end of June I heard from Lord Lytton that he wished me to be one of the military members of a Commission of Inquiry into army expenditure and organization which was about to be convened at Simla, if I thought I could be spared from my post at Kuram.  The people of the valley had by this time settled down so contentedly, and the tribesmen showed themselves so peacefully disposed, that I thought I could safely leave my post for a time, before returning to take up my abode in the neighbourhood for some years, as I hoped to do, when my appointment as Frontier Commissioner should have received the sanction of the authorities in England.

Meanwhile, however, some temporary arrangement was necessary for the administration of Kuram, and I wrote to the Foreign Secretary (Alfred Lyall), pointing out my views upon the subject.

Seeing how much could be done with these wild people by personal influence, and how ready they were to submit to my decisions when disputes arose amongst them—­decisions at times literally given from the saddle—­I was very adverse to their being handed over to some official who, from his training, would not be able to understand dealing out the rough-and-ready justice which alone was suited to these lawless beings, and who could not imagine any question being properly settled without its having undergone the tedious process of passing through the law courts.  Such a rule would, I knew, disgust a people accustomed to decide their quarrels at the point of the sword—­a people to whom law and order had been hitherto unknown, and must be distasteful, until they had had time to realize their beneficial effects.  Profitable employment and judicious management would in time, no doubt, turn them into peaceful subjects.  Friendly intercourse had already done much towards this end, and tribes who for generations had been at feud with each other now met, when visiting our camp, on common ground, without (much I think to their own astonishment) wanting to cut each other’s throats.  What was further required, I conceived, was the opening up of the country by means of roads, which would facilitate intercommunication and give remunerative employment to thousands who had hitherto lived by plunder and bloodshed.