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The Kumharsen Serai is the great foursquare sink of humanity where the strings of camels and horses from the North load and unload. All the nationalities of Central Asia may be found there, and most of the folk of India proper. Balkh and Bokhara there meet Bengal and Bombay, and try to draw eye-teeth.

You can buy ponies, turquoises, Persian pussy-cats, saddle-bags, fat-tailed sheep, and musk in the Kumharsen Serai, and get many strange things for nothing. In the afternoon I went down to see whether my friends intended to keep their word or were lying there drunk. A priest attired in fragments of ribbons and rags stalked up to me, gravely twisting a child's paper whirligig.

Khoda Dad Khan pocketed that insult. He had learned something that he much wanted to know, and returned to his hills to be sarcastically complimented by the Mullah, whose tongue raging round the camp-fires was deadlier flame than ever dung-cake fed. Be pleased to consider here for a moment the unknown district of Kot- Kumharsen.

The Muhammadan sat on the floor and glared. 'One service more, Sahib, since thou hast come so opportunely, said Lalun. 'Wilt thou' it is very nice to be thou-ed by Lalun 'take this old man across the City the troops are everywhere, and they might hurt him for he is old to the Kumharsen Gate? There I think he may find a carriage to take him to his house.

You can buy ponies, turquoises, Persian pussy-cats, saddle-bags, fat-tailed sheep, and musk in the Kumharsen Serai, and get many strange things for nothing. In the afternoon I went down to see whether my friends intended to keep their word or were lying there drunk. A priest attired in fragments of ribbons and rags stalked up to me, gravely twisting a child's paper whirligig.

I had only time to say: The Protection of the Sirkar! when a fresh crowd flying before the Native Infantry carried us a hundred yards nearer to the Kumharsen Gate, and Petitt was swept away like a shadow. 'I do not know I cannot see this is all new to me! moaned my companion. 'How many troops are there in the City? 'Perhaps five hundred, I said.

The Kumharsen Serai is the great foursquare sink of humanity where the strings of camels and horses from the North load and unload. All the nationalities of Central Asia may be found there, and most of the folk of India proper. Balkh and Bokhara there meet Bengal and Bombay, and try to draw eye-teeth.

The Kumharsen Serai is the great four-square sink of humanity where the strings of camels and horses from the North load and unload. All the nationalities of Central Asia may be found there, and most of the folk of India proper. Balkh and Bokhara there meet Bengal and Bombay, and try to draw eye-teeth.

You can buy ponies, turquoises, Persian pussy-cats, saddle-bags, fat-tailed sheep and musk in the Kumharsen Serai, and get many strange things for nothing. In the afternoon I went down there to see whether my friends intended to keep their word or were lying about drunk. A priest attired in fragments of ribbons and rags stalked up to me, gravely twisting a child’s paper whirligig.

I had only time to say: "The Protection of the Sirkar!" when a fresh crowd flying before the Native Infantry carried us a hundred yards nearer to the Kumharsen Gate, and Petitt was swept away like a shadow. "I do not know I cannot see this is all new to me!" moaned my companion. "How many troops are there in the City?" "Perhaps five hundred," I said.