ON THE BLOCK

Evening Post, Volume CXV, Issue 16, 20 January 1933, Page 3

ON THE BLOCK

SOLD INTO SLAVERY

AN ASIAN ADVENTURE

AFGHAN'S ESCAPE

A hundred yelling Turkoman raiders, bent on the capture of human merchandise for Central Asian slave markets, attacked in the darkness. The inhabitants of the village on the Eusso-Afghan frontier, on the road to "Golden Samarkand," defended themselves bravely but briefly. The rifles of attackers and attacked spat viciously. Men fell in the streets and roll-ed-"like sacks of corn down the slopes of the hills. : The shrieks of women mingled with the savage laughter of the man-lifters."

The .battle was soon over, and the slavers, were on their way with their human loot. They had secured, although they did not know it, one item of/booty they had not counted on— Sirdar Jkbal Ali Shah, an upper-class Afghan. The Sirdar is the author of a number of books on Asia, and is now a member of the Afghan Legation in London. He tells the "almost incredible" story of his capture, sale as a slave, and. escape from bondage, in "Good- Housekeeping." r The Sirdar had wandered into this "wild and "insalubrious" territory in his "usual charmingly casual manner," for the same reason that people swim the-English Channel and fly the Atlantic. He wanted adventure. This time he found it. He was wounded in 1 the fight at the village where he had "been stopping, and in whose defence he had joined. Rendered unconscious, hedid not come to his senses until the next morning. MILES AWAY. Then he found himself at the oasis of KizilKum, miles away from where he had been the previous night. Near . a stack of wood' "three women and an. aged man were being questioned about the. escape of their aged relatives. Behind the rocky platform eight young men were being untied so that they could have a bowl-of soup." The Sirdar's had. been upset during the period of his - unconsciousness. The sun was already hot, he says, as he continues his tale:— My garments were stuck to my body, and here and there were Teddened in colour. I scarcely knew whether I stood on my "head or my feet. The desert-brewed ale which they, wanted to pour into my mouth I spat at them —and earned a kick for it. So exhausted was I that even the position of my wounds was unknown to me. . Then four hefty men got. hold of me-and resorted to the original method of forcible feeding.. For three ■ days I was subjected to the process of "taming," that is, being fed forcibly, and then . tied up again. On the fourth day, when some strength had been • gathered and my wounds had been dressed, I swore in the choicest terms of .the desert; then the mulberry switch was liberally applied upon my back, so that I might know that slaves cannot indulge in bad language—toward their captors, at any rate. As escape was impossible, I Tesigned myself to fate and marched on foot every inch of the long Toad to "Golden Samarkand," to be sold in the marketplace there. There was one advantage'in the situation: they fed me well and gave me double water rations; and, if you have been through the back desert of Kizil Kum, you will know what a blessing water is. They treated me in this" manner, for they thought I would fetch a good price in the slave market. ■''■"' AT SAMARKAND. " Fourteen days' journey brought us to the outskirts of the town of Samarkand. Although I did not' dread being sold to an unknown master, from. whose clutches I could get out, to escape thereafter to Afghanistan or Persia presented difficulties to my mind, as, in either case, it would be necesary to pass the slave traders' country. It was a hot*afternoon when, in the suburbs of Samarkand, our captors swelled the throng with three male and two female slaves. In the. city itself the slaves were not sold publicly, so that in order to carry on this trade it" was necessary to get up a fair, which was ostensibly an ordinary village fair for the public, but was, in reality, the largest slave market in. Turkestan. One by one the slaves were put up for auction. The women .fetched the record, price «of £30 each, while a robust youth, a fellow captive of mine, was sold for only half as much. ■••■..' The fun of the fair was in full swing. Engrossed in the colour and movement of -the spectacle, the Sirdar, while his companions were being .sold, almost forgot that, he, too, was a human, chattel, bound for the auction block. He was roused from his reverie by a rude trig at Ms sleeve, and a voice that commanded: "Mount, the steps. It is thy turn to be sold." ON THE BLOCK. "Meekly I ascended the three steps of the tumble-down public water cistern. Hundreds were passing and repassing before me, but not a soul took pity or considered it worth his while to make a bid. >To European minds such a sale of unfortunate human beings is incredible, but these are actual facts. 1 For hours together no one would even make a bid for me; an old Turkoman lady would not even exchange her nag for met At long last, someone threw his handkerchief over the hand of my captor,; under which their hands met, and thus the deal was secretly, fixed for £4 and a.horse, and I became the slave of an old merchant, who promptly asked me to follow him to draw water from the adjoining well for his womenfolk. When' the fierceness of the heat had abated a little with dusk, and the old merchant and his ladies had eaten well and rested, a baby was given to me to carry, but when the infant did not like the.look of me and tore savagely at my cheeks, its-mo r ther took it back, and the old merchant gave me his prize fightingcock to carry while I accompanied him through the fair. . That night the Sirdar slept on hay in a tiny cell. But it was neither his cramped quarters nor other discomforts that kept him awake, he says. As. I wanted to escape, I was afraid to sleep, and began to devise schemes. By the time it was daybreak I had worked out the details. I should go, I .thought, by the direct desert route toward the Caspian Sea; not the day after to-morrow, nor to-morrow, but that day I should escape. "■ THE ESCAPE. . Early in the forenoon my master ordered me to set about sweeping the courtyard, where in the • afternoon a cock-fighting contest was to take place. I could hear another slave going round the bazaar, shouting: * "To the cock-fight! To the cock-fight go all the brave and the young, my sweet ones!" Soon the shopkeepers put up their shutters, and the'place was crowded. A circle of about eighteen feet in diameter was drawn in the centre of the courtyard, and a peg was driven in the middle of it. Old and young brought their birds to the contest. A cock was thrown in the arena, and a cry.arose from the spec-

tators. The rival parties shouted, urging on their respective birds.

Occasionally the sympathisers of various parties engaged in a free fight. Each round of tho contest never lasted longer than six minutes. Betting was heavy on these fights, although it was done in a curious manner. A man would sell an old whip or a saddle or a walk-ing-stick to another man, a bookie, for, say, twenty or forty times the value of the article, and whisper the name of his fancied cock. The surplus of the actual cost of the article was "on the bird"—so that it often happened that the winner received a camel in return for the old'whip which he had staked. The game was proceeding fast and furiously when I bolted and never looked back. An old nag in the back premises helped me, and by sundown I was many miles from Samarkand. As .the entire:winnings of my master happened to be with ■ me, I bought a fairly- decent camel, when the desert was reached, to carry me on my -journey westward"~to tho shores of tho Caspian Sea.._ _^_