and Bolun passes were open, and to the superficial observer all was
tranquil. The elements of strife indeed existed, but at the time when
I took the ramble which these pages attempt to describe, British
power was paramount, and the rumour was already rife of the speedy
diminution of the force which supported it.

Notwithstanding the modern rage for exploration, but few of our
countrymen have hitherto pierced the stupendous barrier of the
Paropamisan range; but the works of Hanway, Forster, Moorcroft, and
Trebeck, Masson, and Sir Alexander Burnes, convey most valuable
information concerning the wild regions through which they travelled,
and I am bound in simple honesty to confess that my little book does
not aspire to rank with publications of such standard merit. An
author's apology, however humble and sincere, is seldom attended to
and more rarely accepted. Surely I am not wrong in assuming that a
feeling of mournful interest will pervade the bosom of those who have
the patience to follow my perhaps over-minute description of places
whose names may be already familiar to them as connected with the
career of those bold spirits who in life devoted their energies to the
good of their country and the advancement of science, and who in the
hour of disaster, when every hope was dead, met their fate with the
unflinching gallantry of soldiers and the patient resignation of
Christians.

My lamented friend, Lieutenant Sturt, of the Bengal Engineers, was
one of the foremost of those who endeavoured, during the critical
situation of the Cabul force previous to its annihilation, to rally
the drooping spirits of the soldiers; and without wishing in any way
to reflect on others, it may fairly be said that his scientific
attainments and personal exertions contributed not a little to those