Afghanistan, July 1969 – Page 17

Canine police of isides[?] Afghan hound covered in sores loads[?]. Gold of sloping hills The Tchaikhana "we don't smoke tobacco we only smoke hashish. Plain Hazara boy leaning against the wall. The road is lam[?] heads through woods where there are deer, wild goats and all manner of rivers[?]. The chief of police has promised us horses. Pausing at tent of  Sannens[?] calvary school Three tennis[?] around corn-country men Three young Cadirs[?]. Three bottles of champaign Waves of the sea. I am forced into the act of writing something by the intense scribble scribble scribble of Peter and Nigel whose scribbling tore through my brain as I tried to sleep. Peter, I feel sure, was moralizing the murderers[?] into a moral niche. He had moralized on slavery this morning. Some well[?] and tall story of European women being sold at a