On our arrival, Dr. Lord, the political agent, sent us a polite note
of invitation to pitch our tents near his fort, and (we) become his
guests during our stay; we remained with him till the 29th, and were
much gratified by his kind attention.

The quiet demeanour of the natives here was very remarkable, and as
we can hardly attribute the circumstance to an inherent pacific
disposition, we must the more appreciate the wonderful address
displayed by the political agent in his dealings with the various
parties, who in these remote mountains, as well as in more civilised
countries, are ever ready to quarrel with each other, and only suspend
their animosity when a common powerful enemy is to be resisted or a
helpless stranger to be plundered. As it was, we reaped considerable
benefit from the favourable impression made on the peasants by the
authorities, for we were enabled to go out shooting, alone, and even
wander unarmed amongst the hills without experiencing the slightest
insult or incivility.

Indeed, at the period of which I am writing, there seemed to have
been a pause in the wild passions of the Affgh[=a]ns throughout the
country, which was perhaps one of the fatal causes which lulled us
into that dangerous feeling of security, from whence we were awoke by
the most dreadful disaster that has ever befallen the British arms.
Poor Dr. Lord was killed at Purwan Durrah during the short campaign in
the Kohistan under Sir Robert Sale; and the other British officer, Dr.
Grant, who was the medical attaché to the mission, disappeared during
the retreat from Charrik[=a]r in 1841, and has never been heard of
since.