FORBIDDEN ROAD

Evening Star, Issue 22460, 3 October 1936, Page 13

FORBIDDEN ROAD

ROCKY WAY TO SAMARKAND Throughout, tho ages there has been a route irom Oxford across the legendary Oxus into Afghanistan, and India (writes Jlosita iforbes in tho ‘ Daily Telegraph '). lint the old “ fcsilk road " by fjalkh. where Alexander camped, and Bamyan, Valley of the Giant Buddhas, destroyed by Geughzi Khan, circumvented the mam massif of the Hindu Kush. Only the Afghans have had sufficient enterprise to Jliug their new strategic road directly across tho Shibbar i’ass, and to force it for some at miles through the cleft of the Surkhab, with at tunes scarcely more than a lorry’s breadth between cliffs rising to several thousand feet. The total length of the road between Kabul and Mazar i Shcrif, the holy city of Afghanistan, is 382 miles. It is, of course, a fair-weather track, impassable during heavy snow, and in places it degenerates into a couple of ruts running across the steppes of Ghori, or climbing between a succession of frozen mud breakers over tho Mazar Hass, but, given the spectacular difficulties of the terrain, it is a magnificent achievement and also the “ forbidden way ” to the Soviet Republics of Central Asia. After leaving Kabul—in a three-quartcr-toii lorry laden with food, bedding, fuel (for tile Afghan mountains are treeless), spades and planks for use in deep snow or mud—wo traversed the fertile “ skirt of tho hills ” valley, from which came the brigand Batcba Saqai and his revolutionaries to overthrow Ainaindla. Eastwards we could see the famous “ Singing Sands,” which shift and drone in the wind, and westwards tho Gorbund Valiev, rich in coal and lead.

At 10,000 feet the road ran between hanks of snow, but we passed the first camel caravans bound for Turkestan and, crossing the frozen Shibbarfi, turned off for tho north road to look at Bamyan. Hero the blood-red cliffs, porous with caves which were once monastic cells, rise sheer against tho snows. The valley widens into fields flanked with poplars and willows, and a wind-swept village huddles at the foot of the giant Buddha, 150 feet high.

From the excellent Government resthouse there is a comprehensive view of the rock lace, cleft by the niches of colossal statues, and moneycornbor with the remains of monastries which, flourishing in the earliest centuries a.d., gave shelter to merchants and pilgrims from the Far East. Another hour brought up to the first steppes, great rolling plains, with tho grass short and lush, and herds of wild horses stampeding. The round feltcovered dhut (yurts) of Central Asia took the place of the Pathnns’ black tents. Like rings of mushrooms they spread wherever there was water, or, neatly packed on bullocks, were transported with the first flocks of caraculi sheep. Gone were the splendidly fortified villages of the south with their watch towers and their miles of mud rampart. The Mazar Pass, at tho crest of tho second and steeper range of the Kush, took toll of a native lorry in front of us. It crashed over the edge of the cliff with fatal results. In darkness wo followed. The radiator burst and tho hand-brake broke, but by midnight, after a 16-hour drive from Doab, averaging 10 miles an hour, wo crossed the snow-bound summit and made for Haibak, where tho old mud town is deserted at tho foot of a ghostly fortress and a new town is springing up with wide avenues, large p>ublia buildings, and rows of bazaars, treelined ami solidly constructed. Beyond Haibak, a scrag end of country, neither hill nor plain, leads to the incredible pass of Tashkurgan, where the road becomes a thread between cliffs that hid the sky. This is the last natural defence of Afghanistan against invasion from the north. Beyond lie tho sandy plains of Mazir i Sherif, and the great dune desert south of the Oxus. Towards this historic river, now called the Amu Darya, lead the Russian roads and railways, but they stop short at the northern bank. There is neither ferry nor ford. South of the mile-wide stream boundary between a religious feudalism and a socialism no less autocratic, Afghan divisions at Mazar keep watch in the direction of Tharmes and Khilif, where Alexander is supposed to have crossed the Oxus, while others further east, at Herat and Maimana, devote tho same attention to Russian Kushk. But, in effect, it is tho Kindu Kush which guards the road to Kabul.

lii three places the passes could be held by a company against an army corps, and in 100 miles there are scarce half a dozen valleys where even a batallion could camp. Mazar i Sherif is supposed to have 3,000 houses. The old mud-built town gathers round the Hazrat Ah, a beautiful sea-blue mosque, exquisitely tiled, with every dome and minaret intact, where, according to erroneous legend, Ali, son-in-law of the prophet, is bui-ied. The new town stretches splendidly between white Government buildings to gardens of apricot, cherry, and pomegranate. We arrived during the Moslem New Year, a time of pilgrimage, when the vast court of the mosque was thronged with pilgrims from all over Asia. We saw Arabs and Chinese Mongols, Persians, Pathans, and Turcomen, Bedouins from the far south, and exiles from the Soviet Central Asian republics in search of a market as nuHi as a mosque. The main square had become a great fair, surrounded by lanes of tea-booths. Acrobats gave performances to throngs of shepherds, the caraculi skins they hoped to sell still warm on their arms. Fighting partr; ;ros drew other crowds, whose leaders bet ns much as T ,000 Afghanis (approximately £25) on a livehour conflict, divided into ten-minuto rounds. Largo pools were made up out no prize was given to the owner of the victorious bird.

His piano, upon which ho had so often improvised with masterly execution for the entertainment of his friends, was all but silent now, for the effort of playing even the briefest and least exacting of pieces was too much for him. As for any really active pleasures, they had to be entirely abandoned. A devoted horticulturist, he no longer dared to stoop over his beloved plants, and the glasshouses, where he had raised some of the rarest plants to be found in Great Britain, know his care no longer. On the rare occasions when he went for a walk in his homo town of Grimsby his halting gait and haggard looks were marked by all his friends, who fully shared his doctor’s opinion of the outcome of his illness. Mr Ovorbeck was, in fact, a prematurely aged man, with an old man’s sallow skiii and faded eyes, an old man’s infirmities and maladies, the victim of chronic kidney trouble and rheumatism, his hair scanty, his sigiit blurred, his pulse feeble and erratic. But physically broken down as ho was, ho still retained the mental outlook, at least, of the trained man of science, and a brain that for years had spent its energies in tackling all kinds of difficult and exacting problems now turned to the most vital problem of all: how the fires of life, which so obviously were dying down, could be stoked up again and stirred into a cheerful bla.!-.p. The Secret of Youth He began experimenting, and before long he was convinced that he had discovered the real secret of youth, in a new process of cell rejuvenation. In the true spirit of the scientist, he tried his process on himself. Some mistakes had to bo corrected. Then one day ho was faced with the startling realisation that his pulse was definitely stronger and more regular, his step firmer, his sight clearer. Gradually his hair began to grow thicker, too; the twinges of rheumatic pain subsided more and more, the kidney trouble vanished, and his whole outlook on life changed. In short, he was a new man, and friends who met him in the street were flabbergasted by the change which had taken place in his appearance, for, instead of the stooping, woe-begone figure they had glanced at furtively with a shako of the head, they saw before, them a man witli a firm, elastic stride and that fiery glint in the eye which proclaims an eager, active brain. A New Method of Rejuvenation Inevitably inquiries were on every lip, and it soon became an open secret in Grimsby that Mr Ovcrbcck had discovered a new method of rejuvenation. The news soon spread farther a Held, and before long letters were reaching Mr Overbook almost every day from swell far-asundcr places as Canada and South Africa, Spain and Siam, New Zealand and Japan, begging Mr Overbeck to disclose the secret of his ■ marvellous recovery of health and vigour.

Presently Mr Overbeck was to be seen upon tho public platform, and at tho Savoy Hotel, London, before an enthusiastic audience, which included several medical men, he announced his discovery. A wellknown journalist who was present at the meeting afterwards declared that he had experimented with Mr Overbeck’s method, and his sight, which before had been greatly troubling him, showed unmistakable signs of improvement. From Decrepitude to Vigour In the chair on this momentous occasion was Mr \V. J. Womcrsley, M.P. for Grimsby, who vouched for the accuracy of photographs of Mr Ovevbeck taken before he began his new rejuvenating treatment. These showed Mr Overbeck as a decrepit old man, whereas tho Mr Overbeck who stood upon the platform was seen to be a well-set-up and vigorous specimen of humanity, to all appearances many years younger. After this public announcement of his discovery, it was no longer possible for Mr Overbeck to ignore the demands of the numerous sufferers who urged him to make available for others the health process which had so unexpectedly and so completely re-established his own health and renewed his youth. Mr Overbook accordingly made arrangements so that this growing demand might be met, and his “ Kejuvenator,” as he aptly termed tho means whereby he had recovered youth and health, is now doing for others what it has done for Mr Overbeck himself. It is banishing tho infirmities of age. It is renewing waning vital energy and restoring youthful enthusiasm in the middle-a ged and elderly. It is making old arteries young again. It is toning up vital organs that have become tired and sluggish. It is winning back for thousands who have lost it the will to win tho battle of life, the zest for action, tho desire to load instead of to follow. The Boon of Robust Health Upon men and women of naturally weak constitution at any ago it is conferring the priceless boon of robust health and vigour, while athletes, actors, singers, organisers, and others who arc obliged to work at fever pitch all the time, find in it the most certain means of banishing fatigue and keeping always at the top of Iheir form. These arc sensational claims, but they are borne out in the fullest detail by the deeply grateful reports which Mr Ovcrbeck receives by every post from those who have followed his example. A few such reports arc printed on (his page for tho benefit of readers of (bis paper. Numerous others, all bearing the full names and addresses of the writers, are reproduced in the valuable Free Book which is offered to-day to all who apply for it on the special form provided.