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Title: The Story of the Malakand Field Force

Author: Sir Winston S. Churchill

Release Date: December, 2005 [EBook #9404]
Posting Date: July 27, 2009

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MALAKAND FIELD FORCE ***


Text File produced by Ronald J. Goodden in memory of Royal G. Goodden




THE STORY OF THE MALAKAND FIELD FORCE

AN EPISODE OF FRONTIER WAR


By Sir Winston S. Churchill




 "They (Frontier Wars) are but the surf that marks the edge
    and the advance of the wave of civilisation."

                         LORD SALISBURY, Guildhall, 1892







CONTENTS

     Preface
     Chapter I:     The Theatre of War
     Chapter II:    The Malakand Camps
     Chapter III:   The Outbreak
     Chapter IV:    The Attack on the Malakand
     Chapter V:     The Relief of Chakdara
     Chapter VI:    The Defence of Chakdara
     Chapter VII:   The Gate of Swat
     Chapter VIII:  The Advance Against the Mohmands
     Chapter IX:    Reconnaissance
     Chapter X:     The March to Nawagai
     Chapter XI:    The Action of the Mamund Valley, 16th September
     Chapter XII:   At Inayat Kila
     Chapter XIII:  Nawagai
     Chapter XIV:   Back to the Mamund Valley
     Chapter XV:    The Work of the Cavalry
     Chapter XVI:   Submission
     Chapter XVII:  Military Observations
     Chapter XVIII: The Riddle of the Frontier
     Appendix



                   THIS BOOK
                IS INSCRIBED TO
     MAJOR-GENERAL SIR BINDON BLOOD, K.C.B.
   UNDER WHOSE COMMAND THE OPERATIONS THEREIN
   RECORDED WERE CARRIED OUT; BY WHOSE GENERALSHIP
   THEY WERE BROUGHT TO A SUCCESSFUL CONCLUSION;
   AND TO WHOSE KINDNESS THE AUTHOR IS INDEBTED
   FOR THE MOST VALUABLE AND FASCINATING EXPERIENCE
                  OF HIS LIFE.






PREFACE


   "According to the fair play of the world,
    Let me have an audience."

                   "King John," Act v., Sc. 2.



On general grounds I deprecate prefaces. I have always thought that if
an author cannot make friends with the reader, and explain his objects,
in two or three hundred pages, he is not likely to do so in fifty lines.
And yet the temptation of speaking a few words behind the scenes, as it
were, is so strong that few writers are able to resist it. I shall not
try.

While I was attached to the Malakand Field Force I wrote a series of
letters for the London Daily Telegraph. The favourable manner in which
these letters were received, encouraged me to attempt a more substantial
work. This volume is the result.

The original letters have been broken up, and I have freely availed
myself of all passages, phrases, and facts, that seemed appropriate. The
views they contained have not been altered, though several opinions and
expressions, which seemed mild in the invigorating atmosphere of a camp,
have been modified, to suit the more temperate climate of peace.

I have to thank many gallant officers for the assistance they have given
me in the collection of material. They have all asked me not to mention
their names, but to accede to this request would be to rob the story of
the Malakand Field Force of all its bravest deeds and finest characters.

The book does not pretend to deal with the complications of the frontier
question, nor to present a complete summary of its phases and features.
In the opening chapter I have tried to describe the general character
of the numerous and powerful tribes of the Indian Frontier. In the last
chapter I have attempted to apply the intelligence of a plain man to the
vast mass of expert evidence, which on this subject is so great that it
baffles memory and exhausts patience. The rest is narrative, and in it I
have only desired to show the reader what it looked like.

As I have not been able to describe in the text all the instances of
conduct and courage which occurred, I have included in an appendix the
official despatches.

The impartial critic will at least admit that I have not insulted the
British public by writing a party pamphlet on a great Imperial question.
I have recorded the facts as they occurred, and the impressions as
they arose, without attempting to make a case against any person or any
policy. Indeed, I fear that assailing none, I may have offended all.
Neutrality may degenerate into an ignominious isolation. An honest and
unprejudiced attempt to discern the truth is my sole defence, as the
good opinion of the reader has been throughout my chief aspiration, and
can be in the end my only support.


                                  Winston S. Churchill

          Cavalry Barracks,
    Bangalore, 30th December, 1897






CHAPTER I: THE THEATRE OF WAR


    The Ghilzaie chief wrote answer: "Our paths are narrow and
      steep.
    The sun burns fierce in the valleys, and the snow-fed streams run
      deep;
    .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

    So a stranger needs safe escort, and the oath of a valiant friend."

                                   "The Amir's Message," SIR A. LYALL.



All along the north and north-west frontiers of India lie the Himalayas,
the greatest disturbance of the earth's surface that the convulsions of
chaotic periods have produced. Nearly four hundred miles in breadth and
more than sixteen hundred in length, this mountainous region divides
the great plains of the south from those of Central Asia, and parts as
a channel separates opposing shores, the Eastern Empire of Great Britain
from that of Russia. The western end of this tumult of ground is formed
by the peaks of the Hindu Kush, to the south of which is the scene of
the story these pages contain. The Himalayas are not a line, but a great
country of mountains. By one who stands on some lofty pass or commanding
point in Dir, Swat or Bajaur, range after range is seen as the long
surges of an Atlantic swell, and in the distance some glittering
snow peak suggests a white-crested roller, higher than the rest. The
drenching rains which fall each year have washed the soil from the sides
of the hills until they have become strangely grooved by numberless
water-courses, and the black primeval rock is everywhere exposed. The
silt and sediment have filled the valleys which lie between, and made
their surface sandy, level and broad. Again the rain has cut wide,
deep and constantly-changing channels through this soft deposit; great
gutters, which are sometimes seventy feet deep and two or three hundred
yards across. These are the nullahs. Usually the smaller ones are dry,
and the larger occupied only by streams; but in the season of the rains,
abundant water pours down all, and in a few hours the brook has become
an impassable torrent, and the river swelled into a rolling flood which
caves the banks round which it swirls, and cuts the channel deeper year
by year.

From the level plain of the valleys the hills rise abruptly. Their steep
and rugged slopes are thickly strewn with great rocks, and covered with
coarse, rank grass. Scattered pines grow on the higher ridges. In the
water-courses the chenar, the beautiful eastern variety of the plane
tree of the London squares and Paris boulevards, is occasionally found,
and when found, is, for its pleasant shade, regarded with grateful
respect. Reaching far up the sides of the hills are tiers of narrow
terraces, chiefly the work of long-forgotten peoples, which catch the
soil that the rain brings down, and support crops of barley and maize.
The rice fields along both banks of the stream display a broad, winding
strip of vivid green, which gives the eye its only relief from the
sombre colours of the mountains.

In the spring, indeed, the valleys are brightened by many flowers--wild
tulips, peonies, crocuses and several kinds of polyanthus; and among the
fruits the water melon, some small grapes and mulberries are excellent,
although in their production, nature is unaided by culture. But during
the campaign, which these pages describe, the hot sun of the summer had
burnt up all the flowers, and only a few splendid butterflies, whose
wings of blue and green change colour in the light, like shot silk,
contrasted with the sternness of the landscape.

The valleys are nevertheless by no means barren. The soil is fertile,
the rains plentiful, and a considerable proportion of ground is occupied
by cultivation, and amply supplies the wants of the inhabitants.

The streams are full of fish, both trout and mahseer. By the banks teal,
widgeon and wild duck, and in some places, snipe, are plentiful. Chikor,
a variety of partridge, and several sorts of pheasants, are to be
obtained on the hills.

Among the wild animals of the region the hunter may pursue the black
or brown mountain bear, an occasional leopard, markhor, and several
varieties of wild goat, sheep and antelope. The smaller quadrupeds
include hares and red foxes, not unlike the British breed, only with
much brighter coats, and several kinds of rats, some of which are very
curious and rare. Destitute of beauty but not without use, the scaly
ant-eater is frequently seen; but the most common of all the beasts
is an odious species of large lizard, nearly three feet long, which
resembles a flabby-skinned crocodile and feeds on carrion. Domestic
fowls, goats, sheep and oxen, with the inevitable vulture, and an
occasional eagle, complete the fauna.

Over all is a bright blue sky and powerful sun. Such is the scenery of
the theatre of war.

The inhabitants of these wild but wealthy valleys are of many tribes,
but of similar character and condition. The abundant crops which a warm
sun and copious rains raise from a fertile soil, support a numerous
population in a state of warlike leisure. Except at the times of sowing
and of harvest, a continual state of feud and strife prevails throughout
the land. Tribe wars with tribe. The people of one valley fight with
those of the next. To the quarrels of communities are added the combats
of individuals. Khan assails khan, each supported by his retainers.
Every tribesman has a blood feud with his neighbor. Every man's hand is
against the other, and all against the stranger.

Nor are these struggles conducted with the weapons which usually belong
to the races of such development. To the ferocity of the Zulu are added
the craft of the Redskin and the marksmanship of the Boer. The world
is presented with that grim spectacle, "the strength of civilisation
without its mercy." At a thousand yards the traveller falls wounded
by the well-aimed bullet of a breech-loading rifle. His assailant,
approaching, hacks him to death with the ferocity of a South-Sea
Islander. The weapons of the nineteenth century are in the hands of the
savages of the Stone Age.

Every influence, every motive, that provokes the spirit of murder among
men, impels these mountaineers to deeds of treachery and violence. The
strong aboriginal propensity to kill, inherit in all human beings, has
in these valleys been preserved in unexampled strength and vigour.
That religion, which above all others was founded and propagated by the
sword--the tenets and principles of which are instinct with incentives
to slaughter and which in three continents has produced fighting breeds
of men--stimulates a wild and merciless fanaticism. The love of plunder,
always a characteristic of hill tribes, is fostered by the spectacle of
opulence and luxury which, to their eyes, the cities and plains of the
south display. A code of honour not less punctilious than that of old
Spain, is supported by vendettas as implacable as those of Corsica.

In such a state of society, all property is held directly by main force.
Every man is a soldier. Either he is the retainer of some khan--the
man-at-arms of some feudal baron as it were--or he is a unit in the
armed force of his village--the burgher of mediaeval history. In such
surroundings we may without difficulty trace the rise and fall of
an ambitious Pathan. At first he toils with zeal and thrift as an
agriculturist on that plot of ground which his family have held since
they expelled some former owner. He accumulates in secret a sum of
money. With this he buys a rifle from some daring thief, who has risked
his life to snatch it from a frontier guard-house. He becomes a man to
be feared. Then he builds a tower to his house and overawes those around
him in the village. Gradually they submit to his authority. He might now
rule the village; but he aspires still higher. He persuades or compels
his neighbors to join him in an attack on the castle of a local khan.
The attack succeeds. The khan flies or is killed; the castle captured.
The retainers make terms with the conqueror. The land tenure is feudal.
In return for their acres they follow their new chief to war. Were he to
treat them worse than the other khans treated their servants, they would
sell their strong arms elsewhere. He treats them well. Others resort to
him. He buys more rifles. He conquers two or three neighboring khans. He
has now become a power.

Many, perhaps all, states have been founded in a similar way, and it is
by such steps that civilisation painfully stumbles through her earlier
stages. But in these valleys the warlike nature of the people and their
hatred of control, arrest the further progress of development. We
have watched a man, able, thrifty, brave, fighting his way to power,
absorbing, amalgamating, laying the foundations of a more complex
and interdependent state of society. He has so far succeeded. But
his success is now his ruin. A combination is formed against him. The
surrounding chiefs and their adherents are assisted by the village
populations. The ambitious Pathan, oppressed by numbers, is destroyed.
The victors quarrel over the spoil, and the story closes, as it began,
in bloodshed and strife.

The conditions of existence, that have been thus indicated, have
naturally led to the dwelling-places of these tribes being fortified. If
they are in the valley, they are protected by towers and walls loopholed
for musketry. If in the hollows of the hills, they are strong by their
natural position. In either case they are guarded by a hardy and martial
people, well armed, brave, and trained by constant war.

This state of continual tumult has produced a habit of mind which recks
little of injuries, holds life cheap and embarks on war with careless
levity, and the tribesmen of the Afghan border afford the spectacle of a
people, who fight without passion, and kill one another without loss of
temper. Such a disposition, combined with an absolute lack of reverence
for all forms of law and authority, and a complete assurance of
equality, is the cause of their frequent quarrels with the British
power. A trifle rouses their animosity. They make a sudden attack on
some frontier post. They are repulsed. From their point of view the
incident is closed. There has been a fair fight in which they have had
the worst fortune. What puzzles them is that "the Sirkar" should regard
so small an affair in a serious light. Thus the Mohmands cross the
frontier and the action of Shabkadr is fought. They are surprised and
aggrieved that the Government are not content with the victory, but must
needs invade their territories, and impose punishment. Or again, the
Mamunds, because a village has been burnt, assail the camp of the Second
Brigade by night. It is a drawn game. They are astounded that the troops
do not take it in good part.

They, when they fight among themselves, bear little malice, and the
combatants not infrequently make friends over the corpses of their
comrades or suspend operations for a festival or a horse race. At the
end of the contest cordial relations are at once re-established. And yet
so full of contradictions is their character, that all this is without
prejudice to what has been written of their family vendettas and
private blood feuds. Their system of ethics, which regards treachery and
violence as virtues rather than vices, has produced a code of honour so
strange and inconsistent, that it is incomprehensible to a logical mind.
I have been told that if a white man could grasp it fully, and were to
understand their mental impulses--if he knew, when it was their honour
to stand by him, and when it was their honour to betray him; when they
were bound to protect and when to kill him--he might, by judging his
times and opportunities, pass safely from one end of the mountains to
the other. But a civilised European is as little able to accomplish
this, as to appreciate the feelings of those strange creatures, which,
when a drop of water is examined under a microscope, are revealed
amiably gobbling each other up, and being themselves complacently
devoured.

I remark with pleasure, as an agreeable trait in the character of the
Pathans, the immunity, dictated by a rude spirit of chivalry, which in
their ceaseless brawling, their women enjoy. Many forts are built at
some distance from any pool or spring. When these are besieged, the
women are allowed by the assailants to carry water to the foot of the
walls by night. In the morning the defenders come out and fetch it--of
course under fire--and are enabled to continue their resistance. But
passing from the military to the social aspect of their lives, the
picture assumes an even darker shade, and is unrelieved by any redeeming
virtue. We see them in their squalid, loopholed hovels, amid dirt and
ignorance, as degraded a race as any on the fringe of humanity: fierce
as the tiger, but less cleanly; as dangerous, not so graceful. Those
simple family virtues, which idealists usually ascribe to primitive
peoples, are conspicuously absent. Their wives and their womenkind
generally, have no position but that of animals. They are freely bought
and sold, and are not infrequently bartered for rifles. Truth is unknown
among them. A single typical incident displays the standpoint from
which they regard an oath. In any dispute about a field boundary, it is
customary for both claimants to walk round the boundary he claims, with
a Koran in his hand, swearing that all the time he is walking on his own
land. To meet the difficulty of a false oath, while he is walking over
his neighbor's land, he puts a little dust from his own field into his
shoes. As both sides are acquainted with the trick, the dismal farce of
swearing is usually soon abandoned, in favor of an appeal to force.

All are held in the grip of miserable superstition. The power of the
ziarat, or sacred tomb, is wonderful. Sick children are carried on the
backs of buffaloes, sometimes sixty or seventy miles, to be deposited
in front of such a shrine, after which they are carried back--if they
survive the journey--in the same way. It is painful even to think of
what the wretched child suffers in being thus jolted over the cattle
tracks. But the tribesmen consider the treatment much more efficacious
than any infidel prescription. To go to a ziarat and put a stick in
the ground is sufficient to ensure the fulfillment of a wish. To sit
swinging a stone or coloured glass ball, suspended by a string from a
tree, and tied there by some fakir, is a sure method of securing a fine
male heir. To make a cow give good milk, a little should be plastered
on some favorite stone near the tomb of a holy man. These are but a few
instances; but they may suffice to reveal a state of mental development
at which civilisation hardly knows whether to laugh or weep.

Their superstition exposes them to the rapacity and tyranny of
a numerous priesthood--"Mullahs," "Sahibzadas," "Akhundzadas,"
"Fakirs,"--and a host of wandering Talib-ul-ilms, who correspond with
the theological students in Turkey, and live free at the expense of the
people. More than this, they enjoy a sort of "droit du seigneur," and no
man's wife or daughter is safe from them. Of some of their manners and
morals it is impossible to write. As Macaulay has said of Wycherley's
plays, "they are protected against the critics as a skunk is protected
against the hunters." They are "safe, because they are too filthy to
handle, and too noisome even to approach."

Yet the life even of these barbarous people is not without moments
when the lover of the picturesque might sympathise with their hopes
and fears. In the cool of the evening, when the sun has sunk behind the
mountains of Afghanistan, and the valleys are filled with a delicious
twilight, the elders of the village lead the way to the chenar trees by
the water's side, and there, while the men are cleaning their rifles,
or smoking their hookas, and the women are making rude ornaments from
beads, and cloves, and nuts, the Mullah drones the evening prayer. Few
white men have seen, and returned to tell the tale. But we may imagine
the conversation passing from the prices of arms and cattle, the
prospects of the harvest, or the village gossip, to the great Power,
that lies to the southward, and comes nearer year by year. Perhaps some
former Sepoy, of Beluchis or Pathans, will recount his adventures in the
bazaars of Peshawar, or tell of the white officers he has followed and
fought for in the past. He will speak of their careless bravery and
their strange sports; of the far-reaching power of the Government, that
never forgets to send his pension regularly as the months pass by; and
he may even predict to the listening circle the day when their valleys
will be involved in the comprehensive grasp of that great machine, and
judges, collectors and commissioners shall ride to sessions at Ambeyla,
or value the land tax on the soil of Nawagai. Then the Mullah will raise
his voice and remind them of other days when the sons of the prophet
drove the infidel from the plains of India, and ruled at Delhi, as
wide an Empire as the Kafir holds to-day: when the true religion strode
proudly through the earth and scorned to lie hidden and neglected among
the hills: when mighty princes ruled in Bagdad, and all men knew that
there was one God, and Mahomet was His prophet. And the young men
hearing these things will grip their Martinis, and pray to Allah, that
one day He will bring some Sahib--best prize of all--across their line
of sight at seven hundred yards so that, at least, they may strike a
blow for insulted and threatened Islam.

The general aspect of the country and character of its inhabitants
have thus been briefly described. At this stage it is not necessary or
desirable to descend to detail. As the account proceeds the reader may
derive a more lively impression of the sombre mountains, and of the
peoples who dwell beneath their shadow.

The tale that I have to tell is one of frontier war. Neither the
importance of the issues, nor the numbers of the combatants, are on an
European scale. The fate of empires does not hang on the result. Yet the
narrative may not be without interest, or material for reflection. In
the quarrels of civilised nations, great armies, many thousands strong,
collide. Brigades and battalions are hurried forward, and come perhaps
within some fire zone, swept by concentrated batteries, or massed
musketry. Hundreds or thousands fall killed and wounded. The survivors
struggle on blindly, dazed and dumfoundered, to the nearest cover. Fresh
troops are continuously poured on from behind. At length one side or
the other gives way. In all this tumult, this wholesale slaughter, the
individual and his feelings are utterly lost. Only the army has a tale
to tell. With events on such a scale, the hopes and fears, the strength
and weakness, of man are alike indistinguishable. Amid the din and dust
little but destruction can be discerned. But on the frontier, in the
clear light of morning, when the mountain side is dotted with smoke
puffs, and every ridge sparkles with bright sword blades, the spectator
may observe and accurately appreciate all grades of human courage--the
wild fanaticism of the Ghazi, the composed fatalism of the Sikh, the
stubbornness of the British soldier, and the jaunty daring of his
officers. He may remark occasions of devotion and self-sacrifice, of
cool cynicism and stern resolve. He may participate in moments of wild
enthusiasm, or of savage anger and dismay. The skill of the general, the
quality of the troops, the eternal principles of the art of war, will
be as clearly displayed as on historic fields. Only the scale of the
statistics is reduced.

A single glass of champagne imparts a feeling of exhilaration. The
nerves are braced, the imagination is agreeably stirred, the wits
become more nimble. A bottle produces a contrary effect. Excess causes
a comatose insensibility. So it is with war, and the quality of both is
best discovered by sipping.

I propose to chronicle the military operations of the Malakand Field
Force, to trace their political results, and to give, if possible, some
picture of the scenery and people of the Indian Highlands. These pages
may serve to record the actions of brave and skilful men. They may throw
a sidelight on the great drama of frontier war. They may describe an
episode in that ceaseless struggle for Empire which seems to be the
perpetual inheritance of our race. They may amuse an idle hour. But the
ambition I shall associate with them is, that in some measure, however
small, they may stimulate that growing interest which the Imperial
Democracy of England is beginning to take, in their great estates that
lie beyond the seas.





CHAPTER II: THE MALAKAND CAMPS


    Ibam forte via sacra.--HORACE.



The town and cantonment of Nowshera was the base from which all the
operations of the Malakand Field Force were conducted. It is situated
on the India side of the Cabul River and is six hours by rail from Rawal
Pindi. In times of peace its garrison consists of one native cavalry
regiment, one British, and one native infantry battalion. During the
war these troops were employed at the front. The barracks became great
hospitals. The whole place was crowded with transport and military
stores; and only a slender force remained under the orders of Colonel
Schalch, the Base Commandant.

The road from Nowshera to the Malakand Pass and camps is forty-seven
miles long, and divided into four stages. Usually there is an excellent
tonga service, and the distance is covered in about six hours; but
while the Field Force was mobilised so much traffic and so many officers
passed up and down the line, that the tonga ponies were soon reduced to
a terrible condition of sores and emaciation, and could hardly drag the
journey out in nine, ten, or even twelve hours. After leaving Nowshera,
and crossing the Cabul River, a stage of fifteen miles brings the
traveller to Mardan. This place--pronounced "Merdane"--is the permanent
station of the Corps of Guides. It is shady and agreeable, though
terribly hot in the summer months. It boasts an excellent polo ground
and a comfortable rest-house. The passer-by should pause to see the
Guides' cemetery, perhaps the only regimental cemetery in the world. To
this last resting-place under the palm trees, close to the fields where
they have played, and the barracks in which they lived, have been borne
the bodies of successive generations of these wardens of the marches,
killed in action across the frontier line. It is a green and pleasant
spot. Nor is there any place in the world where a soldier might lie in
braver company.

After Mardan the road becomes more dusty, and the surrounding country
barren and arid. [This description applies to the autumn season. In the
winter and spring the country for a time is green and the air cold.]
The mountains are approached, and as the tonga advances their shapes and
colours are more distinctly seen. A few knolls and ridges rising
from the level plain, mark the outposts of that great array of hills.
Crossing a shallow stream--a tributary of the Cabul River, Jalala, the
second stage is reached. In peace time a small mud fort is the
only indication, but this is expanded by the proximity of war to a
considerable camp, with an entrenchment around it. Stopping only to
change ponies, for it is a forsaken spot, the journey is resumed. The
avenue of trees on either side has ceased. The road is seen simply as
a white streak stretching towards the mountains. It is traversed in a
sweltering heat and choking dust. All around the country is red, sterile
and burnt up. In front the great wall of hills rises dark and ominous.
At length Dargai at the foot of the pass is reached. It is another
mud fort, swelled during the operations into an entrenched camp, and
surrounded by a network of barbed wire entanglement. The Malakand Pass
can now be seen--a great cleft in the line of mountains--and far up the
gorge, the outline of the fort that guards it, is distinguishable.

The graded road winds up, with many a turn, the long ascent from Dargai
to the top of the pass. The driver flogs the wretched, sore-backed
ponies tirelessly. At length the summit is neared. The view is one worth
stopping to look at. Behind and below, under the haze of the heat, is
the wide expanse of open country--smooth, level, stretching away to the
dim horizon. The tonga turns the corner and enters a new world. A
cooler breeze is blowing. A single step has led from peace to war; from
civilisation to savagery; from India to the mountains. On all sides the
landscape is wild and rugged. Ridge succeeds ridge. Valley opens into
valley. As far as the eye can reach in every direction are ragged peaks
and spurs. The country of the plains is left, and we have entered a
strange land, as tangled as the maze at Hampton Court, with mountains
instead of hedges. So broken and so confused is the ground, that I
despair of conveying a clear impression of it.

The Malakand is like a great cup, of which the rim is broken into
numerous clefts and jagged points. At the bottom of this cup is the
"crater" camp. The deepest cleft is the Malakand Pass. The highest of
the jagged points is Guides Hill, on a spur of which the fort stands.
It needs no technical knowledge to see, that to defend such a place, the
rim of the cup must be held. But in the Malakand, the bottom of the cup
is too small to contain the necessary garrison. The whole position is
therefore, from the military point of view, bad and indefensible. In the
revised and improved scheme of defence, arrangements have been made,
to command the available approaches, and to block such as cannot be
commanded with barbed wire entanglements and other obstructions; and by
a judicious system of works much of the rim is now held. But even now
I am told by competent judges that the place is a bad one for defence;
that the pass could be held by the fort alone, and that the brigade
stationed there would be safer and equally useful, if withdrawn to
Dargai. At the time this story opens the Malakand South Camp was an
impossible place to put troops in. It was easy of access. It was cramped
and commanded by neighbouring heights. [Under the arrangements which
have been made since the war, the Malakand position and the works at
Chakdara and Dargai will be held by two battalions and some details.
These will be supported by a flying column, the exact location and
composition of which are as yet undetermined.]

The small area of the camp on the Kotal necessitated the formation of a
second encampment in the plain of Khar. This was close under the
north outer edge of the cup. It was called for political reasons North
Malakand. As a military position it, also, was radically bad. It was
everywhere commanded, and surrounded by ravines and nullahs, which made
it easy for an enemy to get in, and difficult for troops to get out.
It was, of course, of no strategic value, and was merely used as a
habitation for the troops intended to hold Malakand, for whom there was
no room in the crater and fort. The north camp has now been definitely
abandoned.

Nobody, however--least of all those who selected the site--would seem
to have contemplated the possibility of an attack. Indeed the whole
situation was regarded as purely temporary. The vacillation, caused
by the change of parties and policies in England, led to the Malakand
garrison remaining for two years in a position which could not be well
defended either on paper or in reality. At first, after the Chitral
campaign of 1895, it was thought that the retention of the brigade in
this advanced post, was only a matter of a few weeks. But as the months
passed by the camp began, in spite of the uncertainty, to assume an
appearance of permanency. The officers built themselves huts and mess
rooms. A good polo ground was discovered near Khar, and under careful
management rapidly improved. A race-course was projected. Many officers
who were married brought their wives and families to the camp among
the mountains, and the whole place was rapidly becoming a regular
cantonment. No cases of Ghazi outrage broke the tranquillity. The
revolvers, which all persons leaving camp were by regulations obliged
to take, were either unloaded or carried by a native groom. Shooting
parties were organised to the hills. A well-contested polo tournament
was held in Christmas week. Distinguished travellers--even a member of
Parliament--visited this outpost of empire, and observed with interest
the swiftness and ease with which the Anglo-Saxon adapts every situation
to his sports and habits.

At the same time the station of the Malakand Brigade was far from being
a comfortable one. For two years they lived under canvas or in rude
huts. They were exposed to extremes of climate. They were without
punkahs or ice in the hot weather. They were nearly fifty miles from
the railway, and in respect of companionship and amusements were thrown
entirely on their own resources. When the British cavalry officer
succeeds, in spite of official opposition, expense and discouragement,
in getting on service across the frontier, he is apt to look with
envious eyes at the officers of the Frontier Force, who are taken as a
matter of course and compelled to do by command, what he would solicit
as a favour. But he must remember that this is their compensation for
long months of discomfort and monotony in lonely and out-of-the-way
stations, and for undergoing hardships which, though honourable and
welcome in the face of the enemy, become obnoxious in times of peace.

After crossing the Malakand Pass the first turning to the right leads
to the Swat Valley. The traveller is now within the mountains. In every
direction the view is restricted or terminated by walls of rock. The
valley itself is broad, level and fertile. The river flows swiftly
through the middle. On either side of it, is a broad strip of rice
fields. Other crops occupy the drier ground. Numerous villages, some of
which contain large populations, are scattered about. It is a beautiful
scene. The cool breezes of the mountains temper the heat of the sun. The
abundant rains preserve the verdure of the earth.

In ancient times this region was the seat of a Buddhistic kingdom,
and was known as Woo-Chang or "Udyana," which means "the Park," and
proclaims the appreciation which its former possessors had of their
pleasant valley. "The people," says the Chinese pilgrim Fa-hien, who
visited the country in the fifth century, "all use the language of
Central India, 'Central India' being what we should call the 'Middle
Kingdom.' The food and clothes of the common people are the same as
in that Central Kingdom. The law of Buddha is very flourishing in
Woo-Chang." "The Park," which includes all the country on both banks of
the Swat River--then called the Subhavastu--but which perhaps applies
more particularly to the upper end of the valley, was famous for its
forests, flowers and fruit. But though the valley retains much of its
beauty, its forests have been destroyed by the improvidence, and its
flowers and fruit have declined through the ignorance, of the fierce
conquerors into whose hands it fell.

The reputation which its present inhabitants enjoy is evil. Their
treacherous character has distinguished them even among peoples
notoriously faithless and cruel. Among Pathans it is a common saying:
"Swat is heaven, but the Swatis are hell-fiends." For many years they
had lain under the stigma of cowardice, and were despised as well as
distrusted by the tribes of the border; but their conduct in the recent
fighting has cleared them at least from this imputation.

Several minor chieftains now divide authority in the Swat Valley, but
till 1870 it was governed by a single ruler. The Ahkund of Swat was by
origin a cowherd, an office considered most honourable in India. The
cow is a sacred beast. His service is acceptable to the Gods and men.
Princes glory in the name--though they do not usually carry their
enthusiasm further. "Guicowar" translated literally means "cowherd."
From such employment the future Ahkund received his inspiration. He sat
for many years by the banks of the Indus, and meditated. Thus he became
a saint. The longer his riparian reflections were continued, the greater
his sanctity became. The fame of his holiness spread throughout all the
region. The Swatis besought him to come and live in their valley. After
dignified and diplomatic reluctance, he consented to exchange the banks
of the Indus for those of the Swat. For some years, he lived in the
green valley, and enjoyed the reverence of its people. At the time of
the great mutiny, Said Akbar, the King of Swat, died, and the saint
succeeded to the temporal as well as the spiritual authority. In 1863
he preached the Jehad against the British, and headed the Swatis
and Bunerwals in the Ambeyla campaign. The power which the Sirkar so
extravagantly displayed to bring the war to an end, evidently impressed
the old man, for at its close he made friends with the Government and
received from them many tokens of respect.

Before he died in 1870, he summoned his people around him and declared
to them that one day their valley would be the scene of a struggle
between the Russians and the British. When that came to pass he charged
them to fight on our side. The saying is firmly fixed in the hearts of
the tribesmen, and is associated with the memory of their famous priest,
known to English minds chiefly through the medium of the "Bab Ballads."

His two sons are dead, but his two grandsons, [the Mianguls of Swat]
both quite young, live on in the valley, and are the owners of the
Ahkund's freeholds, which are in every section of the Swat country. They
have very little political influence; but their persons and property
are respected by the people and by the British for the sake of their
grandfather, who sleeps in an odour of sanctity at Saidu, near Mingaora.

From the Malakand the signal tower of Chakdara can be seen eight miles
away to the eastward. Thither the broad graded road runs like a ribbon
across the plain. Seven miles from the Kotal Camp, it crosses the
Amandara Pass, a gap in a considerable underfeature, which juts from the
southern mountains. After this it turns more to the north and leads to
the fortified bridge across the river. I invite the reader to remark
this road, for it is historic. It is not only the route by which the
Malakand Field Force was able to advance, but it is the very reason of
their existence. Without this road there would have been no Malakand
Camps, no fighting, no Malakand Field Force, no story. It is the road to
Chitral.

Here then, at once, the whole vast question of frontier policy is
raised. We hold the Malakand Pass to keep the Chitral road open. We
keep the Chitral road open because we have retained Chitral. We retain
Chitral in accordance with the "Forward Policy." I am thus confronted at
the very outset of this book, which was intended to be devoted chiefly
to the narration of military events and small incidents, with that wide
political question, on which the keenest intellects in England are in
doubt, and the most valuable expert evidence in India is divided.
The reader must not think me pusillanimous or weak if I postpone the
discussion of so great and controversial a matter till a later chapter,
when I may perhaps enjoy a larger measure of his sympathy and agreement.
After the story has been told, it may not be inappropriate to point the
moral.

Prudence encourages procrastination. But while the consideration of the
advisability of the retention of Chitral may be deferred, a description
of the means is convenient, if not necessary, to the present chapter.

Nowshera is the railway base of the road. Thence we have followed it
to Mardan and across the frontier. Here the new and disputed portion
begins. Passing at first through the Lower Ranizai country, it climbs
the Malakand Pass, descends into the valley beyond and runs thence
through Upper Ranizai territory and Lower Swat to Chakdara. Here it
crosses the Swat River by the fine suspension bridge which the fort
guards. The three spans of this bridge are together nearly 1500 feet
long. It was constructed in 1895, during the operations, in about six
weeks, and is a very remarkable piece of military engineering. Beyond
the Swat the road runs through the territories of the Khan of Dir, north
and east to Sadu, an obscure village thirty-five miles from Malakand.
This marks the end of the first section, and further than this wheeled
traffic cannot go. The road, now become a camel track, winds along the
left bank of the Panjkora River to within five miles of Dir, where
it crosses to the right bank by another suspension bridge. Thence it
continues to the junction of the Dir stream, along which it finds its
way to Dir itself, some fifty miles from Sadu. Beyond Dir camels cannot
proceed, and here begins the third section--a path practicable only for
mules, and about sixty miles long. From Dir the road is a triumph of
engineering. In many places it is carried on wooden galleries perched on
the faces of steep and tremendous cliffs, and at others it works round
spurs by astounding zig-zags, or is scarped from the mountain side. At
the end of the road is Fort Chitral with a garrison of two battalions,
one company of sappers, and two mountain guns.

The road is maintained and protected by the tribes through whose
territories it passes; but the two principal points where it might be
closed are held by Imperial garrisons. The Malakand Fort guards the
passage of the mountains. Chakdara holds the bridge across the river.
The rest is left to the tribal levies. The Ranizai tribe receive an
annual subsidy from the Indian Government of 30,000 rupees, out of which
they maintain 200 irregulars armed with Sniders, and irreverently
called by the British officers, "Catch-'em-alive-Os." These drive away
marauders and discourage outrage and murder. The Khan of Dir, through
whose territory the road runs for seventy-three miles, also receives a
subsidy from Government of 60,000 rupees, in consideration of which he
provides 400 irregulars for its service.

Until the great rising these arrangements worked admirably. The
tribesmen interested in the maintenance of the route, were most
reluctant to engage in hostilities against the Government. The Lower
Ranizais, south of Malakand, abstained altogether. The elders of the
tribe collected all the arms of their hot-headed youths, and forbade
them to attack the troops. The Upper Ranizais were nearer the scene of
the disturbance, and were induced by superstition and fear to join
the Mullah; but very half-heartedly. The Swatis were carried away
by fanaticism. The Khan of Dir throughout behaved loyally, as he is
entirely dependent on British support, and his people realise the
advantages of the subsidy.

If the road is interesting its story is more so, and a summary of the
events and causes which have led to its construction, may also throw
some light on the political history and methods of the border tribes.

The uncertainty and insecurity of their power, has always led petty
chiefs to seek the support of some powerful suzerain. In 1876 the Mehtar
of Chitral, Aman-ul-Mulk, was encouraged to seek the protection, and
become the vassal of our vassal, the Maharaja of Cashmere. In accordance
with the general scheme of advance, then already adopted by the Indian
Government, a British agency was at once established at Gilgit on the
Chitral-Cashmere frontier. Aman-ul-Mulk was presented with a certain
supply of arms and ammunition, and an annual subsidy of 6000 rupees,
afterwards raised to 12,000 rupees. The British thus obtained an
interest in Chitral, and a point of observation on its borders. In 1881
the agency was withdrawn, but the influence remained, and in 1889 it was
re-established with a much larger garrison. Meanwhile Aman-ul-Mulk ruled
in Chitral, showing great respect to the wishes of the Government, and
in the enjoyment of his subsidy and comparative peace. But in 1892
he died, leaving many sons, all equally ferocious, ambitious and
unscrupulous. One of these, Afzal by name, though not the eldest or
acknowledged heir, had the good fortune to be on the spot. He seized the
reins of power, and having murdered as many if his brothers as he could
catch, proclaimed himself Mehtar, and invited the recognition of the
Indian Government. He was acknowledged chief, as he seemed to be "a
man of courage and determination," and his rule afforded a prospect of
settled government. Surviving brothers fled to neighbouring states.

Nizam, the eldest, came to Gilgit and appealed to the British. He got
no help. The blessing had already been bestowed. But in November, 1892,
Sher Afzul, a brother of the late Aman, returned by stealth to Chitral,
whence fraternal affection had driven him, and killed the new Mehtar and
another brother, both of whom were his nephews. The "wicked uncle" then
ascended the throne, or its equivalent. He was, however, opposed. The
Indian Government refused to recognise him. Nizam, at Gilgit, urged his
claims, and was finally allowed to go and try to regain his inheritance.
The moral support of 250 Cashmere rifles brought him many adherents. He
was joined by the people. It was the landing of William of Orange on a
reduced scale, and with Cashmere troops instead of Dutch Guards. Twelve
hundred men sent by Sher Afzul to oppose him, deserted to his side. The
avuncular usurper, realising that it might be dangerous to wait longer,
fled to Afghanistan, as James II had fled to France, was received by the
ruler with hospitality, and carefully preserved as an element of future
disorder.

Nizam now became Mehtar according to his desire. But he did not greatly
enjoy his power, and may have evolved some trite reflections on the
vanity of earthly ambition. From the first he was poor and unpopular.
With the support of the Government of India, however, he managed to
maintain a weak, squalid rule for a space. To give him countenance,
and in accordance with the Policy, Captain Younghusband was sent to the
country with a hundred bayonets. The Gilgit garrison was increased by
a battalion, and several posts were established between that place and
Mastuj.

Thus the Imperial forces had entered Chitral. Their position was soon to
become one of danger. They were separated from Gilgit by many miles of
bad road, and warlike tribesmen. To move troops from Gilgit would always
be slow and difficult. Another route was however possible, the route I
have described--a route northwards from Peshawar through Dir--shorter
and easier, starting from British territory and the railway. Towards
this line of communication the Indian Government now looked. If British
troops or agents were to be retained in Chitral, if in other words their
recognised policy was to be continued, this route must be opened up.
They sounded the Home Government. Lord Kimberley replied, deprecating
increase of responsibilities, of territory and expenditure, and
declining to pledge himself to support such a scheme. At the same time
he sanctioned the temporary retention of the troops, and the agent, in
the hopes of strengthening Nizam. [Despatch from Secretary of State,
No.34, 1st Sept., 1893.]

At this point Umra Khan must enter the story. The Gilgit agency report,
dated 28th April, 1890, speaks of this chief, who was the Khan of
Jandul, but whose influence pervaded the whole of Bajaur as "the most
important man between Chitral and Pashawar." To this powerful ruler,
another of the sons of Aman, named Amir, had fled from the family
massacre which followed his father's death. Umra Khan protected him
and determined to turn him to his own advantage. In May, 1894, this
youth--he was about twenty years of age--returned to Chitral, professing
to have escaped from the hands of Umra Khan. He was kindly received by
Nizam, who seems to have been much hampered throughout his career by his
virtue. On 1st January, 1895, Amir availed himself of his welcome, to
murder his brother, and the principal members of the Chitral Cabinet.
He proclaimed himself Mentar and asked for recognition. The Imperial
officers, though used to frontier politics, refused to commit themselves
to any arrangement with such a villain, until the matter had been
considered in India.

Umra Khan now advanced with a large force to the head of the Chitral
Valley, nominally to assist his dear friend and ally, Amir, to
consolidate his rule, really in the hopes of extending his own
territories. But Amir, knowing Umra well, and having won his kingdom,
did not desire to share it. Fighting ensued. The Chitrals were beaten.
As he could not make any use of Amir, Umra Khan invited the wicked uncle
to return. Sher Afzul accepted. A bargain was struck. Sher Afzul claimed
to be made Mehtar, Umra supported his claims. Both threatened force in
the event of opposition.

But the Imperial Government rose in wrath, refused to have anything
to do with the new claimant, informed him that his language was
impertinent, and warned Umra Khan to leave Chitral territory forthwith
or take the consequences. The answer was war. The scanty garrisons and
scattered parties of British troops were attacked. A company of the
14th Sikhs was cut to pieces. Lieutenants Fowler and Edwards were taken
prisoners. Fort Chitral, into which the rest of the Chitral mission and
their escort had thrown themselves, was closely and fiercely besieged.
To rescue them was imperative. The 1st Division of the Field Army was
mobilised. A force of nearly 16,000 men crossed the frontier on the 1st
April, from Mardan, to advance to the relief by the shortest route--the
route through Swat and Dir--the line of the present Chitral road. The
command of the expedition was confided to Sir Robert Low. Sir Bindon
Blood was Chief of the Staff.

So far the tale has been of the steady increase of British influence, in
accordance with an avowed and consistent policy--primarily in Chitral,
and ultimately throughout the border tribes. One movement has been
followed by another. All have been aimed at a common end. Now suddenly
we are confronted with an act by which the Government of India with open
eyes placed an obstacle in the path, which they had so long pursued, to
follow which they had made so many efforts themselves and demanded
so many sacrifices from their subjects. Perhaps from compunction, but
probably to soothe the Liberal Government, by appearing to localise the
disturbances, and disclaiming any further acquisition of territory,
they issued a proclamation to "all the people of Swat and the people
of Bajaur, who do not side with Umra Khan," in which they declared that
they had "no intention of permanently occupying any territory through
which Umra Khan's misconduct" might "force them to pass, or of
interfering with the independence of the tribes." [Proclamation, 14th
March, 1895.]

If this proclamation was intended for political purposes in England,
it, from one point of view, succeeded most admirably, for there has been
nearly as much written about it as about all the soldiers who have
been killed and wounded in the war. It had, however, no effect upon the
tribesmen, who were infuriated by the sight if the troops and paid no
attention to the protestations of the Government. Had they watched
with care the long, steady, deliberate advance, which I have so briefly
summarised; had they read the avowed and recorded determination of the
Indian Administration "to extend and, by degrees, to consolidate their
influence" [Letter from Government of India, No.407, 28th February,
1879.] in the whole drainage system of the Indus, they might have
even doubted their sincerity. Instead, and being unable to make fine
distinctions, they saw only invasion in the military movements.

They gathered accordingly, to oppose the advance of the troops. To the
number of 12,000 they occupied the Malakand Pass--a tremendous position.
From this they were driven with great slaughter on the 3rd of April, by
the two leading brigades of Sir Robert Low's force. Further operations
resulted in the passage of the Swat and Panjkora Rivers being effected.
The road to Chitral was open. The besiegers of the fort fled, and a
small relieving force was able to push through from Gilgit under Colonel
Kelly. Umra Khan fled to Afghanistan, and the question of future policy
came before the Government of India.

Two alternatives presented themselves: either they must "abandon the
attempt to keep up any effective control" over Chitral, or they must put
a sufficient garrison there. In pursuance of their recognised policy,
the Council decided unanimously that to maintain British influence in
Chitral was "a matter of first importance." In a despatch [Despatch of
Government of India, No.240, 8th May, 1895.] to the Home Government they
set forth all their reasons, and at the same time declared that it
was impossible to garrison Chitral without keeping up the road from
Peshawar, by which the Relief force had advanced.

On the 13th of June Lord Rosebery's Cabinet replied decisively, with
courage if not with wisdom, that "no military force or European agent
should be kept at Chitral, that Chitral should not be fortified, and
that no road should be made between Peshawar and Chitral." By this they
definitely and finally repudiated the policy which had been consistently
followed since 1876. They left Chitral to stew in its own juice. They
over-ruled the Government of India. It was a bold and desperate attempt
to return to the old frontier line. The Indian Government replied: "We
deeply regret but loyally accept decision," and began to gather up the
severed strings of their policy and weave another web.

But in the nick of time the Liberal Administration fell, and Lord
Salisbury's Cabinet reversed their decision. It is interesting, in
reading the Blue Books on Indian questions, to watch the emotions
of party principles, stirring beneath the uniform mask of official
responsibility--which the most reckless of men are compelled to wear as
soon as they become ministers. The language, the style, the tone of the
correspondence is the same. It is always a great people addressing and
instructing their pro-consuls and administrators. But the influence
inclines backwards and forwards as the pendulum of politics swings. And
as the swing in 1895 was a very great one, a proportionate impulse was
given to the policy of advance. "It seemed" to the new ministry "that
the policy... continuously pursued by successive Governments ought
not to be lightly abandoned unless its maintenance had become clearly
impossible." [Despatch, Secretary of State, No.30, 16th Aug., 1895.]
Thus the retention of Chitral was sanctioned, and the road which that
retention necessitated was completed.

I approach with nervousness so great a matter as the "Breach of Faith"
question. In a book devoted chiefly to the deeds of soldiers it seems
almost presumptuous to discuss an affair which involves the political
honour of statesmen. In their unnecessary and gratuitous proclamation
the Government of India declared, that they had no intention of
interfering with the tribes, or of permanently occupying any territory,
the troops might march through; whereas now they do interfere with
the tribesmen, and have established garrisons at Dargai, Malakand and
Chakdara, all of which are in the territory through which the troops
passed. But it takes two to make a bargain or a breach of faith. The
tribes took no notice of the proclamation. They did not understand it.
They did not believe it. Where there is no faith there can be no
breach of faith. The border peoples resisted the advance. That position
annulled the proclamation, and proved that it was not credited by the
tribesmen. They do not think they have been tricked. They do not regard
the road as a "breach of faith." What they do regard it as, is a menace
to their independence, and a prelude to annexation. Nor are they wrong.
Looking at the road, as I have seen it, and have tried to describe it,
running broad and white across the valley; at the soldiers moving
along it; at the political officers extending their influence in all
directions; at the bridge and fort of Chakdara; and at the growing
cantonment on the Malakand Pass, it needs no education to appreciate its
significance. Nor can any sophistry obscure it.





CHAPTER III: THE OUTBREAK


    Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum.

                                 LUCRETIUS.



The historian of great events is always oppressed by the difficulty of
tracing the silent, subtle influences, which in all communities precede
and prepare the way for violent outbursts and uprisings. He may discover
many causes and record them duly, but he will always be sensible that
others have escaped him. The changing tides of public opinion, the
undercurrents of interest, partisanship and caprice, the whirlpools of
illogical sentiment or ignorant prejudice, exert forces so complex and
numerous, that to observe and appreciate them all, and to estimate the
effect of each in raising the storm, is a task beyond the intellect and
industry of man. The chronicler of small things lies under even greater
disabilities. He has fewer facts to guide his judgment, nor is it as
easy to read small print as capital letters.

In an attempt to state the causes of the great tribal upheaval of 1897,
these difficulties are increased by the fact that no European can gauge
the motives or assume the points of view of Asiatics. It is, however,
impossible to pass the question by, and ignoring the detail, I shall
endeavour to indicate some at least of the most important and apparent
forces, which have led to the formidable combination with which the
British power in India has been confronted.

The most marked incident in the "Forward Policy" has been the retention
of Chitral. The garrisons, the road, the tribal levies have made the
tribesmen realise the proximity and the advance of civilisation. It is
possible--even probable--that with all their love of independence, the
majority of the inhabitants of the mountains would have been willing,
until their liberties were actually curtailed, to remain in passive
submission, soothed by the increase of material prosperity. During
the two years that the British flag had floated over Chakdara and the
Malakand the trade of the Swat Valley had nearly doubled. As the sun
of civilisation rose above the hills, the fair flowers of commerce
unfolded, and the streams of supply and demand, hitherto congealed by
the frost of barbarism, were thawed. Most of the native population were
content to bask in the genial warmth and enjoy the new-found riches and
comforts. For two years reliefs had gone to and from Chitral without
a shot being fired. Not a post-bag had been stolen, not a messenger
murdered. The political officers riding about freely among the fierce
hill men were invited to settle many disputes, which would formerly have
been left to armed force.

But a single class had viewed with quick intelligence and intense
hostility the approach of the British power. The priesthood of the
Afghan border instantly recognised the full meaning of the Chitral
road. The cause of their antagonism is not hard to discern. Contact with
civilisation assails the ignorance, and credulity, on which the wealth
and influence of the Mullah depend. A general combination of the
religious forces of India against that civilising, educating rule, which
unconsciously saps the strength of superstition, is one of the dangers
of the future. Here Mahommedanism was threatened and resisted. A vast,
but silent agitation was begun. Messengers passed to and fro among the
tribes. Whispers of war, a holy war, were breathed to a race intensely
passionate and fanatical. Vast and mysterious agencies, the force of
which is incomprehensible to rational minds, were employed. More
astute brains than the wild valleys of the North produce conducted
the preparations. Secret encouragement came from the South--from India
itself. Actual support and assistance was given from Cabul.

In that strange half light of ignorance and superstition, assailed by
supernatural terrors and doubts, and lured by hopes of celestial glory,
the tribes were taught to expect prodigious events. Something was
coming. A great day for their race and faith was at hand. Presently the
moment would arrive. They must watch and be ready. The mountains became
as full of explosives as a magazine. Yet the spark was lacking.

At length the time came. A strange combination of circumstances operated
to improve the opportunity. The victory of the Turks over the Greeks;
the circulation of the Amir's book on "Jehad"; his assumption of the
position of a Caliph of Islam, and much indiscreet writing in the
Anglo-Indian press, [Articles in Anglo-Indian papers on such subjects as
"The Recrudescence if Mahommedanism" produce more effect on the educated
native mind than the most seditious frothings of the vernacular press.]
united to produce a "boom" in Mahommedanism.

The moment was propitious; nor was the man wanting. What Peter the
Hermit was to the regular bishops and cardinals of the Church, the
Mad Mullah was to the ordinary priesthood of the Afghan border. A wild
enthusiast, convinced alike of his Divine mission and miraculous powers,
preached a crusade, or Jehad, against the infidel. The mine was fired.
The flame ran along the ground. The explosions burst forth in all
directions. The reverberations have not yet died away.

Great and widespread as the preparations were, they were not visible
to the watchful diplomatic agents who maintained the relations of the
Government with the tribesmen. So extraordinary is the inversion of
ideas and motives among those people that it may be said that those who
know them best, know them least, and the more logical the mind of the
student the less he is able to understand of the subject. In any case
among these able men who diligently collected information and observed
the state of feeling, there were none who realised the latent forces
that were being accumulated on all sides. The strange treachery at
Maizar in June was a flash in the pan. Still no one saw the danger. It
was not until the early days of July that it was noticed that there
was a fanatical movement in Upper Swat. Even then its significance was
disregarded and its importance underrated. That a Mad Fakir had arrived
was known. His power was still a secret. It did not long remain so.

It is, thank heaven, difficult if not impossible for the modern European
to fully appreciate the force which fanaticism exercises among an
ignorant, warlike and Oriental population. Several generations have
elapsed since the nations of the West have drawn the sword in religious
controversy, and the evil memories of the gloomy past have soon faded in
the strong, clear light of Rationalism and human sympathy. Indeed it is
evident that Christianity, however degraded and distorted by cruelty and
intolerance, must always exert a modifying influence on men's passions,
and protect them from the more violent forms of fanatical fever, as we
are protected from smallpox by vaccination. But the Mahommedan religion
increases, instead of lessening, the fury of intolerance. It was
originally propagated by the sword, and ever since, its votaries have
been subject, above the people of all other creeds, to this form of
madness. In a moment the fruits of patient toil, the prospects of
material prosperity, the fear of death itself, are flung aside. The more
emotional Pathans are powerless to resist. All rational considerations
are forgotten. Seizing their weapons, they become Ghazis--as dangerous
and as sensible as mad dogs: fit only to be treated as such. While the
more generous spirits among the tribesmen become convulsed in an ecstasy
of religious bloodthirstiness, poorer and more material souls derive
additional impulses from the influence of others, the hopes of plunder
and the joy of fighting. Thus whole nations are roused to arms. Thus
the Turks repel their enemies, the Arabs of the Soudan break the British
squares, and the rising on the Indian frontier spreads far and wide. In
each case civilisation is confronted with militant Mahommedanism. The
forces of progress clash with those of reaction. The religion of blood
and war is face to face with that of peace. Luckily the religion of
peace is usually the better armed.

The extraordinary credulity of the people is hardly conceivable. Had the
Mad Mullah called on them to follow him to attack Malakand and Chakdara
they would have refused. Instead he worked miracles. He sat at his
house, and all who came to visit him, brought him a small offering of
food or money, in return for which he gave them a little rice. As
his stores were continually replenished, he might claim to have fed
thousands. He asserted that he was invisible at night. Looking into
his room, they saw no one. At these things they marvelled. Finally he
declared he would destroy the infidel. He wanted no help. No one should
share the honours. The heavens would open and an army would descend. The
more he protested he did not want them, the more exceedingly they came.
Incidentally he mentioned that they would be invulnerable; other agents
added arguments. I was shown a captured scroll, upon which the tomb of
the Ghazi--he who has killed an infidel--is depicted in heaven, no fewer
than seven degrees above the Caaba itself. Even after the fighting--when
the tribesmen reeled back from the terrible army they had assailed,
leaving a quarter of their number on the field--the faith of the
survivors was unshaken. Only those who had doubted had perished, said
the Mullah, and displayed a bruise which was, he informed them, the sole
effect of a twelve-pound shrapnel shell on his sacred person.

I pass with relief from the tossing sea of Cause and Theory to the firm
ground of Result and Fact. The rumours and reports which reached the
Malakand of the agitation in Upper Swat and among the surrounding tribes
were fully appreciated by the Pathan Sepoys of the garrison. As July
advanced, several commanding officers were warned by their men, that
great events were impending. Major Deane, the political agent, watched
with great anxiety the daily progress of the fanatical movement. No one
desires to be thought an alarmist, least of all on the frontier where
there is always danger. At length, however, he felt compelled to
officially report the disquieting signs. Warnings were then issued
to the officers in charge of the various posts, and the troops were
practised in taking up alarm stations. By the 23rd of July all had been
informed that the aspect of affairs was threatening, and ordered to
observe every precaution. But to the last everybody doubted that there
would be a rising, nor did any one imagine that even should one occur,
it would lead to more than a skirmish. The natives were friendly and
respectful. The valley smiled in fertile prosperity. It was not strange,
that none could foresee the changes a week would bring, or guess that in
a few days they would be fighting for their lives; that they would carry
fire and sword through the peaceful landscape; that the polo ground
would be the scene of a cavalry charge, or that the cheery barbarians
among whom they had lived quietly for so many months would become
maddened and ferocious savages. Never was transformation of scene more
complete, or more rapid.

And all the while the rumours of coming war grew stronger and stronger.
The bazaars of India, like the London coffee-houses of the last century,
are always full of marvellous tales--the invention of fertile brains. A
single unimportant fact is exaggerated, and distorted, till it becomes
unrecognisable. From it, a thousand wild, illogical, and fantastic
conclusions are drawn. These again are circulated as facts. So the game
goes on. But amid all this falsehood, and idle report, there often lies
important information. The bazaar stories not only indicate the state
of native opinion, but not infrequently contain the germ of truth.
In Eastern lands, news travels by strange channels, and often with
unaccountable rapidity. As July advanced the bazaar at Malakand became
full of tales of the Mad Fakir. His miracles passed from mouth to mouth,
with suitable additions.

A great day for Islam was at hand. A mighty man had arisen to lead them.
The English would be swept away. By the time of the new moon, not one
would remain. The Great Fakir had mighty armies concealed among the
mountains. When the moment came these would sally forth--horse, foot and
artillery--and destroy the infidel. It was even stated that the Mullah
had ordered that no one should go near a certain hill, lest the heavenly
hosts should be prematurely revealed. So ran the talk. But among all
these frothy fabrications there lay a solemn warning.

Though the British military and political officers were compelled to
take official notice of the reports received with reference to the
tribal gathering, and to make arrangements for the safety of their
posts, they privately scouted the idea that any serious events were
impending.

On the afternoon of the 26th July the subalterns and younger officers of
the Malakand garrison proceeded to Khar to play polo. Thither also came
Lieutenant Rattray, riding over from Chakdara fort. The game was a good
one, and the tribesmen of the neighbouring village watched it as usual
in little groups, with a keen interest. Nothing in their demeanour
betrayed their thoughts or intentions. The young soldiers saw nothing,
knew nothing, and had they known would have cared less. There would be
no rising. If there was, so much the better. They were ready for it. The
game ended and the officers cantered back to their camps and posts.

It was then that a strange incident occurred--an incident eminently
characteristic of the frontier tribes. As the syces were putting the
rugs and clothing on the polo ponies, and loitering about the ground
after the game, the watching natives drew near and advised them to be
off home at once, for that there was going to be a fight. They knew,
these Pathans, what was coming. The wave of fanaticism was sweeping down
the valley. It would carry them away. They were powerless to resist.
Like one who feels a fit coming on, they waited. Nor did they care
very much. When the Mad Fakir arrived, they would fight and kill the
infidels. In the meantime there was no necessity to deprive them of
their ponies. And so with motives, partly callous, partly sportsmanlike,
and not without some faint suspicion of chivalry, they warned the native
grooms, and these taking the hint reached the camp in safety.

Late on this same afternoon Major Deane reported to Brigadier-General
Meiklejohn, who commanded the Malakand garrison, that matters had
assumed a very grave aspect; that a great armed gathering had collected
around the Mad Mullah's standard, and that an attack was probable. He
advised that the Guides should be called up to reinforce the brigade.
A telegram was immediately despatched to Mardan ordering them to march
without delay. At 8.30 Lieutenant P. Eliott-Lockhart, who was the senior
officer then with the regiment, received the order. At 1.30 A.M. they
began their now famous march.

After sending for the Guides, the brigadier, at about seven o'clock,
interviewed his different commanding officers, and instructed them to
be prepared to turn out at any moment. Major Deane now reported that
the Mad Mullah and his gathering were advancing down the valley, and
recommended that the Amandara Pass, four miles away, should be held.
General Meiklejohn accordingly issued orders for a movable column, to be
formed as follows:--

     45th Sikhs.
     2 Cos. 31st Punjaub Infantry.
     2 Guns No. 8 Mountain Battery.
     1 Squadron 11th Bengal Lancers.

This force, under command of Lieutenant-Colonel McRae, 45th Sikhs, was
to start at midnight and would be supported by the rest of the troops
under command of the brigadier at 3 A.M.

All preparations were swiftly made. At 9.45 a telegram from
Chakdara--which got through just before the wire was cut--reported that
large forces of Pathans were rapidly moving towards the camps. A quarter
of an hour later a Jemadar of the Levies galloped in with the news
that, to quote the official despatch: "The Fakir had passed Khar and was
advancing on Malakand, that neither Levies nor people would act against
him, and that the hills to the east of the camp were covered with
Pathans."

As soon as the officers had returned from polo, they found plenty of
work waiting for them. Bandsmen and boys incapable of carrying arms had
to be hurried up to the fort. Indents had to be made out for transport,
rations and ammunition. There was much to do, and little time to do it
in. At length all was finished, and the troops were in readiness for
their early morning start. At 9.30 the officers sat down to dinner,
still in their polo kit, which there had been no time to change. At 10
o'clock they were discussing the prospects of the approaching march, and
eagerly weighing the chances of a skirmish. The more sanguine asserted
that there would be a fight--a small one, it was true--but still
a skirmish. Many of those who had never been in action before
congratulated themselves on the unlooked-for opportunity. The older and
more experienced regarded the matter in the light of a riot. They might
have to fire on the tribesmen, but Swatis were such cowards that they
would never stand up to the troops. Still it was a chance.

Suddenly in the stillness of the night a bugle-call sounded on the
parade ground of the "crater" camp. Everyone sprang up. It was the
"Assembly." For a moment there was silence while the officers seized
their swords and belts and hurriedly fastened them on. Several, thinking
that it was merely the warning for the movable column to fall in, waited
to light their cigarettes. Then from many quarters the loud explosion of
musketry burst forth, a sound which for six days and nights was to know
no intermission.

The attack on the Malakand and the great frontier war had begun.

The noise of firing echoed among the hills. Its echoes are ringing
still. One valley caught the waves of sound and passed them to the next,
till the whole wide mountain region rocked with the confusion of the
tumult. Slender wires and long-drawn cables carried the vibrations to
the far-off countries of the West. Distant populations on the Continent
of Europe thought that in them they detected the dull, discordant
tones of decline and fall. Families in English homes feared that the
detonations marked the death of those they loved--sons, brothers or
husbands. Diplomatists looked wise, economists anxious, stupid people
mysterious and knowledgeable. All turned to have the noise stopped. But
that was a task which could not be accomplished until thousands of lives
had been sacrificed and millions of money spent.





CHAPTER IV: THE ATTACK ON THE MALAKAND


    Cry "Havoc" and let slip the dogs of war.

                         "JULIUS CAESAR," Act iii., Sc.i.



It has long been recognised by soldiers of every nation that, to resist
a vigorous onslaught by night, is almost the hardest task that troops
can be called upon to perform. Panics, against which few brave men are
proof, arise in a moment from such situations. Many a gallant soldier
has lost his head. Many an experienced officer has been borne
down unheeded by a crowd of fugitives. Regiments that have marched
unflinchingly to almost certain death on the battlefield, become in an
instant terrified and useless.

In the attack on the Malakand camp, all the elements of danger and
disorder were displayed. The surprise, the darkness, the confused and
broken nature of the ground; the unknown numbers of the enemy; their
merciless ferocity; every appalling circumstance was present. But there
were men who were equal to the occasion. As soon as the alarm sounded
Lieutenant-Colonel McRae of the 45th Sikhs, a holder of the Gold Medal
of the Royal Humane Society and of long experience in Afghanistan and on
the Indian frontier, ran to the Quarter Guard, and collecting seven
or eight men, sent them under command of Major Taylor, of the same
regiment, down the Buddhist road to try and check the enemy's advance.
Hurriedly assembling another dozen men, and leaving the Adjutant,
Lieutenant Barff, with directions to bring on more, he ran with his
little party after Taylor in the direction of the entrance gorge of the
Kotal camp. Two roads give access to the Malakand camp, from the plain
of Khar. At one point the Buddhist road, the higher of the two, passes
through a narrow defile then turns a sharp corner. Here, if anywhere,
the enemy might be held or at least delayed until the troops got under
arms. Overtaking Major Taylor, Colonel McRae led the party, which then
amounted to perhaps twenty men, swiftly down the road, It was a race
on which the lives of hundreds depended. If the enemy could turn the
corner, nothing could check their rush, and the few men who tried to
oppose them would be cut to pieces. The Sikhs arrived first, but by a
very little. As they turned the corner they met the mass of the enemy,
nearly a thousand strong, armed chiefly with swords and knives, creeping
silently and stealthily up the gorge, in the hope and assurance of
rushing the camp and massacring every soul in it. The whole road was
crowded with the wild figures. McRae opened fire at once. Volley after
volley was poured into the dense mass, at deadly range. At length the
Sikhs fired independently. This checked the enemy, who shouted and
yelled in fury at being thus stopped. The small party of soldiers then
fell back, pace by pace, firing incessantly, and took up a position in a
cutting about fifty yards behind the corner. Their flanks were protected
on the left by high rocks, and on the right by boulders and rough
ground, over which in the darkness it was impossible to move. The road
was about five yards wide. As fast as the tribesmen turned the corner
they were shot down. It was a strong position.

          In that strait path a thousand
          Might well be stopped by three

Being thus effectively checked in their direct advance, the tribesmen
began climbing up the hill to the left and throwing down rocks and
stones on those who barred their path. They also fired their rifles
round the corner, but as they were unable to see the soldiers without
exposing themselves, most of their bullets went to the right.

The band of Sikhs were closely packed in the cutting, the front rank
kneeling to fire. Nearly all were struck by stones and rocks. Major
Taylor, displaying great gallantry, was mortally wounded. Several of the
Sepoys were killed. Colonel McRae himself was accidentally stabbed in
the neck by a bayonet and became covered with blood. But he called upon
the men to maintain the good name of "Rattray's Sikhs," and to hold
their position till death or till the regiment came up. And the soldiers
replied by loudly shouting the Sikh warcry, and defying the enemy to
advance.

After twenty minutes of desperate fighting, Lieutenant Barff arrived
with thirty more men. He was only just in time. The enemy had already
worked round Colonel McRae's right, and the destruction of the few
soldiers left alive could not long have been delayed. The reinforcement,
climbing up the hillside, drove the enemy back and protected the flank.
But the remainder of the regiment was now at hand. Colonel McRae then
fell back to a more extended position along a ridge about fifty yards
further up the road, and reinforcing Lieutenant Barff's party, repulsed
all attacks during the night. About 2 A.M. the tribesmen, finding they
could make no progress, drew off, leaving many dead.

The presence of mind, tactical knowledge and bravery displayed in
this affair are thus noticed in the official despatches by General
Meiklejohn:--

"There is no doubt that the gallant resistance made by this small body
in the gorge, against vastly superior numbers, till the arrival of the
rest of the regiment, saved the camp from being rushed on that side, and
I cannot speak too highly of the behaviour of Lieutenant-Colonel McRae
and Major Taylor on this occasion."

While these things were passing on the right, the other attacks of the
enemy had met with more success. The camp was assaulted simultaneously
on the three sides. The glow of the star shells showed that the north
camp was also engaged. The enemy had been checked on the Buddhist road,
by Colonel McRae and the 45th Sikhs, but another great mass of men
forced their way along the Graded road in the centre of the position.
On the first sound of firing the inlying picket of the 24th Punjaub
Infantry doubled out to reinforce the pickets on the road, and in the
water-gorge. They only arrived in time to find these being driven in by
overpowering numbers of the enemy. Hundreds of fierce swordsmen swarmed
unto the bazaar and into the serai, a small enclosure which adjoined.
Sharpshooters scrambled up the surrounding hills, and particularly from
one ragged, rock-strewn peak called Gibraltar, kept up a tremendous
fire.

The defence of the left and centre or the camp was confided to the 24th
Punjaub Infantry. One company of this regiment under Lieutenant Climo,
charging across the football ground, cleared the bazaar at the point of
the bayonet. The scene at this moment was vivid and terrible. The bazaar
was crowded with tribesmen. The soldiers rushing forward amid loud
cheers, plunged their bayonets into their furious adversaries. The sound
of the hacking of swords, the screams of the unfortunate shopkeepers,
the yells of the Ghazis were plainly heard above the ceaseless roll of
musketry. The enemy now tried to force their way back into the bazaar,
but the entrance was guarded by the troops and held against all assaults
till about 10.45. The left flank of the company was then turned, and the
pressure became so severe that they were withdrawn to a more interior
line of defence, and took up a position along the edge of the "Sappers'
and Miners' enclosure." Another company held the approaches from the
north camp. The remainder of the regiment and No.5 company Sappers and
Miners, were kept in readiness to reinforce any part of the line.

It is necessary to record the actual movements of the troops in detail,
but I am anxious above all things to give the reader a general idea. The
enemy had attacked in tremendous strength along the two roads that gave
access on the eastern side to the great cup of the Malakand. On the
right road, they were checked by the brilliant movement of Colonel McRae
and the courage of his regiment. Pouring in overwhelming force along
the left road, they had burst into the camp itself, bearing down all
opposition. The defenders, unable to hold the extended line of the rim,
had been driven to take up a central position in the bottom of the cup.
This central position comprised the "Sappers' and Miners' enclosure,"
the commissariat lines and the Field Engineer Park. It was commanded
on every side by the fire from the rim. But the defenders stood at bay,
determined at all costs to hold their ground, bad though it was.

Meanwhile the enemy rushed to the attack with wild courage and reckless
fury. Careless of life, they charged the slender line of defence. Twice
they broke through and penetrated the enclosure. They were met by men as
bold as they. The fighting became desperate. The general himself hurried
from point to point, animating the soldiers and joining in the
defence with sword and revolver. As soon as the enemy broke into the
commissariat lines they rushed into the huts and sheds eager for plunder
and victims.

Lieutenant Manley, the Brigade Commissariat Officer, stuck stubbornly
to his post, and with Sergeant Harrington endeavoured to hold the hut in
which he lived. The savage tribesmen burst in the door and crowded into
the room. What followed reads like a romance.

The officer opened fire at once with his revolver. He was instantly cut
down and hacked to pieces. In the struggle the lamp was smashed. The
room became pitch dark. The sergeant, knocking down his assailants, got
free for a moment and stood against the wall motionless. Having killed
Manley, the tribesmen now began to search for the sergeant, feeling with
their hands along the wall and groping in the darkness. At last, finding
no one, they concluded he had escaped, and hurried out to look for
others. Sergeant Harrington remained in the hut till it was retaken some
hours later, and so saved his life.

Another vigorous attack was made upon the Quarter Guard. Lieutenant
Watling, who met it with his company of sappers, transfixed a Ghazi with
his sword, but such was the fury of the fanatic that as he fell dead
he cut at the officer and wounded him severely. The company were driven
back. The Quarter Guard was captured, and with it the reserve ammunition
of the sappers. Lieutenant Watling was carried in by his men, and,
as soon as he reached the dressing station, reported the loss of this
important post.

Brigadier-General Meiklejohn at once ordered a party of the 24th to
retake it from the enemy. Few men could be spared from the line of
defence. At length a small but devoted band collected. It consisted
of Captain Holland, Lieutenant Climo, Lieutenant Manley, R.E., the
general's orderly, a Sepoy of the 45th Sikhs, two or three sappers and
three men of the 24th; in all about a dozen.

The general placed himself at their head. The officers drew their
revolvers. The men were instructed to use the bayonet only. Then
they advanced. The ground is by nature broken and confused to an
extraordinary degree. Great rocks, undulations and trees rendered all
movements difficult. Frequent tents, sheds and other buildings increased
the intricacies. Amidst such surroundings were the enemy, numerous and
well armed. The twelve men charged. The tribesmen advanced to meet them.
The officers shot down man after man with their pistols. The soldiers
bayoneted others. The enemy drew off discomfited, but half the party
were killed or wounded. The orderly was shot dead. A sapper and a
havildar of the 24th were severely wounded. The general himself
was struck by a sword on the neck. Luckily the weapon turned in his
assailant's hand, and only caused a bruise. Captain Holland was shot
through the back at close quarters by a man concealed in a tent. The
bullet, which caused four wounds, grazed his spine. The party were now
too few to effect anything. The survivors halted. Lieutenant Climo took
the wounded officer back, and collecting a dozen more men of the 24th,
returned to the attack. The second attempt to regain the Quarter Guard
was also unsuccessful, and the soldiers recoiled with further loss; but
with that undaunted spirit which refuses to admit defeat they continued
their efforts, and at the third charge dashed across the open space,
bowling over and crushing back the enemy, and the post was recovered.
All the ammunition had, however, been carried off by the enemy, and
as the expenditure of that night had already been enormous, it was
a serious loss. The commissariat lines were at length cleared of the
tribesmen, and such of the garrison as could be spared were employed in
putting up a hasty defence across the south entrance of the enclosure,
and clearing away the cook-houses and other shelters, which might be
seized by the enemy.

The next morning no fewer than twenty-nine corpses of tribesmen were
found round the cookhouse, and in the open space over which the three
charges had taken place. This, when it is remembered that perhaps twice
as many had been wounded and had crawled away, enables an estimate to be
formed of the desperate nature of the fight for the Quarter Guard.

All this time the fire from rim into the cup had been causing severe and
continual losses. The enemy surrounding the enclosure on three sides,
brought a cross fire to bear on its defenders, and made frequent charges
right up to the breastwork. Bullets were flying in all directions, and
there was no question of shelter. Major Herbert, D.A.A.G., was hit early
in the night. Later on Lieutenant-Colonel Lamb received the dangerous
wound in his thigh which caused his death a few days afterwards. Many
Sepoys were also killed and wounded. The command of the 24th Punjaub
Infantry devolved upon a subaltern officer, Lieutenant Climo. The
regiment, however, will never be in better hands.

At about one o'clock, during a lull in the firing, the company which
was lining the east face of the enclosure heard feeble cries of help. A
wounded havildar of the 24th was lying near the bazaar. He had fallen in
the first attack, shot in the shoulder. The tribesmen, giving him two
or three deep sword cuts to finish him, had left him for dead. He now
appealed for help. The football ground on which he lay was swept by the
fire of the troops, and overrun by the enemy's swordsmen, yet the cry
for help did not pass unheeded. Taking two Sepoys with him, Lieutenant
E.W. Costello, 24th Punjaub Infantry, ran out into the deadly space,
and, in spite of the heavy fire, brought the wounded soldier in safety.
For this heroic action he has since received the Victoria Cross.

As the night wore on, the attack of the enemy became so vigorous, that
the brigadier decided to call for a reinforcement of a hundred men
from the garrison of the fort. This work stood high on a hill, and was
impregnable to an enemy unprovided with field guns. Lieutenant Rawlins
volunteered to try and reach it with the order. Accompanied by three
orderlies, he started. He had to make his way through much broken ground
infested by the enemy. One man sprang at him and struck him on the wrist
with a sword, but the subaltern, firing his revolver, shot him
dead, reached the fort in safety, and brought back the sorely-needed
reinforcement.

It was thought that the enemy would make a final effort to capture
the enclosure before dawn, that being the hour which Afghan tribesmen
usually select. But they had lost heavily, and at about 3.30 A.M. began
to carry away their dead and wounded. The firing did not, however,
lessen until 4.15 A.M., when the sharpshooters withdrew to the heights,
and the fusillade dwindled to "sniping" at long range.

The first night of the defence of the Malakand camp was over. The enemy,
with all the advantages of surprise, position and great numbers, had
failed to overcome the slender garrison. Everywhere they had been
repulsed with slaughter. But the British losses had been severe.

                         BRITISH OFFICERS.
     Killed--Hon. Lieutenant L. Manley, Commissariat Department.
     Wounded dangerously--Major W.W. Taylor, 45th Sikhs.
     Wounded severely--Lieut.-Colonel J. Lamb, 24th P.I.
        "       "       Major L. Herbert, D.A.A.G.
        "       "       Captain H.F. Holland, 24th P.I.
        "       "       Lieutenant F.W. Watling, Q.O. Sappers and
                        Miners.

  Of these Lieut.-Colonel Lamb and Major Taylor died of their wounds.

                         NATIVE RANKS.
     Killed......  21
     Wounded.....   31


As soon as the first light of morning began to grow in the valley, two
companies of the 24th advanced and cleared the bazaar of such of the
enemy as had remained behind to plunder. The whole place had been
thoroughly ransacked, and everything of value destroyed or carried off.
The native manager had had a strange experience, and one which few men
would envy. He had remained hidden in the back of a tent during the
whole night in equal danger and terror of the bullets of the soldiers
and the swords of the enemy. Hearing the friendly voices, he emerged
uninjured from his retreat.

Desultory firing was maintained by the tribesmen all day.

While the close and desperate fighting, which has been described,
was raging in the south camp, the north camp had not been seriously
involved, and had spent a quiet, though anxious night. On the sound of
the firing on the Kotal being heard, four guns of No.8 Mountain Battery
were moved over to the south-east side of the camp, and several star
shells were fired. No large body of the enemy was however discovered.
Twice during the night the camp was approached by the tribesmen, but a
few rounds of shrapnel were sufficient to drive these away.

When General Meiklejohn found that the garrison of the north camp had
not been severely engaged, he ordered a force consisting of two guns and
the 31st Punjaub Infantry, under Major Gibbs, covered by forty sowars
of the 11th Bengal Lancers, and supported by a wing of the 24th, to move
out, reconnoitre the valley and clear it, as much as possible, of the
enemy. The column advanced in pursuit as far as Bedford Hill. Here they
came upon a large gathering of tribesmen, and as it was now evident that
a great tribal rising had broken out, Major Gibbs was ordered to return
and to bring his stores and troops into the Kotal camp without delay.
The infantry and guns thereupon retired and fell back on the camp,
covered by the 24th Punjaub Infantry.

As this regiment was being withdrawn, a sudden attack was made from the
high ground above the Buddhist road, and directed against the left flank
of the troops. A front was immediately shown, and the 24th advanced
to meet their assailants. Lieutenant Climo, who commanded, detached
a company to the right, and by this turning movement drove them off,
inflicting some loss and capturing a standard. This officer's skill
and conduct in this retirement was again the subject of commendation
in despatches. The troops reached their respective camps at about 11
o'clock. Meanwhile the cavalry had been ordered to push on, if possible,
to Chakdara and reinforce the garrison at that post. The task was one of
considerable danger, but by crossing and recrossing the Swat River, the
squadron managed to cut their way through the tribesmen and reached
the fort with slight loss. This brilliant ride will receive a fuller
description in a later chapter.

The evacuation of the north camp proceeded very slowly. The troops
packed up their kits with great deliberation, and applications were
made for transport. None was, however, available. All the camels were
at Dargai, on the Indian side of the mountains. Repeated orders to hurry
were sent from the Kotal. All hated leaving their belongings behind,
having no confidence in the liberality of a paternal Government. As the
afternoon passed, the aspect of the enemy became very threatening and
formidable. Great numbers drew near to the camp, and the guns were
compelled to fire a good many rounds. At length, at 4 o'clock,
imperative orders were sent that the north camp was to be at once
abandoned, that the force there was to march to the Kotal, and that all
baggage and stores, not yet removed, were to be left where they were.

All the tents were struck, but nothing else could be done, and to the
deep disgust of all--officers and men--their property was left to the
mercies of the enemy. During the night it was all looted and burnt. Many
of the officers thus lost every stitch of clothing they possessed. The
flames rising from the scene of destruction were visible far and wide,
and the tribesmen in the most distant valleys were encouraged to hurry
to complete the slaughter of the accursed infidels.

It cannot be doubted, however, that the concentration of the troops was
a wise and judicious step. The garrison of the Kotal and south camp was
insufficient, and, whatever happened, it was better for the troops
to stand or fall together. The situation was also aggravated by the
appearance of large numbers of tribesmen from the Utman Khel country,
who crowded the hills to the west of the camp, and thus compelled the
defenders to hold a greatly extended line. The abandonment of the north
camp was carried out none too soon, for the enemy pressed the withdrawal
of the troops, and they reached the south camp under cover of the fire
of the 24th Punjaub Infantry, and the Guides Cavalry. These latter had
arrived in camp at 8.30 that morning after marching all night. They
found plenty of employment.

The telegraph had carried the news of the events of the night to all
parts of the world. In England those returning from Goodwood Races read
the first details of the fighting on the posters of the evening papers.
At Simla, the Government of India awoke to find themselves confronted
with another heavy task. Other messages recalled all officers to their
regiments, and summoned reinforcements to the scene by road and rail. In
the small hours of the 27th, the officers of the 11th Bengal Lancers at
Nowshera were aroused by a frantic telegraph operator, who was astounded
by the news his machine was clicking out. This man in his shirt sleeves,
with a wild eye, and holding an unloaded revolver by the muzzle, ran
round waking everyone. The whole country was up. The Malakand garrison
was being overwhelmed by thousands of tribesmen. All the troops were to
march at once. He brandished copies of the wires he had received. In a
few moments official instructions arrived. The 11th Bengal Lancers, the
38th Dogras and the 35th Sikhs started at dawn. No.1 and No.7 British
Mountain Batteries were also ordered up. The Guides Cavalry had already
arrived. Their infantry under Lieutenant Lockhart reached the Kotal at
7.30 P.M. on the 27th, having, in spite of the intense heat and choking
dust, covered thirty-two miles in seventeen and a half hours. This
wonderful feat was accomplished without impairing the efficiency of the
soldiers, who were sent into the picket line, and became engaged as soon
as they arrived. An officer who commanded the Dargai post told me,
that, as they passed the guard there, they shouldered arms with parade
precision, as if to show that twenty-six miles under the hottest sun in
the world would not take the polish off the Corps of Guides. Then they
breasted the long ascent to the top of the pass, encouraged by the sound
of the firing, which grew louder at every step.

Help in plenty was thus approaching as fast as eager men could march,
but meanwhile the garrison had to face the danger as best they could
alone. As the 31st Punjaub Infantry, who had been the last to leave the
north camp, were arriving at the Kotal, about 1000 tribesmen descended
in broad daylight and with the greatest boldness, and threatened their
left flank. They drove in two pickets of the 24th, and pressed forward
vigorously. Lieutenant Climo with two companies advanced up the hill to
meet them, supported by the fire of two guns of the Mountain Battery. A
bayonet charge was completely successful. The officers were close enough
to make effective use of their revolvers. Nine bodies of the enemy were
left on the ground, and a standard was captured. The tribesmen then drew
off, and the garrison prepared for the attack, which they knew would
come with the dark.

As the evening drew on the enemy were observed assembling in
ever-increasing numbers. Great crowds of them could be seen streaming
along the Chakdara road, and thickly dotting the hills with spots of
white. They all wore white as yet. The news had not reached Buner, and
the sombre-clad warriors of Ambeyla were still absent. The glare of
the flames from the north camp was soon to summon them to the attack of
their ancient enemies. The spectacle as night fell was strange, ominous,
but not unpicturesque. Gay banners of every colour, shape and device,
waved from the surrounding hills. The sunset caught the flashing of
swordblades behind the spurs and ridges. The numerous figures of the
enemy moved busily about preparing for the attack. A dropping fire from
the sharpshooters added an appropriate accompaniment. In the middle, at
the bottom of the cup, was the "crater" camp and the main enclosure with
the smoke of the evening meal rising in the air. The troops moved to
their stations, and, as the shadows grew, the firing swelled into a
loud, incessant roar.

The disposition of the troops on the night of the 27th was as follows:--

1. On the right Colonel McRae, with 45th Sikhs and two guns supported
by 100 men of the Guides Infantry, held almost the same position astride
the Buddhist road as before.

2. In the centre the enclosure and Graded road were defended by--

     31st Punjaub Infantry.
     No.5 Company Q.O. Sappers and Miners.
     The Guides.
     Two Guns.

3. On the left the 24th Punjaub Infantry, with the two remaining guns
under Lieutenant Climo, held the approaches from the abandoned north
camp and the fort.

Most of this extended line, which occupied a great part of the rim, was
formed by a chain of pickets, detached from one another, and fortified
by stone breastworks, with supports in rear. But in the centre the old
line of the "Sappers' and Miners' enclosure" was adhered to. The bazaar
was left to the enemy, but the serai, about a hundred yards in front of
the main entrenchment, was held by a picket of twenty-four men of the
31st Punjaub Infantry, under Subadar Syed Ahmed Shah. Here it was that
the tragedy of the night occurred.

At eight o'clock, the tribesmen attacked in tremendous force all
along the line. The firing at once became intense and continuous.
The expenditure of ammunition by the troops was very great, and many
thousands of rounds were discharged. On the right Colonel McRae and his
Sikhs were repeatedly charged by the swordsmen, many of whom succeeded
in forcing their way into the pickets and perished by the bayonet.
Others reached the two guns and were cut down while attacking the
gunners. All assaults were however beaten off. The tribesmen suffered
terrible losses. The casualties among the Sikhs were also severe. In the
morning Colonel McRae advanced from his defences, and, covered by the
fire of his two guns, cleared the ground in his front of the enemy.

The centre was again the scene of severe fighting. The tribesmen poured
into the bazaar and attacked the serai on all sides. This post was a
mud-walled enclosure about fifty yards square. It was loopholed for
musketry, but had no flank defences. The enemy made determined efforts
to capture the place for several hours. Meanwhile, so tremendous was the
fire of the troops in the main enclosure, that the attack upon the serai
was hardly noticed. For six hours the picket there held out against all
assaults, but the absence of flank defences enabled the enemy to come
close up to the walls. They then began to make holes through them, and
to burrow underneath. The little garrison rushed from place to place
repelling these attacks. But it was like caulking a sieve. At length the
tribesmen burst in from several quarters, and the sheds inside caught
fire. When all the defenders except four were killed or wounded, the
Subadar, himself struck by a bullet, ordered the place to be evacuated,
and the survivors escaped by a ladder over the back wall, carrying their
wounded with them. The bodies of the killed were found next morning,
extraordinarily mutilated.

The defence of this post to the bitter end must be regarded as a fine
feat of arms. Subadar Syed Ahmed Shah was originally promoted to a
commission for an act of conspicuous bravery, and his gallant conduct on
this occasion is the subject of a special paragraph in despatches.
[The Subadar and the surviving Sepoys have since received the "Order of
Merit."]

On the left, the 24th Punjaub Infantry were also hotly engaged, and
Lieutenant Costello received his first severe wound from a bullet, which
passed through his back and arm. Towards morning the enemy began to
press severely. Whereupon Lieutenant Climo, always inclined to bold and
vigorous action, advanced from the breastworks to meet them with two
companies. The tribesmen held their ground and maintained a continual
fire from Martini-Henry rifles. They also rolled down great stones upon
the companies. The 24th continued to advance, and drove the enemy from
point to point, and position to position, pursuing them for a distance
of two miles. "Gallows Tree" hill, against which the first charge of the
counter attack was delivered, was held by nearly 1000 tribesmen. On such
crowded masses, the fire of the troops was deadly. The enemy left forty
dead in the path of Lieutenant Climo's counter attack, and were observed
carrying off many wounded. As they retreated, many took refuge in the
village of Jalalkot. The guns were hurried up, and ten shells were
thrown into their midst, causing great slaughter. The result of
this bold stroke was, that the enemy during the rest of the fighting
invariably evacuated the hills before daylight enabled the troops to
assume the offensive.

Thus the onslaught of the tribesmen had again been successfully repelled
by the Malakand garrison. Many had been killed and wounded, but all the
tribes for a hundred miles around were hurrying to the attack, and their
number momentarily increased. The following casualties occurred on the
night of the 27th:--

              BRITISH OFFICER.
      Wounded--Lieutenant E.W. Costello.

              NATIVE RANKS.
      Killed......  12
      Wounded.....  29


During the day the enemy retired to the plain of Khar to refresh
themselves. Great numbers of Bunerwals now joined the gathering. The
garrison were able to distinguish these new-comers from the Swatis,
Utman Khels, Mamunds, Salarzais and others, by the black or dark-blue
clothes they wore. The troops were employed in strengthening the
defences, and improving the shelters. The tribesmen kept up a harassing
and annoying long-range fire, killing several horses of the Guides
Cavalry. Towards evening they advanced to renew the attack, carrying
hundreds of standards.

As darkness fell, heavy firing recommenced along the whole front. The
enemy had apparently plenty of ammunition, and replied with effect to
the heavy fire of the troops. The arrangement of the regiments was the
same as on the previous night. On the right, Colonel McRae once more
held his own against all attacks. In the centre, severe fighting ensued.
The enemy charged again and again up to the breastwork of the enclosure.
They did not succeed in penetrating. Three officers and several men were
however wounded by the fire. Lieutenant Maclean, of the Guides Cavalry,
who was attached temporarily to the 31st Punjaub Infantry, had a
wonderful escape. A bullet entered his mouth and passed through his
cheek without injuring the bone in any way. He continued on duty, and
these pages will record his tragic but glorious death a few weeks later
at Landakai.

Lieutenant Ford was dangerously wounded in the shoulder. The bullet cut
the artery, and he was bleeding to death when Surgeon-Lieutenant J.H.
Hugo came to his aid. The fire was too hot to allow of lights being
used. There was no cover of any sort. It was at the bottom of the cup.
Nevertheless the surgeon struck a match at the peril of his life and
examined the wound. The match went out amid a splutter of bullets, which
kicked up the dust all around, but by its uncertain light he saw the
nature of the injury. The officer had already fainted from the loss
of blood. The doctor seized the artery, and, as no other ligature was
forthcoming, he remained under fire for three hours holding a man's
life, between his finger and thumb. When at length it seemed that
the enemy had broken into the camp he picked up the still unconscious
officer in his arms, and, without relaxing his hold, bore him to a place
of safety. His arm was for many hours paralysed with cramp from the
effects of the exertion of compressing the artery.

I think there are few, whatever may be their views or interests, who
will not applaud this splendid act of devotion. The profession of
medicine, and surgery, must always rank as the most noble that men can
adopt. The spectacle of a doctor in action among soldiers, in equal
danger and with equal courage, saving life where all others are taking
it, allaying pain where all others are causing it, is one which must
always seem glorious, whether to God or man. It is impossible to imagine
any situation from which a human being might better leave this world,
and embark on the hazards of the Unknown.

All through the night, the enemy continued their attacks. They often
succeeded in reaching the breastworks--only to die on the bayonets of
the defenders. The guns fired case shot, with terrible effect, and when
morning dawned the position was still held by the Imperial Forces. The
casualties of the night were as follows:--

                     BRITISH OFFICERS.
      Wounded severely--Lieutenant H.B. Ford, 31st Punjaub Infantry.
                             "      H.L.S. Maclean, the Guides.
      Wounded slightly--Lieutenant G. Swinley, 31st Punjaub Infantry.

                     NATIVE RANKS.
      Killed.......  2
      Wounded......   13


On the morning of the 29th signalling communication with Chakdara was
for a few moments re-established. The garrison of that post announced
their safety, and that all attacks had been repulsed with heavy loss,
but they reported that ammunition and food were both running short.
During the day the enemy again retired to the plain to rest, and prepare
for the great attack, which they intended making that night. The hour
would be propitious. It was Jumarat, on which day the prophet watches
with especial care over the interests of those who die for the faith.
Besides, the moon was full, and had not the Great Fakir declared that
this should be the moment of victory? The Mullah exhorted them all
to the greatest efforts, and declared that he would himself lead the
assault. To-night the infidels would be utterly destroyed.

Meanwhile the troops were busily employed, in spite of their terrible
fatigues, in strengthening the defences. The bazaar and the serai were
levelled. Trees were blown up, and a clear field of fire was obtained in
front of the central enclosure. Great bonfires were also prepared on the
approaches, to enable the soldiers to take good aim at their assailants,
while they were silhouetted against the light. In such occupations the
day passed.

The tribesmen continued to fire at long range and shot several horses
and mules. These sharpshooters enjoyed themselves immensely. After
the relief of Chakdara, it was found that many of them had made
most comfortable and effective shelters among the rocks. One man, in
particular, had ensconced himself behind an enormous boulder, and had
built a little wall of stone, conveniently loopholed, to protect himself
when firing. The overhanging rock sheltered him from the heat of the
sun. By his side were his food and a large box of cartridges. Here for
the whole week he had lived, steadily dropping bullets unto the camp and
firing at what an officer described as all "objects of interest." What
could be more attractive?

At four o'clock in the afternoon Major Stuart Beatsen, commanding the
11th Bengal Lancers, arrived with his leading squadron. He brought a
small supply of ammunition, which the garrison was in sore need of, the
expenditure each night being tremendous, some regiments firing as much
as 30,000 rounds. The 35th Sikhs and 38th Dogras under Colonel Reid
arrived at Dargai, at the foot of the pass, in the evening. They had
marched all day in the most intense heat. How terrible that march
must have been, may be judged from the fact, that in the 35th Sikhs
twenty-one men actually died on the road of heat apoplexy. The fact
that these men marched till they dropped dead, is another proof of
the soldierly eagerness displayed by all ranks to get to the front.
Brigadier-General Meiklejohn, feeling confidence in his ability to hold
his own with the troops he had, ordered them to remain halted at Dargai,
and rest the next day.

The attack came with the night, but the defences in the centre had
been much improved, and the tribesmen were utterly unable to cross the
cleared glacis, which now stretched in front of the enclosure. They,
however, assailed both flanks with determination, and the firing
everywhere became heavy. At 2 A.M. the great attack was delivered. Along
the whole front and from every side enormous numbers swarmed to the
assault. On the right and left, hand-to-hand fighting took place.
Colonel McRae again held his position, but many of the tribesmen died
under the very muzzles of the rifles. The 24th Punjaub Infantry on the
left were the most severely engaged. The enemy succeeded in breaking
into the breastworks, and close fighting ensued, in which Lieutenant
Costello was again severely wounded. But the fire of the troops was too
hot for anything to live in their front. At 2.30 the Mad Mullah being
wounded, another Mullah killed and several hundreds of tribesmen slain,
the whole attack collapsed. Nor was it renewed again with vigor. The
enemy recognised that their chance of taking the Malakand had passed.

The casualties were as follows on the night of the 29th:--

                        BRITISH OFFICERS.
      Wounded severely--Lieutenant E.W. Costello, 24th P.I., who had
                            already been severely wounded, but continued
                            to do duty.
         "       "       Lieutenant F.A. Wynter, R.A.

                        NATIVE RANKS.
      Killed......  1
      Wounded.....   17


All the next day the enemy could be seen dragging the dead away, and
carrying the wounded over the hills to their villages. Reinforcements,
however, joined them, and they renewed their attack, but without much
spirit, at 9.30 P.M. They were again repulsed with loss. Once, during
a thunderstorm that broke over the camp, they charged the 45th Sikhs'
position, and were driven off with the bayonet. Only two men were
wounded during the night.

In the morning the 38th Dogras and 35th Sikhs marched into the camp. The
enemy continued firing into the entrenchments at long range, but without
effect. They had evidently realised that the Malakand was too strong to
be taken. The troops had a quiet night, and the weary, worn-out men
got a little needed sleep. Thus the long and persistent attack on
the British frontier station of Malakand languished and ceased. The
tribesmen, sick of the slaughter at this point, concentrated their
energies on Chakdara, which they believed must fall into their hands.
To relieve this hard-pressed post now became the duty of the garrison of
Malakand.

The chapter, which may now appropriately end, has described in detail,
and, necessarily, at length, the defence of an outpost of our Empire. A
surprise, followed by a sustained attack, has been resisted. The enemy,
repulsed at every point, have abandoned the attempt, but surround and
closely watch the defences. The troops will now assume the offensive,
and the hour of reprisals will commence.

The casualties sustained by the Malakand garrison between 26th July and
1st August were as follows:--

        BRITISH OFFICERS KILLED AND DIED OF WOUNDS--3.
      Lieutenant-Colonel J. Lamb, 24th Punjaub Infantry.
      Major W.W. Taylor, 45th Sikhs.
      Lieutenant L. Manley, Commissariat.

                   WOUNDED--10.
      Major L. Herbert, D.A.A.G.
      Captain G. Baldwin, D.S.O., Guides Cavalry.
      Captain H.F. Holland, 24th Punjaub Infantry.
      Lieutenant F.A. Wynter, R.A.
          "      F.W. Watling, R.E.
          "      E.W. Costello, 24th Punjaub Infantry.
          "      H.B. Ford, 31st Punjaub Infantry.
          "      H.L.S. Maclean, Guides Cavalry.
      2nd Lieutenant G. Swinley, 31st Punjaub Infantry.
            "       C.V. Keyes, Guides Cavalry.

             NATIVE OFFICERS WOUNDED--7.

       TOTAL OFFICERS KILLED AND WOUNDED--20.

       BRITISH NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICER KILLED.
      Sergeant F. Byrne, R.E.

     NATIVE NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND PRIVATES.
                                           Killed.   Wounded.
  No.8 Bengal Mountain Battery . .     0          5
  11th Bengal Lancers     . . .     0          3
  No.5 Company Q.O. Sappers and Miners.     3         18
  24th Punjaub Infantry   . . .     3         14
  31st    "       "  . . . .    12         32
  38th Dogras   . . . . .     0          1
  45th Sikhs    . . . . .     4         28
  Q.O. Corps of Guides. . . .     3         27

  TOTAL NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND MEN KILLED AND WOUNDED--153.





CHAPTER V: THE RELIEF OF CHAKDARA



While the events described in the last chapter had been watched with
interest and attention in all parts of the world, they were the subject
of anxious consultation in the Council of the Governor-General. It was
only natural that the Viceroy, himself, should view with abhorrence the
prospect of military operations on a large scale, which must inevitably
lead to closer and more involved relations with the tribes of the
Afghan border. He belonged to that party in the State which has clung
passionately, vainly, and often unwisely to a policy of peace and
retrenchment. He was supported in his reluctance to embark on warlike
enterprises by the whole force of the economic situation. No moment
could have been less fitting: no man more disinclined. That Lord Elgin's
Viceroyalty and the Famine year should have been marked by the greatest
Frontier War in the history of the British Empire in India, vividly
displays how little an individual, however earnest his motives, however
great his authority, can really control the course of public affairs.

The Council were called upon to decide on matters, which at once raised
the widest and most intricate questions of frontier policy; which might
involve great expense; which might well influence the development and
progress of the great populations committed to their charge. It would
be desirable to consider such matters from the most lofty and commanding
standpoints; to reduce detail to its just proportions; to examine the
past, and to peer into the future. And yet, those who sought to look
thus on the whole situation, were immediately confronted with the
picture of the rock of Chakdara, fringed and dotted with the white smoke
of musketry, encircled by thousands of fierce assailants, its garrison
fighting for their lives, but confident they would not be deserted. It
was impossible to see further than this. All Governments, all Rulers,
meet the same difficulties. Wide considerations of principle, of policy,
of consequences or of economics are brushed aside by an impetuous
emergency. They have to decide off-hand. The statesman has to deal with
events. The historian, who has merely to record them, may amuse his
leisure by constructing policies, to explain instances of successful
opportunism.

On the 30th of July the following order was officially published: "The
Governor-General in Council sanctions the despatch of a force, to
be styled the Malakand Field Force, for the purpose of holding
the Malakand, and the adjacent posts, and of operating against the
neighbouring tribes as may be required."

The force was composed as follows:--

                              1st Brigade.
   Commanding--Colonel W.H. Meiklejohn, C.B., C.M.G., with the local
     rank of Brigadier-General.
          1st Battalion Royal West Kent Regiment.
          24th Punjaub Infantry.
          31st Punjaub Infantry.
          45th (Rattray's) Sikhs.
          Sections A and B of No.1 British Field Hospital.
          No.38 Native Field Hospital.
          Sections A and B of No.50 Native Field Hospital.

                              2nd Brigade.
   Commanding--Brigadier-General P.D. Jeffreys, C.B.
          1st Battalion East Kent Regiment (the Buffs).
          35th Sikhs.
          38th Dogras.
          Guides Infantry.
          Sections C and D of No.1 British Field Hospital.
          No.37 Native Field Hospital.
          Sections C and D of No.50 Native Field Hospital.

                              Divisional Troops.
          4 Squadrons 11th Bengal Lancers.
          1     "     10th   "       "
          2     "     Guides Cavalry.
          22nd Punjaub Infantry.
          2 Companies 21st Punjaub Infantry.
          10th Field Battery.
          6 Guns No.1 British Mountain Battery.
          6  "   No.7    "       "        "
          6  "   No.8 Bengal     "        "
          No.5 Company Madras Sappers and Miners.
          No.3    "    Bombay    "     "     "
          Section B of No.13 British Field Hospital.
          Sections A and B of No.35 Native Field Hospital.

                              Line of Communications.
          No.34 Native Field Hospital.
          Section B of No.1 Native Field Hospital.


[This complete division amounted to a total available field strength of
6800 bayonets, 700 lances or sabres, with 24 guns.]

The command of this powerful force was entrusted to Brigadier-General
Sir Bindon Blood, K.C.B., who was granted the local rank of
Major-General.

As this officer is the principal character in the tale I have to tell,
a digression is necessary to introduce him to the reader. Born of an old
Irish family, a clan that has been settled in the west of Ireland
for 300 years, and of which he is now the head, Sir Bindon Blood was
educated privately, and at the Indian Military College at Addiscombe,
and obtained a commission in the Royal Engineers in December, 1860. For
the first eleven years he was stationed in England, and it was not until
1871 that he proceeded to India, where he first saw active service in
the Jawaki Afridi Expedition (medal with clasp). In 1878 he returned
home, but the next year was ordered to the Zulu War. On the conclusion
of hostilities, for which he received a second medal and clasp, he again
sailed for India and served throughout the Afghan war of 1880, being for
some time with the troops at Cabul. In 1882 he accompanied the Army to
Egypt, and was with the Highland Brigade, which was the most severely
engaged at Tel-el-Kebir. He received the medal and clasp, Khedive's star
and the 3rd class of the Medjidie. After the campaign he went home for
two years, and in 1885 made another voyage to the East, over which the
Russian war-cloud was then hanging. Since then the general has served in
India, at first with the Sappers and Miners, with whose reorganisation
he was closely associated, and latterly in command of the Agra District.
In 1895 he was appointed Chief of the Staff to Sir Robert Low in the
Chitral Expedition, and was present at all the actions, including the
storming of the Malakand Pass. For his services he received a degree of
knighthood of the Military Order of the Bath and the Chitral medal and
clasp. He was now marked as a man for high command on the frontier at
the first opportunity. That opportunity the great rising of 1897 has
presented.

Thirty-seven years of soldering, of war in many lands, of sport of every
kind, have steeled alike muscle and nerve. Sir Bindon Blood, himself,
till warned by the march of time, a keen polo player, is one of those
few officers of high rank in the army, who recognise the advantages to
soldiers of that splendid game. He has pursued all kinds of wild animals
in varied jungles, has killed many pig with the spear and shot every
species of Indian game, including thirty tigers to his own rifle.

It would not be fitting for me, a subaltern of horse, to offer any
criticism, though eulogistic, on the commander under whom I have had the
honour to serve in the field. I shall content myself with saying, that
the general is one of that type of soldiers and administrators, which
the responsibilities and dangers of an Empire produce, a type, which has
not been, perhaps, possessed by any nation except the British, since the
days when the Senate and the Roman people sent their proconsuls to all
parts of the world.

Sir Bindon Blood was at Agra, when, on the evening of the 28th of July,
he received the telegram from the Adjutant-General in India, appointing
him to the command of the Malakand Field Force, and instructing him to
proceed at once to assume it. He started immediately, and on the
31st formally took command at Nowshera. At Mardan he halted to make
arrangements for the onward march of the troops. Here, at 3 A.M. on the
1st of August, he received a telegram from Army Headquarters informing
him, that Chakdara Fort was hard pressed, and directing him to hurry on
to Malakand, and attempt its relief at all costs. The great numbers of
the enemy, and the shortness of ammunition and supplies from which the
garrison were suffering, made the task difficult and the urgency great.
Indeed I have been told, that at Simla on the 1st of August it was
feared, that Chakdara was doomed, and that sufficient troops to fight
their way to its relief could not be concentrated in time. The greatest
anxiety prevailed. Sir Bindon Blood replied telegraphically that
"knowing the ground" as he did, he "felt serenely confident." He hurried
on at once, and, in spite of the disturbed state of the country, reached
the Malakand about noon on the 1st of August.

The desperate position of the garrison of Chaldara was fully appreciated
by their comrades at the Malakand. As the night of the 31st had been
comparatively quiet, Brigadier-General Meiklejohn determined to attempt
to force his way to their relief the next day. He accordingly formed a
column as follows:--

     45th Sikhs.
     24th Punjaub Infantry.
     No.5 Company Sappers and Miners.
     4 Guns of No.8 Mountain Battery.

At 11 A.M. he sent the cavalry, under Lieutenant-Colonel Adams of the
Guides, to make a dash for the Amandara Pass, and if it were unoccupied
to seize it. The three squadrons started by the short road to the north
camp. As soon as the enemy saw what was going on, they assembled in
great numbers to oppose the advance. The ground was most unsuitable
for cavalry. Great boulders strewed the surface. Frequent nullahs
intersected the plain, and cramped the action of the horsemen. The
squadrons soon became hotly engaged. The Guides made several charges.
The broken nature of the ground favoured the enemy. Many of them were,
however, speared or cut down. In one of these charges Lieutenant Keyes
was wounded. While he was attacking one tribesman, another came up from
behind, and struck him a heavy blow on the shoulder with a sword. Though
these Swatis keep their swords at razor edge, and though the blow was
sufficiently severe to render the officer's arm useless for some days,
it raised only a thin weal, as if from a cut of a whip. It was a strange
and almost an inexplicable escape.

The enemy in increasing numbers pressed upon the cavalry, who began to
get seriously involved. The tribesmen displayed the greatest boldness
and determination. At length Lieut.-Colonel Adams had to order a
retirement. It was none too soon. The tribesmen were already working
round the left flank and thus threatening the only line of retreat. The
squadrons fell back, covering each other by dismounted fire. The 24th
Punjaub Infantry protected their flank as they reached the camp. The
cavalry losses were as follows:--

                      BRITISH OFFICERS.
   Wounded severely--Captain G.M. Baldwin, the Guides.
      "    slightly--Lieutenant C.V. Keyes, the Guides.

                       NATIVE RANKS.
                                     Killed  Wounded
     11th Bengal Lancers....    0      3
     Horses........     1       4
     Guides Cavalry......   1      10
     Horses........     3      18

       Total casualties--16 men and 26 horses.

The vigorous resistance which the cavalry had encountered, and the great
numbers and confidence that the enemy had displayed, effectually put an
end to any idea of relieving Chakdara that day. The tribesmen were much
elated by their temporary success, and the garrison, worn and wearied
by the incessant strain, both mental and physical, were proportionately
cast down. Every one anticipated tremendous fighting on the next day.
Make the attempt, they must at all hazards. But there were not wanting
those who spoke of "forlorn hopes" and "last chances." Want of sleep and
rest had told on all ranks. For a week they had grappled with a savage
foe. They were the victors, but they were out of breath.

It was at this moment, that Sir Bindon Blood arrived and assumed the
command. He found General Meiklejohn busily engaged in organising a
force of all arms, which was to move to the relief of Chakdara on the
following day. As it was dangerous to denude the Malakand position of
troops, this force could not exceed 1000 rifles, the available cavalry
and four guns. Of these arrangements Sir Bindon Blood approved. He
relieved Brigadier-General Meiklejohn of the charge of the Malakand
position, and gave him the command of the relieving column. Colonel Reid
was then placed in command of Malakand, and instructed to strengthen the
pickets at Castle Rock, as far as possible, and to be ready with a force
taken from them, to clear the high ground on the right of the Graded
road. The relieving column was composed as follows:--

     400 Rifles 24th Punjaub Infantry.
     400   "    45th Sikhs.
     200   "    Guides Infantry.
     2 Squadrons 11th Bengal Lancers (under Lieut.-Col. R.B. Adams.)
     2     "     Guides Cavalry           "       "      "
     4 Guns No.8 Mountain Battery.
     50 Sappers of No.5 Company.
     Hospital details.

Sir Bindon Blood ordered General Meiklejohn to assemble this force
before dark near the centre of the camp at a grove of trees called
"Gretna Green," to bivouac there for the night, and to be ready to
start with the first light of morning. During the afternoon the enemy,
encouraged by their success with the cavalry in the morning, advanced
boldly to the pickets and the firing was continuous. So heavy indeed did
it become between eleven and twelve o'clock at night, that the force
at "Gretna Green" got under arms. But towards morning the tribesmen
retired.

The reader may, perhaps, have in his mind the description of the
Malakand as a great cup with jagged clefts in the rim. Much of this rim
was still held by the enemy. It was necessary for any force trying to
get out of the cup, to fight their way along the narrow roads through
the clefts, which were commanded by the heights on either side. For
a considerable distance it was impossible to deploy. Therein lay the
difficulty of the operation, which the General had now to perform. The
relieving column was exposed to the danger of being stopped, just as
Colonel McRae had stopped the first attack of the tribesmen along
the Buddhist road. On the 1st of August the cavalry had avoided these
difficulties by going down the road to the North camp, and making a
considerable detour. But they thus became involved in bad ground and had
to retire. The "Graded" road, if any, was the road by which Chakdara was
to be relieved. Looking at the tangled, rugged nature of the country,
it seems extraordinary to an untrained eye, that among so many peaks and
points, one should be of more importance than another. Yet it is so.
On the high ground, in front of the position that Colonel McRae and
the 45th Sikhs had held so well, was a prominent spur. This was the key
which would unlock the gate and set free the troops, who were cramped up
within. Every one realised afterwards how obvious this was and wondered
they had not thought of it before. Sir Bindon Blood selected the point
as the object of his first attack, and it was against this that he
directed Colonel Goldney with a force of about 300 men to move, as soon
as he should give the signal to advance.

At half-past four in the morning of the 2nd of August he proceeded to
"Gretna Green" and found the relieving column fallen in, and ready to
march at daybreak. All expected a severe action. Oppressed with
fatigue and sleeplessness, there were many who doubted that it would
be successful. But though tired, they were determined, and braced
themselves for a desperate struggle. The General-in-chief was, as he
had said, confident and serene. He summoned the different commanding
officers, explained his plans, and shook hands all round. It was a
moment of stern and high resolve. Slowly the first faint light of dawn
grew in the eastern sky. The brightness of the stars began to pale.
Behind the mountains was the promise of the sun. Then the word was given
to advance. Immediately the relieving column set off, four deep, down
the "Graded" road. Colonel Goldney simultaneously advanced to the attack
of the spur, which now bears his name, with 250 men of the 35th Sikhs
and 50 of the 38th Dogras. He moved silently towards the stone shelters,
that the tribesmen had erected on the crest. He got to within a hundred
yards unperceived. The enemy, surprised, opened an irregular and
ineffective fire. The Sikhs shouted and dashed forward. The ridge was
captured without loss of any kind. The enemy fled in disorder, leaving
seven dead and one prisoner on the ground.

Then the full significance of the movement was apparent alike to friend
and foe. The point now gained, commanded the whole of the "Graded"
road, right down to its junction with the road to the North camp. The
relieving column, moving down the road, were enabled to deploy without
loss or delay. The door was open. The enemy, utterly surprised and
dumfoundered by this manoeuvre, were seen running to and fro in the
greatest confusion: in the graphic words of Sir Bindon Blood's despatch,
"like ants in a disturbed ant-hill." At length they seemed to realise
the situation, and, descending from the high ground, took up a position
near Bedford Hill in General Meiklejohn's front, and opened a heavy fire
at close range. But the troops were now deployed and able to bring their
numbers to bear. Without wasting time in firing, they advanced with the
bayonet. The leading company of the Guides stormed the hill in their
front with a loss of two killed and six wounded. The rest of the troops
charged with even less loss. The enemy, thoroughly panic-stricken, began
to fly, literally by thousands, along the heights to the right. They
left seventy dead behind them. The troops, maddened by the remembrance
of their fatigues and sufferings, and inspired by the impulse of
victory, pursued them with a merciless vigour.

Sir Bindon Blood had with his staff ascended the Castle Rock, to
superintend the operations generally. From this position the whole field
was visible. On every side, and from every rock, the white figures of
the enemy could be seen in full flight. The way was open. The passage
was forced. Chakdara was saved. A great and brilliant success had been
obtained. A thrill of exultation convulsed every one. In that moment
the general, who watched the triumphant issue of his plans, must have
experienced as fine an emotion as is given to man on earth. In that
moment, we may imagine that the weary years of routine, the long ascent
of the lower grades of the service, the frequent subordination to
incompetence, the fatigues and dangers of five campaigns, received their
compensation. Perhaps, such is the contrariness of circumstances, there
was no time for the enjoyment of these reflections. The victory had been
gained. It remained to profit by it. The enemy would be compelled to
retire across the plain. There at last was the chance of the cavalry.
The four squadrons were hurried to the scene.

The 11th Bengal Lancers, forming line across the plain, began a
merciless pursuit up the valley. The Guides pushed on to seize the
Amandara Pass and relieve Chakdara. All among the rice fields and the
rocks, the strong horsemen hunted the flying enemy. No quarter was asked
or given, and every tribesman caught, was speared or cut down at once.
Their bodies lay thickly strewn about the fields, spotting with black
and green patches, the bright green of the rice crop. It was a terrible
lesson, and one which the inhabitants of Swat and Bajaur will never
forget. Since then their terror of Lancers has been extraordinary. A
few sowars have frequently been sufficient to drive a hundred of these
valiant savages in disorder to the hills, or prevent them descending
into the plain for hours.

Meanwhile the infantry had been advancing swiftly. The 45th Sikhs
stormed the fortified village of Batkhela near the Amandara Pass, which
the enemy held desperately. Lieut.-Colonel McRae, who had been relieved
from the command of the regiment by the arrival of Colonel Sawyer, was
the first man to enter the village. Eighty of the enemy were bayoneted
in Batkheka alone. It was a terrible reckoning.

I am anxious to finish with this scene of carnage. The spectator, who
may gaze unmoved on the bloodshed of the battle, must avert his eyes
from the horrors of the pursuit, unless, indeed, joining in it himself,
he flings all scruples to the winds, and, carried away by the impetus
of the moment, indulges to the full those deep-seated instincts of
savagery, over which civilisation has but cast a veil of doubtful
thickness.

The casualties in the relief of Chakdara were as follows:--

   11th Bengal Lancers--killed and died from wounds, 3; wounded,3.
                                         Killed. Wounded.
     Guides Infantry.......  2       7
     35th Sikhs......... 2       3
     45th Sikhs......... 0       7
     24th Punjaub Infantry..... 0       5
     No.8 Bengal Mountain Battery...  0       1
               Total Casualties--33

The news of the relief of Chakdara was received with feelings of
profound thankfulness throughout India. And in England, in the House of
Commons, when the Secretary of State read out the telegram, there were
few among the members who did not join in the cheers. Nor need we pay
much attention to those few.





CHAPTER VI: THE DEFENCE OF CHAKDARA


 ... That tower of strength
    Which stood four-square to all the winds that blew.

                                              TENNYSON.



The episode with which this chapter is concerned is one that has often
occurred on the out-post line of civilisation, and which is peculiarly
frequent in the history of a people whose widespread Empire is fringed
with savage tribes. A small band of soldiers or settlers, armed with the
resources of science, and strengthened by the cohesion of mutual
trust, are assailed in some isolated post, by thousands of warlike and
merciless enemies. Usually the courage and equipment of the garrison
enable them to hold out until a relieving force arrives, as at Rorke's
Drift, Fort Chitral, Chakdara or Gulistan. But sometimes the defenders
are overwhelmed, and, as at Saraghari or Khartoum, none are left to tell
the tale. There is something strangely terrible in the spectacle of men,
who fight--not for political or patriotic reasons, not for the sake of
duty or glory--but for dear life itself; not because they want to, but
because they have to. They hold the dykes of social progress against a
rising deluge of barbarism, which threatens every moment to overflow the
banks and drown them all. The situation is one which will make a coward
valorous, and affords to brave men opportunities for the most sublime
forms of heroism and devotion.

Chakdara holds the passage of the Swat River--a rapid, broad, and at
most seasons of the year an unfordable torrent. It is built on a rocky
knoll that rises abruptly from the plain about a hundred yards from
the mountains. Sketches and photographs usually show only the knoll
and buildings on it, and any one looking at them will be struck by the
picturesque and impregnable aspect of the little fort, without observing
that its proportions are dwarfed, and its defences commanded, by
the frowning cliffs, under which it stands. In its construction the
principles of defilade have been completely ignored. Standing on the
mountain ridge, occupied by the signal tower, it is possible to look or
fire right into the fort. Every open space is commanded. Every parapet
is exposed. Against an enemy unprovided with artillery, however,
it could be held indefinitely; but the fact that all interior
communications are open to fire, makes its defence painful to the
garrison, and might, by gradually weakening their numbers, lead to its
capture.

The narrow, swinging, wire bridge across the Swat is nearly 500 yards
long. At the southern end it is closed by a massive iron door, loopholed
for musketry, and flanked by two stone towers, in one of which a Maxim
gun is mounted. On the further side is the fort itself, which consists
of the fortified knoll, a strong stone horn-work, an enclosure for
horses, protected by a loopholed wall and much tangled barbed wire, and
the signal tower, a detached post 200 yards up the cliff.

The garrison of the place consisted at the time of the outbreak of
twenty sowars of the 11th Bengal Lancers and two strong companies of the
45th Sikhs, in all about 200 men, under the command of Lieutenant H.B.
Rattray. [The actual strength was as follows: 11th Bengal Lancers, 20
sabres; 45th Sikhs, 180 rifles; 2 British telegraphists; 1 Hospital
Havildar; 1 Provost Naick (24th Punjaub Infantry); 1 Jemadar (Dir
Levies). British officers--45th Sikhs, Lieutenants Rattray and Wheatley;
Surgeon-Captain V. Hugo; Political Agent, Lieutenant Minchin.] As the
rumours of an impending rising grew stronger and stronger, and the end
of July approached, this officer practised his men in taking stations
in the event of an alarm, and made such preparations as he thought
necessary for eventualities. On the 23rd he received an official warning
from the D.A.A.G. [Deputy-Assistant-Adjutant-General. Surely
this astounding title, with that of the
Deputy-Assistant-Quarter-Master-General, might be replaced with
advantage by the more sensible and appropriate terms "Brigade Adjutant"
and "Brigade Quartermaster"!], Major Herbert, that a tribal rising was
"possible but not probable." Every precaution was henceforth taken in
the fort. On the 26th, a Sepoy, who was out sketching, hurried in with
the news that a large body of tribesmen were advancing down the valley,
and that he himself had been robbed of his compass, his field-glasses
and some money.

But, in spite of the disturbed and threatening situation, the British
officers of the Malakand garrison, though they took all military
precautions for the defence of their posts, did not abandon their
practice of riding freely about the valley, armed only with revolvers.
Nor did they cease from their amusements. On the evening of the 26th,
Lieutenant Rattray went over to Khar as usual to play polo. Just as the
game was ended, he received a letter, brought in haste by two sowars,
from Lieutenant Wheatley, the other subaltern at Chakdara, warning him
that a great number of Pathans with flags were advancing on the fort.
He at once galloped back at full speed, passing close to one large
gathering of tribesmen, who for some reason of their own took no notice
of him, and so reached the fort in safety, and just in time. Formidable
masses of men were then closing in on it. He telegraphed to the staff
officer at the Malakand reporting the impending attack. Immediately
afterwards the wire was cut by the enemy and the little garrison got
under arms.

A havildar of the Khan of Dir's Levies had promised the political
agent to give warning of any actual assault, by lighting a fire on the
opposite hills. At 10.15 a solitary flame shot up. It was the signal.
The alarm was sounded. The garrison went to their posts. For a space
there was silence, and then out of the darkness began a fusillade, which
did not stop until the 2nd of August. Immediately the figures of the
tribesmen, as they advanced to the attack on the western face of the
fort, became visible. The defenders opened fire with effect. The
enemy pressed on vigorously. Their losses were severe. At length they
retreated repulsed.

A second attack was immediately delivered against the north-east corner
and again beaten off by the garrison. At 4 A.M. a third assault was made
upon the cavalry enclosure. The tribesmen, carrying scaling ladders,
advanced with great determination. They were received with a deadly
fire. They then drew off, and the first night of the siege was
terminated by desultory firing. The garrison remained at their posts all
night, and when it became day the enemy were seen to have retired, to
the hills to the north-west, whence they maintained a ceaseless fire.
Although the defenders were protected by their stone walls, many had
strange escapes from the bullets, which fell incessantly into the
interior.

Meanwhile, in spite of the vigorous attack that was being made on the
Malakand, it had been decided to send some assistance to the little band
at Chakdara. Captain Wright and forty sowars of the 11th Bengal Lancers
with Captain Baker of the 2nd Bombay Grenadiers and transport officer
at the Malakand, started at dawn on the 27th, by the road from the north
camp. Before they had gone very far they came under the fire of the
enemy on the hills. These did not dare to venture into the plain, but
availed themselves of the broken nature of the country. As the squadron
reached the road leading to the polo ground, Captain Wright received
information that the enemy were collected on the plain and immediately
the pace was quickened in the hopes of a charge being possible. But the
tribesmen ran to the hills at the sight of the Lancers, and maintained
a constant, though luckily, an ill-aimed fire. At length the village
of Batkhela was reached, and beyond it the Amandara Pass came in sight.
This is a gap in a long spur, which runs from the southern side of the
valley to the rapid river in the middle. As the river was then in full
flood and unfordable, the only road to Chakdara lay over or through the
spur. But the pass was held by the enemy.

Captain Wright had by this time realised, what probably no one at the
Malakand then knew, that the enemy's numbers were enormous. The whole
way from Malakand to Amandara--every ridge and hill was crowned with
their banners. Wherever the ground protected them from the horsemen
they gathered thickly. Cemeteries [Cemeteries are frequent and prominent
features of Frontier landscapes. Some of them are of great extent: all
of remarkable sanctity.], nullahs and villages swarmed with men. Their
figures could be seen in all directions. Far beyond the Amandara Pass
bands of tribesmen, of varying strengths, could be observed hurrying
with their standards to the attack. But these formidable signs, far from
deterring the cavalry soldier, only added, by displaying how great was
the need of Chakdara, to his determination to force his way through at
all costs.

Under a dropping fire from the cemetery on the right of the road, a
brief consultation was held. The Amandara defile was occupied on both
sides by the enemy. With the loss of perhaps a dozen men the squadron
might gallop through. But this meant leaving all who fell, to perish
miserably, by torture and mutilation. To attempt to pick up the wounded,
would lead to the annihilation of the squadron. Any alternative was
preferable, though if there were no other way, the dash would have to be
made, and the wounded left. A Sowar now said there was a path round the
rock by the bank of the river. Captain Wright determined to take it.

The path was bad. After about half the spur had been passed, it ended
abruptly in a steep white rock. It was, in fact, a path leading to a
point where the natives were in the habit of floating across the river
upon "mussucks" (inflated skins). To go back now was to fail. Without
hesitation, the horsemen turned to the right up the hill and among the
rocks, trusting to get through somehow. After passing over ground which
would be difficult to move across on foot, they saw a gorge to their
left which appeared as if it would lead to the open plain, on the other
side of the ridge. Down this gorge forty horses huddled together, with
no room to pick their way, were scrambling and jumping from rock to
rock, apparently as conscious as their riders that their lives depended
on their cleverness--when, suddenly, the enemy appeared.

As soon as the tribesmen, who were holding the pass, saw the squadron
trot off to their right towards the river, they realised that they
intended to make a desperate effort to get through to Chakdara. They
knew what the ground was like, and confident they would kill them all,
if they could get there soon enough, ran swiftly along the spur. It was
a race. The leading tribesmen arrived in time to fire on the cavalry,
while they were in the gorge. So close were they, that the officers
used their revolvers. But the Pathans were out of breath and shot badly.
Several horses were hit, including Captain Wright's, but though the
large thigh bone was penetrated, the gallant beast held on, and carried
his rider to Chakdara safely.

By the extraordinary activity of the horses the rocks were cleared
before the enemy could collect in any strength. But, to the dismay of
all, the gorge was found to lead, not to the plain, but to a branch of
the river. A broad, swift channel of water of unknown depth confronted
the cavalry. To go back was now, however, out of the question. They
plunged in. The 11th Bengal Lancers are perhaps better mounted than any
native cavalry regiment in India. Their strong horses just held their
own against the current. Several were nearly swept away. Captain
Wright was the last to cross. All this time the enemy were firing and
approaching. At length the passage was made and the squadron collected
on an island of flooded rice fields, in which the horses sank up to
their hocks. Beyond this ran another arm of the river about fifty yards
wide, and apparently almost as deep as the first. The bullets of the
enemy made "watery flashes" on all sides. After passing this second
torrent the squadron found themselves again on the same bank of
the river as the enemy. They were in swampy ground. Captain Wright
dismounted his men and returned the fire. Then he turned back himself,
and riding into the stream again, rescued the hospital assistant, whose
pony, smaller than the other horses, was being carried off its legs by
the force of the water. After this the march was resumed. The squadron
kept in the heavy ground, struggling along painfully. The enemy, running
along the edge of the rice fields, maintained a continual fire, kneeling
down to take good aim. A sowar threw up his hands and fell, shot through
the back. Several more horses were hit. Then another man reeled in his
saddle and collapsed on the ground. A halt was made. Dismounted fire was
opened upon the enemy. The wounded were picked up, and by slow degrees
Chakdara was approached, when the Bridgehead Maxim gun compelled the
tribesmen to draw off. [For the particulars of this affair I am indebted
to Captain Baker, 2nd Bombay Grenadiers, who shared its perils.]

Thus the garrison of the fort received a needed reinforcement. I have
given a somewhat long description of this gallant ride, because it shows
that there are few obstacles that can stop brave men and good horses.
Captain Wright now assumed command of Chakdara, but the direction of
the defense he still confided to Lieutenant Rattray, as fighting behind
walls is a phase of warfare with which the cavalry soldier is little
acquainted.

At 11.30, in the heat of the day the tribesmen attacked again. They
surrounded the north and east sides of the fort, and made strenuous
efforts to get in. They suffered heavy losses from the musketry of the
defence, and their dead lay scattered thickly on the approaches. Nor
were they removed till nightfall. Many Ghazis, mad with fanaticism,
pressed on carrying standards, heedless of the fire, until they fell
riddled with bullets under the very walls.

To communicate with the Malakand was now almost impossible. To
heliograph, it was necessary that the operator should be exposed to a
terrible fire. In the evening the signal tower was surrounded by men
in stone sungars, who kept up an incessant fusillade, and made all
exposure, even for an instant, perilous.

At midday, after the repulse of the main attack, the guard of the signal
tower was reinforced by six men, and food and water were also sent up.
This difficult operation was protected by the fire of both the Maxims,
and of all the garrison who could be spared from other points. Until the
1st of August, water was sent up daily to the signal tower in this
way. The distance was long and the road steep. The enemy's fire was
persistent. Looking at the ground it seems wonderful that supplies could
have been got through at all.

As night approached, the defenders prepared to meet a fresh attack.
Lieutenant Wheatley, observing the points behind which the enemy usually
assembled, trained the fort Maxim and the 9-pounder gun on them, while
daylight lasted. At 11 P.M. the tribesmen advanced with shouts, yells
and the beating of drums. The gun and the Maxims were fired, and it is
said that no fewer than seventy men perished by the single discharge.
At any rate the assault was delayed for an hour and a half. All day long
the garrison had remained at their posts. It was hoped they would
now get a little rest. But at 1 o'clock the attack was renewed on
the north-east corner. Again the enemy brought up scaling ladders and
charged with desperate ferocity. They were shot down.

Meanwhile every spare moment was devoted to improving the cover of the
garrison. Captain Baker applied himself to this task, and used every
expedient. Logs, sand bags, stones, boxes filled with earth were piled
upon the walls. It is due to these precautions that the loss of life was
no larger.

Continuous firing occupied the 28th, and at 5.30 P.M. the enemy again
assaulted. As in previous attacks, they at first advanced by twos and
threes, making little dashes over the open ground, for bits of natural
cover, and for the stone sungars they had built all round the fort under
cover of darkness. Some of these were within 200 yards of the wall. As
they advanced the fire became intense. Then the main rush was delivered.
In a great semi-circle round the face of the fort held by the
cavalry, and displaying nearly 200 standards whose gay colours were
representative of every tribe on the border, they charged right up to
the walls. Some of them actually got across the tangled barbed wire and
were destroyed in the enclosure. But all efforts were defeated by the
garrison, and towards morning the attack melted away, and only the usual
sharpshooters remained. Some of these displayed a singular recklessness.
One man climbed up into the barbed wire and fired three shots at the
defenders at close quarters before he was killed.

Thursday morning dawned on similar scenes. The garrison employed such
intervals as occurred in strengthening their defences and improving
their cover, particularly in the approaches to the Maxim and field
gun platforms. At 3 P.M. the enemy came out of Chakdara village, and,
carrying ladders to scale the walls, and bundles of grass to throw on
the barbed wire, made a formidable effort. They directed the attack
mainly against the signal station. This building is a strong, square,
stone tower. Its entrance is above six feet from the ground. All around
the top runs a machiconlis gallery, a kind of narrow balcony, with holes
in the floor to fire through. It is well provided with loopholes. At
4 o'clock it was closely assailed. The garrison of the fort aided the
tower guard by their fire. So bold were the enemy in their efforts, that
they rushed in under the musketry of the defence, and lighted a great
heap of grass about three yards from the doorway. The flames sprang
up. A howl of ferocious delight arose. But the tribesmen relapsed into
silence, when they saw that no real harm was done. At sunset the
fore sight of the fort Maxim was shot away, and the defenders were
temporarily deprived of the service of that powerful weapon. They soon
managed, however, to rig up a makeshift, which answered all practical
purposes. At 8 P.M. the enemy wearied of the struggle, and the firing
died away to desultory skirmishing. They toiled all night carrying away
their dead, but next morning over fifty bodies were still lying around
the signal tower. Their losses had been enormous.

The morning of the 30th brought no cessation of the fighting, but the
enemy, disheartened by their losses of the previous night, did not
attack until 7 P.M. At that hour they advanced and made a fresh effort.
They were again repulsed. Perhaps the reader is tired of the long
recital of the monotonous succession of assaults and repulses. What
must the garrison have been by the reality? Until this day--when they
snatched a few hours' sleep--they had been continually fighting and
watching for ninety-six hours. Like men in a leaking ship, who toil at
the pumps ceaselessly and find their fatigues increasing and the ship
sinking hour by hour, they cast anxious, weary eyes in the direction
whence help might be expected. But none came. And there are worse deaths
than by drowning.

Men fell asleep at the loopholes and at the service of the field gun.
Even during the progress of the attacks, insulted nature asserted
itself, and the soldiers drifted away from the roar of the musketry,
and the savage figures of the enemy, to the peaceful unconsciousness
of utter exhaustion. The officers, haggard but tireless, aroused them
frequently.

At other times the brave Sepoys would despair. The fort was ringed with
the enemy. The Malakand, too, was assailed. Perhaps it was the same
elsewhere. The whole British Raj seemed passing away in a single
cataclysm. The officers encouraged them. The Government of the
Queen-Empress would never desert them. If they could hold out, they
would be relieved. If not, they would be avenged. Trust in the young
white men who led them, and perhaps some dim half-idolatrous faith in a
mysterious Sovereign across the seas, whose soldiers they were, and
who would surely protect them, restored their fainting strength. The
fighting continued.

During the whole time of the siege the difficulty of maintaining
signalling communication with the Malakand was extreme. But for the
heroism of the signallers, it would have been insuperable. One man in
particular, Sepoy Prem Singh, used every day at the risk of his life to
come out through a porthole of the tower, establish his heliograph, and,
under a terrible fire from short range, flash urgent messages to
the main force. The extreme danger, the delicacy of the operation of
obtaining connection with a helio, the time consumed, the composure
required, these things combined to make the action as brave as any which
these or other pages record. [A proposal has recently been made, to give
the Victoria Cross to native soldiers who shall deserve it. It would
seem that the value of such a decoration must be enhanced by making it
open to all British subjects. The keener the competition, the greater
the honor of success. In sport, in courage, and in the sight of heaven,
all men meet on equal terms.] Early on Saturday morning a supply of
water was sent to the guard of the signal tower. It was the last they
got until 4.30 on Monday afternoon.

When the attack on the fort began, the enemy numbered perhaps 1500 men.
Since then they had been increasing every day, until on the 1st and
2nd, they are estimated to have been between 12,000 and 14,000 strong.
Matters now began to assume a still graver aspect. At 5 o'clock on the
evening of the 31st a renewed attack was made in tremendous force on
the east side of the fort. But it was beaten back with great loss by
the Maxims and the field gun. All night long the firing continued, and
Sunday morning displayed the enemy in far larger numbers than hitherto.
They now captured the Civil Hospital, a detached building, the walls
of which they loopholed, and from which they maintained a galling fire.
They also occupied the ridge, leading to the signal tower, thus cutting
off all communication with its guard. No water reached those unfortunate
men that day. The weather was intensely hot. The fire from the ridge
made all interior communication difficult and dangerous. The enemy
appeared armed to a great extent with Martini-Henry rifles and Sniders,
and their musketry was most harassing. The party in the tower kept
sending by signal pressing requests for water, which could not be
supplied. The situation became critical. I quote the simple words of
Lieutenant Rattray's official report:--

"Matters now looked so serious that we decided to send an urgent appeal
for help, but owing to the difficulty and danger of signalling we
could not send a long message, and made it as short as possible, merely
sending the two words, 'Help us.'"

Still the garrison displayed a determined aspect, and though the
tribesmen occupied the ridge, the Civil Hospital and an adjoining
nullah, none set foot within the defences.

At length the last day of the struggle came. At daybreak the enemy in
tremendous numbers came on to the assault, as if resolute to take the
place at any cost. They carried scaling ladders and bundles of grass.
The firing became intense. In spite of the cover of the garrison several
men were killed and wounded by the hail of bullets which was directed
against the fort, and which splashed and scarred the walls in every
direction.

Then suddenly, as matters were approaching a crisis, the cavalry of the
relieving column appeared over the Amandara ridge. The strong horsemen
mercilessly pursued and cut down all who opposed them. When they reached
the Bridgehead on the side of the river remote from the fort, the
enemy began to turn and run. The garrison had held out stubbornly
and desperately throughout the siege. Now that relief was at hand,
Lieutenant Rattray flung open the gate, and followed by half a dozen
men charged the Civil Hospital. Captain Baker and Lieutenant Wheatley
followed with a few more. The hospital was recaptured. The enemy
occupying it, some thirty in number, were bayoneted. It was a finish in
style. Returning, the sallying party found the cavalry--the 11th Bengal
Lancers--checked by a sungar full of tribesmen. This they charged in
flank, killing most of its occupants, and driving the rest after
their comrades in rout and ruin. The last man to leave the sungar shot
Lieutenant Rattray in the neck, but that officer, as distinguished for
physical prowess as for military conduct, cut him down. This ended the
fighting. It is not possible to think of a more fitting conclusion.

The casualties in the siege were as follows:--

                     Killed  Wounded
     11th B.L......   1       1
     45th Sikhs.....   4      10
     Dir Levies.....    1       0
     Followers.....    1       2
            Total, all ranks--20


This was the loss; but every man in the fort had held death at arm's
length, for seven nights, and seven days.

It is a significant fact, that, though the cavalry horses were exposed
to the enemy's fire the whole time, hardly any were killed or wounded.
The tribesmen, feeling sure that the place was theirs, and hoping that
these fine beasts would fall unto their hands alive, had abstained from
shooting them.

As far as could be ascertained by careful official inquiries the enemy
lost over 2000 men in the attack upon Chakdara.

[The following statistics as to the expenditure of ammunition may be of
interest:--

                               Rounds.
     28th July.  Maxim......  843
        "        Martini-Henry... 7170
     29th July.  Maxim......  667
        "        Martini-Henry... 4020
     30th July.  Maxim...... 1200
        "        Martini-Henry... 5530
     31st July.  Maxim......  180
        "        Martini-Henry... 2700

This is approximately twenty rounds per man per diem. The fire control
must have been excellent.]





CHAPTER VII: THE GATE OF SWAT



The Malakand Pass gives access to the valley of the Swat, a long and
wide trough running east and west, among the mountains. Six miles
further to the east, at Chakdara, the valley bifurcates. One branch runs
northward towards Uch, and, turning again to the west, ultimately leads
to the Panjkora River and beyond to the great valley of Nawagai. For
some distance along this branch lies the road to Chitral, and along it
the Malakand Field Force will presently advance against the Mohmands.
The other branch prolongs the valley to the eastward. A few miles beyond
Chakdara a long spur, jutting from the southern mountains, blocks the
valley. Round its base the river has cut a channel. The road passes
along a narrow stone causeway between the river and the spur. Here is
the Landakai position, or as the tribesmen have for centuries called
it, the "Gate of Swat." Beyond this gate is Upper Swat, the ancient,
beautiful and mysterious "Udyana." This chapter will describe the
forcing of the gate and the expedition to the head of the valley.

The severe fighting at the Malakand and Chakdara had shown how
formidable was the combination, which had been raised against the
British among the hill tribes. The most distant and solitary valleys,
the most remote villages, had sent their armed men to join in the
destruction of the infidels. All the Banjaur tribes had been well
represented in the enemy's ranks. The Bunerwals and the Utman Khels had
risen to a man. All Swat had been involved. Instead of the two or three
thousand men that had been estimated as the extreme number, who would
follow the Mad Fakir, it was now known that over 12,000 were in arms.
In consequence of the serious aspect which the military and political
situation had assumed, it was decided to mobilise a 3rd and Reserve
Brigade composed as follows:--

                         3rd Brigade.
   Commanding--Brigadier-General J.H. Wodehouse, C.B., C.M.G.
     2nd Battalion Highland Light Infantry.
     1st    "      Gordon Highlanders.
     21st Punjaub Infantry.
     2nd  Battalion 1st Gurkhas.
     No. 3 Company Bombay Sappers and Miners.
      " 14 British Field Hospital.
      " 45 Native    "     "
      " 1 Field Medical Depot.

The fighting of the preceding fortnight had left significant and
terrible marks on the once smiling landscape. The rice crops were
trampled down in all directions. The ruins of the villages which had
been burned looked from a distance like blots of ink. The fearful losses
which the enemy had sustained, had made an appreciable diminution,
not of an army, but of a population. In the attacks upon the Malakand
position, about 700 tribesmen had perished. In the siege of Chakdara,
where the open ground had afforded opportunity to the modern weapons
and Maxim guns, over 2000 had been killed and wounded. Many others had
fallen in the relief of Chakdara and in the cavalry pursuit. For days
their bodies lay scattered about the country. In the standing crops, in
the ruins of villages, and among the rocks, festering bodies lay in the
blazing sun, filling the valley with a dreadful smell. To devour these
great numbers of vultures quickly assembled and disputed the abundant
prey with the odious lizards, which I have mentioned in an earlier
chapter, and which emerged from holes and corners to attack the corpses.
Although every consideration of decency and health stimulated the energy
of the victors in interring the bodies of their enemies, it was
some days before this task could be accomplished, and even then, in
out-of-the-way places, there remained a good many that had escaped the
burying parties.

Meanwhile the punishment that the tribesmen of the Swat Valley had
received, and their heavy losses, had broken the spirit of many, and
several deputations came to make their submission. The Lower Swatis
surrendered unconditionally, and were allowed to return to their
villages. Of this permission they at once availed themselves, and their
figures could be seen moving about their ruined homes and endeavouring
to repair the damage. Others sat by the roadside and watched in sullen
despair the steady accumulation of troops in their valley, which had
been the only result of their appeal to arms.

It is no exaggeration to say, that perhaps half the tribesmen who
attacked the Malakand, had thought that the soldiers there, were the
only troops that the Sirkar [The Government] possessed. "Kill these,"
they said, "and all is done." What did they know of the distant
regiments which the telegraph wires were drawing, from far down in the
south of India? Little did they realise they had set the world humming;
that military officers were hurrying 7000 miles by sea and land from
England, to the camps among the mountains; that long trains were
carrying ammunition, material and supplies from distant depots to the
front; that astute financiers were considering in what degree their
action had affected the ratio between silver and gold, or that sharp
politicians were wondering how the outbreak in Swat might be made to
influence the impending bye-elections. These ignorant tribesmen had no
conception of the sensitiveness of modern civilisation, which thrills
and quivers in every part of its vast and complex system at the
slightest touch.

They only saw the forts and camps on the Malakand Pass and the swinging
bridge across the river.

While the people of Lower Swat, deserted by the Mad Mullah, and
confronted with the two brigades, were completely humbled and subdued,
the Upper Swatis, encouraged by their priests, and, as they believed,
safe behind their "gate," assumed a much more independent air. They sent
to inquire what terms the Government would offer, and said they would
consider the matter. Their contumacious attitude, induced the political
officers to recommend the movement of troops through their country, to
impress them with the determination and power of the Sirkar.

The expedition into the Upper Swat Valley was accordingly sanctioned,
and Sir Bindon Blood began making the necessary preparations for the
advance. The prospects of further fighting were eagerly welcomed by the
troops, and especially by those who had arrived too late for the relief
of Chakdara, and had had thus far, only long and dusty marches to
perform. There was much speculation and excitement as to what units
would be selected, every one asserting that his regiment was sure to go;
that it was their turn; and that if they were not taken it would be a
great shame.

Sir Bindon Blood had however already decided. He had concentrated a
considerable force at Amandara in view of a possible advance, and as
soon as the movement was sanctioned organised the column as follows:--

                      1st Brigade.
     Commanding--Brigadier-General Meiklejohn.
       Royal West Kent Regiment.
       24th Punjaub Infantry.
       31st    "       "
       45th Sikhs

     With the following divisional troops:--
       10th Field Battery.
       No.7 British Mountain Battery.
       "  8 Bengal     "       "
       "  5 Company Madras Sappers and Miners.
       2 Squadrons Guides Cavalry.
       4    "      11th Bengal Lancers.

This force amounted to an available fighting strength of 3500 rifles and
sabres, with eighteen guns. Supplies for twelve days were carried, and
the troops proceeded on "the 80 lb. scale" of baggage, which means, that
they did not take tents, and a few other comforts and conveniences.

Before the force started, a sad event occurred. On the 12th of August,
Lieut.-Colonel J. Lamb, who had been wounded on the night of the 26th of
July, died. An early amputation might have saved his life; but this
was postponed in the expectation that the Rontgen Rays would enable the
bullet to be extracted. The Rays arrived from India after some delay.
When they reached Malakand, the experiment was at once made. It was
found, however, that the apparatus had been damaged in coming up, and no
result was obtained. Meanwhile mortification had set in, and the gallant
soldier died on the Sunday, from the effects of an amputation which he
was then too weak to stand. His thigh bone had been completely shattered
by the bullet. He had seen service in Afghanistan and the Zhob Valley
and had been twice mentioned in despatches.

On the 14th Sir Bindon Blood joined the special force, and moved it on
the 16th to Thana, a few miles further up the valley. At the same time
he ordered Brigadier-General Wodehouse to detach a small column in the
direction of the southern passes of Buner. The Highland Light Infantry,
No.3 Company Bombay Sappers and Miners, and one squadron of the 10th
Bengal Lancers accordingly marched from Mardan, where the 3rd Brigade
then was, to Rustum. By this move they threatened the Bunerwals and
distracted their attention from the Upper Swat Valley. Having thus
weakened the enemy, Sir Bindon Blood proceeded to force the "Gate of
Swat."

On the evening of the 16th, a reconnaissance by the 11th Bengal Lancers,
under Major Beatson, revealed the fact, that the Landakai position was
strongly held by the enemy. Many standards were displayed, and on
the approach of the cavalry, shots were fired all along the line. The
squadron retired at once, and reported the state of affairs. The general
decided to attack at day-break.

At 6.30 A.M. on the 17th, the cavalry moved off, and soon came in
contact with the tribesmen in some Buddhist ruins near a village, called
Jalala. A skirmish ensued. Meanwhile the infantry were approaching. The
main position of the enemy was displayed. All along the crest of the
spur of Landakai could be seen a fringe of standards, dark against
the sky. Beneath them the sword blades of the tribesmen glinted in the
sunlight. A long line of stone sungars crowned the ridge, and behind the
enemy clustered thickly. It is estimated that over 5000 were present.

It is not difficult to realise what a strong position this was. On the
left of the troops was an unfordable river. On their right the mountains
rose steeply. In front was the long ridge held by the enemy. The only
road up the valley was along the causeway, between the ridge and the
river. To advance further, it was necessary to dislodge the enemy from
the ridge. Sir Bindon Blood rode forward, reconnoitered the ground, and
made his dispositions.

To capture the position by a frontal attack would involve heavy loss.
The enemy were strongly posted, and the troops would be exposed to a
heavy fire in advancing. On the other hand, if the ridge could once be
captured, the destruction of the tribesmen was assured. Their position
was good, only as long as they held it. The moment of defeat would be
the moment of ruin. The reason was this. The ground behind the ridge
was occupied by swampy rice fields, and the enemy could only retire very
slowly over it. Their safe line of retreat lay up the spur, and on to
the main line of hills. They were thus formed with their line of retreat
in prolongation of their front. This is, of course, tactically one of
the worst situations that people can get into.

Sir Bindon Blood, who knew what the ground behind the ridge was like,
perceived at once how matters stood, and made his plans accordingly. He
determined to strike at the enemy's left, thus not only turning their
flank, but cutting off their proper line of retreat. If once his troops
held the point, where the long ridge ran into the main hills, all the
tribesmen who had remained on the ridge would be caught. He accordingly
issued orders as follows:--

The Royal West Kent were to mask the front and occupy the attention
of the enemy. The rest of the infantry, viz., 24th and 31st Punjaub
Infantry and the 45th Sikhs, were to ascend the hills to the right, and
deliver a flank attack on the head of the ridge. The cavalry were to be
held in readiness to dash forward along the causeway--to repair which a
company of sappers was posted--as soon as the enemy were driven off the
ridge which commanded it, and pursue them across the rice fields into
the open country beyond. The whole of the powerful artillery was to come
into action at once.

The troops then advanced. The Royal West Kent Regiment began the fight,
by driving some of the enemy from the Buddhist ruins on a small spur in
advance of the main position. The 10th Field Battery had been left
in rear in case the guns might stick in the narrow roads near Thana
village. It had, however, arrived safely, and now trotted up, and at
8.50 A.M. opened fire on the enemy's position and at a stone fort, which
they occupied strongly. A few minutes later No.7 Mountain Battery came
into action from the spur, which the Royal West Kent had taken. A heavy
artillery fire thus prepared the way for the attack. The great shells
of the Field Artillery astounded the tribesmen, who had never before
witnessed the explosion of a twelve-pound projectile. The two mountain
batteries added to their discomfiture. Many fled during the first
quarter of an hour of the bombardment. All the rest took cover on the
reverse slope and behind their sungars.

Meanwhile the flank attack was developing. General Meiklejohn and
his infantry were climbing up the steep hillside, and moving steadily
towards the junction of the ridge with the main hill. At length the
tribesmen on the spur perceived the danger that was threatening them.
They felt the grip on their line of retreat. They had imagined that the
white troops would try and force their path along the causeway, and had
massed considerable reserves at the lower end of the ridge. All these
now realised that they were in great danger of being cut off. They
were on a peninsula, as it were, while the soldiers were securing the
isthmus. They accordingly began streaming along the ridge towards the
left, at first with an idea of meeting the flank attack, but afterwards,
as the shell fire grew hotter, and the musketry increased, only in the
hope of retreat. Owing to the great speed with which the mountaineers
move about the hills, most of them were able to escape before the flank
attack could cut them off. Many however, were shot down as they fled,
or were killed by the artillery fire. A few brave men charged the 31st
Punjaub Infantry, but were all destroyed.

Seeing the enemy in full flight, Sir Bindon Blood ordered the Royal West
Kent to advance against the front of the now almost deserted ridge. The
British infantry hurrying forward climbed the steep hill and captured
the stone sungars. From this position they established touch with the
flank attack, and the whole force pursued the flying tribesmen with
long-range fire.

The "Gate of Swat" had been forced. It was now possible for troops to
advance along the causeway. This had, however, been broken in various
places by the enemy. The sappers and miners hastened forward to
repair it. While this was being done, the cavalry had to wait in mad
impatience, knowing that their chance lay in the plains beyond. As soon
as the road was sufficiently repaired to allow them to pass in single
file, they began struggling along it, and emerged at the other end of
the causeway in twos and threes.

An incident now ensued, which, though it afforded an opportunity for a
splendid act of courage, yet involved an unnecessary loss of life,
and must be called disastrous. As the cavalry got clear of the broken
ground, the leading horsemen saw the tribesmen swiftly running towards
the hills, about a mile distant. Carried away by the excitement of
the pursuit, and despising the enemy for their slight resistance, they
dashed impetuously forward in the hope of catching them before they
could reach the hills.

Lieutenant-Colonel Adams, on entering the plain, saw at once that if he
could seize a small clump of trees near a cemetery, he would be able to
bring effective dismounted fire to bear on the retreating tribesmen.
He therefore collected as many men as possible, and with Lieutenant
Maclean, and Lord Fincastle, the Times correspondent, rode in the
direction of these points. Meanwhile Captain Palmer, who commanded the
leading squadron, and Lieutenant Greaves of the Lancashire Fusiliers,
who was acting war correspondent of the Times of India, galloped across
the rice fields after the enemy. The squadron, unable to keep up,
straggled out in a long string, in the swampy ground.

At the foot of the hills the ground was firmer, and reaching this, the
two officers recklessly dashed in among the enemy. It is the spirit that
loses the Empire many lives, but has gained it many battles. But the
tribesmen, who had been outmanoeuvred rather than outfought, turned
savagely on their pursuers. The whole scene was witnessed by the troops
on the ridge. Captain Palmer cut down a standard-bearer. Another man
attacked him. Raising his arm for a fresh stroke, his wrist was smashed
by a bullet. Another killed his horse. Lieutenant Greaves, shot through
the body, fell at the same moment to the ground. The enemy closed around
and began hacking him, as he lay, with their swords. Captain Palmer
tried to draw his revolver. At this moment two sowars got clear of
the swampy rice fields, and at once galloped, shouting, to the rescue,
cutting and slashing at the tribesmen. All would have been cut to pieces
or shot down. The hillside was covered with the enemy. The wounded
officers lay at the foot. They were surrounded. Seeing this
Lieutenant-Colonel Adams and Lord Fincastle, with Lieutenant Maclean
and two or three sowars, dashed to their assistance. At their charge
the tribesmen fell back a little way and opened a heavy fire. Lord
Fincastle's horse was immediately shot and he fell to the ground.
Rising, he endeavoured to lift the wounded Greaves on to Colonel Adams'
saddle, but at this instant a second bullet struck that unfortunate
officer, killing him instantly. Colonel Adams was slightly, and
Lieutenant Maclean mortally, wounded while giving assistance, and all
the horses but two were shot. In spite of the terrible fire, the body of
Lieutenant Greaves and the other two wounded officers were rescued and
carried to the little clump of trees.

For this gallant feat of arms both the surviving officers, Colonel Adams
and Lord Fincastle, were recommended for, and have since received,
the Victoria Cross. It was also officially announced, that Lieutenant
Maclean would have received it, had he not been killed. There are many,
especially on the frontier, where he was known as a fine soldier and
a good sportsman, who think that the accident of death should not have
been allowed to interfere with the reward of valour.

The extremes of fortune, which befell Lord Fincastle and Lieutenant
Greaves, may well claim a moment's consideration. Neither officer was
employed officially with the force. Both had travelled up at their own
expense, evading and overcoming all obstacles in an endeavour to see
something of war. Knights of the sword and pen, they had nothing to
offer but their lives, no troops to lead, no duties to perform, no
watchful commanding officer to report their conduct. They played for
high stakes, and Fortune never so capricious as on the field of battle,
dealt to the one the greatest honour that a soldier can hope for, as
some think, the greatest in the gift of the Crown, and to the other
Death.

The flight of the enemy terminated the action of Landakai. Thus in a few
hours and with hardly any loss, the "Gate of Swat," which the tribesmen
had regarded as impregnable, had been forced. One squadron of the
Guides cavalry, under Captain Brasier Creagh, pursuing the enemy had
a successful skirmish near the village of Abueh, and returned to camp
about 6.30 in the evening. [This officer was mentioned in despatches
for his skill and judgment in this affair; but he is better known on the
frontier for his brilliant reconnaissance towards Mamani, a month later,
in which in spite of heavy loss he succeeded in carrying out General
Hammond's orders and obtained most valuable information.] During the
fight about 1000 tribesmen had threatened the baggage column, but these
were but poor-spirited fellows, for they retired after a short skirmish
with two squadrons of the 11th Bengal Lancers, with a loss of twenty
killed and wounded. The total casualties of the day were as follows:--

                          BRITISH OFFICERS.
     Killed--Lieutenant R.T. Greaves, Lancs. Fusiliers.
       "          "     H.L.S. Maclean, Guides.
     Wounded severely--Captain M.E. Palmer, Guides.
     Wounded slightly--Lieutenant-Colonel R.B. Adams, Guides.
                      NATIVE RANKS--Wounded--5.
                       FOLLOWERS--Wounded--2.
                       Total Casualties--11.


It must be remembered, that but for the incident which resulted in the
deaths of the officers, and which Sir Bindon Blood described in his
official despatch as an "unfortunate contretemps," the total casualties
would have only been seven wounded. That so strong a position should
have been captured with so little loss, is due, firstly, to the
dispositions of the general; and secondly, to the power of the artillery
which he had concentrated. The account of the first attempt to storm
the Dargai position on the 20th of October, before it had been shaken
by artillery fire, when the Dorsetshire Regiment suffered severe loss,
roused many reflections among those who had witnessed the action of
Landakai.

The next morning, the 18th, the force continued their march up the
valley of the Upper Swat. The natives, thoroughly cowed, offered no
further opposition and sued for peace. Their losses at Landakai were
ascertained to have exceeded 500, and they realised that they had no
chance against the regular troops, when these were enabled to use their
powerful weapons.

As the troops advanced up the fertile and beautiful valley, all were
struck by the numerous ruins of the ancient Buddhists. Here in former
times were thriving cities, and civilised men. Here, we learn from
Fa-hien, [Record Of Buddhistic Kingdoms. Translated by James Legge,
M.A., LL.D.] were "in all 500 Sangharamas," or monasteries. At these
monasteries the law of hospitality was thus carried out: "When stranger
bhikshus (begging monks) arrive at one of them, their wants are supplied
for three days, after which they are told to find a resting-place for
themselves." All this is changed by time. The cities are but ruins.
Savages have replaced the civilised, bland-looking Buddhists, and the
traveller who should apply for hospitality, would be speedily shown
"a resting-place," which would relieve his hosts from further trouble
concerning him.

"There is a tradition," continues the intrepid monk, who travelled
through some of the wildest countries of the earth in the darkest ages
of its history, "that when Buddha came to North India, he came to this
country, and that he left a print of his foot, which is long or short
according to the ideas of the beholder." Although the learned Fa-hien
asserts that "it exists, and the same thing is true about it at the
present day," the various cavalry reconnaissances failed to discover it,
and we must regretfully conclude that it has also been obliterated by
the tides of time. Here too, says this Buddhistic Baedeker, is still to
be seen the rock on which "He dried his clothes; and the place where He
converted the wicked dragon (Naga)." "The rock is fourteen cubits high
and more than twenty broad, with one side of it smooth." This may well
be believed; but there are so many rocks of all dimensions that the
soldiers were unable to make certain which was the scene of the dragon's
repentance, and Buddha's desiccation.

His companions went on ahead towards Jellalabad, or some city in that
locality, but Fa-hien, charmed with the green and fertile beauties
of "the park," remained in the pleasant valley and "kept the summer
retreat." Then he descended into the land of So-hoo-to, which is perhaps
Buner.

Even in these busy, practical, matter-of-fact, modern times, where
nothing is desirable unless economically sound, it is not unprofitable
for a moment to raise the veil of the past, and take a glimpse of the
world as it was in other days. The fifth century of the Christian era
was one of the most gloomy and dismal periods in the history of mankind.
The Great Roman Empire was collapsing before the strokes of such as
Alaric the Goth, Attila the Hun, and Genseric the Vandal. The art and
valour of a classical age had sunk in that deluge of barbarism which
submerged Europe. The Church was convulsed by the Arian controversy.
That pure religion, which it should have guarded, was defiled with the
blood of persecution and degraded by the fears of superstition. Yet,
while all these things afflicted the nations of the West, and seemed
to foreshadow the decline or destruction of the human species, the wild
mountains of Northern India, now overrun by savages more fierce than
those who sacked Rome, were occupied by a placid people, thriving,
industrious, and intelligent; devoting their lives to the attainment
of that serene annihilation which the word nirvana expresses. When we
reflect on the revolutions which time effects, and observe how the home
of learning and progress changes as the years pass by, it is impossible
to avoid the conclusion, perhaps a mournful one, that the sun of
civilisation can never shine all over the world at once.

On the 19th, the force reached Mingaora, and here for five days they
waited in an agreeable camp, to enable Major Deane to receive the
submission of the tribes. These appeared much humbled by their defeats,
and sought to propitiate the troops by bringing in supplies of grain and
forage. Over 800 arms of different descriptions were surrendered during
the halt. A few shots were fired into the camp on the night of the
arrival at Mingaora, but the villagers, fearing lest they should suffer,
turned out and drove the "snipers" away. On the 21st a reconnaissance
as far as the Kotke Pass afforded much valuable information as to the
nature of the country. All were struck with the beauty of the scenery,
and when on the 24th the force marched back to Barikot, they carried
away with them the memory of a beautiful valley, where the green of the
rice fields was separated from the blue of the sky by the glittering
snow peaks of the Himalayas.

While the troops rested at Barikot, Sir Bindon Blood personally
reconnoitred the Karakar Pass, which leads from the Swat Valley into the
country of the Bunerwals. The Bunerwals belong to the Yusaf section, of
the Yusafzai tribe. They are a warlike and turbulent people. To their
valley, after the suppression of the Indian Mutiny, many of the Sepoys
and native officers who had been in revolt fled for refuge. Here, partly
by force and partly by persuasion, they established themselves.
They married women of the country and made a settlement. In 1863 the
Bunerwals came into collision with the British Government and much
severe fighting ensued, known to history as the Ambeyla Campaign. The
refugees from India renewed their quarrel with the white troops with
eagerness, and by their extraordinary courage and ferocity gained the
name of the "Hindustani Fanatics." At the cost of thirty-six officers
and eight hundred men Buner was subdued. The "Crag Picket" was taken
for the last time by the 101st Fusiliers, and held till the end of the
operations. Elephants, brought at great expense from India, trampled the
crops. Most of the "Hindustani Fanatics" perished in the fighting. The
Bunerwals accepted the Government terms, and the troops retired. Since
then, in 1868, in 1877 and again in 1884 they raided border villages,
but on the threat of an expedition paid a fine and made good the damage.
The reputation they have enjoyed since their stout resistance in 1863,
has enabled them to take a leading position among the frontier tribes;
and they have availed themselves of this to foment and aggravate several
outbreaks against the British. Their black and dark-blue clothes had
distinguished them from the other assailants of Malakand and Chakdara.
They had now withdrawn to their valley and thence defied the Government
and refused all terms.

As Sir Bindon Blood and his escort approached the top of the pass, a few
shots were fired by the watchers there, but there was no opposition. All
the Bunerwals had hurried over to defend the southern entrances to
their country, which they conceived were in danger of attack from
Brigadier-General Wodehouse's force at Rustum. The general reached the
Kotal, and saw the whole valley beneath him. Great villages dotted the
plains and the aspect was fertile and prosperous.

The unguarded Karakar Pass was practicable for troops, and if the
Government would give their consent, Buner might be reduced in a
fortnight without difficulty, almost without fighting.

Telegrams were despatched to India on the subject, and after much delay
and hesitation the Viceroy decided against the recommendation of
his victorious general. Though the desirability of settling with the
Bunerwals was fully admitted, the Government shrank from the risk. The
Malakand Field Force thus remained idle for nearly a fortnight. The
news, that the Sirkar had feared to attack Buner, spread like wildfire
along the frontier, and revived the spirits of the tribes. They fancied
they detected a sign of weakness. Nor were they altogether wrong. But
the weakness was moral rather than physical.

It is now asserted, that the punishment of Buner is only postponed,
and that a few months may see its consummation. [Written in 1897.] The
opportunity of entering the country without having to force the passes
may not, however, recur.

On the 26th of August the force returned to Thana, and the expedition
into Upper Swat terminated.

[The following is the most trustworthy estimate obtainable of loss of
life among the tribesmen in the fighting in the Swat Valley from 26th
July to 17th August. The figures include wounded, who have since died,
and are more than double those killed outright in the actions:--

  1. Lower Swat Pathans...  700 Buried in the graveyards.
  2. Upper  "      "   ...  600   "     "  "      "
  3. Buner proper . ...  500   "     "  "      "
  4. Utman Khel   . ...   80
  5. Yusafzai. . ...   50
  6. Other tribes . ...  150
               Total--2080.

 1, 2 and 3 are the result of recent inquiry on the spot.
 4, 5 and 6 are estimates based on native information.

The proportion of killed and died of wounds to wounded would be very
high, as the tribes have little surgical or medical knowledge and
refused all offers of aid. Assuming that only an equal number were
wounded and recovered, the total loss would be approximately 4000. A
check is obtained by comparing these figures with the separate estimates
for each action:--

  Malakand....     700
  Siege of Chakdara..   2000
  Relief "    "   ..     500
  Action of Landakai..     500
               Total--3700.





CHAPTER VIII: THE ADVANCE AGAINST THE MOHMANDS



The beginning of this chapter must mark a change in the standpoint from
which the story is told. Hitherto the course of events has been recorded
in the impersonal style of history. But henceforward I am able to rely
on my own memory as well as on other people's evidence. [I do not
desire to bore the reader or depreciate the story by the introduction
of personal matters. It will be sufficient if, in the interests of
coherency, I explain my connection with the Malakand Field Force. Having
realised, that if a British cavalry officer waits till he is ordered on
active service, he is likely to wait a considerable time, I obtained six
weeks' leave of absence from my regiment, and on the 2nd of September
arrived at Malakand as press correspondent of the PIONEER and DAILY
TELEGRAPH, and in the hope of being sooner or later attached to the
force in a military capacity.] It may be doubtful whether an historical
record gains or loses value when described by an eye-witness. From the
personal point of view, all things appear in a gradual perspective,
according to the degree in which they affect the individual; and we are
so prone to exaggerate the relative importance of incidents, which we
see, over those we hear about, that what the narrative gains in accuracy
of detail, it may lose in justness of proportion. In so nice a question
I shall not pronounce. I remember that the original object with which
this book was undertaken, was to present a picture of the war on the
North-West Frontier to the Englishmen at home; a picture which should
not only exist, but be looked at; and I am inclined to think, that this
end will be more easily attained by the adoption of a style of personal
narrative. Many facts, too local, too specialised, too insignificant,
for an historical record, and yet which may help the reader to form a
true impression of the scene and situation, are thus brought within
the compass of these pages. The account becomes more graphic if less
imposing, more vivid if less judicial. As long as each step down from
the "dignity of history" is accompanied by a corresponding increase
in interest, we may pursue without compunction that pleasant, if
descending, path.

The ninth chapter also introduces a new phase of the operations of the
force. The Mohmands now become the enemy and the scene is changed from
Swat to Bajaur. Before marching into their country, it will be desirable
to consider briefly those causes and events which induced the Government
of India to despatch an expedition against this powerful and warlike
tribe.


The tidal wave of fanaticism, which had swept the frontier, had
influenced the Mohmands, as all other border peoples. Their situation
was, however, in several important respects, different from that of the
natives of the Swat Valley. These Mohmands had neither been irritated
nor interfered with in any way. No military road ran through their
territory. No fortified posts stirred their animosity or threatened
their independence. Had they respected in others the isolation which
they themselves have so long enjoyed, they might have remained for an
indefinite period in that state of degraded barbarism which seems to
appeal so strongly to certain people in England. They became, however,
the aggressors.

In the heart of the wild and dismal mountain region, in which these
fierce tribesmen dwell, are the temple and village of Jarobi: the one
a consecrated hovel, the other a fortified slum. This obscure and
undisturbed retreat was the residence of a priest of great age and
of peculiar holiness, known to fame as the Hadda Mullah. His name is
Najb-ud-din, but as respect has prevented it being mentioned by the
tribesmen for nearly fifty years, it is only preserved in infidel
memories and records. The Government of India have, however, had this
man's personality brought vividly before them on several occasions.
About thirteen years ago he quarrelled with the Amir and raised the
Mohmands against him. The Amir replied by summoning his rebellious
subject--for Hadda, the Mullah's home and birthplace, is a village of
Afghanistan--to answer for his conduct at Cabul. But the crafty priest,
who was well acquainted with Afghan legal procedure, declined the
invitation, and retired to the independent Mohmand territory, where he
has lived ever since.

Content with thus inflicting the punishment of exile, the Amir was
disposed to forget the offence. In a letter to his Commander-in-Chief,
the "Sipah Salar," a great friend of the Mullah, he described him as a
"light of Islam." So powerful a light, indeed, he did not desire to have
in his own dominions; but across the border it was fitting that respect
should be shown to so holy a man. He therefore directed his officials to
cherish and honour him. Thus he retained a powerful weapon--to be used
when desirable. Whether by instigation or from personal motives, the
Hadda Mullah has long been a bitter foe to the British power. In 1895
he sent the fighting men of the Mohmands to resist the Chitral Relief
Force. Since then he has been actively engaged, by preaching and by
correspondence with other Mullahs, in raising a great combination
against the advancing civilisation.

In 1896 he terminated a long religious controversy with the Manki Mullah
of Nowshera and Spinkhara--a comparatively tame Mullah, who now supports
the Indian Government--by publishing a book setting forth his views, and
demolishing those of his antagonist. This work was printed in Delhi and
had an extensive sale among Mahommedans all over India. Complimentary
copies were sent to the "Sipah Salar" and other Afghan notabilities,
and the fame of the Hadda Mullah was known throughout the land. Besides
increasing his influence, his literary success stimulated his efforts.

While the Mad Fakir was rousing Swat and Buner, this powerful priest
incited the Mohmands. Though he was known to be a physical coward, his
sanctity and the fact that he was their own particular holy man, not
less than his eloquence, powerfully moved this savage tribe. A Jehad
was proclaimed. How long should Islam be insulted? How long should its
followers lurk in the barren lands of the North? He urged them to rise
and join in the destruction of the white invaders. Those who fell should
become saints; those who lived would be rich, for these Kafirs had money
and many other things besides, for which a true believer might find a
use.

The combined allurements of plunder and paradise proved irresistible.
On the 8th of August a great gathering, nearly 6000 strong, crossed
the frontier line, invaded British territory, burned the village
of Shankargarh, and attacked the fort of Shabkadr. This place is an
advanced post in the defensive system of the frontier, and is situated
some nineteen miles to the north-west of Peshawar. Its ordinary garrison
consists of about fifty Border Police. It is strongly built, and
is intended to attract the attention and delay the advance of a
raiding-party, until the Peshawar garrison has had time to take the
field. Both of these objects it admirably fulfilled in this case.

As soon as the news of the incursion of the Mohmands was received in
Peshawar, a flying column was mobilised and proceeded under the command
of Lieut.-Colonel J.B. Woon, 20th Punjaub Infantry, in the direction of
the fort. At dawn on the 9th of August they found the tribesmen in force
in a strong position near Shabdakr. The force at Colonel Woon's disposal
was small. It consisted of:--

   4 Guns 51st Field Battery.
   2 squadrons 13th Bengal Lancers..... 151 lances.
   2 Companies Somersetshire Light Infantry.. 186 rifles.
   20th Punjaub Infantry ...... 400   "

A total of about 750 men. The enemy numbered 6000. Nevertheless it was
decided to attack at once.


As the action which followed is but remotely connected with the fortunes
of the Malakand Field Force, I do not intend to describe it in detail.
The infantry in advancing could only attack on a front of 600 yards. The
enemy's line, being much longer, quickly turned both flanks. The fire
became severe. Numerous casualties occurred. A retirement was ordered.
As is usual in Asiatic warfare, it was considerably pressed. The
situation at about nine o'clock appeared critical. At this point
Brigadier-General Ellis, commanding the Peshawar District, arrived on
the field. He immediately ordered the two squadrons of the 13th Bengal
Lancers to move well to the right flank, to charge across the front and
check the enemy's advance. The "cease fire" sounded as on a field day.
Then there was a pause. The movements of the cavalry were concealed
from most of the troops, but suddenly all noticed the slackening of
the enemy's fire. Then the tribesmen were seen to be in retreat and
disorder. The power of cavalry had been strikingly displayed. The two
squadrons, ably led, had executed a fine charge over what theorists
would call impossible ground for a distance of one and a half miles
along the bed of a great nullah, and among rocks and stones that reduced
the pace to a trot. The enemy were driven from the field. Sixty were
actually speared by the Lancers, and the rest retreated in gloom and
disorder to their hills across the frontier.

The casualties were as follows:--

                        British Officers.
  Wounded severely--Major A. Lumb, Somersetshire Light Infantry.
    "        "      Captain S.W. Blacker, R.A.
    "        "      2nd Lieut. E Drummond, Somersetshire Light Infantry.
  Wounded slightly--Lieut. A.V. Cheyne, 13th Bengal Lancers.

                        British N.C.O.'s and Soldiers.
                                           Killed.  Wounded.
  51st Field Battery, R.A.....   0         2
  Somersetshire Light Infantry...   3         9

                        Native Ranks.

  13th Bengal Lancers .....   1        12
  20th Punjaub Infantry.....  5        35
  Followers   .......   0         1

                   Total Casualties, all ranks--72.


That such an outrage, as the deliberate violation of British territory
by these savages, should remain unpunished, "Forward Policy" or no
"Forward Policy," was of course impossible. Yet the vacillation and
hesitancy which the Government of India had displayed in the matter of
the Bunerwals, and the shocking and disgraceful desertion of the forts
in the Khyber Pass, were so fresh in all men's minds, that the order to
advance against the Mohmands was received with feelings of the greatest
relief throughout the forces. The general plan of the operations as
arranged by the Commander-in-Chief was as follows:--

1. Sir Bindon Blood with two brigades of the Malakand Field Force and
due proportions of cavalry and guns was to move through South Bajaur to
Nawagai, and on the 15th of September invade the Mohmand country from
that place.

2. On the same date Major-General Elles with an equal force would
leave Shabkadr, and entering the mountains march northeast to effect a
junction.

3. This having been done, the combined forces under the supreme
command of Sir Bindon Blood would be brought back through the Mohmands'
territories to Shabkadr. Incidentally they would deal with the Hadda
Mullah's village of Jarobi, and inflict such punishment on the tribesmen
as might be necessary to ensure their submission. The troops would then
be available for the Tirah Expedition, which it had by this time been
decided to organise.

The fact that after leaving Nawagai, nothing was known of the
configuration of the country, of which no maps existed; nor of the
supplies of food, forage and water available by the way, made the
preparations for, and the execution of, these operations somewhat
difficult. Wide margins had to be allowed in the matter of rations,
and in order to be prepared for all contingencies and obstructions of
ground, Sir Bindon Blood equipped his 2nd Brigade entirely with mule
transport. The 3rd Brigade with camels would follow if the road was
passable.

The following was the composition of the forces employed:--

                I. MALAKAND FIELD FORCE.

   Commanding--Major-General Sir Bindon Blood.

                    2nd Brigade.

   Brigadier-General Jeffries, C.B.
  The Buffs.
  35th Sikhs.
  38th Dogras.
  Guides Infantry.
  No.4 Company (Bengal) Sappers and Miners.
  No.7 Mountain Battery.

                    3rd Brigade.

   Brigadier-General Wodehouse.
  The Queen's Regiment.[This regiment had replaced the Gordon
     Highlanders in the 3rd Brigade.]
  22nd Punjaub Infantry.
  39th Punjaub Infantry.
  No.3 Company (Bombay) Sappers and Miners.
  No.1 Mountain Battery, R.A.

                    Cavalry--11th Bengal Lancers.

         Line of Communications.  1st Brigade.

  Brigadier-General Meiklejohn.
  Royal West Kent.
  Highland Light Infantry.
  31st Punjaub Infantry.
  24th Punjaub Infantry.
  45th Sikhs.
  No.7 British Mountain Battery.
 And the following additional troops:--
  1 Squadron 10th Bengal Lancers.
  2 Squadrons Guides Cavalry.


            II.THE MOHMAND FIELD FORCE.

                   1st Brigade.

  1st Battalion Somersetshire Light Infantry.
  Maxim Gun Detachment, 1st Battalion Devonshire Regiment.
  20th Punjaub Infantry.
  2nd Battalion 1st Gurkhas.
  Sections A and B No.5 British Field Hospital.
  Three Sections No.31 Native     "      "
  Section A No.45        "        "      "

                   2nd Brigade.

  2nd Battalion Oxfordshire Light Infantry.
  9th Gurkha Rifles.
  37th Dogras.
  Sections C and D No.5 British Field Hospital.
  No.44 Native Field Hospital.

                   Divisional Troops.

  13th Bengal Lancers.
  No.3 Mountain Battery, Royal Artillery.
  No.5 (Bombay) Mountain Battery.
  No.5 Company (Bengal) Sappers and Miners.
  28th Bombay Pioneers.
  1st Patiala Infantry.
  Sections C and D No.63 Native Field Hospital.


To record the actual movements of troops in a campaign, is among the
most important duties of one who undertakes to tell its tale. For the
sake of clearness, of brevity, and that the reader who is not interested
may find convenience in skipping, I shall at once describe the whole of
the marches and manoeuvres, by which Sir Bindon Blood moved his brigades
across the Panjkora River, and after the Malakand Field Force is safely
camped at Ghosam, the reader will be invited to return to examine the
scenery, and remark the incidents of the way.

During the end of August, the 2nd Brigade, equipped with mule transport,
was at Khar in the Swat Valley. The 3rd Brigade was at Uch. On the 2nd
of September, definite orders to advance were received from Simla.
In pursuance of these instructions, Sir Bindon Blood ordered
Brigadier-General Wodehouse with the 3rd Brigade, which in anticipation
had been moved from Uch a few days previously, to take over the bridge
across the Panjkora from the Khan of Dir's Levies, and secure the
passage. On the 6th, the 3rd Brigade marched from Sarai to Panjkora,
and obtained possession of the bridge just in time to prevent it falling
into the hands of the enemy, who had already gathered to seize it.
The 12-pounder guns of the 10th Field Battery were placed in a strong
position commanding the passage, and the brigade camped on the left
bank. On the same day, Brigadier-General Jeffries with headquarters
marched from Khar to Chakdara. On the 7th he proceeded to Sarai, and on
the 8th effected the passage of the Panjkora, and camped on the further
bank at Kotkai. On the 10th, both brigades marched to Ghosam, where they
concentrated. On the line of communications to the Malakand, stages
were established at Chakdara and Sarai, with accommodation for sick
and wounded. An advanced depot was formed behind the Panjkora, to guard
which and to hold the passage, an additional force was moved from the
Swat Valley.

This concentration at Ghosam, of which the details had worked out so
mechanically, had been necessitated by the attitude of the tribesmen of
Bajaur and the adjoining valleys. Great gatherings had collected, and
up to the 7th of September there had been every sign of determined
opposition. So formidable did the combination appear, that Sir Bindon
Blood arranged to have at his disposal a force of six squadrons, nine
battalions and three batteries, in the expectation of an action at or
near Ghosam, which would perhaps have been on a larger scale than any
British engagement since Tel-el-Kebir. [As so many misconceptions exist
as to the British casualties in this victory, it is necessary to state
that in the twenty minutes' fighting 11 officers and 43 men were killed
and 22 officers and 320 men were wounded.]

These anticipations were however doomed to disappointment. The
methodical, remorseless advance of powerful forces filled the tribesmen
with alarm. They made a half-hearted attempt to capture the Panjkora
bridge, and finding themselves forestalled, fell again to discussing
terms. In this scene of indecision the political officers employed all
their arts. And then suddenly the whole huge combination, which had been
raised in our path, collapsed as an iceberg, when southern waters have
melted its base.

Whatever the philanthropist may say, it would appear to have been better
policy to have encouraged the tribesmen to oppose the advance in the
open, on some well-defined position. Had they done so, there can be no
doubt that the two fine brigades, backed by a powerful artillery, and
under a victorious commander, who knew and had fought over every inch of
the ground, would have defeated them with severe loss. Bajaur would have
been settled at a single blow and probably at a far less cost in lives
than was afterwards incurred. Instead of this, it was the aim of our
diplomacy to dissipate the opposition. The inflammation, which should
have been brought to a head and then operated on, was now dispersed
throughout the whole system, with what results future chapters will
show.

Having thus brought the brigades peacefully to Gosham, I ask the reader
to return to the Malakand and ride thence with the Headquarters Staff
along the line of march. On the 5th of September, Sir Bindon Blood and
his staff, which I had the pleasure to accompany, started from the Kotal
Camp and proceeded across the plain of Khar to Chakdara. Here we halted
for the night, and as the scenery and situation of this picturesque fort
have already been described, the march may be continued without delay
next morning. From Chakdara to Sarai is a stage of twelve miles. The
road runs steadily up the valley until the summit of the Catgalla Pass
is reached. "Catgalla" means "Cut-throat," and, indeed, it is not hard
to believe that this gloomy defile has been the scene of dark and horrid
deeds. Thence a descent of two miles leads to Sarai. On the way, we fell
in with the 2nd Brigade, and had to leave the road to avoid the long
lines of mules and marching men who toiled along it.

The valley at Sarai is about two miles wide, and the mountains rise
steeply from it. On every ridge it is possible to distinguish the red
brick ruins which were the dwellings of the ancient Buddhists. These
relics of an early civilisation, long since overthrown and forgotten,
cannot fail to excite interest and awaken reflection. They carry the
mind back to the times "when the smoke of sacrifice rose from the
Pantheon, and when camelopards and tigers bounded in the Flavian
amphitheatre." And they also lead us to speculations of the future, till
we wonder whether the traveller shall some day inspect, with unconcerned
composure, the few scraps of stone and iron which may indicate the
British occupation of India. Few, indeed, the remains would be--for we
build for immediate use, not future ostentation in these days, and if
we should ever cease to be a force in the world, all traces of us would
soon be obliterated by time. Yet, perhaps, if that unborn critic of
remote posterity would remember that "in the days of the old British,"
the rice crop had been more abundant, the number of acres under
cultivation greater, the population larger and the death rate lower,
than at any period in the history of India--we should not be without a
monument more glorious than the pyramids.

We camped with the 2nd Brigade on the night of the 6th, and next
morning, while the stars were still shining, resumed the march. Five
miles from Sarai the road dwindles to a mule track, and henceforward is
not fit for wheeled traffic. In spite of this, the 10th Field Battery
had succeeded in getting their guns along it, and had brought them
safely to Panjkora. But soldiers will accomplish a good deal to get
nearer the enemy. The scenery before the gorge of the river is reached
is gloomy, but grand. Great cliffs tower up precipitously on the further
bank and the path is cut in the face of the rock. The river, which flows
swiftly by, plunges into a narrow cleft about a mile below the bridge,
and disappears among the mountains. It abounds in fish, but is rapid and
dangerous, and while the troops were encamped near it, two gunners lost
their lives by falling in, and being carried down. Indeed, watching the
dead bodies of several camels being swept along, swirled around,
and buffeted against the rocks, it was not hard to understand these
accidents.

At length, the bridge is reached. It is a frail structure, supported
on wire ropes. At each end are gates, flanked by little mud towers. The
battery was established on a knoll to the right, and the long muzzles of
the guns peered through stone embrasures at the opposite hills. It was
round the bases of these hills that much hard fighting took place in the
Chitral campaign. About half a mile beyond the bridge, I was shown the
place where the Guides had been so hard pressed, and for a whole night
had had to stand at bay, their colonel killed, the bridge broken, and
the river in flood, against the tribesmen in overwhelming numbers.

The field telegraph stopped at the bridge-head, and a small tent with a
half-dozen military operators marked the breaking of the slender thread
that connected us, across thousands of miles of sea and land, with
London. Henceforward a line of signal stations with their flickering
helios would be the only links. We were at the end of the wire. I have
often stood at the other and watched the tape machine click off the news
as it arrives; the movements of the troops; the prospects of action; the
fighting; the casualties. How different are the scenes. The club on
an autumn evening--its members grouped anxiously around, discussing,
wondering, asserting; the noise of the traffic outside; the cigarette
smoke and electric lights within. And, only an hour away along the
wire, the field, with the bright sunlight shining on the swirling muddy
waters; the black forbidding rocks; the white tents of the brigade a
mile up the valley; the long streak of vivid green rice crop by the
river; and in the foreground the brown-clad armed men. I can never doubt
which is the right end to be at. It is better to be making the news than
taking it; to be an actor rather than a critic.

To cross the bridge, it was necessary to dismount and lead the horses
over in single file. Even then the swinging of the whole structure made
it difficult to walk. The passage of the transport under such conditions
occupied all the day, and the unfortunate officers in charge of the mule
trains were working incessantly. The staff passed quickly, however, and
riding on about a mile forded the tributary stream of the Jandol,
and reached the camp at Kotkai about noon. Thence we proceeded on the
following day to Ghosam, but as the road is uninteresting, and I am
beginning to think the reader will readily excuse further description,
we need not toil along it in the dust and the heat. The narration of the
daily movements of troops, unmarked by variety of incident, is dull and
wearying. Yet he who would obtain a true idea of the soldier's life on
service, must mentally share the fatigues of the march and the monotony
of the camp. The fine deeds, the thrilling moments of war, are but the
high lights in a picture, of which the background is routine, hard work,
and discomfort.

At Ghosam the 2nd Brigade remained until joined by the 3rd and pending
negotiations between the political officers and the tribal Jirgahs.

The use of purely local terms in all writing is to be deprecated.
Perhaps the reason that no popular history of India exists, is to
be found in the outlandish names of the characters, and the other
expressions with which the pages are sprinkled. In this account I have
zealously tried to avoid the ugly jargon of a degraded language, and to
minimise the use of native names. The term just employed has, however,
been so freely used in the newspapers recently, that it is perhaps as
well to explain its meaning. A Jirgah is a deputation of tribesmen. It
does not necessarily represent the tribe. It may present--and very often
does--a minority report. Occasionally it expresses the opinion only of
its own members. What has been settled one day is therefore very often
overruled the next. The Jirgah may accept terms of peace in the morning,
and the camp may be rushed that night. These were, however, genuine,
and spoke in the name and with the authority of the tribes. All day they
kept arriving and squatting in rows before Major Deane's tent, to hear
the Government terms. The chief condition imposed, was the surrender of
rifles. A fixed number, based on calculation of wealth and population,
was demanded from each clan. This method of punishment is peculiarly
galling to people whose life is so full of war. No other course was,
however, open but submission, and, promising that the terms should be
complied with, the deputations departed. To stimulate their efforts and
zeal in collecting their arms, the combined movements were delayed for
three days, and the forces remained encamped at Ghosam, near Manda.

I avail myself of this halt to touch, albeit with no little trepidation,
the tangled and obscure subject of tribal politics in Dir and Bajaur.
All the people, incited by their priests, are bitterly hostile to the
British Government, except those benefited by the subsidies paid. They
were now anxious to fight, and were only restrained by a fear which
fury or fanaticism might at any moment overcome. Four principal khans
exercise an authority which varies locally, from absolute dominion to
a shadowy suzerainty, over the whole region. The Khan of Dir, the most
important, is a Government nominee. He is supported by the British
influence, and is, as I have already noticed, entrusted with the raising
of Levies to protect and keep in repair the Chitral road. For
these services he receives pay, and a certain allowance of arms and
ammunition. His own subjects are strongly opposed to his rule from
dislike of his British sympathies, and he only maintains himself by the
assistance which the Government gives him in arms and money. In other
words he is a puppet.

The Khan of Nawagai is constrained by fear to display a friendly
attitude towards the Sirkar. His subjects resent this and his position
is insecure. He receives some moral support from the British agents, and
as his people are uncertain how far the Government would go to uphold
him, and also as they partly realise his difficult position, they have
hitherto submitted sullenly to his rule.

The position and attitude of the Khan of Jar are similar, but he is
a less influential chief. The fourth potentate, the Khan of Khar, is
perhaps the most honest and trustworthy. He will appear in a later
chapter, and the reader will have the opportunity of judging of his
character from his conduct. Thus in these valleys, while the people
are all hostile, their rulers find it expedient to preserve a friendly
demeanour to the British, and for this they are hated by their subjects.

At this stage, the leader of the popular party claims attention. As is
usual, he is out of office. After the Chitral expedition of 1895, Umra
Khan was expelled from his territories, and escaped to Cabul. There he
has remained. The Amir is under an obligation to the British Government
to prevent his raising trouble in Bajaur. If the Amir desired war he
would send Umra Khan back. This would create a strong faction throughout
the whole country--but particularly in the Jandol, Salarzai and Mamund
Valleys--hostile to the British and the friendly khans. The Amir hinted
at this in a recent letter to the Government of India; and such a step
would probably precede his declaration of war, or follow ours. The
Afghan sovereign is, however, well aware that he has at present nothing
to gain, and many things to lose, by provoking a war with the great
power which gave him his throne and has since increased his revenue by
subsidies. In the meanwhile, anxious to preserve his influence with the
border tribes, and to impress the Indian Government with the fact that
he could be a powerful foe, he keeps Umra Khan as a trump card, to be
played when the occasion arises. That he may maintain his authority in
Bajaur, the exiled khan is well supplied with funds, with which to arm
and pay his retainers.

The situation I have thus briefly described has been little altered by
the operations with which future chapters are concerned. The friendly
khans have been fortified in their allegiance and position by the
military demonstration and by the severe punishment inflicted on those
tribes who resisted. On the other hand, the hostility of the people has
been not unnaturally increased by war, and one tribe in particular has
gained a reputation for courage, which will give them the power to cause
trouble in the future. I shall not, however, anticipate the tale.





CHAPTER IX: RECONNAISSANCE



While the infantry of both brigades remained halted at Ghosam, near
Manda, the cavalry made daily reconnaissances in all directions.
Sometimes the object in view was topographical, sometimes military,
and at others diplomatic, or to use the Indian application of the term,
"political."

On the 10th, Major Deane visited the various chiefs in the Jandul
Valley. I asked and obtained permission to accompany him. A change from
the hot and dusty camp was agreeable to all who could be spared, and
quite a party was formed, among whom were some whose names have occurred
previously in these pages--Major Beatson, Major Hobday, and Lord
Fincastle. A squadron of the 11th Bengal Lancers acted as escort.

The valley of the Jandul is about eight miles long and perhaps half as
broad. It opens out of the main valley, which extends from the Panjkora
to Nawagai, and is on all other sides surrounded by high and precipitous
mountains. The bed of the river, although at the time of our visit
occupied only by a small stream, is nearly half a mile broad and
bordered by rice fields, to which the water is conducted by many
artfully contrived dykes and conduits. The plain itself is arid and
sandy, but at the winter season yields a moderate crop. The presence of
water below the surface is attested by numerous groves of chenar trees.

This valley may, in natural and political features, be taken as typical
of the Afghan valleys. Seven separate castles formed the strongholds of
seven separate khans. Some of these potentates had been implicated in
the attack on the Malakand, and our visit to their fastnesses was not
wholly of an amicable nature. They had all four days before been
bound by the most sacred oaths to fight to the death. The great tribal
combination had, however, broken up, and at the last moment they had
decided upon peace. But the Pathan does nothing by halves. No black
looks, no sullen reserve, marred the geniality of their welcome. As we
approached the first fortified village the sovereign and his army rode
out to meet us, and with many protestations of fidelity, expressed his
joy at our safe arrival. He was a fine-looking man and sat well on a
stamping roan stallion. His dress was imposing. A waistcoat of gorgeous
crimson, thickly covered with gold lace, displayed flowing sleeves of
white linen, buttoned at the wrist. Long, loose, baggy, linen trousers,
also fastened above the ankle, and curiously pointed shoes clothed his
nether limbs. This striking costume was completed by a small skull-cap,
richly embroidered, and an ornamental sabre.

He sprang from his horse with grace and agility, to offer his sword to
Major Deane, who bade him mount and ride with him. The army, four or
five rascally-looking men on shaggy ponies, and armed with rifles of
widely different patterns, followed at a distance. The fort was an
enclosure about a hundred yards square. Its walls were perhaps twenty
feet high and built of rough stones plastered together with mud and
interspersed with courses of timber. All along the top was a row
of loopholes. At each corner a tall flanking tower enfiladed the
approaches. At the gate of this warlike residence some twenty or thirty
tribesmen were gathered, headed by the khan's own cousin, an elderly man
dressed in long white robes. All saluted us gravely. The escort closed
up. A troop trotted off to the right out of the line fire of the fort.
The advance scouts, passing round the walls, formed on the farther
side. These matters of detail complied with, conversation began. It was
conducted in Pushtu, and was naturally unintelligible to every one of
our party except the two political officers. Apparently Major Deane
reproached the two chiefs for their conduct. He accused them of having
seized the bridge across the Panjkora and delivered the passage to
the fanatic crowds that had gathered to attack the Malakand. This they
admitted readily enough. "Well, why not?" said they; "there was a good
fair fight." Now they would make peace. They bore no malice, why should
the Sirkar?

It was not, however, possible to accept this sportsmanlike view of the
situation. They were asked where were the rifles they had been ordered
to surrender. At this they looked blank. There were no rifles. There
never had been any rifles. Let the soldiers search the fort and see
for themselves. The order was given; three or four sowars drew their
carbines, dismounted and entered the great and heavy gate, which had
been suspiciously opened a little way.

The gate gave access to a small courtyard, commanded on every side by an
interior defence. In front was a large low room of uncertain dimensions:
a kind of guard-house. It simply hummed with men. The outer walls were
nearly five feet thick and would have resisted the fire of mountain
guns. It was a strong place.

The Lancers, accustomed to the operation of hunting for arms, hurriedly
searched the likely and usual places, but without success. One thing,
however, they noticed, which they immediately reported. There were no
women and children in the fort. This had a sinister aspect. Our visit
was unexpected and had taken them by surprise, but they were prepared
for all emergencies. They had hidden their rifles and cleared for
action.

The two chiefs smiled in superior virtue. Of course there were no
rifles. But matters took, for them, an unexpected turn. They had no
rifles--said Major Deane--very well, they should come themselves.
He turned to an officer of the Lancers; a section rode forward and
surrounded both men. Resistance was useless. Flight was impossible.
They were prisoners. Yet they behaved with Oriental composure and calmly
accepted the inevitable. They ordered their ponies and, mounting, rode
behind us under escort.

We pursued our way up the valley. As we approached each fort, a khan
and his retainers advanced and greeted us. Against these there was no
definite charge, and the relations throughout were amicable. At the
head of the valley is Barwa, the home of the most powerful of these
princelets. This fort had belonged to Umra Khan, and attested, by
superiority of construction, the intellectual development of that
remarkable man. After the Chitral expedition it had been given by
the Government to its present owner, who, bitterly hated by the other
chieftains of the valley, his near relatives mostly, had no choice but
loyalty to the British. He received us with courtesy and invited us to
enter and see the fort. This, after taking all precautions and posting
sentries, we did. It was the best specimen of Afghan architecture I have
seen. In this very fort Lieutenants Fowler and Edwards were confined in
1895, when the prisoners of Umra Khan. The new chief showed their room
which opened on a balcony, whence a fine view of the whole valley
could be obtained. There are many worse places of durance. The fort
is carefully defended and completely commands the various approaches.
Judicious arrangements of loopholes and towers cover all dead ground.
Inside the walls galleries of brushwood enabled the defenders to fire
without exposing themselves. In the middle is the keep, which, if
Fortune were adverse, would be the last stronghold of the garrison.

What a strange system of society is disclosed by all this! Here was this
man, his back against the mountains, maintaining himself against the
rest of the valley, against all his kin, with the fear of death and the
chances of war ever in his mind, and holding his own, partly by force
of arms, partly by the support of the British agents, and partly through
the incessant feuds of his adversaries.

It is "all against all," in these valleys. The two khans who had
been arrested would have fled to the hills. They knew they were to be
punished. Still they dared not leave their stronghold. A neighbour, a
relation, a brother perhaps, would step into the unguarded keep and
hold it for his own. Every stone of these forts is blood-stained with
treachery; each acre of ground the scene of a murder. In Barwa itself,
Umra Khan slew his brother, not in hot anger or open war, but coldly and
deliberately from behind. Thus he obtained power, and the moralist
might observe with a shudder, that but for the "Forward Policy" he would
probably be in full enjoyment to-day. This Umra Khan was a man of much
talent, a man intellectually a head and shoulders above his countrymen.
He was a great man, which on the frontier means that he was a great
murderer, and might have accomplished much with the quick-firing guns
he was negotiating for, and the troops he was drilling "on the European
model." The career of this Afghan Napoleon was cut short, however, by
the intervention of Providence in the guise or disguise of the Indian
Government. He might have been made use of. People who know the frontier
well, say that a strong man who has felt the grip of the British power
is the best tool to work with, and that if Umra Khan, humbled and
overawed, had been reinstated, he might have done much to maintain law
and order. As long as they fight, these Afghans do not mind much on
which side they fight. There are worse men and worse allies helping
us to-day. The unpractical may wonder why we, a people who fill some
considerable place in the world, should mix in the petty intrigues of
these border chieftains, or soil our hands by using such tools at all.
Is it fitting that Great Britain should play off one brutal khan against
his neighbours, or balance one barbarous tribe against another? It is
as much below our Imperial dignity, as it would be for a millionaire to
count the lumps in the sugar-basin. If it be necessary for the safety of
our possessions that these territories should be occupied, it would
be more agreeable to our self-respect that we should take them with a
strong hand. It would be more dignified, but nothing costs more to keep
up than dignity, and it is perhaps because we have always been guided
by sound commercial principles in this respect that we have attained our
present proud position.

After looking round the fortress and admiring the skill and knowledge
with which it was built, we were conducted by the khan to the shade of
some beautiful chenar trees, which grew near a little spring not far
from the walls of the fort. Here were a number of charpoys, or native
bedsteads, very comfortable, but usually full of bugs, and on these we
sat.

Remembering Maizar, and many other incidents of frontier hospitality,
sentries were posted on all the approaches and a sufficient guard kept
under arms. Then we had breakfast--a most excellent breakfast.

The arrangements for the comfort and convenience of the troops of the
Frontier Force are unequalled. They live more pleasantly and with
less discomfort on active service than does a British regiment at the
Aldershot manoeuvres. Whether the march be long or short, peaceful
or opposed, whether the action be successful or the reverse, their
commissariat never fails. In fact it is only just to say that they have
always lances and bullets for an enemy, and sandwiches and "pegs" for a
friend.

On this occasion, our provisions were supplemented by the hospitality of
the khan. A long row of men appeared, each laden with food. Some carried
fruit,--pears or apples; others piles of chupatties, or dishes of
pillau.

Nor were our troopers forgotten. The Mahommedans among them eagerly
accepted the proffered food. But the Sikhs maintained a remorseful
silence and declined it. They could not eat what had been prepared by
Mussulman hands, and so they sat gazing wistfully at the appetising
dishes, and contented themselves with a little fruit.

Very austere and admirable they looked, almost painfully conscious of
their superior virtue. But I could not help thinking that had we not
been spectators the chenar trees might have witnessed the triumph of
reason over religious prejudice.

During the heat of the day we rested in this pleasant grove, and with
sleep and conversation passed the hours away, while the sentries pacing
to and fro alone disturbed the illusion that this was some picnic party
in a more propitious land. Then, as the shadows lengthened, we started
upon our return to camp.

On arriving, the political officers were pleased, and the soldiers
disappointed, to find that the tribesmen were determined to accept the
Government terms. A hundred rifles from the Utman Khels had already been
surrendered, and now lay outside Major Deane's tent, surrounded by a
crowd of officers, who were busily engaged in examining them.

Opinion is divided, and practice has followed opinion as to whether,
in a tale of travel or of war, it is preferable to intersperse the
narrative with conclusions and discussions, or to collect them all in
a final chapter. I shall unhesitatingly embrace the former method. The
story shall be told as it happened, and the reader's attention will be
directed to such considerations and reflections as arise by the way. It
will therefore be convenient to make a digression into the question
of the supply of arms to the frontier tribes, while a hundred rifles,
probably a representative hundred, are piled in the main street of the
camp at Ghosam.

The perpetual state of intestine war, in which the border peoples live,
naturally creates a keen demand for deadly weapons. A good Martini-Henry
rifle will always command a price in these parts of Rs.400 or about
25 British pounds. As the actual value of such a rifle does not exceed
Rs.50, it is evident that a very large margin of profit accrues to the
enterprising trader. All along the frontier, and from far down into
India, rifles are stolen by expert and cunning thieves. One tribe, the
Ut Khels, who live in the Laghman Valley, have made the traffic in arms
their especial business. Their thieves are the most daring and their
agents the most cunning. Some of their methods are highly ingenious. One
story is worth repeating. A coffin was presented for railway transport.
The relatives of the deceased accompanied it. The dead man, they said,
had desired to be buried across the frontier. The smell proclaimed
the corpse to be in an advanced state of decomposition. The railway
officials afforded every facility for the passage of so unpleasant an
object. No one checked its progress. It was unapproachable. It was only
when coffin and mourners were safe across the frontier that the police
were informed that a dozen rifles had been concealed in the coffin, and
that the corpse was represented by a quarter of "well hung" beef!

I regret to have to state, that theft is not the only means by which
the frontier tribes obtain weapons. Of a hundred rifles, which the
Utman Khels had surrendered, nearly a third were condemned Government
Martinis, and displayed the Government stamp. Now no such rifles
are supposed to exist. As soon as they are condemned, the arsenal
authorities are responsible that they are destroyed, and this is in
every case carried out under European supervision. The fact, that
such rifles are not destroyed and are found in the possession of
trans-frontier tribesmen, points to a very grave instance of dishonest
and illegal traffic being carried on by some person connected with the
arsenal. It need hardly be said that a searching inquiry was instituted.

Another point connected with these rifles is that even when they
have been officially destroyed, by cutting them in three pieces, the
fractions have a marketable value. Several were shown me which had been
rejoined by the tribesmen. These were, of course, very dangerous weapons
indeed. The rest of the hundred had strange tales to tell. Two or three
were Russian military rifles, stolen probably from the distant posts in
Central Asia. One was a Snider, taken at Maiwand, and bearing the number
of the ill-fated regiment to which it had belonged. Some had come from
Europe, perhaps overland through Arabia and Persia; others from the arms
factory at Cabul. It was a strange instance of the tireless efforts of
Supply to meet Demand.

The importance of the arms question cannot be exaggerated. The
long-range rifle fire, which has characterised the great frontier
war, is a new feature. Hitherto our troops have had to face bold sword
charges but comparatively little firing. Against the former, modern
weapons are effective. But no discipline and no efficiency can stop
bullets hitting men. This is a small part of the question. In the matter
of fighting, what is good enough for the tribesmen should be good enough
for the soldier. A more serious consideration is raised than that of
casualties, which are after all only the inseparable concomitant of
glory. Transport in mountainous countries depends entirely on mules and
camels. A great number are needed even to supply one brigade. At night
these animals have to be packed closely in an entrenched camp. It is not
possible to find camping grounds in the valleys which are not commanded
by some hill or assailable from some nullah. It is dangerous to put out
pickets, as they may be "rushed" or, in the event of a severe attack,
shot down, by the fire of their main body. [This applies to Swat and
Bajaur, where the sword charge is still to be apprehended.] The result
is that the transport animals must be exposed to long-range fire at
night. The reader will observe, as the account proceeds, that on two
occasions a large number of transport mules were killed in this
way. When a certain number are killed, a brigade is as helpless as a
locomotive without coal. It cannot move. Unless it be assisted it must
starve. Every year the tribesmen will become better marksmen, more
completely armed with better rifles. If they recognise the policy of
continually firing at our animals, they may bring all operations to a
standstill. And so by this road I reach the conclusion that whatever is
to be done on the frontier, should be done as quickly as possible. But
to return to the story.

The next day, the 11th of September, the troops remained halted at
Ghosam, and another squadron was ordered to escort the Intelligence
Officer, Captain H.E. Stanton, D.S.O., while making a topographical
reconnaissance of the passes into the Utman Khel country. The
opportunity of making fresh maps and of adding to and correcting the
detail of existing maps only occurs when troops are passing through the
country, and must not be neglected. The route lay up the main valley
which leads to Nawagei. We started early, but the way was long and the
sun high before we reached the entrance of the pass. The landscape was
one of the strangest I shall ever see. On the opposite bank of the river
were the dwellings of the Utman Khels, and in an area seven miles by
three, I counted forty-six separate castles, complete with moats, towers
and turrets. The impression produced was extraordinary. It suggested
Grimm's fairy tales. It almost seemed as if we had left the natural
earth and strayed into some strange domain of fancy, the resort of
giants or ogres.

To reach the pass, we were compelled to traverse a large village, and
as the situation in the narrow, winding streets was about as awkward
for cavalry as could be imagined, every possible precaution was taken to
guard against attack. At length the squadron passed safely through and
formed up on the farther side. The steep ascent to the passes became
visible. As there were two routes to be reconnoitered, the party was
divided, and after a hasty breakfast we commenced the climb. For a
considerable distance it was possible to ride. At every difficult turn
of the track sowars were posted to secure the retreat, if it should be
necessary to come back in a hurry. The head man of the village furnished
a guide, a cheery and amusing fellow, who professed much solicitude for
our safety. But no reliance could be placed on these people, and on the
opposite side of the valley numerous figures could be seen moving along
and keeping pace with our advancing party. At length the horses and the
greater part of the escort had to be abandoned. I accompanied Captain
Stanton, and Captain Cole, who commanded the squadron and was also
Reuter's correspondent, with a couple of troopers to the top of the
pass. The day was intensely hot, and the arduous climb excited a thirst
which there was nothing to allay. At length we gained the summit, and
stood on the Kotal.

Far below us was a valley, into which perhaps no white man had looked
since Alexander crossed the mountains on his march to India. Numerous
villages lay dotted about in its depths, while others nestled against
the hills. Isolated forts were distinguishable, while large trees showed
there was no lack of water. It was a view that repaid the exertions of
the climb, even if it did not quench the thirst they had excited.

While Captain Stanton was making his sketch,--one of those useful
view-sketches, now taking the place of all others, in rapid cavalry
reconnaissance, we amused our fancy by naming the drinks we should
order, were a nice, clean European waiter at hand to get them. I forget
what my selection was, but it was something very long and very cold.
Alas! how far imagination lags behind reality. The vivid impressions
which we conjured up--the deep glasses, and the clinking ice--did little
to dissipate the feelings of discomfort.

Our guide meanwhile squatted on the ground and pronounced the names of
all the villages, as each one was pointed at. To make sure there was no
mistake, the series of questions was repeated. This time he gave to each
an entirely different name with an appearance of great confidence and
pride. However, one unpronounceable name is as good as another, and the
villages of the valley will go down to official history, christened
at the caprice of a peasant. But perhaps many records, now accepted as
beyond dispute, are derived from such a slender authority.

The sketch finished, we commenced the descent and reached our horses
without incident. The squadron concentrated near the village, and we
heard that the other sketching party had met with more adventures than
had fallen to our lot.

It was commanded by Lieutenant Hesketh, a young officer, who was
severely wounded at the storming of the Malakand Pass in 1895, and who,
having again volunteered for active service, was attached to the 11th
Bengal Lancers. At the foot of the pass he dismounted his troop and,
taking a few men with him, began the climb. The pass was occupied by
tribesmen, who threatened to fire on the party if they advanced farther.
The subaltern replied, that he only wished to see the country on the
other side and did not intend to harm any one. At the same time he
pursued his way and the tribesmen, not wishing to bring matters to a
crisis, fell back slowly, repeatedly taking aim, but never daring to
fire. He reached the top of the pass and Captain Walters, the Assistant
Intelligence Officer, was able to make a most valuable sketch of
the country beyond. It was a bold act and succeeded more through its
boldness than from any other cause; for, had the tribesmen once opened
fire, very few of the party could have got down alive. Making a detour
to avoid the village, which it was undesirable to traverse a second
time, the squadron returned and arrived at the camp at Ghosam as the sun
was setting.

The service camp of an Anglo-Indian brigade is arranged on regular
principles. The infantry and guns are extended in the form of a square.
The animals and cavalry are placed inside. In the middle is the camp of
the Headquarters staff, with the tent of the brigadier facing that of
the general commanding the division. All around the perimeter a parapet
is built, varying in height according to the proximity and activity of
the enemy. This parapet not only affords cover from random shots, but
also makes a line for the men to form on in case of a sudden attack.
Behind it the infantry lie down to sleep, a section of each company, as
an inlying picket, dressed and accoutred. Their rifles are often laid
along the low wall with the bayonets ready fixed. If cavalry have to be
used in holding part of the defences, their lances can be arranged in
the same way. Sentries every twenty-five yards surround the camp with a
line of watchers.

To view the scene by moonlight is alone an experience which would
repay much travelling. The fires have sunk to red, glowing specks. The
bayonets glisten in a regular line of blue-white points. The silence of
weariness is broken by the incessant and uneasy shuffling of the animals
and the occasional neighing of the horses. All the valley is plunged in
gloom and the mountains rise high and black around. Far up their sides,
the twinkling watch-fires of the tribesmen can be seen. Overhead is the
starry sky, bathed in the pale radiance of the moon. It is a spectacle
that may inspire the philosopher no less than the artist. The camp is
full of subdued noises. Here is no place for reflection, for quiet or
solemn thought. The day may have been an exciting one. The morrow may
bring an action. Some may be killed, but in war-time life is only lived
in the present. It is sufficient to be tired and to have time to rest,
and the camp, if all the various items that compose it can be said to
have a personality, shrugs its shoulders and, regarding the past without
regret, contemplates the future without alarm.





CHAPTER X: THE MARCH TO NAWAGAI



After considering such maps and information as to the nature of the
country as were available, Sir Bindon Blood decided to enter the
territories of the Mohmands by two routes. (1) The 3rd Brigade through
the pass of Nawagai. (2) The 2nd Brigade over the Rambat Pass. This
would sweep the country more thoroughly, and afford increased facilities
for drawing supplies. As the 3rd Brigade had a greater distance to
cover, it passed in front of the 2nd, and on the 12th of September, by
a march of twelve miles, reached Shumshuk. The 2nd Brigade, which had
hitherto been leading, moved by an easy stage of seven miles to Jar, and
there camped within supporting distance.

The Headquarters staff was now transferred to the 3rd Brigade and
marched with them. The road lay for the first five or six miles over the
ground, which the cavalry had reconnoitered the day before. Again all
were struck by the great array of castles on the Utman Khel side of the
valley. Many eager spirits would have liked to stop and blow up some of
these fine places. But the Government terms had been complied with and
the columns moved slowly by, eyeing the forts, which were covered with
the white and blue clad figures of their defenders, with a sour disdain.

After riding for a couple of hours, the staff halted for breakfast under
a shady tree by the banks of a clear and rapid stream.

Two hundred yards away we observed a large flight of teal sitting tamely
on the water. Every one became interested. Rifles there were in plenty;
but where could a gun be found? Rigorous and hasty search was made. The
political officer of the force, Mr. Davis, being consulted, eventually
produced a friendly khan, who was the owner of a shot gun. After further
delay this weapon was brought. The teal still floated unconcernedly on
the water. A gun awakened no sense of danger. Shots in plenty they
had heard in the valley, but they were not usually fired at birds. The
exciting moment now arrived. Who should shoot? The responsibility was
great. Many refused. At length Veterinary-Captain Mann, who was wounded
a few days later at Nawagai, volunteered. He took the gun and began a
painful stalk. He crawled along cautiously. We watched with suppressed
emotion. Suddenly two shots rang out. They were to be the first of many.
The men in the marching column 200 yards away became wide awake. The
teal rose hurriedly and flew away, but four remained behind, killed or
wounded. These birds we picked up with a satisfaction which was fully
justified by their excellence that night at dinner.

Another mile or so brought us to the Watelai River, a stream about
thirty yards broad, which flows into the Jandul, and thence into the
Panjkora. Crossing this and climbing the opposite bank, the troops
debouched on to the wide level plateau of Khar, perhaps ten miles across
and sixteen in length. Standing on the high ground, the great dimensions
of the valley were displayed. Looking westward it was possible to see
the hills behind the Panjkora, the sites of the former camps, and
the entrance of the subsidiary valley of the Jandul. In front, at
the further end, an opening in the mountain range showed the pass of
Nawagai. Towering on the left was the great mass of the Koh-i-mohr, or
"Mountain of Peacocks"--a splendid peak, some 8000 feet high, the top of
which is visible from both Peshawar and Malakand. Its name is possibly
a corruption. Arrian calls it Mount Meros. At its base the city of Nysa
stood in former times, and among many others fell before the arms of
Alexander. Its inhabitants, in begging for peace, boasted that they
conducted their government "with constitutional order," and that "ivy,
which did not grow in the rest of India, grew among them." City, ivy,
and constitutional order have alike disappeared. The mountain alone
remains. A little to the northward the Ramlat Pass was distinguishable.
On the right the smooth plain appeared to flow into the hill country,
and a wide bay in the mountains, roughly circular in shape and nearly
twelve miles across, opened out of the valley. The prominent spurs which
ran from the hills formed many dark ravines and deep hollows, as it were
gulfs and inlets of the sea. The entrance was perhaps a mile broad. I
remember that, when I first looked into the valley, the black clouds
of a passing storm hung gloomily over all, and filled it with a hazy
half-light that contrasted with the brilliant sunshine outside. It was
the Watelai, or as we got to call it later--the Mamund Valley.

The Khan of Khar met the general on the farther bank of the river. He
was a tall, fine-looking man with bright eyes, bushy black whiskers and
white teeth, which his frequent smiles displayed. He was richly dressed,
attended by a dozen horsemen and mounted on a handsome, though vicious
dun horse. He saluted Sir Bindon Blood with great respect and ceremony.
Some conversation took place, conducted, as the khan only spoke Pushtu,
through the political officer. The khan asserted his loyalty and that
of his neighbour the Khan of Jar. He would, he said, do his utmost to
secure the peaceful passage of the troops. Such supplies as they might
need, he would provide, as far as his resources would go. He looked with
some alarm at the long lines of marching men and animals. The general
reassured him. If the forces were not interfered with or opposed, if the
camps were not fired into at night, if stragglers were not cut off and
cut up by his people, payment in cash would be made for all the grain
and wood it was necessary to requisition.

The khan accepted this promise with gratitude and relief, and henceforth
during the operations which took place at Nawagai and in the Mamund
Valley, he preserved a loyal and honourable behaviour. To the best of
his power he restrained his young bloods. As much as he was able, he
used his influence to discourage the other tribes from joining the
revolt. Every night his pickets watched our camps, and much good sleep
was obtained by weary men in consequence. At the end of the fighting he
was the intermediary between the Government and the Mamund tribesmen.
And on one occasion he rendered a signal service, though one which
should hardly have been entrusted to him, by escorting with his own
retainers an ammunition convoy to the 2nd Brigade, when troops and
cartridges were alike few and sorely needed. Had he proved treacherous
in this instance the consequences might have been most grave.
Throughout, however, he kept his word with the general, and that in the
face of opposition from his own people, and threats of vengeance from
his neighbours.

He on his part will not complain of British good faith. Although the
fighting was continued in the district for nearly a month, not one of
his villages was burnt, while all damage done to his crops was liberally
compensated. He was guaranteed against reprisals, and at the end of the
operations the gift of a considerable sum of money proved to him that
the Sirkar could reward its friends, as well as punish its enemies.

The camel transport of the 3rd Brigade lagged on the road, and the
troops, tired after their long march, had to wait in the blazing sun for
a couple of hours without shelter until the baggage came up. At length
it arrived, and we proceeded to camp as far as is possible without
tents. Shelters were improvised from blankets, from waterproof sheets
supported on sticks, or from the green boughs of some adjacent trees.
Beneath these scanty coverings the soldiers lay, and waited for the
evening.

Every one has read of the sufferings of the British troops in having to
campaign in the hot weather during the Indian Mutiny. September in these
valleys is as hot as it is easy to imagine or elegant to describe, and
the exposure to the sun tells severely on the British battalions, as
the hospital returns show. Of course, since Mutiny days, many salutary
changes have been made in the dress and equipment of the soldier. The
small cap with its insufficient puggaree is replaced by the pith helmet,
the shade of which is increased by a long quilted covering. The high
stock and thick, tight uniforms are gone, and a cool and comfortable
khaki kit has been substituted. A spine protector covers the back, and
in other ways rational improvements have been effected. But the sun
remains unchanged, and all precautions only minimise, without preventing
the evils.

Slowly the hours pass away. The heat is intense. The air glitters over
the scorched plain, as over the funnel of an engine. The wind blows with
a fierce warmth, and instead of bringing relief, raises only whirling
dust devils, which scatter the shelters and half-choke their occupants.
The water is tepid, and fails to quench the thirst. At last the shadows
begin to lengthen, as the sun sinks towards the western mountains.
Every one revives. Even the animals seem to share the general feeling of
relief. The camp turns out to see the sunset and enjoy the twilight. The
feelings of savage hatred against the orb of day fade from our minds,
and we strive to forget that he will be ready at five o'clock next
morning to begin the torment over again.

As there were still several days to spare before the Malakand Field
Force was due to enter the Mohmand country, Sir Bindon Blood ordered
both brigades to remain halted on the 13th: the 3rd Brigade at Shumshuk;
the 2nd at Jar. Meanwhile two reconnaissances were to be sent, one to
the summit of the Rambat Pass, and the other up the Watelai Valley.

The night of the 12th was the first occasion of "sniping," since the
advance against the Mohmands had begun. About half a dozen shots were
fired into camp, without other result than to disturb light sleepers.
Still it marked a beginning.

The reconnaissances started next morning. The general accompanied the
one to the Rambat pass, to satisfy himself as to the nature of the
unexplored country on the other side. Two companies of infantry were
ordered to clear the way, and two others remained in support half-way
up the pass. Sir Bindon Blood started at six o'clock accompanied by
his escort, whose gay pennons combined, with the Union Jack of the
Headquarters staff, to add a dash of colour to the scene. After riding
for a couple of miles we caught up the infantry and had to halt, to let
them get on ahead and work through the broken ground and scrub. A mile
further it was necessary to dismount and proceed on foot. No opposition
was encountered, though the attitude and demeanour of the natives was
most unfriendly. The younger ones retired to the hills. The elder
stayed to scowl at, and even curse us. The village cemetery was full
of property of all kinds, beds, pitchers, and bags of grain, which
the inhabitants had deposited there under the double delusion, that we
wanted to plunder, and that in so sacred a spot it would be safe--were
such our intention. In spite of their black looks, they were eventually
all made to stand up and salute respectfully.

The climb was a stiff one and took at least an hour. But the track was
everywhere passable, or capable of easily being made passable for mules.
The general, trained and hardened by years of shooting of all kinds in
the jungles, arrived at the top first, followed by Brigadier-General
Wodehouse, and a panting staff. A fine view of the Ambasar Valley was
displayed. It was of arid aspect. Villages in plenty could be seen,
but no sign of water. This was serious, as information as to wells was
unreliable, and it was desirable to see some tanks and streams, before
allowing a column to plunge into the unknown dangers of the valley.
After some consideration Sir Bindon Blood decided to modify the original
plan and send only two battalions of the 2nd Brigade with one squadron
over the pass, while the rest were to march to join him at Nawagai. We
then returned, reaching camp in time for luncheon.

Meanwhile the reconnaissance up the Watelai or Mamund Valley had been
of a more interesting nature. Two squadrons of the 11th Bengal Lancers,
under Major Beatson, and with Mr. Davis, the political officer, were
sent to put some pressure on the Mamunds, to make them carry out the
terms agreed upon. They had promised to surrender fifty rifles. This
they now showed no intention of doing. They had realised, that the
brigades were only marching through the country, and that they had no
time to stop, and they were determined to keep their arms as long as
possible.

As the cavalry approached the first village, about 300 men gathered
and, displaying standards, called on the Lancers to stop. An altercation
ensued. They were given half an hour to remove their women and children.
Then the squadrons advanced. The tribesmen, still menacing, retired
slowly towards the hills. Then a small party came up and informed Major
Beatson, that in the next village was a troop-horse, which had been
captured in the fighting in the Swat Valley. This admission, that
the Mamunds had been implicated in the attack on the Malakand, was
sufficiently naive. The cavalry rode on to the village. The horse was
not to be found, but the officious informers from the first village
eagerly pointed out where it had been stabled. In consequence of this
information, and to stimulate the tribesmen to carry out the original
terms, Mr. Davis decided to make an example and authorised Major Beatson
to destroy the house of the owner of the stolen property. This was
accordingly done. As soon as the smoke began to rise, the tribesmen, who
had waited, half a mile away, opened a dropping fire from Martini-Henry
rifles on the cavalry. These, not wishing to engage, retired at a trot.
They were followed up, but though the fire was well directed, the range
was too great for accurate shooting and the bullets whizzed harmlessly
overhead.

As the Lancers left the valley, an incident occurred which illustrates
what has been said in an earlier chapter, and is characteristic of the
daily life of the natives. The people of the first village had directed
the attention of the cavalry to the second. Part of the second had been
in consequence burnt. The inhabitants of both turned out to discuss the
matter with rifles and, when last seen that night, were engaged in
a lively skirmish. Apparently, however, they soon forgot their
differences.

The rumour that the cavalry had been fired on preceded them to camp,
and the prospects of some opposition were everywhere hailed with
satisfaction. Many had begun to think that the Mohmand expedition was
going to be a mere parade, and that the tribesmen were overawed by the
powerful forces employed. They were soon to be undeceived. I watched the
squadrons return. Behind them the Mamund Valley was already dark with
the shadows of the evening and the heavy clouds that had hung over it
all day. They were vastly pleased with themselves. Nothing in life is
so exhilarating as to be shot at without result. The sowars sat their
horses with conscious pride. Some of the younger officers still showed
the flush of excitement on their cheeks. But they pretended excellently
well to have forgotten all about the matter. They believed a few fellows
had "sniped" at them; that was all.

But it was by no means all. Whatever is the Afhgan equivalent of the
"Fiery Cross" was circulated among the tribes. There was no time for
them to gather to attack that night, and the situation of the camp in
the open was unsuited to night firing. The other brigade was coming.
They would wait. They therefore contented themselves with firing
occasional shots, beginning while we were at dinner, and continuing at
intervals until daylight. No one was hurt, but we may imagine that the
tribesmen, who spent the night prowling about the nullahs, and firing
from time to time, returned to their countrymen next morning boasting
of what they had done. "Alone, while ye all slumbered and slept, in
the night, in the darkness, I, even I, have attacked the camp of the
accursed ones and have slain a Sahib. Is it not so, my brothers?"
Whereupon the brothers, hoping he would some day corroborate a lie for
them, replied, that it was undoubtedly so, and that he had deserved well
of the tribe. Such is the reward of the "sniper."

Early next morning the 3rd Brigade and three squadrons of the 11th
Bengal Lancers moved on to Nawagai and crossed the pass without
opposition. The general and Headquarters staff accompanied them, and we
found ourselves in a wide and extensive valley, on the far side of which
the Bedmanai Pass could be plainly seen. Here, at last, we got definite
information of the Mohmands' intentions. The Hadda Mullah with 1000
tribesmen had gathered to oppose the further advance. After all there
would be a fight. In the evening Sir Bindon Blood, taking a squadron
of cavalry, rode out to reconnoitre the approaches to the pass and the
general configuration of the ground. On his return he sent a despatch
to the Government of India, that he would force it on the 18th. The
soldiers, especially the British troops, who had not yet been engaged,
eagerly looked forward to the approaching action. But events were
destined to a different course.

It was already dusk when we returned from the reconnaissance. The
evening was pleasant and we dined in the open air. Still the valley was
very dark. The mountains showed a velvet black. Presently the moon rose.
I repress the inclination to try to describe the beauty of the scene,
as the valley was swiftly flooded with that mysterious light. All
the suitable words have probably been employed many times by numerous
writers and skipped by countless readers. Indeed I am inclined to think,
that these elaborate descriptions convey little to those who have not
seen, and are unnecessary to those who have. Nature will not be admired
by proxy. In times of war, however, especially of frontier war, the
importance of the moon is brought home to everybody. "What time does it
rise to-night?" is the question that recurs; for other things--attacks,
"sniping," rushes,--besides the tides are influenced by its movements.

Meanwhile, as at Nawagai, at a peaceful camp and a quiet dinner we
watched the "silvery maiden" swiftly appear over the eastern mountains.
She was gazing on a different scene eleven miles away, in the valley we
had left.

The 2nd Brigade had marched that morning from Jar to the foot of
the Rambat Pass, which it was intended to cross the next day.
Brigadier-General Jefferys, in anticipation of this movement, sent the
Buffs up to hold the Kotal, and camped at the foot with the rest of his
force. The situation of the camp, which had been adopted with a view to
the advance at daybreak, favored the approach of an enemy. The ground
was broken and intersected by numerous small and tortuous nullahs, and
strewn with rocks. Any other site would, however, have necessitated a
long march the next day, and no attack was thought likely.

At 8.15, as the officers were finishing dinner, three shots rang out in
the silence. They were a signal. Instantly brisk firing broke out from
the nullahs on the face of the square occupied by the Guides Infantry.
Bullets whistled all about the camp, ripping through the tents and
killing and wounding the animals.

The Guides returned the fire with steadiness, and, as the shelter trench
they had dug in front of their section of the line was higher than at
other parts, no officers or men were hit. At ten o'clock a bugler among
the enemy sounded the "Retire," and the fire dwindled to a few dropping
shots. All were congratulating themselves on a termination of the event,
when at 10.30 the attack was renewed with vigour on the opposite side of
the camp, occupied by the 38th Dogras. The enemy, who were largely armed
with Martini-Henry rifles, crept up to within 100 yards of the trenches.
These were only about eighteen inches high, but afforded sufficient
cover to the soldiers. The officers, with a splendid disregard of the
danger, exposed themselves freely. Walking coolly up and down in the
brilliant moonlight they were excellent targets. The brigadier proceeded
himself to the threatened side of the camp, to control the firing and
prevent the waste of ammunition. A good many thousand rounds were,
however, fired away without much result. Several star shells were also
fired by the battery. The ground was so broken that they revealed very
little, but the tribesmen were alarmed by the smell they made, thinking
it a poisonous gas. The officers were directed to take cover, but the
necessity of sending messages and regulating the fire involved a great
deal of exposure. And to all who showed above the trench the danger was
great. Captain Tomkins of the 38th Dogras was shot through the heart,
and a few minutes later the adjutant of the regiment, Lieutenant Bailey,
was also killed. In assisting to take these officers to the hospital,
where a rough shelter of boxes had been improvised, Lieutenant
Harington, an officer attached to the Dogras, received a bullet in the
back of the head, which penetrated his brain and inflicted injuries from
which he died subsequently. All tents were struck and as much cover as
could be made from grain-bags and biscuit-boxes was arranged. At 2.15
the firing ceased and the enemy drew off, taking their killed and
wounded with them. They had no mind to be surprised by daylight, away
from their hills. But they had already remained a little too long.

As soon as the light allowed, the cavalry squadron under Captain Cole
started in pursuit. After a long gallop down the valley, he caught one
party making for the mountains. Charging immediately, he succeeded in
spearing twenty-one of these before they could reach the rocks. The
squadron then dismounted and opened fire with their carbines. But the
tribesmen turned at once and made a dash in the direction of the
led horses. A sowar was wounded and a couple of horses killed. The
cavalrymen, threatened in a vital point, ran hurriedly back, and just
got into their saddles in time. In the haste of mounting four horses got
loose and galloped away, leaving six dismounted men. Captain Cole placed
one of them before him on the saddle, and the troopers followed his
example. The squadron thus encumbered, retired, and after getting out of
range, succeeded in catching their loose horses again. The enemy, seeing
the cavalry mounted once more, took refuge on the hills. But it was
evident, they were eager for fighting.

The casualties in the night attack of Markhanai were as follows:--

                      BRITISH OFFICERS.
   Killed--Capt. W.E. Tomkins, 38th Dogras.
     "     Lieut. A.W. Bailey, 38th Dogras.
   Died of wounds--Lieut. H.A. Harington, attd. 38th Dogras.

                      NATIVE OFFICER.
   Wounded.........   1

                      NATIVE SOLDIERS.
                                          Killed.  Wounded.
   No.8 Mountain Battery....    1         1
   35th Sikhs.......    1         3
   38th Dogras.......    1         0
   Guides Infantry......    0         1
   Followers.......    2         2
       Total Casualties, 16; and 98 horses and mules.


Meanwhile, the 3rd Brigade had passed a tranquil night at Nawagai. Next
morning, however, at about six o'clock, a message was heliographed from
the Buffs on the Rambat Pass, to the effect that an attack had been made
on General Jeffreys' camp; that heavy firing had continued all night,
and that several officers were among the casualties. This news set every
one agog. While we were breakfasting, a native officer and ten sowars of
the 11th Bengal Lancers arrived at speed with full details: six hours'
fighting with the Mamunds: three officers killed or mortally wounded;
and nearly a hundred animals hit. In consequence of this information,
Sir Bindon Blood cancelled the orders for the passage of the Rambat
Pass and instructed General Jeffreys to enter the Mamund Valley and
thoroughly chastise the tribesmen.

I was allowed to go back with the native officer's escort to the 2nd
Brigade, in order to witness the operations which had been ordered.
Judiciously selecting a few things, which could be carried on the
saddle, of which the most important were a cloak, some chocolate and a
tooth-brush, I hurried after the escort, who had already started, and
overtook them just as they had got through the pass of Nawagai.

For the first six miles the road lay through a network of deep ravines,
through which the troopers picked their way very carefully. It would
have been a bad place for a small party to have been attacked in, but
fortunately, though several armed tribesmen were seen, they did not fire
at us. At one point the route lay through a deep nullah, along which
some of the assailants of the night before had retired. These were
probably from the Charmanga Valley. They had evidently suffered losses.
Several native beds on which wounded men had been carried lay scattered
about. At this place they had probably found some oxen, to which they
had transferred their bodies. At length we got clear of the difficult
ground, and entering the smooth plain of Nawagai looked out eagerly for
the brigade. Seven miles away across the valley was a long brown streak.
It was the troops marching from Markhanai to the entrance of the Mamund
Valley. The smoke of five burning villages rose in a tall column into
the air--blue against the mountains, brown against the sky. An hour's
riding brought us to the brigade. Every one was full of the events of
the night, and all looked worn from having had no sleep. "You were very
lucky to be out of it," they said. "There's plenty more coming."

The cavalry soon returned from their pursuit. The points of their lances
were covered with dark smears. A sowar displayed his weapon proudly to
some Sikhs, who grinned in appreciation. "How many?" was the question
asked on all sides. "Twenty-one," replied the officer. "But they're full
of fight."

Orders were now issued for the brigade to camp on the open ground near
Inayat Kila, which, translated, means Fort Grant, and is the name of a
considerable stone stronghold belonging to the Khan of Khar. Although
the troops were very tired from their march, and the fighting of the
preceding night, they began entrenching with alacrity. Besides making
an outer wall to the camp, about three and a half feet high, everybody
scratched a little hole for himself. In these occupations the afternoon
passed.

The Buffs came in at sunset, having marched from the top of the Rambat
Pass. They had heard the firing of the night and were disappointed at
having been absent. It was "just their luck," they said. During the
Chitral campaign of 1895, they had had the ill-fortune to miss every
engagement. It would be the same now. All tried to reassure them. As
soon as it was dark an attack was probable.

A dropping fire began after dinner from the great nullah to the north
of the camp, and all lights were put out and the tents struck. Every one
retired to the soup-plate he had scooped in the earth. But no attack
was made. The enemy had informed the political officer through the
friendlies, that they were weary and would rest that night. They sent
a few "snipers" to fire into the camp, and these kept up a desultory
fusillade until about two o'clock, when they drew off.

Those who had been deprived of their rest the night before soon dropped
off to sleep, in spite of the firing. Others, not overpowered by
weariness, found no occupation but to lie in their holes and contemplate
the stars--those impartial stars which shine as calmly on Piccadilly
Circus as on Inayat Kila.





CHAPTER XI: THE ACTION OF THE MAMUND VALLEY, 16TH SEPTEMBER


    Sound as of bugle in camp, how it rings through the chill air of
       morning,
    Bidding the soldier arise, he must wake and be armed ere the
       light.
    Firm be your faith and your feet, when the sun's burning rays shall
       be o'er you.
    When the rifles are ranging in line, and the clear note of battle is
       blown.

                               "A Sermon in Lower Bengal," SIR A. LYALL.



The story has now reached a point which I cannot help regarding as its
climax. The action of the Mamund Valley is recalled to me by so many
vivid incidents and enduring memories, that it assumes an importance
which is perhaps beyond its true historic proportions. Throughout
the reader must make allowances for what I have called the personal
perspective. Throughout he must remember, how small is the scale of
operations. The panorama is not filled with masses of troops. He will
not hear the thunder of a hundred guns. No cavalry brigades whirl by
with flashing swords. No infantry divisions are applied at critical
points. The looker-on will see only the hillside, and may, if he watches
with care, distinguish a few brown clad men moving slowly about it,
dwarfed almost to invisibility by the size of the landscape. I hope to
take him close enough, to see what these men are doing and suffering;
what their conduct is and what their fortunes are. But I would ask him
to observe that, in what is written, I rigidly adhere to my role of a
spectator. If by any phrase or sentence I am found to depart from this,
I shall submit to whatever evil things the ingenuity of malice may
suggest.

On the morning of the 16th, in pursuance of Sir Bindon Blood's orders,
Brigadier-General Jeffreys moved out of his entrenched camp at Inayat
Kila, and entered the Mamund Valley. His intentions were, to chastise
the tribesmen by burning and blowing up all defensible villages within
reach of the troops. It was hoped, that this might be accomplished in a
single day, and that the brigade, having asserted its strength, would be
able to march on the 17th to Nawagai and take part in the attack on the
Bedmanai Pass, which had been fixed for the 18th. Events proved this
hope to be vain, but it must be remembered, that up to this time no
serious opposition had been offered by the tribesmen to the columns,
and that no news of any gathering had been reported to the general.
The valley appeared deserted. The villages looked insignificant and
defenceless. It was everywhere asserted that the enemy would not stand.

Reveille sounded at half-past five, and at six o'clock the brigade
marched out. In order to deal with the whole valley at once, the force
was divided into three columns, to which were assigned the following
tasks:--

I. The right column, under Lieut.-Col. Vivian, consisting of the 38th
Dogras and some sappers, was ordered to attack the village of Domodoloh.
II. The centre column, under Colonel Goldney, consisting of six
companies Buffs, six companies 35th Sikhs, a half-company sappers,
four guns of No.8 Mountain Battery and the squadron of the 11th Bengal
Lancers, was ordered to proceed to the head of the valley, and destroy
the villages of Badelai and Shahi-Tangi (pronounced Shytungy). III. The
left column, under Major Campbell, consisting of five companies of the
Guides Infantry, and some sappers, was directed against several villages
at the western end of the valley.

Two guns and two companies from each battalion were left to protect
the camp, and a third company of the Guides was detached to protect the
survey party. This reduced the strength of the infantry in the field to
twenty-three companies, or slightly over 1200 men. Deducting the 300 men
of the 38th Dogras who were not engaged, the total force employed in the
action was about 1000 men of all arms.

It will be convenient to deal with the fortunes of the right column
first. Lieut.-Colonel Vivian, after a march of six miles, arrived before
the village of Domodoloh at about 9 A.M. He found it strongly held by
the enemy, whose aspect was so formidable, that he did not consider
himself strong enough to attack without artillery and supports, and with
prudence returned to camp, which he reached about 4 P.M. Two men were
wounded by long-range fire.

The centre column advanced covered by Captain Cole's squadron of
Lancers, to which I attached myself. At about seven o'clock we observed
the enemy on a conical hill on the northern slopes of the valley.
Through the telescope, an instrument often far more useful to cavalry
than field-glasses, it was possible to distinguish their figures. Long
lines of men clad in blue or white, each with his weapon upright beside
him, were squatting on the terraces. Information was immediately sent
back to Colonel Goldney. The infantry, eager for action, hurried their
march. The cavalry advanced to within 1000 yards of the hills. For some
time the tribesmen sat and watched the gradual deployment of the troops,
which was developing in the plain below them. Then, as the guns and
infantry approached, they turned and began slowly to climb the face of
the mountain.

In hopes of delaying them or inducing them to fight, the cavalry now
trotted to within closer range, and dismounting, opened fire at 7.30
precisely. It was immediately returned. From high up the hillside, from
the cornfields at the base, and from the towers of the villages, little
puffs of smoke darted. The skirmish continued for an hour without much
damage to either side, as the enemy were well covered by the broken
ground and the soldiers by the gravestones and trees of a cemetery. Then
the infantry began to arrive. The Buffs had been detached from Colonel
Goldney's column and were moving against the village of Badelai. The
35th Sikhs proceeded towards the long ridge, round the corner of
which Shahi-Tangi stands. As they crossed our front slowly--and rather
wearily, for they were fatigued by the rapid marching--the cavalry
mounted and rode off in quest of more congenial work with the
cavalryman's weapon--the lance. I followed the fortunes of the Sikhs.
Very little opposition was encountered. A few daring sharpshooters fired
at the leading companies from the high corn. Others fired long-range
shots from the mountains. Neither caused any loss. Colonel Goldney now
ordered one and a half companies, under Captain Ryder, to clear the
conical hill, and protect the right of the regiment from the fire--from
the mountains. These men, about seventy-five in number, began climbing
the steep slope; nor did I see them again till much later in the day.
The remaining four and a half companies continued to advance. The line
lay through high crops on terraces, rising one above the other. The
troops toiled up these, clearing the enemy out of a few towers they
tried to hold. Half a company was left with the dressing station near
the cemetery, and two more were posted as supports at the bottom of the
hills. The other two commenced the ascent of the long spur which leads
to Shahi-Tangi.

It is impossible to realise without seeing, how very slowly troops move
on hillsides. It was eleven o'clock before the village was reached.
The enemy fell back "sniping," and doing hardly any damage. Everybody
condemned their pusillanimity in making off without a fight. Part of the
village and some stacks of bhoosa, a kind of chopped straw, were set on
fire, and the two companies prepared to return to camp.

But at about eight the cavalry patrols had reported the enemy in great
strength at the northwest end of the valley. In consequence of this
Brigadier-General Jeffreys ordered the Guides Infantry to join the main
column. [Copy of message showing the time:--"To Officer, Commanding
Guides Infantry.--Despatched 8.15 A.M. Received 8.57 A.M. Enemy
collecting at Kanra; come up at once on Colonel Goldney's left. C.
Powell, Major, D.A.Q.M.G."] Major Campbell at once collected his men,
who were engaged in foraging, and hurried towards Colonel Goldney's
force. After a march of five miles, he came in contact with the enemy
in strength on his left front, and firing at once became heavy. At
the sound of the musketry the Buffs were recalled from the village of
Badelai and also marched to support the 35th Sikhs.

While both these regiments were hurrying to the scene, the sound of loud
firing first made us realise that our position at the head of the spur
near Shahi-Tangi was one of increasing danger. The pressure on the left
threatened the line of retreat, and no supports were available within a
mile. A retirement was at once ordered. Up to this moment hardly any of
the tribesmen had been seen. It appeared as if the retirement of the
two companies was the signal for their attack. I am inclined to think,
however, that this was part of the general advance of the enemy, and
that even had no retirement been ordered the advanced companies would
have been assailed. In any case the aspect of affairs immediately
changed. From far up the hillsides men came running swiftly down,
dropping from ledge to ledge, and dodging from rock to rock. The
firing increased on every hand. Half a company was left to cover the
withdrawal. The Sikhs made excellent practice on the advancing enemy,
who approached by twos and threes, making little rushes from one patch
of cover to another. At length a considerable number had accumulated
behind some rocks about a hundred yards away. The firing now became
heavy and the half-company, finding its flank threatened, fell back to
the next position.

A digression is necessary to explain the peculiar configuration of the
ground.

The spur, at the top of which the village stands, consists of three
rocky knolls, each one higher than the other, as the main hill is
approached. These are connected by open necks of ground, which are
commanded by fire from both flanks. In section the ground resembles a
switchback railway.

The first of these knolls was evacuated without loss, and the open space
to the next quickly traversed. I think a couple of men fell here, and
were safely carried away. The second knoll was commanded by the first,
on to which the enemy climbed, and from which they began firing. Again
the companies retired. Lieutenant Cassells remained behind with about
eight men, to hold the knoll until the rest had crossed the open space.
As soon as they were clear they shouted to him to retire. He gave the
order.

Till this time the skirmishing of the morning might have afforded
pleasure to the neuropath, experience to the soldier, "copy" to the
journalist. Now suddenly black tragedy burst upon the scene, and all
excitement died out amid a multitude of vivid trifles. As Lieutenant
Cassells rose to leave the knoll, he turned sharply and fell on the
ground. Two Sepoys immediately caught hold of him. One fell shot through
the leg. A soldier who had continued firing sprang into the air, and,
falling, began to bleed with strange and terrible rapidity from his
mouth and chest. Another turned on his back kicking and twisting. A
fourth lay quite still. Thus in the time it takes to write half the
little party were killed or wounded. The enemy had worked round both
flanks and had also the command. Their fire was accurate.

Two officers, the subadar major, by name Mangol Singh, and three or
four Sepoys ran forward from the second knoll, to help in carrying the
wounded off. Before they reached the spot, two more men were hit. The
subadar major seized Lieutenant Cassells, who was covered with blood and
unable to stand, but anxious to remain in the firing line. The others
caught hold of the injured and began dragging them roughly over the
sharp rocks in spite of their screams and groans. Before we had gone
thirty yards from the knoll, the enemy rushed on to it, and began
firing. Lieutenant Hughes, the adjutant of the regiment, and one of the
most popular officers on the frontier, was killed. The bullets passed in
the air with a curious sucking noise, like that produced by drawing the
air between the lips. Several men also fell. Lieut.-Colonel Bradshaw
ordered two Sepoys to carry the officer's body away. This they began to
do. Suddenly a scattered crowd of tribesmen rushed over the crest of
the hill and charged sword in hand, hurling great stones. It became
impossible to remain an impassive spectator. Several of the wounded were
dropped. The subadar major stuck to Lieutenant Cassells, and it is to
him the lieutenant owes his life. The men carrying the other officer,
dropped him and fled. The body sprawled upon the ground. A tall man in
dirty white linen pounced down upon it with a curved sword. It was a
horrible sight.

Had the swordsmen charged home, they would have cut everybody down. But
they did not. These wild men of the mountains were afraid of closing.
The retirement continued. Five or six times the two companies, now
concentrated, endeavoured to stand. Each time the tribesmen pressed
round both flanks. They had the whole advantage of ground, and
commanded, as well as out-flanked the Sikhs. At length the bottom of the
spur was reached, and the remainder of the two companies turned to bay
in the nullah with fixed bayonets. The tribesmen came on impetuously,
but stopped thirty yards away, howling, firing and waving their swords.

No other troops were in sight, except our cavalry, who could be seen
retiring in loose squadron column--probably after their charge. They
could give no assistance. The Buffs were nearly a mile away. Things
looked grave. Colonel Goldney himself tried to re-form the men. The
Sikhs, who now numbered perhaps sixty, were hard pressed, and fired
without effect. Then some one--who it was is uncertain--ordered the
bugler to sound the "charge." The shrill notes rang out not once but a
dozen times. Every one began to shout. The officers waved their swords
frantically. Then the Sikhs commenced to move slowly forward towards
the enemy, cheering. It was a supreme moment. The tribesmen turned, and
began to retreat. Instantly the soldiers opened a steady fire, shooting
down their late persecutors with savage energy.

Then for the first time, I perceived that the repulse was general along
the whole front. What I have described was only an incident. But the
reader may learn from the account the explanation of many of our losses
in the frontier war. The troops, brave and well-armed, but encumbered
with wounded, exhausted by climbing and overpowered by superior force,
had been ordered to retire. This is an operation too difficult for a
weak force to accomplish. Unless supports are at hand, they must be
punished severely, and the small covering parties, who remain to check
the enemy, will very often be cut to pieces, or shot down. Afterwards
in the Mamund Valley whole battalions were employed to do what these two
Sikh companies had attempted. But Sikhs need no one to bear witness to
their courage.

During the retirement down the spur, I was unable to observe the general
aspect of the action, and now in describing it, I have dealt only with
the misadventures of one insignificant unit. It is due to the personal
perspective. While the two advanced companies were being driven down
the hill, a general attack was made along the whole left front of
the brigade, by at least 2000 tribesmen, most of whom were armed with
rifles. To resist this attack there were the cavalry, the two supporting
companies of the 35th Sikhs and five of the Guides Infantry, who were
arriving. All became engaged. Displaying their standards, the enemy
advanced with great courage in the face of a heavy fire. Many were
killed and wounded, but they continued to advance, in a long skirmish
line, on the troops. One company of the 35th became seriously involved.
Seeing this, Captain Cole moved his squadron forward, and though
the ground was broken, charged. The enemy took refuge in the nullah,
tumbling into it standards and all, and opened a sharp fire on the
cavalry at close range, hitting several horses and men. The squadron
fell back. But the moral effect of their advance had been tremendous.
The whole attack came to a standstill. The infantry fire continued. Then
the tribesmen began to retire, and they were finally repulsed at about
twelve o'clock.

An opportunity was now presented of breaking off the action. The brigade
had started from camp divided, and in expectation that no serious
resistance would be offered. It had advanced incautiously. The leading
troops had been roughly handled. The enemy had delivered a vigorous
counter attack. That attack had been repulsed with slaughter, and the
brigade was concentrated. Considering the fatigues to which the infantry
had been exposed, it would perhaps have been more prudent to return to
camp and begin again next morning. But Brigadier-General Jeffries was
determined to complete the destruction of Shahi-Tangi, and to recover
the body of Lieutenant Hughes, which remained in the hands of the enemy.
It was a bold course. But it was approved by every officer in the force.

A second attack was ordered. The Guides were to hold the enemy in check
on the left. The Buffs, supported by the 35th Sikhs, were to take the
village. Orders were signalled back to camp for all the available
troops to reinforce the column in the field, and six fresh companies
consequently started. At one o'clock the advance recommenced, the guns
came into action on a ridge on the right of the brigade, and shelled the
village continuously.

Again the enemy fell back "sniping," and very few of them were to
be seen. But to climb the hill alone took two hours. The village was
occupied at three o'clock, and completely destroyed by the Buffs. At
3.30 orders reached them to return to camp, and the second withdrawal
began. Again the enemy pressed with vigour, but this time there were
ten companies on the spur instead of two, and the Buffs, who became
rear-guard, held everything at a distance with their Lee-Metford rifles.
At a quarter to five the troops were clear of the hills and we looked
about us.

While this second attack was being carried out, the afternoon had
slipped away. At about two o'clock Major Campbell and Captain Cole, both
officers of great experience on the frontier, had realised the fact,
that the debate with the tribesmen could not be carried to a conclusion
that day. At their suggestion a message was heliographed up to the
General's staff officer on the spur near the guns, as follows: "It
is now 2.30. Remember we shall have to fight our way home." But the
brigadier had already foreseen this possibility, and had, as described,
issued orders for the return march. These orders did not reach Captain
Ryder's company on the extreme right until they had become hard pressed
by the increasing attack of the enemy. Their wounded delayed their
retirement. They had pushed far up the mountain side, apparently with
the idea they were to crown the heights, and we now saw them two miles
away on the sky line hotly engaged.

While I was taking advantage of a temporary halt, to feed and water my
pony, Lieutenant MacNaghten of the 16th Lancers pointed them out to me,
and we watched them through our glasses. It was a strange sight. Little
figures running about confusedly, tiny puffs of smoke, a miniature
officer silhouetted against the sky waving his sword. It seemed
impossible to believe that they were fighting for their lives, or indeed
in any danger. It all looked so small and unreal. They were, however,
hard pressed, and had signalled that they were running out of
cartridges. It was then five o'clock, and the approach of darkness was
accelerated by the heavy thunderclouds which were gathering over the
northern mountains.

At about 3.30 the brigadier had ordered the Guides to proceed to Ryder's
assistance and endeavour to extricate his company. He directed Major
Campbell to use his own discretion. It was a difficult problem, but the
Guides and their leader were equal to it. They had begun the day on the
extreme left. They had hurried to the centre. Now they were ordered to
the extreme right. They had already marched sixteen miles, but they were
still fresh. We watched them defiling across the front, with admiration.
Meanwhile, the retirement of the brigade was delayed. It was necessary
that all units should support each other, and the troops had to wait
till the Guides had succeeded in extricating Ryder. The enemy now came
on in great strength from the north-western end of the valley, which had
been swarming with them all day, so that for the first time the action
presented a fine spectacle.

Across the broad plain the whole of the brigade was in echelon. On the
extreme right Ryder's company and the Guides Infantry were both severely
engaged. Half a mile away to the left rear the battery, the sappers and
two companies of the 35th Sikhs were slowly retiring. Still farther to
the left were the remainder of the 35th, and, at an interval of half a
mile, the Buffs. The cavalry protected the extreme left flank. This long
line of troops, who were visible to each other but divided by the deep
broad nullahs which intersected the whole plain, fell back slowly,
halting frequently to keep touch. Seven hundred yards away were the
enemy, coming on in a great half-moon nearly three miles long and firing
continually. Their fire was effective, and among other casualties at
this time Lieutenant Crawford, R.A., was killed. Their figures showed
in rows of little white dots. The darkness fell swiftly. The smoke
puffs became fire flashes. Great black clouds overspread the valley
and thunder began to roll. The daylight died away. The picture became
obscured, and presently it was pitch dark. All communication, all mutual
support, all general control now ceased. Each body of troops closed up
and made the best of their way to the camp, which was about seven miles
off. A severe thunderstorm broke overhead. The vivid lightning displayed
the marching columns and enabled the enemy to aim. Individual tribesmen
ran up, shouting insults, to within fifty yards of the Buffs and
discharged their rifles. They were answered with such taunts as the
limited Pushtu of the British soldier allows and careful volleys. The
troops displayed the greatest steadiness. The men were determined, the
officers cheery, the shooting accurate. At half-past eight the enemy
ceased to worry us. We thought we had driven them off, but they had
found a better quarry.

The last two miles to camp were painful. After the cessation of the
firing the fatigue of the soldiers asserted itself. The Buffs had been
marching and fighting continuously for thirteen hours. They had had no
food, except their early morning biscuit, since the preceding night.
The older and more seasoned amongst them laughed at their troubles,
declaring they would have breakfast, dinner and tea together when they
got home. The younger ones collapsed in all directions.

The officers carried their rifles. Such ponies and mules as were
available were laden with exhausted soldiers. Nor was this all. Other
troops had passed before us, and more than a dozen Sepoys of different
regiments were lying senseless by the roadside. All these were
eventually carried in by the rear-guard, and the Buffs reached camp at
nine o'clock.

Meanwhile, the Guides had performed a brilliant feat of arms, and had
rescued the remnants of the isolated company from the clutches of the
enemy. After a hurried march they arrived at the foot of the hill down
which Ryder's men were retiring. The Sikhs, utterly exhausted by the
exertions of the day, were in disorder, and in many cases unable from
extreme fatigue even to use their weapons. The tribesmen hung in a crowd
on the flanks and rear of the struggling company, firing incessantly and
even dashing in and cutting down individual soldiers. Both officers were
wounded. Lieutenant Gunning staggered down the hill unaided, struck in
three places by bullets and with two deep sword cuts besides. Weary,
outnumbered, surrounded on three sides, without unwounded officers or
cartridges, the end was only a matter of moments. All must have been cut
to pieces. But help was now at hand.

The Guides formed line, fixed bayonets and advanced at the double
towards the hill. At a short distance from its foot they halted and
opened a terrible and crushing fire upon the exulting enemy. The loud
detonations of their company volleys were heard and the smoke seen all
over the field, and on the left we wondered what was happening. The
tribesmen, sharply checked, wavered. The company continued its retreat.
Many brave deeds were done as the night closed in. Havildar Ali Gul, of
the Afridi Company of the Guides, seized a canvas cartridge carrier, a
sort of loose jacket with large pockets, filled it with ammunition
from his men's pouches, and rushing across the fire-swept space, which
separated the regiment from the Sikhs, distributed the precious packets
to the struggling men. Returning he carried a wounded native officer
on his back. Seeing this several Afridis in the Guides ran forward,
shouting and cheering, to the rescue, and other wounded Sikhs were saved
by their gallantry from a fearful fate. At last Ryder's company reached
the bottom of the hill and the survivors re-formed under cover of the
Guides.

These, thrown on their own resources, separated from the rest of the
brigade by darkness and distance and assailed on three sides by
the enemy, calmly proceeded to fight their way back to camp. Though
encumbered with many wounded and amid broken ground, they repulsed
every attack, and bore down all the efforts which the tribesmen made to
intercept their line of retreat. They reached camp at 9.30 in safety,
and not without honour. The skill and experience of their officers, the
endurance and spirit of the men, had enabled them to accomplish a task
which many had believed impossible, and their conduct in the action of
the Mamund Valley fills a brilliant page in the history of the finest
and most famous frontier regiment. [The gallantry of the two officers,
Captain Hodson and Lieut. Codrington, who commanded the two most exposed
companies, was the subject of a special mention in despatches, and
the whole regiment were afterwards complimented by Brigadier-General
Jeffreys on their fine performance.]

As the Buffs reached the camp the rain which had hitherto held off came
down. It poured. The darkness was intense. The camp became a sea of
mud. In expectation that the enemy would attack it, General Jeffreys had
signalled in an order to reduce the perimeter. The camp was therefore
closed up to half its original size.

Most of the tents had been struck and lay with the baggage piled in
confused heaps on the ground. Many of the transport animals were loose
and wandering about the crowded space. Dinner or shelter there was none.
The soldiers, thoroughly exhausted, lay down supperless in the slush.
The condition of the wounded was particularly painful. Among the tents
which had been struck were several of the field hospitals. In the
darkness and rain it was impossible to do more for the poor fellows than
to improve the preliminary dressings and give morphia injections, nor
was it till four o'clock on the next afternoon that the last were taken
out of the doolies.

After about an hour the rain stopped, and while the officers were
bustling about making their men get some food before they went to sleep,
it was realised that all the troops were not in camp. The general, the
battery, the sappers and four companies of infantry were still in
the valley. Presently we heard the firing of guns. They were being
attacked,--overwhelmed perhaps. To send them assistance was to risk more
troops being cut off. The Buffs who were dead beat, the Sikhs who had
suffered most severe losses, and the Guides who had been marching and
fighting all day, were not to be thought of. The 38th Dogras were,
however, tolerably fresh, and Colonel Goldney, who commanded in the
absence of the General, at once ordered four companies to parade and
march to the relief. Captain Cole volunteered to accompany them with a
dozen sowars. The horses were saddled. But the order was countermanded,
and no troops left the camp that night.

Whether this decision was justified or not the reader shall decide.
In the darkness and the broken ground it was probable the relief would
never have found the general. It was possible that getting involved
among the nullahs they would have been destroyed. The defenders of the
camp itself were none too many. The numbers of the enemy were unknown.
These were weighty reasons. On the other hand it seemed unsoldierly to
lie down to sleep while at intervals the booming of the guns reminded
us, that comrades were fighting for their lives a few miles away in the
valley.





CHAPTER XII: AT INAYAT KILA


   "Two thousand pounds of education
    Drops to a ten-rupee jezail.
 .  .  .  .  .  .
    Strike hard who cares. Shoot straight who can.
    The odds are on the cheaper man."

                                  RUDYARD KIPLING.



Half an hour before dawn on the 17th, the cavalry were mounted, and as
soon as the light was strong enough to find a way through the broken
ground, the squadron started in search of the missing troops. We had
heard no more of their guns since about two o'clock. We therefore
concluded they had beaten off the enemy. There might, of course, be
another reason for their silence. As we drew near Bilot, it was possible
to distinguish the figures of men moving about the walls and houses. The
advanced files rode cautiously forward. Suddenly they cantered up to the
wall and we knew some at least were alive. Captain Cole, turning to his
squadron, lifted his hand. The sowars, actuated by a common impulse,
rose in their stirrups and began to cheer. But there was no response.
Nor was this strange. The village was a shambles. In an angle of the
outside wall, protected on the third side by a shallow trench, were the
survivors of the fight. All around lay the corpses of men and mules. The
bodies of five or six native soldiers were being buried in a hurriedly
dug grave. It was thought that, as they were Mahommedans, their
resting-place would be respected by the tribesmen. [These bodies were
afterwards dug up and mutilated by the natives: a foul act which excited
the fury and indignation of soldiers of every creed in the force. I draw
the reader's attention to this unpleasant subject, only to justify what
I have said in an earlier chapter of the degradation of mind in which
the savages of the mountains are sunk.] Eighteen wounded men lay side by
side in a roofless hut. Their faces, drawn by pain and anxiety, looked
ghastly in the pale light of the early morning. Two officers, one with
his left hand smashed, the other shot through both legs, were patiently
waiting for the moment when the improvised tourniquets could be removed
and some relief afforded to their sufferings. The brigadier, his khaki
coat stained with the blood from a wound on his head, was talking to
his only staff-officer, whose helmet displayed a bullet-hole. The most
ardent lover of realism would have been satisfied. Food, doolies, and
doctors soon arrived. The wounded were brought to the field hospitals to
be attended to. The unwounded hurried back to camp to get breakfast and
a bath. In half an hour, the ill-omened spot was occupied only by the
few sowars engaged in shooting the wounded mules, and by the vultures
who watched the proceedings with an expectant interest.

Gradually we learnt the story of the night. The battery, about thirty
sappers and half the 35th Sikhs, were returning to camp. At about seven
o'clock an order was sent for them to halt and remain out all night, to
assist the Guides Infantry, whose firing could be heard and for whose
safety the brigadier was above all things anxious. This order reached
the battery, and with the sappers as an escort they turned back,
recrossed a nullah and met the general with two companies of Sikhs
outside the village of Bilot. The half-battalion of the 35th did not
apparently receive the order, for they continued their march. Lieutenant
Wynter, R.A., was sent back to look for them. He did not find them,
but fell in with four fresh companies, two of the Guides and two of the
35th, who, under Major Worlledge, had been sent from camp in response to
the general's demand for reinforcements. Lieutenant Wynter brought these
back, as an escort to the guns. On arrival at the village, the brigadier
at once sent them to the assistance of the Guides. He counted on his own
two companies of Sikhs. But when Worlledge had moved off and had
already vanished in the night, it was found that these two companies had
disappeared. They had lost touch in the darkness, and, not perceiving
that the general had halted, had gone on towards camp. Thus the battery
was left with no other escort than thirty sappers.

A party of twelve men of the Buffs now arrived, and the circumstances
which led them to the guns are worth recording. When the Buffs were
retiring through the villages, they held a Mahommedan cemetery for
a little while, in order to check the enemy's advance. Whilst there,
Lieutenant Byron, Orderly Officer to General Jeffreys, rode up and told
Major Moody, who commanded the rear companies, that a wounded officer
was lying in a dooly a hundred yards up the road, without any escort. He
asked for a few men. Moody issued an order, and a dozen soldiers under
a corporal started to look for the dooly. They missed it, but while
searching, found the general and the battery outside the village. The
presence of these twelve brave men--for they fully maintained the honour
of their regiment--with their magazine rifles, just turned the scale.
Had not the luck of the British army led them to the village, it can
hardly be doubted, and certainly was not doubted by any who were there,
that the guns would have been captured and the general killed. Fortune,
especially in war, uses tiny fulcra for her powerful lever.

The general now ordered the battery and sappers to go into the village,
but it was so full of burning bhoosa, that this was found to be
impossible, and they set to work to entrench themselves outside. The
village was soon full of the enemy. From the walls and houses, which
on two sides commanded the space occupied by the battery, they began to
fire at about thirty yards' range. The troops were as much exposed as if
they had been in a racket court, of which the enemy held the walls. They
could not move, because they would have had to desert either the guns or
the wounded. Fortunately, not many of the tribesmen at this point were
armed with rifles. The others threw stones and burning bhoosa into the
midst of the little garrison. By its light they took good aim. Everybody
got under such cover as was available. There was not much. Gunner
Nihala, a gallant native soldier, repeatedly extinguished the burning
bhoosa with his cloak at the imminent peril of his life. Lieutenants
Watson and Colvin, with their sappers and the twelve men of the Buffs,
forced their way into the village, and tried to expel the enemy with the
bayonet. The village was too large for so small a party to clear. The
tribesmen moved from one part to another, repeatedly firing. They killed
and wounded several of the soldiers, and a bullet smashed Lieutenant
Watson's hand. He however continued his efforts and did not cease until
again shot, this time so severely as to be unable to stand. His men
carried him from the village, and it was felt that it would be useless
to try again.

The attention of the reader is directed to the bravery of this officer.
After a long day of marching, and fighting, in the dark, without
food and with small numbers, the man who will go on, unshaken and
unflinching, after he has received a severe and painful wound, has in
respect of personal courage few equals and no superior in the world.
It is perhaps as high a form of valour to endure as to dare. The
combination of both is sublime. [Both officers have received the
Victoria Cross for their conduct on this occasion.]

At nine o'clock the rain stopped the firing, as the tribesmen were
afraid of wetting their powder, but at about ten they opened again. They
now made a great hole in the wall of the village, through which about a
dozen men fired with terrible effect. Others began loopholing the
walls. The guns fired case shot at twenty yards' range at these fierce
pioneers, smashing the walls to pieces and killing many. The enemy
replied with bullets, burning bhoosa and showers of stones.

So the hours dragged away. The general and Captain Birch were both
wounded, early in the night. Lieutenant Wynter, while behaving with
distinguished gallantry, was shot through both legs at about 11.30. He
was thus twice severely wounded within forty-five days. He now continued
to command his guns, until he fainted from loss of blood. A native
gunner then shielded him with his body, until he also was hit. The whole
scene, the close, desperate fighting, the carcasses of the mules, the
officers and men crouching behind them, the flaming stacks of bhoosa,
the flashes of the rifles, and over all and around all, the darkness of
the night--is worthy of the pencil of De Neuville.

At length, at about midnight, help arrived. Worlledge's two companies
had gone in search of the Guides, but had not found them. They now
returned and, hearing the firing at Bilot, sent an orderly of the 11th
Bengal Lancers to ask if the general wanted assistance. This plucky
boy--he was only a young recruit--rode coolly up to the village although
the enemy were all around, and he stood an almost equal chance of being
shot by our own men. He soon brought the two companies to the rescue,
and the enemy, balked of their prey, presently drew off in the gloom.
How much longer the battery and its defenders could have held out is
uncertain. They were losing men steadily, and their numbers were so
small that they might have been rushed at any moment. Such was the tale.

No operations took place on the 17th. The soldiers rested, casualties
were counted, wounds were dressed, confidence was restored. The funerals
of the British officers and men, killed the day before, took place
at noon. Every one who could, attended; but all the pomp of military
obsequies was omitted, and there were no Union Jacks to cover the
bodies, nor were volleys fired over the graves, lest the wounded should
be disturbed. Somewhere in the camp--exactly where, is now purposely
forgotten--the remains of those who had lost, in fighting for their
country, all that men can be sure of, were silently interred. No
monument marked the spot. The only assurance that it should be
undisturbed is, that it remains unknown. Nevertheless, the funerals were
impressive. To some the game of war brings prizes, honour, advancement,
or experience; to some the consciousness of duty well discharged; and to
others--spectators, perhaps--the pleasure of the play and the
knowledge of men and things. But here were those who had drawn the evil
numbers--who had lost their all, to gain only a soldier's grave. Looking
at these shapeless forms, coffined in a regulation blanket, the pride
of race, the pomp of empire, the glory of war appeared but the faint
and unsubstantial fabric of a dream; and I could not help realising with
Burke: "What shadows we are and what shadows we pursue."

The actual casualties were, in proportion to the numbers engaged,
greater than in any action of the British army in India for many
years. Out of a force which at no time exceeded 1000 men, nine British
officers, four native officers, and 136 soldiers were either killed or
wounded. The following is the full return:--

              BRITISH OFFICERS.
  Killed--Lieutenant and Adjutant V. Hughes, 35th Sikhs.
    "        "       A.T. Crawford, R.A.
  Wounded severely--Captain W.I. Ryder, attd. 35th Sikhs.
    "        "      Lieutenant O.G. Gunning, 35th Sikhs.
    "        "          "      O.R. Cassells, 35th Sikhs.
    "        "          "      T.C. Watson, R.E.
    "        "          "      F.A. Wynter, R.A.
  Wounded slightly--Brigadier-General Jeffreys, Commanding 2nd Bde.
                                                             M.F.F.
    "        "      Captain Birch, R.A.
              BRITISH SOLDIERS.
                                Killed. Wounded.
  The Buffs . . . .    2       9
              NATIVE RANKS.
                                Killed. Wounded.
  11th Bengal Lancers . .    0       2
  No.8 Mountain Battery. .    6      21
  Guides Infantry. . .    2      10
  35th Sikhs. . . .   22      45
  38th Dogras. . . .    0       2
  Sappers.. . . .    4      15
     Total Casualties, 149; with 48 horses and mules.


The action of the 16th September is considered by some to have been a
reverse. I do not think this view is justified by the facts. The troops
accomplished every task they were set. They burned the village of
Shahi-Tangi most completely, in spite of all opposition, and they
inflicted on the tribesmen a loss of over 200 men. The enemy, though
elated by the capture of twenty-two rifles from the bodies of the
killed, were impressed by the bravery of the troops. "If," they are
reported to have said, "they fight like this when they are divided,
we can do nothing." Our losses were undoubtedly heavy and out of all
proportion to the advantages gained. They were due to an ignorance,
shared by all in the force, of the numbers and fighting power of the
Mamunds. No one knew, though there were many who were wise after the
event, that these tribesmen were as well armed as the troops, or that
they were the brave and formidable adversaries they proved themselves.
"Never despise your enemy" is an old lesson, but it has to be learnt
afresh, year after year, by every nation that is warlike and brave. Our
losses were also due to the isolation of Captain Ryder's company, to
extricate which the whole force had to wait till overtaken by darkness.
It has been said that war cannot be made without running risks, nor
can operations be carried out in the face of an enemy armed with
breech-loaders without loss. No tactics can altogether shield men
from bullets. Those serene critics who note the errors, and forget the
difficulties, who judge in safety of what was done in danger, and
from the security of peace, pronounce upon the conduct of war, should
remember that the spectacle of a General, wounded, his horse shot,
remaining on the field with the last unit, anxious only for the safety
of his soldiers, is a spectacle not unworthy of the pages of our
military history.

The depression, caused by the loss of amiable and gallant comrades, was
dispelled by the prospects of immediate action. Sir Bindon Blood, whose
position at Nawagai was now one of danger, sent the brigadier, instead
of reinforcements, orders to vigorously prosecute the operations against
the tribesmen, and on the morning of the 18th the force moved to attack
the village of Domodoloh, which the 38th Dogras had found so strongly
occupied on the 16th. Again the enemy were numerous. Again they adopted
their effective tactics; but this time no chances were given them. The
whole brigade marched concentrated to the attack, and formed up on the
level ground just out of shot. The general and his staff rode forward
and reconnoitered.

The village lay in a re-entrant of the hills, from which two long
spurs projected like the piers of a harbour. Behind, the mountains rose
abruptly to a height of 5000 feet. The ground, embraced by the spurs,
was filled with crops of maize and barley. A fort and watch-tower
guarded the entrance. At 8.30 the advance was ordered. The enemy did not
attempt to hold the fort, and it was promptly seized and blown up.
The explosion was a strange, though, during the fighting in the Mamund
Valley, not an uncommon sight. A great cloud of thick brown-red dust
sprang suddenly into the air, bulging out in all directions. The tower
broke in half and toppled over. A series of muffled bangs followed. The
dust-cloud cleared away, and nothing but a few ruins remained.

The enemy now opened fire from the spurs, both of which became crowned
with little circles of white smoke. The 35th Sikhs advancing cleared the
right ridge: the 38th Dogras the left. The Guides moved on the village,
and up the main re-entrant itself. The Buffs were in reserve. The
battery came into action on the left, and began shelling the crests of
the opposite hills. Taking the range with their instruments, they fired
two shots in rapid succession, each time at slightly different ranges.
The little guns exploded with a loud report. Then, far up the mountain
side, two balls of smoke appeared, one above the other, and after a few
seconds the noise of the bursting shells came faintly back. Usually one
would be a little short of--and the other a little over--the point aimed
at. The next shot, by dividing the error, would go home, and the dust
of the splinters and bullets would show on the peak, from which the
tribesmen were firing, and it would become silent and deserted--the
scene of an unregarded tragedy. Gradually the spurs were cleared of the
enemy and the Guides, passing through the village, climbed up the face
of the mountain and established themselves among the great rocks of the
steep water-course. Isolated sharpshooters maintained a dropping fire.
The company whose operations I watched,--Lieutenant Lockhart's,--killed
one of these with a volley, and we found him sitting by a little pool,
propped against a stone. He had been an ugly man originally, but now
that the bones of his jaw and face were broken in pieces by the bullet,
he was hideous to look upon. His only garment was a ragged blue
linen cloak fastened at the waist. There he sat--a typical tribesman,
ignorant, degraded, and squalid, yet brave and warlike; his only
property, his weapon, and that his countrymen had carried off. I could
not help contrasting his intrinsic value as a social organism, with that
of the officers who had been killed during the week, and those lines of
Kipling which appear at the beginning of this chapter were recalled to
mind with a strange significance. Indeed I often heard them quoted in
the Watelai Valley.

The sappers had now entered the village, and were engaged in preparing
the hovels of which it consisted for destruction. Their flat roofs are
covered with earth, and will not burn properly, unless a hole is made
first in each. This took time. Meanwhile the troops held on to the
positions they had seized, and maintained a desultory fire with the
enemy. At about noon the place was lighted up, and a dense cloud of
smoke rose in a high column into the still air. Then the withdrawal
of the troops was ordered. Immediately the enemy began their counter
attack. But the Guides were handled with much skill. The retirement
of each company was covered by the fire of others, judiciously posted
farther down the hill. No opportunity was offered to the enemy. By
one o'clock all the troops were clear of the broken ground. The Buffs
assumed the duty of rear-guard, and were delighted to have a brisk
little skirmish--fortunately unattended with loss of life--with the
tribesmen, who soon reoccupied the burning village. This continued for,
perhaps, half an hour, and meanwhile the rest of the brigade returned to
camp.

The casualties in this highly successful affair were small. It was the
first of six such enterprises, by which Brigadier-General Jeffreys, with
stubborn perseverance, broke the spirit of the Mamund tribesmen.

                                        Killed.  Wounded.
  35th Sikhs.......   2        3
  Guides Infantry......   0        1
  38th Dogras.......   0        2
         Total casualties, 8.


The enemy's losses were considerable, but no reliable details could be
obtained.

On the 19th the troops rested, and only foraging parties left the camp.
On the 20th, fighting was renewed. From the position at the entrance
to the valley it was possible to see all the villages that lay in the
hollows of the hills, and to distinguish not only the scenes of past but
also of future actions. The particular village which was selected for
chastisement was never mentioned by name, and it was not until the
brigade had marched some miles from the camp, that the objective became
evident. The tribesmen therefore continued in a state of "glorious
uncertainty," and were unable to gather in really large numbers. At 5.30
A.M. the brigade started, and, preceded by the cavalry, marched up the
valley--a long brown stream of men. Arrived nearly at the centre, the
troops closed up into a more compact formation. Then suddenly the
head wheeled to the left, and began marching on the village of Zagai.
Immediately from high up on the face of the mountain a long column of
smoke shot into the air. It was a signal fire. Other hills answered
it. The affair now became a question of time. If the village could be
captured and destroyed before the clans had time to gather, then there
would be little fighting. But if the force were delayed or became
involved, it was impossible to say on what scale the action would be.

The village of Zagai stands in a similar situation to that of Domodoloh.
On either side long spurs advance into the valley, and the houses are
built in terraces on the sides of the hollow so formed. Great chenar
trees, growing in all their luxuriant beauty out of the rocky ground by
the water-course, mark the hillside with a patch of green in contrast to
the background of sombre brown. As the troops approached in fine array,
the sound of incessant drumming was faintly heard, varied from time to
time by the notes of a bugle. The cavalry reconnoitered and trotted off
to watch the flank, after reporting the place strongly occupied. The
enemy displayed standards on the crests of the spurs. The advance
continued: the Guides on the left, the 38th Dogras in the centre, the
Buffs on the right, and the 35th Sikhs in reserve. Firing began on the
left at about nine o'clock, and a quarter of an hour later the guns came
into action near the centre. The Guides and Buffs now climbed the ridges
to the right and left. The enemy fell back according to their custom,
"sniping." Then the 38th pushed forward and occupied the village,
which was handed over to the sappers to destroy. This they did most
thoroughly, and at eleven o'clock a dense white smoke was rising from
the houses and the stacks of bhoosa. Then the troops were ordered
to withdraw. "Facilis ascensus Averni sed...;" without allowing the
quotation to lead me into difficulties, I will explain that while it is
usually easy to advance against an Asiatic, all retirements are matters
of danger. While the village was being destroyed the enemy had been
collecting. Their figures could be distinguished on the top of the
mountain--a numerous line of dark dots against the sky; others had tried
to come, from the adjoining valleys on the left and right. Those on the
right succeeded, and the Buffs were soon sharply engaged. On the left
the cavalry again demonstrated the power of their arm. A large force of
tribesmen, numbering at least 600 men, endeavoured to reach the scene
of action. To get there, however, they had to cross the open ground,
and this, in face of the Lancers, they would not do. Many of these same
tribesmen had joined in the attack on the Malakand, and had been chased
all across the plain of Khar by the fierce Indian horsemen. They were
not ambitious to repeat the experience. Every time they tried to cross
the space, which separated them from their friends, Captain Cole trotted
forward with his squadron, which was only about fifty strong, and the
tribesmen immediately scurried back to the hills. For a long time they
were delayed, and contented themselves by howling out to the sowars,
that they would soon "make mincemeat of them," to which the latter
replied that they were welcome to try. At length, realising that they
could not escape the cavalry, if they left the hills, they made a long
circuit and arrived about half an hour after the village was destroyed
and the troops had departed.

Nevertheless, as soon as the retirement was seen to be in progress, a
general attack was made all along the line. On the left, the Guides
were threatened by a force of about 500 men, who advanced displaying
standards, and waving swords. They dispersed these and drove them away
by a steady long-range fire, killing and wounding a large number. On
the right, the Buffs were harassed by being commanded by another spur.
Lieutenant Hasler's company, which I accompanied, was protected from
this flanking fire by the ground. A great many bullets, however,
hummed overhead, and being anxious to see whence these were coming, the
lieutenant walked across the crest to the far side. The half-company
here was briskly engaged. From a point high up the mountain an accurate
fire was directed upon them. We tried to get the range of this point
with the Lee-Metford rifles. It was, as nearly as could be determined,
1400 yards. The tribesmen were only armed with Martini-Henrys. They
nevertheless made excellent practice. Lieutenant R.E. Power was shot
through the arm and, almost immediately afterwards, Lieutenant Keene was
severely wounded in the body. Luckily, the bullet struck his sword-hilt
first or he would have been killed. Two or three men were also wounded
here. Those who know the range and power of the Martini-Henry rifle will
appreciate the skill and marksmanship which can inflict loss even at so
great a range.

As the retirement proceeded, the tribesmen came to closer quarters.
The Buffs, however, used their formidable weapon with great effect.
I witnessed one striking demonstration of its power. Lieutenant F.S.
Reeves remained behind with a dozen men to cover the withdrawal of his
company, and in hopes of bringing effective fire to bear on the enemy,
who at this time were pressing forward boldly. Three hundred yards away
was a nullah, and along this they began running, in hopes of cutting off
the small party. At one point, however, the line of their advance was
commanded by our fire. Presently a man ran into the open. The section
fired immediately. The great advantage of the rifle was that there was
no difficulty about guessing the exact range, as the fixed sight could
be used. The man dropped--a spot of white. Four others rushed forward.
Again there was a volley. All four fell and remained motionless. After
this we made good our retreat almost unmolested.

As soon as the troops were clear of the hills, the enemy occupied the
rocks and ridges, and fired at the retreating soldiers. The Buffs' line
of retirement lay over smooth, open ground. For ten minutes the fire was
hot. Another officer and seven or eight men dropped. The ground was wet
and deep, and the bullets cutting into the soft mud, made strange and
curious noises. As soon as the troops got out of range, the firing
ceased, as the tribesmen did not dare follow into the open.

On the extreme left, considerable bodies of the enemy appeared, and for
a moment it seemed that they would leave the hills and come into the
plain. The cavalry, however, trotted forward, and they ran back in
confusion, bunching together as they did so. The battery immediately
exploded two shrapnel shells in their midst with great effect. This
ended the affair, and the troops returned to camp. The casualties were
as follows:--

                  BRITISH OFFICERS.
  Wounded severely--2nd Lieutenant G.N.S. Keene.
    "     slightly--Captain L.I.B. Hulke.
    "        "    --Lieutenant R.E. Power.

                  BRITISH SOLDIERS.
                                 Killed.  Wounded.
  Buffs. . . . .    1         10
                            (Died of wounds).

                  Native Ranks.
                                 Wounded.
  38th Dogras . . ..    2
       Total casualties, 16.


I shall make the reader no apology for having described at such length,
what was after all only a skirmish. The picture of the war on the
frontier is essentially one of detail, and it is by the study of the
details alone that a true impression can be obtained.

On the 22nd and 23rd the villages of Dag and Tangi were respectively
captured and destroyed, but as the resistance was slight and the
operations were unmarked by any new features, I shall not weary the
reader by further description. The casualties were:--

                  BRITISH OFFICER.
  Wounded--Major S. Moody, the Buffs.

                  NATIVE RANKS.
                                 Killed.  Wounded.
  Guides Infantry. . .    1         2
  38th Dogras. . . .    0         2


By these operations the tribesmen of the Mamund Valley had been severely
punished. Any exultation which they might have felt over the action of
the 16th was completely effaced. The brigade had demonstrated its power
to take and burn any village that might be selected, and had inflicted
severe loss on all who attempted to impede its action. The tribesmen
were now thoroughly disheartened, and on the 21st began to sue for
peace.

The situation was, however, complicated by the proximity of the Afghan
frontier. The western side of the Mamund Valley is bounded by the
mountains of the Hindu Raj range, along the summits of which is the
Durand line of demarcation with the Amir. On the farther side of this
range Gholam Hyder, the Afghan commander-in-chief, lay with a powerful
force, which, at the time of the actions I have described, amounted to
nine battalions, six squadrons and fourteen mountain guns. During the
attack upon Zagai, numerous figures in khaki uniform had been observed
on the higher slopes of the hills, and it was alleged that one
particular group appeared to be directing the movements of the
tribesmen. At any rate, I cannot doubt, nor did any one who was present
during the fighting in the Mamund Valley, that the natives were aided by
regular soldiers from the Afghan army, and to a greater extent by Afghan
tribesmen, not only by the supply of arms and ammunition but by actual
intervention.

I am not in possession of sufficient evidence to pronounce on the
question of the Amir's complicity in the frontier risings. It is
certain, that for many years the Afghan policy has consistently been to
collect and preserve agents, who might be used in raising a revolt among
the Pathan tribes. But the advantages which the Amir would derive from a
quarrel with the British are not apparent. It would seem more probable,
that he has only tried throughout to make his friendship a matter of
more importance to the Indian Government, with a view to the continuance
or perhaps the increase of his subsidy. It is possible, that he has this
year tested and displayed his power; and that he has desired to show
us what a dangerous foe he might be, were he not so useful an ally.
The question is a delicate and difficult one. Most of the evidence is
contained in Secret State Papers. The inquiry would be profitless; the
result possibly unwelcome. Patriotic discretion is a virtue which should
at all times be zealously cultivated.

I do not see that the facts I have stated diminish or increase the
probability of the Amir's complicity. As the American filibusters
sympathise with the Cuban insurgents; as the Jameson raiders supported
the outlanders of the Transvaal, so also the soldiers and tribesmen
of Afghanistan sympathised with and aided their countrymen and
coreligionists across the border. Probably the Afghan Colonial Office
would have been vindicated by any inquiry.

It is no disparagement but rather to the honour of men, that they should
be prepared to back with their lives causes which claim their sympathy.
It is indeed to such men that human advancement has been due. I do not
allude to this matter, to raise hostile feelings against the Afghan
tribesmen or their ruler, but only to explain the difficulties
encountered in the Mamund Valley by the 2nd Brigade of the Malakand
Field Force: to explain how it was that defenders of obscure villages
were numbered by thousands, and why the weapons of poverty-stricken
agriculturists were excellent Martini-Henry rifles.

The Mamunds themselves were now genuinely anxious for peace. Their
valley was in our hands; their villages and crops were at our mercy; but
their allies, who suffered none of these things, were eager to continue
the struggle. They had captured most of the rifles of the dead soldiers
on the 16th, and they had no intention of giving them up. On the other
hand, it was obvious that the British Raj could not afford to be defied
in this matter. We had insisted on the rifles being surrendered, and
that expensive factor, Imperial prestige, demanded that we should
prosecute operations till we got them, no matter what the cost might be.
The rifles were worth little. The men and officers we lost were worth
a great deal. It was unsound economics, but Imperialism and economics
clash as often as honesty and self-interest. We were therefore committed
to the policy of throwing good money after bad in order to keep up our
credit; as a man who cannot pay his tradesmen, sends them fresh orders
in lieu of settlement. Under these unsatisfactory conditions, the
negotiations opened. They did not, however, interfere with the military
situation, and the troops continued to forage daily in the valley, and
the tribesmen to fire nightly into the camp.

At the end of the week a message from the Queen, expressing sympathy
with the sufferings of the wounded, and satisfaction at the conduct of
the troops, was published in Brigade orders. It caused the most lively
pleasure to all, but particularly to the native soldiers, who heard with
pride and exultation that their deeds and dangers were not unnoticed by
that august Sovereign before whom they know all their princes bow, and
to whom the Sirkar itself is but a servant. The cynic and the socialist
may sneer after their kind; yet the patriot, who examines with anxious
care those forces which tend to the cohesion or disruption of great
communities, will observe how much the influence of a loyal sentiment
promotes the solidarity of the Empire.

The reader must now accompany me to the camp of the 3rd Brigade, twelve
miles away, at Nawagai. We shall return to the Mamund Valley and have a
further opportunity of studying its people and natural features.





CHAPTER XIII: NAWAGAI


   "When the wild Bajaur mountain men lay choking with their blood,
    And the Kafirs held their footing..."

                             "A Sermon in Lower Bengal," SIR A. LYALL.



Few spectacles in nature are so mournful and so sinister as the
implacable cruelty with which a wounded animal is pursued by its
fellows. Perhaps it is due to a cold and bracing climate, perhaps to a
Christian civilisation, that the Western peoples of the world have to
a great extent risen above this low original instinct. Among Europeans
power provokes antagonism, and weakness excites pity. All is different
in the East. Beyond Suez the bent of men's minds is such, that safety
lies only in success, and peace in prosperity. All desert the falling.
All turn upon the fallen.

The reader may have been struck, in the account of the fighting in the
Mamund Valley, with the vigour with which the tribesmen follow up a
retreating enemy and press an isolated party. In war this is sound,
practical policy. But the hillmen adopt it rather from a natural
propensity, than from military knowledge. Their tactics are the outcome
of their natures. All their actions, moral, political, strategic, are
guided by the same principle. The powerful tribes, who had watched the
passage of the troops in sullen fear, only waited for a sign of weakness
to rise behind them. As long as the brigades dominated the country,
and appeared confident and successful, their communications would be
respected, and the risings localised; but a check, a reverse, a retreat
would raise tremendous combinations on every side.

If the reader will bear this in mind, it will enable him to appreciate
the position with which this chapter deals, and may explain many other
matters which are beyond the scope of these pages. For it might be well
also to remember, that the great drama of frontier war is played before
a vast, silent but attentive audience, who fill a theatre, that reaches
from Peshawar to Colombo, and from Kurrachee to Rangoon.

The strategic and political situation, with which Sir Bindon Blood was
confronted at Nawagai on the 17th of September, was one of difficulty
and danger. He had advanced into a hostile country. In his front the
Mohmands had gathered at the Hadda Mullah's call to oppose his further
progress. The single brigade he had with him was not strong enough to
force the Bedmanai Pass, which the enemy held. The 2nd Brigade, on
which he had counted, was fully employed twelve miles away in the Mamund
Valley. The 1st Brigade, nearly four marches distant on the Panjkora
River, had not sufficient transport to move. Meanwhile General Elles's
division was toiling painfully through the difficult country north-east
of Shabkadr, and could not arrive for several days. He was therefore
isolated, and behind him was the "network of ravines," through which a
retirement would be a matter of the greatest danger and difficulty.

Besides this, his line of communications, stretching away through sixty
miles of hostile country, or country that at any moment might become
hostile, was seriously threatened by the unexpected outbreak in the
Mamund Valley. He was between two fires. Nor was this all. The Khan of
Nawagai, a chief of great power and influence, was only kept loyal by
the presence of Sir Bindon Blood's brigade. Had that brigade marched, as
was advocated by the Government of India, back to join Brigadier-General
Jeffreys in the Mamund Valley, this powerful chief would have thrown
his whole weight against the British. The flame in the Mamund Valley,
joining the flame in the Bedmanai Pass, would have produced a mighty
conflagration, and have spread far and wide among the inflammable
tribesmen. Bajaur would have risen to a man. Swat, in spite of its
recent punishment, would have stirred ominously. Dir would have
repudiated its ruler and joined the combination. The whole mountain
region would have been ablaze. Every valley would have poured forth
armed men. General Elles, arriving at Lakarai, would have found, instead
of a supporting brigade, a hostile gathering, and might even have had to
return to Shabkadr without accomplishing anything.

Sir Bindon Blood decided to remain at Nawagai; to cut the Hadda Mullah's
gathering from the tribesmen in the Mamund Valley; to hold out a hand to
General Elles; to keep the pass open and the khan loyal. Nawagai was
the key of the situation. But that key could not be held without much
danger. It was a bold course to take, but it succeeded, as bold courses,
soundly conceived, usually do. He therefore sent orders to Jeffreys
to press operations against the Mamund tribesmen; assured the Khan of
Nawagai of the confidence of the Government, and of their determination
to "protect" him from all enemies; heliographed to General Elles that he
would meet him at Nawagai; entrenched his camp and waited.

He did not wait long in peace. The tribesmen, whose tactical instincts
have been evolved by centuries of ceaseless war, were not slow to
realise that the presence of the 3rd Brigade at Nawagai was fatal to
their hopes. They accordingly resolved to attack it. The Suffi and
Hadda Mullahs exerted the whole of their influence upon their credulous
followers. The former appealed to the hopes of future happiness. Every
Ghazi who fell fighting should sit above the Caaba at the very footstool
of the throne, and in that exalted situation and august presence should
be solaced for his sufferings by the charms of a double allowance of
celestial beauty. Mullah Hadda used even more concrete inducements. The
muzzles of the guns should be stopped for those who charged home. No
bullet should harm them. They should be invulnerable. They should not
go to Paradise yet. They should continue to live honoured and respected
upon earth. This promise appears to have carried more weight, as the
Hadda Mullah's followers had three times as many killed and wounded as
the candidates for the pleasures of the world to come. It would almost
seem, that in the undeveloped minds of these wild and superstitious
sons of the mountains, there lie the embryonic germs of economics and
practical philosophy, pledges of latent possibilities of progress.

     Some for the pleasures of this world, and some
     Sigh for the prophet's paradise to come.
            Ah! take the cash and let the credit go,
     Nor heed the rumble of a distant drum.

                                     OMAR KHAYYAM


It is the practice of wise commanders in all warfare, to push their
cavalry out every evening along the lines of possible attack, to make
sure that no enemy has concentrated near the camp in the hopes of
attacking at nightfall. On the 18th, Captain Delamain's squadron of the
11th Bengal Lancers came in contact with scattered parties of the enemy
coming from the direction of the Bedmanai Pass. Desultory skirmishing
ensued, and the cavalry retired to camp. Some firing took place that
night, and a soldier of the Queen's Regiment who strayed about fifty
yards from his picket, was pulled down and murdered by the savage
enemies, who were lurking all around. The next evening the cavalry
reconnoitered as usual. The squadron pushed forward protected by its
line of advanced scouts across the plain towards the Bedmanai Pass.
Suddenly from a nullah a long line of tribesmen rose and fired a volley.
A horse was shot. The squadron wheeled about and cantered off, having
succeeded in what is technically called "establishing contact."

A great gathering of the enemy, some 3000 strong, now appeared in the
plain. For about half an hour before sunset they danced, shouted and
discharged their rifles. The mountain battery fired a few shells, but
the distance was too great to do much good, or shall I say harm? Then it
became dark. The whole brigade remained that night in the expectation
of an attack, but only a very half-hearted attempt was made. This was
easily repulsed, one man in the Queen's Regiment being killed among the
troops.

On the 20th, however, definite information was received from the Khan of
Nawagai, that a determined assault would be made on the camp that
night. The cavalry reconnaissance again came in touch with the enemy
at nightfall. The officers had dinner an hour earlier, and had just
finished, when, at about 8.30, firing began. The position of the camp
was commanded, though at long ranges, by the surrounding heights. From
these a searching rifle fire was now opened. All the tents were struck.
The officers and men not employed in the trenches were directed to
lie down. The majority of the bullets, clearing the parapets of the
entrenchment on one side, whizzed across without doing any harm to the
prostrate figures; but all walking about was perilous, and besides this
the plunging fire from the heights was galling to every one.

Determined and vigorous sword charges were now delivered on all sides
of the camp. The enemy, who numbered about 4000, displayed the greatest
valour. They rushed right up to the trenches and fell dead and dying,
under the very bayonets of the troops. The brunt of the attack fell upon
the British Infantry Regiment, the Queen's. This was fortunate, as many
who were in camp that night say, that such was the determination of the
enemy in their charges, that had they not been confronted with magazine
rifles, they might have got into the entrenchments.

The fire of the British was, however, crushing. Their discipline was
admirable, and the terrible weapon with which they were armed, with its
more terrible bullet, stopped every rush. The soldiers, confident in
their power, were under perfect control. When the enemy charged, the
order to employ magazine fire was passed along the ranks. The guns fired
star shell. These great rockets, bursting into stars in the air, slowly
fell to the ground shedding a pale and ghastly light on the swarming
figures of the tribesmen as they ran swiftly forward. Then the popping
of the musketry became one intense roar as the ten cartridges, which
the magazine of the rifle holds, were discharged almost instantaneously.
Nothing could live in front of such a fire. Valour, ferocity,
fanaticism, availed nothing. All were swept away. The whistles sounded.
The independent firing stopped, with machine-like precision, and the
steady section volleys were resumed. This happened not once, but a dozen
times during the six hours that the attack was maintained. The 20th
Punjaub Infantry, and the cavalry also, sustained and repulsed the
attacks delivered against their fronts with steadiness. At length the
tribesmen sickened of the slaughter, and retired to their hills in gloom
and disorder.

The experience of all in the camp that night was most unpleasant. Those
who were in the trenches were the best off. The others, with nothing to
do and nothing to look at, remained for six hours lying down wondering
whether the next bullet would hit them or not. Some idea of the severity
of the fire may be obtained from the fact that a single tent showed
sixteen bullet holes.

Brigadier-General Wodehouse was wounded at about eleven o'clock. He had
walked round the trenches and conferred with his commanding officers as
to the progress of the attack and the expenditure of ammunition, and had
just left Sir Bindon Blood's side, after reporting, when a bullet struck
him in the leg, inflicting a severe and painful, though fortunately not
a dangerous, wound.

Considering the great number of bullets that had fallen in the camp, the
British loss was surprisingly small. The full return is as follows:--

             BRITISH OFFICERS.
  Wounded severely--Brigadier-General Wodehouse.
     "    slightly--Veterinary-Captain Mann.

             BRITISH SOLDIERS.
                             Killed.  Wounded.
  Queen's Regiment...  1        3
             NATIVE RANKS--Wounded, 20.
             FOLLOWERS--     "       6.
             Total, 32 of all ranks.


The casualties among the cavalry horses and transport animals were most
severe. Over 120 were killed and wounded.

The enemy drew off, carrying their dead with them, for the most part,
but numerous bodies lying outside the shelter trench attested the valour
and vigour of their attack. One man was found the next morning, whose
head had been half blown off, by a discharge of case shot from one of
the mountain guns. He lay within a yard of the muzzle, the muzzle he
had believed would be stopped, a victim to that blind credulity and
fanaticism, now happily passing away from the earth, under the combined
influences of Rationalism and machine guns.

It was of course very difficult to obtain any accurate estimate of the
enemy's losses. It was proved, however, that 200 corpses were buried on
the following day in the neighbourhood, and large numbers of wounded men
were reported to have been carried through the various villages. A rough
estimate should place their loss at about 700.

The situation was now cleared. The back of the Hadda Mullah's gathering
was broken, and it dispersed rapidly. The Khan of Nawagai feverishly
protested his unswerving loyalty to the Government. The Mamunds were
disheartened. The next day General Elles's leading brigade appeared in
the valley. Sir Bindon Blood rode out with his cavalry. The two generals
met at Lakarai. It was decided that General Elles should be reinforced
by the 3rd Brigade of the Malakand Field Force, and should clear the
Bedmanai Pass and complete the discomfiture of the Hadda Mullah. Sir
Bindon Blood with the cavalry would join Jeffreys' force in the Mamund
Valley, and deal with the situation there. The original plan of taking
two brigades from the Malakand to Peshawar was thus discarded; and
such troops of Sir Bindon Blood's force as were required for the Tirah
expedition would, with the exception of the 3rd Brigade, reach their
points of concentration via Nowshera. As will be seen, this plan was
still further modified to meet the progress of events.

I had rejoined the 3rd Brigade on the morning of the 21st, and in the
evening availed myself of an escort, which was proceeding across the
valley, to ride over and see General Elles's brigade. The mobilisation
of the Mohmand Field Force was marked by the employment, for the first
time, of the Imperial Service Troops. The Maharaja of Patiala, and Sir
Pertab Singh, were both with the force. The latter was sitting outside
his tent, ill with fever, but cheery and brave as ever. The spectacle
of this splendid Indian prince, whose magnificent uniform in the Jubilee
procession had attracted the attention of all beholders, now clothed in
business-like khaki, and on service at the head of his regiment, aroused
the most pleasing reflections. With all its cost in men and money, and
all its military and political mistakes, the great Frontier War of 1897
has at least shown on what foundations the British rule in India rests,
and made clear who are our friends and who our enemies.

I could not help thinking, that polo has had a good deal to do with
strengthening the good relations of the Indian princes and the British
officers. It may seem strange to speak of polo as an Imperial factor,
but it would not be the first time in history that national games have
played a part in high politics. Polo has been the common ground on which
English and Indian gentlemen have met on equal terms, and it is to that
meeting that much mutual esteem and respect is due. Besides this, polo
has been the salvation of the subaltern in India, and the young officer
no longer, as heretofore, has a "centre piece" of brandy on his table
night and day. The pony and polo stick have drawn him from his bungalow
and mess-room, to play a game which must improve his nerve, his judgment
and his temper. The author of the Indian Polity asserts that the day
will come when British and native officers will serve together in
ordinary seniority, and on the same footing. From what I know of the
British officer, I do not myself believe that this is possible; but if
it should ever came to pass, the way will have been prepared on the polo
ground.

The camp of the 3rd Brigade was not attacked again. The tribesmen had
learnt a bitter lesson from their experiences of the night before. The
trenches were, however, lined at dark, and as small parties of the enemy
were said to be moving about across the front, occupied by the Queen's,
there was some very excellent volley firing at intervals throughout the
night. A few dropping shots came back out of the darkness, but no one
was the worse, and the majority of the force made up for the sleep they
had lost the night before.

The next morning Sir Bindon Blood, his staff and three squadrons of the
11th Bengal Lancers, rode back through the pass of Nawagai, and joined
General Jeffreys at Inayat Kila. The 3rd Brigade now left the Malakand
Field Force, and passed under the command of General Elles and beyond
the proper limits of this chronicle; but for the sake of completeness,
and as the reader may be anxious to hear more of the fine regiment,
whose astonishing fire relieved the strategic situation at Nawagai, and
inflicted such terrible losses on the Hadda Mullah's adherents, I shall
briefly trace their further fortunes.

After General Wodehouse was wounded the command of the 3rd Brigade
devolved upon Colonel Graves. They were present at the forcing of the
Bedmanai Pass on the 29th of September, and on the two following days
they were employed in destroying the fortified villages in the Mitai and
Suran valleys; but as these operations were unattended by much loss of
life, the whole brigade reached Shabkadr with only three casualties.
Thence the Queen's were despatched to Peshawar to take part in the Tirah
expedition, in which they have added to the high reputation they had
acquired in the Malakand and Mohmand Field Forces.




CHAPTER XIV: BACK TO THE MAMUND VALLEY


   "Again I revisit the hills where we sported,
    The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought."

                "On a Distant View of Harrow," BYRON.



It is with a vague and undefined feeling of satisfaction that I conduct
the reader back to the entrenched camp of Inayat Kila at the entrance
of the Mamund Valley, where so much happened, and with which so many
memories and experiences are associated. Now that the troops are gone,
the scene of life and activity has become solitary and silent. The
graves of the officers and men who fell there are lost in the level of
the plain. Yet the name is still remembered in not a few English homes,
nor will the tribesmen, looking at the deserted entrenchment, easily
forget the visit of the 2nd Brigade.

When, on the afternoon of the 15th, the camp had first been pitched,
only a small and hasty shelter-trench surrounded it. But as the weeks
passed, the parapets grew higher, the ditches deeper, and the pits more
numerous, until the whole place became a redoubt. Traverses were built
along the perimeter to protect the defenders from flanking fire. Great
walls of earth and stone sheltered the horses and mules. Fifty yards
out, round the whole camp, a wire trip was carefully laid, to break
a rush, and the paths and tracks leading to the entrances had become
beaten, level roads. The aspect of permanency was comforting.

Since the action of the 16th September, the 2nd Brigade had been unable
to move. Transport--the life and soul of an army--is an even more
vital factor here than in less undeveloped countries. The mobility of
a brigade depends entirely on its pack animals. On the 14th many mules
were killed. On the 16th the field hospitals were filled with wounded.
It now became impossible for the camp to move, because the wounded
could not be carried. It was impossible to leave them behind, because,
deducting an adequate guard, the rest of the brigade would have been too
few for fighting. The 2nd Brigade was therefore a fixture. Its striking
power was limited to out and home marches. The first step taken by Sir
Bindon Blood was to restore its mobility by getting the wounded sent
down to the base. Some changes in the constitution of the force were
also made. The 11th Bengal Lancers, who now joined the Mohmand Field
Force, were succeeded by the Guides Cavalry. The 35th Sikhs, who had
suffered such severe losses, were replaced by the 31st Punjaub Infantry
from Panjkora. The Buffs, who were full of fever, were exchanged for the
Royal West Kent from the Malakand. No.7 British Mountain Battery took
the place of No.8, which was now reduced to four guns, having lost
in the week's fighting half its officers, a third of its mules, and a
quarter of its men.

Camels to carry the wounded were sent up from Panjkora. The Buffs
escorted the long convoy down the line of communications. Every one in
camp was sorry to see the last of them. In the fighting of the week they
had made it clear that the British Infantry battalion is the backbone
of every mixed brigade, and they shared with the Guides Infantry one of
those enviable reputations for steadiness which are so hard to gain and
so easy to lose on active service.

On the 24th of September Sir Bindon Blood received despatches appointing
him to the command of the First Division of the Tirah Expeditionary
Force, and as the negotiations with the Mamund Jirgahs were then in
progress, and it seemed that a settlement might be reached, he proceeded
with his staff to Panjkora. Here he was on the telegraph wire, and could
communicate easily and quickly with India, and at the same time
watch the progress of events at Inayat Kila. Mr. Davis conducted the
diplomatic relations with the Mamunds. On the 26th a Jirgah from
the tribe came into camp. They deposited 4000 rupees as a token of
submission, and brought in fifty firearms. These, however, were of the
oldest and most antiquated types, and were obviously not the weapons
with which so many soldiers had been killed and wounded. This was
pointed out to the tribal representatives. They protested that they had
no others. They were poor men, they said, and their property was at the
mercy of the Government. But they had no other arms.

The political officer was firm, and his terms were explicit. Either they
must give up the twenty-two rifles captured from the 35th Sikhs, on
the 16th, or their villages would be destroyed. No other terms would he
accept. To this they replied, that they had not got the rifles. They
had all been taken, they said, and I think with truth, by the Afghan
tribesmen from the Kunar Valley. These would not give them up.
Besides--this also with truth--they had been taken in "fair war."

One man, who had lived some years in Calcutta, was especially eloquent
on the subject, and argued the case with much skill. He was however,
crushed by Mr. Davies asking whether there were "no greybeards in the
tribe," and why they were "led by a babu" [a native clerk--the Oriental
embodiment of Red Tape]. The discussion was extended to the whole
question of their quarrel with the British power. They admitted having
sent their young men to attack the Malakand and Chakdara. "All the world
was going ghaza," they said. They could not stay behind. They also
owned to having gone five miles from their valley to attack the camp at
Markhanai. Why had the Sirkar burnt their village? they asked. They had
only tried to get even--for the sake of their honour. All this showed a
most unsatisfactory spirit from the Government point of view, and it was
evident that the brigade could not leave the valley until the tribesmen
adopted a more submissive attitude. The matter reverted to the crucial
point. Would they give up their rifles or not? To this they replied
evasively, that they would consult their fellow-tribesmen and return an
answer on the next day. This practically amounted to a refusal, and as
no reply was received on the 27th, the negotiations ceased.

In consequence of this and of the threatening attitude of the tribesmen
throughout Dir and Bajaur, Sir Bindon Blood telegraphed to the
Government of India and recommended the retention of a large force in
these territories. By so doing he virtually resigned the command which
awaited him in the Tirah expedition. This disinterested decision caused
the liveliest satisfaction throughout the force. The Government accepted
the advice of their general. The Tirah force was reconstituted, and
Major-General W.P. Symons received the command of its first division.
A force of eleven battalions, seven squadrons and three batteries was
placed at Sir Bindon Blood's disposal, and he was directed to deal with
the local situation as he should see fit. He immediately ordered General
Jeffreys to resume the punitive operations against the Mamunds.

In pursuance of these orders, the 2nd Brigade, on the 29th, destroyed
all the villages in the centre of the valley, some twelve or fourteen
in number, and blew up with dynamite upwards of thirty towers and forts.
The whole valley was filled with the smoke, which curled upwards in
dense and numerous columns, and hung like a cloud over the scene of
destruction. The continued explosions of the demolitions resembled a
bombardment. The tribesmen, unable to contend with the troops in the
open, remained sullenly on the hillsides, and contented themselves with
firing from long range at the cavalry patrols.

I feel that this is a fitting moment to discuss the questions which
village-burning raises. I have described with independent impartiality
the progress of the quarrel between the British and the tribesmen. In
a similar spirit I approach the examination of the methods of
offence employed. Many misconceptions, some of which are caused by an
extraordinary ignorance, exist on this subject in England. One member
of the House of Commons asked the Secretary of State whether, in the
punishment of villages, care was taken that only the houses of the
guilty parties should be destroyed. He was gravely told that great care
was taken. The spectacle of troops, who have perhaps carried a village
with the bayonet and are holding it against a vigorous counter-attack,
when every moment means loss of life and increase of danger, going
round and carefully discriminating which houses are occupied by "guilty
parties," and which by unoffending people, is sufficiently ridiculous.
Another member asked, "Whether the villages were destroyed or only
the fortifications." "Only the fortifications," replied the minister
guilelessly. What is the actual fact? All along the Afghan border every
man's house is his castle. The villages are the fortifications, the
fortifications are the villages. Every house is loopholed, and whether
it has a tower or not depends only on its owner's wealth. A third
legislator, in the columns of his amusing weekly journal, discussed the
question at some length, and commented on the barbarity of such tactics.
They were not only barbarous, he affirmed, but senseless. Where did the
inhabitants of the villages go? To the enemy of course! This reveals,
perhaps, the most remarkable misconception of the actual facts. The
writer seemed to imagine that the tribesmen consisted of a regular army,
who fought, and a peaceful, law-abiding population, who remained at
their business, and perhaps protested against the excessive military
expenditure from time to time. Whereas in reality, throughout these
regions, every inhabitant is a soldier from the first day he is old
enough to hurl a stone, till the last day he has strength to pull a
trigger, after which he is probably murdered as an encumbrance to the
community.

Equipped with these corrected facts, I invite the reader to examine the
question of the legitimacy of village-burning for himself. A camp of a
British brigade, moving at the order of the Indian Government and under
the acquiescence of the people of the United Kingdom, is attacked at
night. Several valuable and expensive officers, soldiers and transport
animals are killed and wounded. The assailants retire to the hills.
Thither it is impossible to follow them. They cannot be caught. They
cannot be punished. Only one remedy remains--their property must be
destroyed. [It may be of interest, to consider for a moment the contrast
between the effects of village-burning on the Indian Frontier and in
Cuba. In Cuba a small section of the population are in revolt; the
remainder are sympathisers. To screw these lukewarm partisans up to
the fighting-point, the insurgents destroy their villages and burn the
sugar-came. This, by placing the alternative of "fight or starve" before
the inhabitants, has the effect of driving them to take up arms against
the Spaniards, whom they all hate, and join the rebels in the field.
Thus in Cuba it is the endeavour of the Government to protect property,
and of the rebels to destroy it. It was with the aim of keeping the
wavering population loyal, that General Weyler collected them all into
the towns, with such painful results. His policy was cruel but sound,
and, had it been accompanied by vigorous military operations, might
have been successful.] Their villages are made hostages for their good
behavior. They are fully aware of this, and when they make an attack on
a camp or convoy, they do it because they have considered the cost
and think it worth while. Of course, it is cruel and barbarous, as is
everything else in war, but it is only an unphilosophic mind that will
hold it legitimate to take a man's life, and illegitimate to destroy his
property. The burning of mud hovels cannot at any rate be condemned
by nations whose customs of war justify the bombardment of the
dwelling-houses of a city like Paris, to induce the garrison to
surrender by the sufferings of the non-combatants.

In official parlance the burning of villages is usually expressed
euphemistically as "So many villages were visited and punished," or,
again, "The fortifications were demolished." I do not believe in all
this circumlocution. The lack of confidence in the good sense of the
British democracy, which the Indian Government displays, is one of its
least admirable characteristics. Exeter Hall is not all England; and the
people of our islands only require to have the matter put fairly before
them to arrive at sound, practical conclusions. If this were not so, we
should not occupy our present position in the world.

To return to the Mamund Valley. The difference between villages in the
plains and those in the hills was forcibly demonstrated. On the 29th
over a dozen villages in the plains were destroyed without the loss of a
single life. On the 30th the tale ran somewhat differently. The village
of Agrah adjoins the village of Zagai, the capture of which has already
been recorded. It stood in a broad re-entrant of the mountains, and amid
ground so tangled and broken, that to move over it is difficult, and to
describe it impossible. On the steep face of the mountain great rocks,
sometimes thirty feet high, lay tossed about: interspersed with these
were huts or narrow terraces, covered with crops, and rising one above
the other by great steps of ten or twelve feet each. The attack on such
a place was further complicated by the fact that the same re-entrant
contained another village called Gat, which had to be occupied at the
same time. This compelled the brigade to attack on a broader front than
their numbers allowed. It was evident, as the Guides Cavalry approached
the hills, that resistance was contemplated. Several red standards
were visible to the naked eye, and the field-glasses disclosed numerous
figures lining the ridges and spurs. The squadrons, advancing as far as
the scrub would allow them, soon drew the fire of isolated skirmishers.
Several troops dismounted, and returned the salute with their carbines,
and at 8.45 a dropping fire began. The brigade now came into action in
the following formation. The cavalry, on the extreme left, covered the
head of a considerable valley, from which the flank was threatened; the
Guides Infantry and the Royal West Kent Regiment prolonged the line to
the centre of the attack; the 31st Punjaub Infantry moved against the
spurs to the right of the village, and the 38th Dogras were in reserve.
The action was begun by the Guides Infantry storming the ridges to the
left of the enemy's position. These were strongly held and fortified by
sungars, behind which the defenders were sheltered. The Guides advanced
at a brisk pace, and without much firing, across the open ground to
the foot of the hills. The tribesmen, shooting from excellent cover,
maintained a hot fire. The bullets kicked up the dust in all directions,
or whistled viciously through the air; but the distance was short, and
it was soon apparent that the enemy did not mean to abide the assault.
When the troops got within 100 yards and fixed bayonets, a dozen
determined men were still firing from the sungars. The Afridi and
Pathan companies of the Guides, uttering shrill cries of exultation,
culminating in an extraordinary yell, dashed forward, climbed the hill
as only hillmen can climb, and cleared the crest. On the side of the
next hill the figures of the retreating tribesmen were visible, and many
were shot down before they could find shelter.

It was a strange thing, to watch these conspicuous forms toiling up the
hillside, dodging this way and that way, as the bullets cut into the
earth around them; but with the experience of the previous ten minutes
fresh in the memory, pity was not one of the emotions it aroused. A good
many fell, subsiding peacefully, and lying quite still. Their fall was
greeted by strange little yells of pleasure from the native soldiers.
These Afridi and Pathan companies of the Guides Infantry suggest nothing
so much as a well-trained pack of hounds. Their cries, their movements,
and their natures are similar.

The West Kents had now come into line on the Guides' right, and while
the latter held the long ridge they had taken, the British regiment
moved upon the village. Here the resistance became very severe. The
tangled and broken ground, rising in terraces, sometimes ten feet high,
and covered with high crops, led to fighting at close quarters with
loss on both sides. Loud and continuous grew the musketry fire. The 31st
Punjaub Infantry, who had ascended the spur on the right, soon joined
hands with the West Kents, and both regiments became hotly engaged.
Meantime the Mountain Battery, which had come into action near the
centre, began to throw its shells over the heads of the infantry on
to the higher slopes, from which the enemy were firing. It soon became
evident that the troops were too few for the work. On the left the
Guides Infantry were unable to leave the ridge they had captured,
lest it should be reoccupied by the enemy, who were showing in great
strength. A gap opened in consequence, between the Guides and Royal West
Kents, and this enabled the tribesmen to get round the left flank of the
British regiment, while the 31st Punjaub Infantry, on the right, were
also turned by the enveloping enemy. It is to these circumstances that
most of the losses were due.

The British regiment forced its way through the village, and encountered
the enemy strongly posted in sungars among the rocks above it. Here
they were sharply checked. The leading company had stormed one of these
fortifications, and the enemy at once retired higher up the hill. About
fifteen men were inside the work, and perhaps thirty more just below it.
The whole place was commanded by the higher ground. The enemy's fire was
accurate and intense.

Of those inside, four or five were instantly killed or wounded. The
sungar was a regular trap, and the company were ordered to retire.
Lieutenant Browne-Clayton remained till the last, to watch the
withdrawal, and in so doing was shot dead, the bullet severing the
blood-vessels near the heart. The two or three men who remained were
handing down his body over the rock wall, when they were charged by
about thirty Ghazis and driven down the hill. A hundred and fifty yards
away, Major Western had three companies of the West Kents in support. He
immediately ordered Captain Styles to retake the sungar, and recover
the body. The company charged. Captain Styles was the first to reach the
stone wall, and with Lieutenant Jackson cleared it of such of the enemy
as remained. Five or six men were wounded in the charge, and others fell
in the sungar. The advanced position of this company was soon seen to
be untenable, and they were ordered to fall back to the edge of the
village, where the whole regiment was hotly engaged.

Meanwhile the 31st Punjaub Infantry, who had advanced under Colonel
O'Bryen on the right, were exposed to a severe fire from a rocky ridge
on their flank. Their attack was directed against a great mass of
boulders, some of them of enormous size, which were tenaciously held by
the enemy. The fighting soon became close. The two advanced companies
were engaged at a distance of under 100 yards. Besides this the cross
fire from their right flank added to their difficulties. In such a
position the presence of Colonel O'Bryen was invaluable. Moving swiftly
from point to point, he directed the fire and animated the spirit of
the men, who were devoted to him. It was not long before the enemy's
marksmen began to take aim at this prominent figure. But for a
considerable period, although bullets struck the ground everywhere
around him, he remained unhurt. At last, however, he was shot through
the body, and carried mortally wounded from the action.

I pause to consider for a moment the conditions, and circumstances,
by which the pursuit of a military career differs from all others. In
political life, in art, in engineering, the man with talents who behaves
with wisdom may steadily improve his position in the world. If he makes
no mistakes he will probably achieve success. But the soldier is more
dependent upon external influences. The only way he can hope to rise
above the others, is by risking his life in frequent campaigns. All
his fortunes, whatever they may be, all his position and weight in the
world, all his accumulated capital, as it were, must be staked afresh
each time he goes into action. He may have seen twenty engagements, and
be covered with decorations and medals. He may be marked as a rising
soldier. And yet each time he comes under fire his chances of being
killed are as great as, and perhaps greater than, those of the youngest
subaltern, whose luck is fresh. The statesman, who has put his power
to the test, and made a great miscalculation, may yet retrieve his
fortunes. But the indiscriminating bullet settles everything. As the
poet somewhat grimly has it:--

Stone-dead hath no better.

Colonel O'Bryen had been specially selected, while still a young man,
for the command of a battalion. He had made several campaigns. Already
he had passed through the drudgery of the lower ranks of the service,
and all the bigger prizes of the military profession appeared in view:
and though the death in action of a colonel at the head of his regiment
is as fine an end as a soldier can desire, it is mournful to record the
abrupt termination of an honourable career at a point when it might have
been of much value to the State.

The pressure now became so strong along the whole line that the
brigadier, fearing that the troops might get seriously involved, ordered
the withdrawal to commence. The village was however burning, and the
enemy, who had also suffered severely from the close fighting, did not
follow up with their usual vigour. The battery advanced to within 600
yards of the enemy's line, and opened a rapid fire of shrapnel to clear
those spurs that commanded the line of retirement. The shells screamed
over the heads of the West Kent Regiment, who were now clear of the
hills and in front of the guns, and burst in little white puffs of smoke
along the crest of the ridge, tearing up the ground into a thick cloud
of dust by the hundreds of bullets they contained.

A continuous stream of doolies and stretchers commenced to flow from the
fighting line. Soon all available conveyances were exhausted, and the
bodies of the wounded had to be carried over the rough ground in the
arms of their comrades--a very painful process, which extorted many a
groan from the suffering men. At length the withdrawal was completed,
and the brigade returned to camp. The presence of the cavalry, who
covered the rear, deterred the enemy from leaving the hills.

Riding back, I observed a gruesome sight. At the head of the column of
doolies and stretchers were the bodies of the killed, each tied with
cords upon a mule. Their heads dangled on one side and their legs on
the other. The long black hair of the Sikhs, which streamed down to the
ground, and was draggled with dust and blood, imparted a hideous aspect
to these figures. There was no other way, however, and it was better
than leaving their remains to be insulted and defiled by the savages
with whom we were fighting. At the entrance to the camp a large group
of surgeons--their sleeves rolled up--awaited the wounded. Two operating
tables, made of medical boxes, and covered with water-proof sheets, were
also prepared. There is a side to warfare browner than khaki.

The casualties in the attack upon Agrah were as follows:--

                BRITISH OFFICERS.
  Killed--Lieut.-Col. J.L. O'Bryen, 31st Punjaub Infantry.
    "     2nd Lieut. W.C. Brown-Clayton, Royal West Kent.
  Wounded severely--Lieutenant H. Isacke, Royal West Kent.
    "       "          "       E.B. Peacock, 31st Punjaub Infantry.
  Wounded slightly--Major W.G.B. Western, Royal West Kent.
    "       "       Captain R.C. Styles, Royal West Kent.
    "       "          "    N.H.S. Lowe, Royal West Kent.
    "       "       2nd Lieut. F.A. Jackson, Royal West Kent.

                BRITISH SOLDIERS.
                                 Killed.  Wounded.
    Royal West Kent...    3         20

                NATIVE RANKS.
                                 Killed.  Wounded.
    Guides Cavalry...     0         4
    31st Punjaub Infantry .     7        15
    38th Dogras   ...     0         4
               Total casualties, 61.


As soon as Sir Bindon Blood, at his camp on the Panjkora, received the
news of the sharp fighting of the 30th, [After the action of the 30th
of September, Lieut.-Colonel McRae, of the 45th Sikhs, was sent up
to command the 31st Punjaub Infantry in the place of Lieut.-Colonel
O'Bryen, and I was myself attached as a temporary measure to fill
another of the vacancies. This is, I believe, the first time a British
Cavalry officer has been attached to a native infantry regiment. After
the kindness and courtesy with which I was treated, I can only hope it
will not be the last.] he decided to proceed himself to Inayat Kila with
reinforcements. He arrived on the 2nd October, bringing No.8 Mountain
Battery; a wing of the 24th Punjaub Infantry; and two troops of the
Guides Cavalry; and having also sent orders for the Highland Light
Infantry and four guns of the 10th Field Battery to follow him at once.
He was determined to make a fresh attack on Agrah, and burn the village
of Gat, which had only been partially destroyed. And this attack was
fixed for the 5th. By that date the big 12-pounder guns of the Field
Battery were to have arrived, and the fire of fourteen pieces would
have been concentrated on the enemy's position. Every one was anxious to
carry matters to a conclusion with the tribesmen at all costs.

On the 3rd, the force was ordered to take and burn the village of
Badelai, against which, it may be remembered, the Buffs had advanced on
the 16th, and from which they had been recalled in a hurry to support
the 35th Sikhs. The attack and destruction of the village presented
no new features; the tribesmen offered little resistance, and retired
before the troops. But as soon as the brigade began its homeward march,
they appeared in much larger numbers than had hitherto been seen. As
the cavalry could not work among the nullahs and the broken ground, the
enemy advanced boldly into the plain. In a great crescent, nearly four
miles long, they followed the retiring troops. A brisk skirmish began at
about 800 yards. Both batteries came into action, each firing about
90 shells. The Royal West Kent Regiment made good shooting with their
Lee-Metford rifles. All the battalions of the brigade were engaged. The
enemy, whose strength was estimated to be over 3000, lost heavily, and
drew off at 2.30, when the force returned to camp. Sir Bindon Blood
and his staff watched the operations and reconnoitered the valley. The
casualties were as follows:--

  Royal West Kent--dangerously wounded, 1.
  Guides Cavalry--wounded, 2.
  31st Punjaub Infantry--killed, 1; wounded, 5.
  Guides Infantry--wounded, 3.
  38th Dogras--killed, 1; wounded, 3.
         Total casualties, 16.


The next day the Highland Light Infantry and the field guns arrived. The
former marched in over 700 strong, and made a fine appearance. They were
nearly equal in numbers to any two battalions in the brigade. Sickness
and war soon reduce the fighting strength. The guns had accomplished a
great feat in getting over the difficult and roadless country. They had
had to make their own track, and in many places the guns had been drawn
by hand. The 10th Field Battery had thus gone sixty miles further
into the hill country than any other wheeled traffic. They had quite
a reception when they arrived. The whole camp turned out to look with
satisfaction on the long polished tubes, which could throw twelve pounds
a thousand yards further than the mountain guns could throw seven. They
were, however, not destined to display their power. The Mamunds had
again sued for peace. They were weary of the struggle. Their valley was
desolate. The season of sowing the autumn crops approached. The arrival
of reinforcements convinced them that the Government were determined
to get their terms. Major Deane came up himself to conduct the
negotiations. Meanwhile all important operations were suspended, though
the foraging and "sniping" continued as usual.

The force was now large enough for two brigades to be formed, and on
the arrival of Brigadier-General Meiklejohn it was reconstituted as
follows:--

                  1st Brigade.
  Commanding--Brigadier-General Meiklejohn, C.B., C.M.G.
            Highland Light Infantry.
            31st Punjaub Infantry.
            4 Cos. 24th Punjaub Infantry.
            10th Field Battery.
            No.7 British Mountain Battery.

                  2nd Brigade.
       Commanding--Brigadier-General Jeffries, C.B.
                 The Royal West Kent.
                 38th Dogras.
                 Guides Infantry.
                 No.8 Mountain Battery.
                 The Guides Cavalry.


The camp was greatly extended and covered a large area of ground. In the
evenings, the main street presented an animated appearance. Before the
sun went down, the officers of the different regiments, distinguished
by their brightly-coloured field caps, would assemble to listen to the
pipes of the Scottish Infantry, or stroll up and down discussing the
events of the day and speculating on the chances of the morrow. As the
clear atmosphere of the valley became darkened by the shadows of the
night, and the colours of the hills faded into an uniform black, the
groups would gather round the various mess tents, and with vermuth,
cigarettes and conversation pass away the pleasant half-hour before
dinner and "sniping" began.

I would that it were in my power to convey to the reader, who has not
had the fortune to live with troops on service, some just appreciation
of the compensations of war. The healthy, open-air life, the vivid
incidents, the excitement, not only of realisation, but of anticipation,
the generous and cheery friendships, the chances of distinction which
are open to all, invest life with keener interests and rarer pleasures.
The uncertainty and importance of the present, reduce the past and
future to comparative insignificance, and clear the mind of minor
worries. And when all is over, memories remain, which few men do not
hold precious. As to the hardships, these though severe may be endured.
Ascetics and recluses have in their endeavours to look beyond the grave
suffered worse things. Nor will the soldier in the pursuit of fame and
the enjoyment of the pleasures of war, be exposed to greater discomforts
than Diogenes in his tub, or the Trappists in their monastery. Besides
all this, his chances of learning about the next world are infinitely
greater. And yet, when all has been said, we are confronted with a
mournful but stubborn fact. In this contrary life, so prosaic is the
mind of man, so material his soul, so poor his spirit, that there is no
one who has been six months on active duty who is not delighted to get
safe home again, to the comfortable monotonies of peace.




CHAPTER XV: THE WORK OF THE CAVALRY



The negotiations of the Mamunds had this time opened under more
propitious circumstances. The tribesmen were convinced by the arrival of
the large reinforcements that the Government were in earnest. The return
of "the big general," as they called Sir Bindon Blood, to distinguish
him from the brigadiers, impressed them with the fact that the
operations would be at once renewed, if they continued recalcitrant.
They had still a few villages unburned, and these they were anxious to
save. Besides, they disliked the look of the long topes, or field guns,
of whose powers they were uncertain. They therefore displayed a much
more humble spirit.

On the other hand, every one in the force had realised that there were
"more kicks than ha'pence" to be got out of the Mamund Valley. All the
villages in the plain had been destroyed. Only a few of those in the
hollows of the hills remained. To these the enemy had retired. In
Arrian's History of Alexander's Conquests we read the following passage:
"The men in Bazira [Bazira is the same as Bajaur], despairing of their
own affairs, abandoned the city... and fled to the rock, as the other
barbarians were doing. For all the inhabitants deserted the cities,
and began to fly to the rock which is in their land." Then it was that
Alexander's difficulties began. Nor need we wonder, when the historian
gravely asserts that "so stupendous is the rock in this land... that it
was found impregnable even by Heracles, the son of Zeus." Thus history
repeats itself, and the people of Bajaur their tactics. There was,
however, no doubt as to the ability of the brigades to take and burn
any village they might select. At the same time it was certain that they
would encounter relays of Afghan tribesmen, and regular soldiers from
the Amir's army, and that they would lose officers and men in the
operation. The matter had to be carried to a conclusion at whatever
cost, but the sooner the end was reached, the better.

But in spite of the auguries of peace, the foraging parties were usually
fired upon, and this furnished several opportunities for the display of
the value of the cavalry. I shall avail myself of the occasion to review
the performances of the mounted arm during the operations. As soon as
the brigades entered Bajaur, the 11th Bengal Lancers were employed
more and more in that legitimate duty of cavalry--reconnaissance. Major
Beatson made daily expeditions towards the various valleys and passes
about which information was needed. This use of cavalry is an entirely
new one on the frontier--it having been thought that it was dangerous to
employ them in this way. Though horsemen need good ground to fight on
to advantage, they can easily move over any country, however broken,
and where they are boldly used, can collect as much information as is
necessary.

Reconnaissance is by no means the only opportunity for cavalry
employment on the frontier. They are as formidable in offensive tactics
as they are useful in collecting intelligence.

The task which is usually confided to them in these mountain actions is
to protect one of the flanks. The ground hardly ever admits of charging
in any formation, and it is necessary for the men to use their carbines.
On 30th September the cavalry were so employed. On the left of the
hostile position was a wide valley full of scrubby trees, and stone
walls, and occupied by large numbers of the enemy. Had these tribesmen
been able to debouch from this valley, they would have fallen on the
flank of the brigade, and the situation would have become one of danger.
For five hours two weak squadrons of the Guides Cavalry were sufficient
to hold them in check.

The methods they employed are worth noticing. Little groups of six or
seven men were dismounted, and these with their carbines replied to the
enemy's fire. Other little groups of mounted men remained concealed in
nullahs or hollows, or behind obstacles. Whenever the enemy tried to
rush one of the dismounted parties, and to do so advanced from the bad
ground, the mounted patrols galloped forward and chased them back to
cover. The terror that these tribesmen have of cavalry contrasts with
their general character. It was a beautiful display of cavalry tactics
in this kind of warfare, and, considering the enormous numbers of the
enemy, who were thus kept from participating in the main action, it
demonstrated the power and value of the mounted arm with convincing
force.

On the 6th of October, I witnessed some very similar work, though on a
smaller scale. A squadron was engaged in covering the operations of
a foraging party. A line of patrols, moving rapidly about, presented
difficult targets to the enemy's sharpshooters. I found the remainder of
the squadron dismounted in rear of a large bank of stones. Twenty
sowars with their carbines were engaged in firing at the enemy, who had
occupied a morcha--a small stone fort--some 300 yards away. Desultory
skirmishing continued for some time, shots being fired from the hills,
half a mile away, as well as from the morcha. Bullets kept falling near
the bank, but the cover it afforded was good and no one was hurt. At
length word was brought that the foraging was finished and that the
squadron was to retire under cover of the infantry. Now came a moment of
some excitement. The officer in command knew well that the instant his
men were mounted they would be fired at from every point which the enemy
held. He ordered the first troop to mount, and the second to cover the
retirement. The men scrambled into their saddles, and spreading out into
an extended line cantered away towards a hollow about 300 yards distant.
Immediately there was an outburst of firing. The dust rose in spurts
near the horsemen, and the bullets whistled about their ears. No one was
however hit. Meanwhile, the remaining troop had been keeping up a rapid
fire on the enemy to cover their retirement. It now became their turn
to go. Firing a parting volley the men ran to their horses, mounted, and
followed the first troop at a hand-gallop, extending into a long line
as they did so. Again the enemy opened fire, and again the dusty ground
showed that the bullets were well directed. Again, however, nobody was
hurt, and the sowars reached the hollow, laughing and talking in high
glee. The morning's skirmish had, nevertheless, cost the squadron a man
and a horse, both severely wounded.

Such affairs as these were of almost daily occurrence during the time
that the 2nd Brigade occupied the camp at Inayat Kila. They were of the
greatest value in training the soldiers. The Guides Cavalry know all
there is to know of frontier war, but there are many other regiments who
would be made infinitely more powerful fighting organisations if they
were afforded the opportunity for such experience.

The great feature which the war of 1897 on the Indian Frontier has
displayed is the extraordinary value of cavalry. At Shabkadr a charge
of the 13th Bengal Lancers was more than successful. In the Swat Valley,
during the relief of Chakdara, the Guides Cavalry and 11th Bengal
Lancers inflicted the most terrible loss on the enemy. To quote the
words of Sir Bindon Blood's official report to the Adjutant-General,
these regiments, "eager for vengeance, pursued, cut up and speared
them in every direction, leaving their bodies thickly strewn over the
fields." Again, after the action of Landakai, the cavalry made a most
vigorous pursuit and killed large numbers of the enemy. While I was with
the Malakand Field Force, I was a witness of the constant employment
of the cavalry, and was several times informed by general officers that
they would gladly have a larger number at their disposal. The reader may
recall some of the numerous instances which these pages have recorded of
cavalry work. On the morning of the 15th September, it was the cavalry
who were able to catch up the enemy before they could reach the hills,
and take some revenge for the losses of the night. In the action of the
16th, the charge of Captain Cole's squadron brought the whole attack
of the enemy to a standstill, and enabled the infantry by their fire to
convert the hesitation of the tribesmen into a retreat. Indeed, in every
fight in the Mamund Valley, the cavalry were the first in, and the last
out. In the official despatches Sir Bindon Blood thus alludes to the
work of the cavalry:--"I would now wish to invite attention to the
invaluable nature of the services rendered by the cavalry. At Nawagai,
three squadrons of the 11th Bengal Lancers swept the country everywhere
that cavalry could go, carrying out reconnaissances, protecting
signalling parties and watching every movement of the enemy. In the
Mamund Valley a squadron of the same regiment, under Captain E.H. Cole,
took part in every engagement that occurred while they were there,
establishing such a reputation that the enemy, even when in greatly
superior numbers, never dared to face them in the open. Afterwards, when
Captain Cole and his men left the Mamund Valley, the Guides Cavalry,
under Lieut.-Col. Adams, being in greater strength, acted still more
effectually in the same manner, showing tactical skill of a high order,
combined with conspicuous gallantry."--Official Despatches. From Gazette
of India, 3rd December, 1897.

There has been a boom in cavalry. But one section, and that the most
important, has been deprived of its share in the good fortune. The
authorities have steadily refused to allow any British cavalry to cross
the frontier. Of course this is defended on the ground of expense.
"British cavalry costs so much," it is said, "and natives do the work
just as well." "Better," say some. But it is a poor kind of economy thus
to discourage a most expensive and important branch of the service. The
ambition that a young officer entering the army ought to set before him,
is to lead his own men in action. This ought to inspire his life, and
animate his effort. "Stables" will no longer be dull, when he realises
that on the fitness of his horses, his life and honour may one day
depend. If he thinks that his men may soon be asked to stand beside him
at a pinch, he will no longer be bored by their interests and affairs.
But when he realises that all is empty display, and that his regiment is
a sword too costly to be drawn, he naturally loses keenness and betakes
himself to polo as a consolation. It is a good one.

It was my fortune to meet many young men in frontier regiments, both
cavalry and infantry, who had already served in three, and even four,
campaigns. Daring, intelligent and capable, they are proofs of the value
of their training, and are fit to lead their men under any conditions,
and in any country. Subalterns in British cavalry regiments do
occasionally manage to see a little active service as transport
officers, signalling officers, war correspondents, or on the staff;
but to lead in the field the men they have trained in peace, is a
possibility which is never worth contemplating. To the young man who
wants to enjoy himself, to spend a few years agreeably in a military
companionship, to have an occupation--the British cavalry will be
suited. But to the youth who means to make himself a professional
soldier, an expert in war, a specialist in practical tactics, who
desires a hard life of adventure and a true comradeship in arms, I would
recommend the choice of some regiment on the frontier, like those fine
ones I have seen, the Guides and the 11th Bengal Lancers.

I am aware that those who criticise an existing state of things ought
to be prepared with some constructive legislation which would remedy the
evils they denounce. Though it is unlikely that the Government of India
will take my advice, either wholly or in good part, I hereby exhort them
to quit the folly of a "penny wise" policy, and to adhere consistently
to the principles of employing British and native troops in India in
a regular proportion. That is to say, that when two native cavalry
regiments have been sent on service across the frontier, the third
cavalry regiment so sent shall be British.

Besides this, in order to give cavalry officers as many opportunities
of seeing active service as possible, subalterns should be allowed to
volunteer for emergency employment with native cavalry. I have talked to
several officers who command native cavalry regiments, and they tell me
that such an arrangement would work excellently, and that, as they are
always short of officers, it would supply a want. I would suggest that
subalterns should, with the approval of their colonels, be attached to
the native regiment, and after passing in Hindustani and being reported
as qualified to serve with the native troops, be considered available
for employment as described. I shall be told there are financial
difficulties. I do not believe this. There are plenty of cavalry
subalterns whose eagerness to see service is so strong, that they would
submit to any arrangement that the rapacity of Government might impose.
Indeed there is no reason that an actual economy should not be effected.
The sums of money that the Indian Government offer, as rewards for
officers who can speak Hindustani, have not hitherto tempted many
cavalry officers to make a study of the language. Here is an incentive,
more powerful and costing nothing.

To be technical is, I am aware, a serious offence, and I realise that if
this book ever obtained so evil a reputation it would be shunned, as the
House of Commons is shunned on a Service night. I have strayed far
away from the Malakand Field Force into the tangled paths of military
controversy, and I must beg the reader to forgive, as he will surely
forget, what has been written.

The fighting described in the last chapter, and the continual drain of
disease, had again filled the field hospitals, and in order to preserve
the mobility of the force, it was decided to send all sick and wounded
down to the base at once. The journey--over 100 miles by road--would
take nearly a fortnight, and the jolting and heat made such an
experience a painful and weary one to injured men. But the stern
necessities of war render these things inevitable, and the desire of the
men to get nearer home soothes much of their suffering. The convoy of
sick and wounded was to be escorted as far as the Panjkora River by the
Royal West Kent, who were themselves in need of some recuperation. To
campaign in India without tents is always a trial to a British regiment;
and when it is moved to the front from some unhealthy station like
Peshawar, Delhi, or Mian Mir, and the men are saturated with fever and
weakened by the summer heats, the sick list becomes long and serious.
Typhoid from drinking surface water, and the other various kinds of
fever which follow exposure to the heats of the day or the chills of
the night, soon take a hundred men from the fighting strength, and the
general of an Indian frontier force has to watch with equal care the
movements of the enemy and the fluctuations of the hospital returns. As
soon, therefore, as Sir Bindon Blood saw that the Mamunds were desirous
of peace, and that no further operations against them were probable, he
sent one of his British regiments to their tents near the Panjkora.

About sixty wounded men from the actions of 30th September and 3rd
October, and the same number of sick, formed the bulk of the convoy. The
slight cases are carried on camels, in cradles made by cutting a native
bedstead in two, and called "Kajawas." The more serious cases are
carried in doolies or litters, protected from the sun by white curtains,
and borne by four natives. Those who are well enough ride on mules. The
infantry escort is disposed along the line with every precaution that
can be suggested, but the danger of an attack upon the long straggling
string of doolies and animals in difficult and broken ground is a very
real and terrible one.

The cheeriness and patience of the wounded men exceeds belief. Perhaps
it is due to a realisation of the proximity in which they have stood to
death; perhaps partly to that feeling of relief with which a man turns
for a spell from war to peace. In any case it is remarkable. A poor
fellow--a private in the Buffs--was hit at Zagai, and had his arm
amputated at the shoulder. I expressed my sympathy, and he replied,
philosophically: "You can't make omelettes without breaking eggs," and
after a pause added, with much satisfaction, "The regiment did well that
day." He came of a fighting stock, but I could not help speculating on
the possible future which awaited him. Discharge from the service as
medically unfit, some miserable pension insufficient to command any
pleasures but those of drink, a loafer's life, and a pauper's grave.
Perhaps the regiment--the officers, that is to say--would succeed in
getting him work, and would from their own resources supplement his
pension. But what a wretched and discreditable system is that, by which
the richest nation in the world neglects the soldiers who have served it
well, and which leaves to newspaper philanthropy, to local institutions,
and to private charity, a burden which ought to be proudly borne by the
State.

Starting at six, the column reached Jar, a march of eight miles, at
about ten o'clock. Here we were joined by a wing of the 24th Punjaub
Infantry, who were coming up to relieve the Royal West Kents. The camp
at Jar has the disadvantage of being commanded by a hill to the north,
and the Salarzais, another pestilent tribe, whose name alone is an
infliction, delight to show their valour by firing at the troops during
the night. Of course this could be prevented by moving the camp out of
range of this hill. But then, unfortunately, it would be commanded by
another hill to the south, from which the Shamozai section of the Utman
Khels--to whom my former remarks also apply--would be able to amuse
themselves. The inconvenience of the situation had therefore to be
faced.

We had not been long in camp before the eldest son of the Khan of Jar,
who had been comparatively loyal during the operations, came to inform
the colonel in command that there would be "sniping" that night. Certain
evil men, he said, had declared their intention of destroying the force,
but he, the heir-apparent to the Khanate of Jar, and the ally of the
Empress, would protect us. Four pickets of his own regular army should
watch the camp, that our slumbers might not be disturbed, and when
challenged by the sentries, they would reply, "chokidar" (watchman).
This all seemed very satisfactory, but we entrenched ourselves as usual,
not, as we explained, because we doubted our protector's powers or
inclinations, buy merely as a matter of form.

At midnight precisely, the camp was awakened by a dozen shots in rapid
succession. The khan's pickets could be heard expostulating with the
enemy, who replied by jeers and bitter remarks.

The firing continued for an hour, when the "snipers," having satisfied
their honour, relieved their feelings and expended their cartridges,
went away rejoicing. The troops throughout remained silent, and
vouchsafed no reply.

It may seem difficult to believe that fifty bullets could fall in a
camp, only 100 yards square--crowded with animals and men--without any
other result than to hit a single mule in the tail. Such was, however,
the fact. This shows of what value, a little active service is to the
soldier. The first time he is under fire, he imagines himself to be in
great danger. He thinks that every bullet is going to hit him, and that
every shot is aimed at him. Assuredly he will be killed in a moment. If
he goes through this ordeal once or twice, he begins to get some idea of
the odds in his favour. He has heard lots of bullets and they have not
hurt him. He will get home safely to his tea this evening, just as
he did the last time. He becomes a very much more effective fighting
machine.

From a military point of view, the perpetual frontier wars in one corner
or other of the Empire are of the greatest value. This fact may one day
be proved, should our soldiers ever be brought into contact with some
peace-trained, conscript army, in anything like equal numbers.

Though the firing produced very little effect on the troops--most of
whom had been through the experience several times before--it was
a severe trial to the wounded, whose nerves, shattered by pain and
weakness, were unable to bear the strain. The surgeon in charge--Major
Tyrell--told me that the poor fellows quivered at every shot as if in
anticipation of a blow. A bullet in the leg will made a brave man a
coward. A blow on the head will make a wise man a fool. Indeed I have
read that a sufficiency of absinthe can make a good man a knave. The
triumph of mind over matter does not seem to be quite complete as yet.

I saw a strange thing happen, while the firing was going on, which
may amuse those who take an interest in the habits and development of
animals. Just in front of my tent, which was open, was a clear space,
occupied by a flock of goats and sheep. The brilliant moonlight made
everything plainly visible. Every time a bullet whistled over them or
struck the ground near, they ducked and bobbed in evident terror. An
officer, who also noticed this, told me it was the first time they had
been under fire; and I have been wondering ever since, whether this
explains their fear, or makes it more inexplicable.

I have devoted a good deal in this chapter to the account of the
"sniping" at Jar on the night of the 9th of October, and, perhaps, a
critic may inquire, why so much should be written about so common an
incident. It is, however, because this night firing is so common a
feature, that I feel no picture of the war on the Indian frontier would
be complete without some account of it.

The next day we crossed the Panjkora River, and I started to ride down
the line of communications to the base at Nowshera. At each stage some
of the comforts of civilisation and peace reappeared. At Panjkora we
touched the telegraph wire; at Sarai were fresh potatoes; ice was to be
had at Chakdara; a comfortable bed at the Malakand; and at length, at
Nowshera, the railway. But how little these things matter after all.
When they are at hand, they seem indispensable, but when they cannot be
obtained, they are hardly missed. A little plain food, and a philosophic
temperament, are the only necessities of life.

I shall not take the reader farther from the scene of action. He is free
and his imagination may lead him back to the highland valleys, where he
may continue for a space among camps and men, and observe the conclusion
of the drama.





CHAPTER XVI: SUBMISSION


   "Their eyes were sunken and weary
      With a sort of listless woe,
    And they looked from their desolate eyrie
      Over the plains below.

   "Two had wounds from a sabre,
      And one from an Enfield Ball."

                 "Rajpoot Rebels," LYALL.



At last the negotiations with the Mamunds began to reach a conclusion.
The tribe were really desirous of peace, and prepared to make any
sacrifices to induce the brigades to leave the valley. The Khan of Khar
now proved of valuable assistance. He consistently urged them to make
peace with the Sirkar, and assured them that the troops would not go
away until they had their rifles back. Finally the Mamunds said they
would get the rifles. But the path of repentance was a stony one. On the
very night that the tribesmen decided for peace at any price, a thousand
warlike Afghans, spoiling for a fight, arrived from the Kunar Valley,
on the other side of the mountains, and announced their intention of
attacking the camp at once. The Mamunds expostulated with them. The
retainers of the Khan of Khar implored them not to be so rash. In the
end these unwelcome allies were persuaded to depart. But that night the
camp was warned that an attack was probable. The inlying pickets were
accordingly doubled, and every man slept in his clothes, so as to be
ready. The pathos of the situation was provided by the fact, that the
Mamunds were guarding us from our enemies. The wretched tribe, rather
than face a renewal of hostilities, had posted pickets all round the
camp to drive away "snipers" and other assailants. Their sincerity was
beyond suspicion.

The next day the first instalment of rifles was surrendered. Fifteen
Martini-Henrys taken on the 16th from the 35th Sikhs were brought into
camp, by the Khan of Khar's men, and deposited in front of the general's
tent. Nearly all were hacked and marked by sword cuts, showing that
their owners, the Sikhs, had perished fighting to the last. Perhaps,
these firearms had cost more in blood and treasure than any others ever
made. The remainder of the twenty-one were promised later, and have
since all been surrendered. But the rifles as they lay on the ground
were a bitter comment on the economic aspect of the "Forward Policy."
These tribes have nothing to surrender but their arms. To extort these
few, had taken a month, had cost many lives, and thousands of pounds. It
had been as bad a bargain as was ever made. People talk glibly of "the
total disarmament of the frontier tribes" as being the obvious policy.
No doubt such a result would be most desirable. But to obtain it would
be as painful and as tedious an undertaking, as to extract the stings of
a swarm of hornets, with naked fingers.

After the surrender of the rifles, the discussion of terms proceeded
with smoothness. Full jirgahs were sent to the camp from the tribe, and
gradually a definite understanding was reached. The tribesmen bewailed
the losses they had sustained. Why, they asked, had the Sirkar visited
them so heavily? Why, replied Major Deane, had they broken the peace and
attacked the camp? The elders of the tribe, following the practice of
all communities, threw the blame on their "young men." These had done
the evil, they declared. All had paid the penalty. At length definite
terms were agreed to, and a full durbar was arranged for the 11th of the
month for their ratification.

Accordingly on that date, at about one o'clock in the afternoon, a large
and representative jirgah of Mamunds, accompanied by the Khans of Khar,
Jar and Nawagai, arrived at the village of Nawa Kila, about half a mile
from the camp. At three o'clock Sir Bindon Blood, with Major Deane,
Chief Political Officer; Mr. Davis, Assistant Political Officer; most of
the Headquarters staff, and a few other officers, started, escorted by
a troop of the Guides Cavalry, for the durbar. The general on arrival
shook hands with the friendly khans, much to their satisfaction, and
took a seat which had been provided. The tribesmen formed three sides of
a square. The friendly khans were on the left with their retainers.
The Mamund jirgahs filled two other sides. Sir Bindon Blood, with Major
Deane on his left and his officers around him, occupied the fourth side.

Then the Mamunds solemnly tendered their submission. They expressed
their deep regret at their action, and deplored the disasters that had
befallen them. They declared, they had only fought because they feared
annexation. They agreed to expel the followers of Umra Khan from
the valley. They gave security for the rifles that had not yet been
surrendered. They were then informed that as they had suffered severe
punishment and had submitted, the Sirkar would exact no fine or further
penalty from them. At this they showed signs of gratification. The
durbar, which had lasted fifteen minutes, was ended by the whole of the
tribesmen swearing with uplifted hands to adhere to the terms and keep
the peace. They were then dismissed.

The losses sustained by the Mamunds in the fighting were ascertained to
be 350 killed, besides the wounded, with whom the hill villages were all
crowded, and who probably amounted to 700 or 800. This estimate takes no
account of the casualties among the transfrontier tribesmen, which were
presumably considerable, but regarding which no reliable information
could be obtained. Sir Bindon Blood offered them medical aid for their
wounded, but this they declined. They could not understand the motive,
and feared a stratagem. What the sufferings of these wretched men must
have been, without antiseptics or anaesthetics, is terrible to think
of. Perhaps, however, vigorous constitutions and the keen air of the
mountains were Nature's substitutes.

Thus the episode of the Mamund Valley came to an end. On the morning of
the 12th, the troops moved out of the camp at Inayat Kila for the last
time, and the long line of men, guns and transport animals, trailed
slowly away across the plain of Khar. The tribesmen gathered on the
hills to watch the departure of their enemies, but whatever feelings of
satisfaction they may have felt at the spectacle, were dissipated when
they turned their eyes towards their valley. Not a tower, not a fort
was to be seen. The villages were destroyed. The crops had been trampled
down. They had lost heavily in killed and wounded, and the winter was
at hand. No defiant shots pursued the retiring column. The ferocious
Mamunds were weary of war.

And as the soldiers marched away, their reflections could not have been
wholly triumphant. For a month they had held Inayat Kila, and during
that month they had been constantly fighting. The Mamunds were crushed.
The Imperial power had been asserted, but the cost was heavy. Thirty-one
officers and 251 men had been killed and wounded out of a fighting force
that had on no occasion exceeded 1200 men.

The casualties of General Jeffrey's brigade in the Mamund Valley were as
follows:--

  British Officers....  Killed or died of wounds    7
     "       "    ....  Wounded....    17
     "    Soldiers....  Killed ....     7
     "       "    ....  Wounded....    41
  Native Officers ....  Killed ....     0
     "       "    ....  Wounded....     7
     "   Soldiers ....  Killed ....    48
     "       "    ....  Wounded....   147
  Followers   ...... .....     8
                                      ----
                         Total.....   282

  Horses and mules..... .....   150


The main cause of this long list of casualties was, as I have already
written, the proximity of the Afghan border. But it would be unjust and
ungenerous to deny to the people of the Mamund Valley that reputation
for courage, tactical skill and marksmanship, which they have so well
deserved. During an indefinite period they had brawled and fought in
the unpenetrated gloom of barbarism. At length they struck a blow at
civilisation, and civilisation, though compelled to record the odious
vices that the fierce light of scientific war exposed, will yet
ungrudgingly admit that they are a brave and warlike race. Their name
will live in the minds of men for some years, even in this busy century,
and there are families in England who will never forget it. But perhaps
the tribesmen, sitting sullenly on the hillsides and contemplating the
ruin of their habitations, did not realise all this, or if they did,
still felt regret at having tried conclusions with the British Raj.
Their fame had cost them dear. Indeed, as we have been told, "nothing is
so expensive as glory."

The troops camped on the night of the 12th at Jar, and on the following
day moved up the Salarzai Valley to Matashah. Here they remained for
nearly a week. This tribe, terrified by the punishment of the Mamunds,
made no regular opposition, though the camp was fired into regularly
every night by a few hot-blooded "snipers." Several horses and
mules were hit, and a sowar in the Guides Cavalry was wounded. The
reconnaissances in force, which were sent out daily to the farther end
of the valley, were not resisted in any way, and the tribal jirgahs
used every effort to collect the rifles which they had been ordered to
surrender. By the 19th all were given up, and on the 20th the troops
moved back to Jar. There Sir Bindon Blood received the submission of the
Utman Khels, who brought in the weapons demanded from them, and paid a
fine as an indemnity for attacking the Malakand and Chakdara.

The soldiers, who were still in a fighting mood, watched with impatience
the political negotiations which produced so peaceful a triumph.

All Indian military commanders, from Lord Clive and Lord Clive's times
downwards, have inveighed against the practice of attaching civil
officers to field forces. It has been said, frequently with truth,
that they hamper the military operations, and by interfering with the
generals, infuse a spirit of vacillation into the plans. Although the
political officers of the Malakand Field Force were always personally
popular with their military comrades, there were many who criticised
their official actions, and disapproved of their presence. The duties of
the civil officers, in a campaign, are twofold: firstly, to negotiate,
and secondly, to collect information. It would seem that for the first
of these duties they are indispensable. The difficult language and
peculiar characters of the tribesmen are the study of a lifetime. A
knowledge of the local conditions, of the power and influence of
the khans, or other rulers of the people; of the general history and
traditions of the country, is a task which must be entirely specialised.
Rough and ready methods are excellent while the tribes resist, but
something more is required when they are anxious to submit. Men are
needed who understand the whole question, and all the details of the
quarrel, between the natives and the Government, and who can in some
measure appreciate both points of view. I do not believe that such are
to be found in the army. The military profession is alone sufficient to
engross the attention of the most able and accomplished man.

Besides this I cannot forget how many quiet nights the 2nd Brigade
enjoyed at Inayat Kila when the "snipers" were driven away by the
friendly pickets; how many fresh eggs and water melons were procured,
and how easily letters and messages were carried about the country [As
correspondent of the Pioneer, I invariably availed myself of this method
of sending the press telegrams to the telegraph office at Panjkora, and
though the route lay through twenty miles of the enemy's country, these
messages not only never miscarried, but on several occasions arrived
before the official despatches or any heliographed news. By similar
agency the bodies of Lieutenant-Colonel O'Bryen and Lieutenant
Browne-Clayton, killed in the attack upon Agrah on the 30th of
September, were safely and swiftly conveyed to Malakand for burial.]
through the relations which the political officers, Mr. Davis and Mr.
Gunter, maintained, under very difficult circumstances, with these
tribesmen, who were not actually fighting us.

Respecting the second duty, it is difficult to believe that the
collection of information as to the numbers and intentions of the
enemy would not be better and more appropriately carried out by the
Intelligence Department and the cavalry. Civil officers should not
be expected to understand what kind of military information a general
requires. It is not their business. I am aware that Mr. Davis procured
the most correct intelligence about the great night attack at Nawagai,
and thus gave ample warning to Sir Bindon Blood. But on the other hand
the scanty information available about the Mamunds, previous to the
action of the 16th, was the main cause of the severe loss sustained on
that day. Besides, the incessant rumours of a night attack on Inayat
Kila, kept the whole force in their boots about three nights each week.
Civil officers should discharge diplomatic duties, and military officers
the conduct of war. And the collection of information is one of the
most important of military duties. Our Pathan Sepoys, the Intelligence
Branch, and an enterprising cavalry, should obtain all the facts that
a general requires to use in his plans. At least the responsibility can
thus be definitely assigned.

On one point, however, I have no doubts. The political officers must be
under the control of the General directing the operations. There must be
no "Imperium in imperio." In a Field Force one man only can command--and
all in it must be under his authority. Differences, creating
difficulties and leading to disasters, will arise whenever the political
officers are empowered to make arrangements with the tribesmen, without
consulting and sometimes without even informing the man on whose
decisions the success of the war and the lives of the soldiers directly
depend.

The subject is a difficult one to discuss, without wounding the feelings
of those gallant men, who take all the risks of war, while the campaign
lasts, and, when it is over, live in equal peril of their lives among
the savage populations, whose dispositions they study, and whose tempers
they watch. I am glad to have done with it.

During the stay of the brigades in Bajaur, there had been several cases
of desertion among the Afridi Sepoys. On one occasion five men of the
24th Punjaub Infantry, who were out on picket, departed in a body, and
taking their arms with them set off towards Tirah and the Khyber Pass.
As I have recorded several instances of gallantry and conduct among the
Afridis and Pathans in our ranks, it is only fitting that the reverse
of the medal should be shown. The reader, who may be interested in
the characters of the subject races of the Empire, and of the native
soldiers, on whom so much depends, will perhaps pardon a somewhat long
digression on the subject of Pathans and Sikhs.

It should not be forgotten by those who make wholesale assertions of
treachery and untrustworthiness against the Afridi and Pathan soldiers,
that these men are placed in a very strange and false position. They are
asked to fight against their countrymen and co-religionists. On the
one side are accumulated all the forces of fanaticism, patriotism and
natural ties. On the other military associations stand alone. It is no
doubt a grievous thing to be false to an oath of allegiance, but there
are other obligations not less sacred. To respect an oath is a duty
which the individual owes to society. Yet, who would by his evidence
send a brother to the gallows? The ties of nature are older and take
precedence of all other human laws. When the Pathan is invited to
suppress his fellow-countrymen, or even to remain a spectator of their
suppression, he finds himself in a situation at which, in the words
of Burke, "Morality is perplexed, reason staggered, and from which
affrighted nature recoils."

There are many on the frontier who realise these things, and who
sympathise with the Afridi soldier in his dilemma. An officer of the
Guides Infantry, of long experience and considerable distinction, who
commands both Sikhs and Afridis, and has led both many times in action,
writes as follows: "Personally, I don't blame any Afridis who desert
to go and defend their own country, now that we have invaded it, and I
think it is only natural and proper that they should want to do so."

Such an opinion may be taken as typical of the views of a great number
of officers, who have some title to speak on the subject, as it is one
on which their lives might at any moment depend.

The Sikh is the guardian of the Marches. He was originally invented to
combat the Pathan. His religion was designed to be diametrically opposed
to Mahommedanism. It was a shrewd act of policy. Fanaticism was met by
fanaticism. Religious abhorrence was added to racial hatred. The Pathan
invaders were rolled back to the mountains, and the Sikhs established
themselves at Lahore and Peshawar. The strong contrast, and much of the
animosity, remain to-day. The Sikh wears his hair down to his waist; the
Pathan shaves his head. The Sikh drinks what he will; the Pathan is
an abstainer. The Sikh is burnt after death; the Pathan would be thus
deprived of Paradise. As a soldier the Pathan is a finer shot, a hardier
man, a better marcher, especially on the hillside, and possibly an even
more brilliant fighter. He relies more on instinct than education: war
is in his blood; he is a born marksman, but he is dirty, lazy and a
spendthrift.

In the Sikh the more civilised man appears. He does not shoot naturally,
but he learns by patient practice. He is not so tough as the Pathan, but
he delights in feats of strength--wrestling, running, or swimming. He is
a much cleaner soldier and more careful. He is frequently parsimonious,
and always thrifty, and does not generally feed himself as well as the
Pathan. [Indeed in some regiments the pay of very thin Sikhs is given
them in the form of food, and they have to be carefully watched by their
officers till they get fat and strong.]

There are some who say that the Sikh will go on under circumstances
which will dishearten and discourage his rival, and that if the latter
has more dash he has less stamina. The assertion is not supported by
facts. In 1895, when Lieut.-Colonel Battye was killed near the Panjkora
River and the Guides were hard pressed, the subadar of the Afridi
company, turning to his countrymen, shouted: "Now, then, Afridi folk of
the Corps of Guides, the Commanding Officer's killed, now's the time
to charge!" and the British officers had the greatest difficulty in
restraining these impetuous soldiers from leaving their position, and
rushing to certain death. The story recalls the speech of the famous
cavalry colonel at the action of Tamai, when the squares were seen to be
broken, and an excited and demoralised correspondent galloped wildly up
to the squadrons, declaring that all was lost. "How do you mean, 'all's
lost'? Don't you see the 10th Hussars are here?" There are men in the
world who derive as stern an exultation from the proximity of disaster
and ruin as others from success, and who are more magnificent in defeat
than others are in victory. Such spirits are undoubtedly to be found
among the Afridis and Pathans.

I will quote, in concluding this discussion, the opinion of an old
Gurkha subadar who had seen much fighting. He said that he liked the
Sikhs better, but would sooner have Afridis with him at a pinch than any
other breed of men in India. It is comfortable to reflect, that both are
among the soldiers of the Queen.

Although there were no Gurkhas in the Malakand Field Force, it is
impossible to consider Indian fighting races without alluding to these
wicked little men. In appearance they resemble a bronze Japanese. Small,
active and fierce, ever with a cheery grin on their broad faces, they
combine the dash of the Pathan with the discipline of the Sikh. They
spend all their money on food, and, unhampered by religion, drink, smoke
and swear like the British soldier, in whose eyes they find more favour
than any other--as he regards them--breed of "niggers." They are pure
mercenaries, and, while they welcome the dangers, they dislike the
prolongation of a campaign, being equally eager to get back to their
wives and to the big meat meals of peace time.

After the Utman Khels had been induced to comply with the terms, the
brigades recrossed the Panjkora River, and then marching by easy stages
down the line of communications, returned to the Malakand. The Guides,
moving back to Mardan, went into cantonments again, and turned in a
moment from war to peace. The Buffs, bitterly disappointed at having
lost their chance of joining in the Tirah expedition, remained at
Malakand in garrison. A considerable force was retained near Jalala, to
await the issue of the operations against the Afridis, and to be ready
to move against the Bunerwals, should an expedition be necessary.

Here we leave the Malakand Field Force. It may be that there is yet
another chapter of its history which remains to be written, and that
the fine regiments of which it is composed will, under their trusted
commander, have other opportunities of playing the great game of war.
If that be so, the reader shall decide whether the account shall prolong
the tale I have told, or whether the task shall fall to another hand.
[It is an excellent instance of the capricious and haphazard manner in
which honours and rewards are bestowed in the army, that the operations
in the Mamund Valley and throughout Bajaur are commemorated by no
distinctive clasp. The losses sustained by the Brigade were indisputably
most severe. The result was successful. The conduct of the troops has
been officially commended. Yet the soldiers who were engaged in all the
rough fighting I have described in the last eight chapters have been
excluded from any of the special clasps which have been struck. They
share the general clasp with every man who crossed the frontier and with
some thousands who never saw a shot fired.]





CHAPTER XVII: MILITARY OBSERVATIONS


   "... And thou hast talk'd
    Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents,
    Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,
    Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin."

            "Henry IV.," Part I., Act ii., Sc.3.



It may at first seem that a chapter wholly devoted to military
considerations is inappropriate to a book which, if it is to enjoy any
measure of success, must be read by many unconnected with the army. But
I remember that in these days it is necessary for every one, who means
to be well informed, to have a superficial knowledge of every one else's
business. Encouraged also by what Mr. Gladstone has called "the growing
militarism of the times," I hope that, avoiding technicalities, it may
be of some general interest to glance for a moment at the frontier war
from a purely professional point of view. My observations must be taken
as applying to the theatre of the war I have described, but I do not
doubt that many of them will be applicable to the whole frontier.

The first and most important consideration is transport. Nobody who has
not seen for himself can realise what a great matter this is. I well
recall my amazement, when watching a camel convoy more than a mile and a
half long, escorted by half a battalion of infantry. I was informed
that it contained only two days' supplies for one brigade. People talk
lightly of moving columns hither and thither, as if they were mobile
groups of men, who had only to march about the country and fight
the enemy wherever found, and very few understand that an army is a
ponderous mass which drags painfully after it a long chain of advanced
depots, stages, rest camps, and communications, by which it is securely
fastened to a stationary base. In these valleys, where wheeled traffic
is impossible, the difficulties and cost of moving supplies are
enormous; and as none, or very few, are to be obtained within the
country, the consideration is paramount. Mule transport is for many
reasons superior to camel transport. The mule moves faster and can
traverse more difficult ground. He is also more hardy and keeps in
better condition. When Sir Bindon Blood began his advance against the
Mohmands he equipped his 2nd Brigade entirely with mules. It was thus
far more mobile, and was available for any rapid movement that might
become necessary. To mix the two--camels and mules--appears to combine
the disadvantages of both, and destroy the superiority of either.

I have already described the Indian service camp and the "sniping"
without which no night across the frontier could be complete. I shall
therefore only notice two points, which were previously omitted, as they
looked suspiciously technical. As the night firing is sometimes varied
by more serious attacks, and even actual assaults and sword rushes, it
is thought advisable to have the ditch of the entrenchment towards the
enemy. Modern weapons notwithstanding, the ultimate appeal is to
the bayonet, and the advantage of being on the higher ground is then
considerable.

When a battery forms part of the line round a camp, infantry soldiers
should be placed between the guns. Artillery officers do not like this;
but, though they are very good fellows, there are some things in which
it is not well to give way to them. Every one is prone to over-estimate
the power of his arm.

In the Mamund Valley all the fighting occurred in capturing villages,
which lay in rocky and broken ground in the hollows of the mountains,
and were defended by a swarm of active riflemen. Against the quickly
moving figures of the enemy it proved almost useless to fire volleys.
The tribesmen would dart from rock to rock, exposing themselves only for
an instant, and before the attention of a section could be directed to
them and the rifles aimed, the chance and the target would have vanished
together. Better results were obtained by picking out good shots and
giving them permission to fire when they saw their opportunity, without
waiting for the word of command. But speaking generally, infantry should
push on to the attack with the bayonet without wasting much time in
firing, which can only result in their being delayed under the fire of a
well-posted enemy.

After the capture and destruction of the village, the troops had always
to return to camp, and a retirement became necessary. The difficulty of
executing such an operation in the face of an active and numerous enemy,
armed with modern rifles, was great. I had the opportunity of witnessing
six of these retirements from the rear companies. Five were fortunate
and one was disastrous, but all were attended with loss, and as
experienced officers have informed me, with danger. As long as no one is
hit everything is successful, but as soon as a few men are wounded, the
difficulties begin. No sooner has a point been left--a knoll, a patch of
corn, some rocks, or any other incident of ground--than it is seized by
the enemy. With their excellent rifles, they kill or wound two or three
of the retiring company, whose somewhat close formation makes them a
good mark. Now, in civilised war these wounded would be left on the
ground, and matters arranged next day by parley. But on the frontier,
where no quarter is asked or given, to carry away the wounded is a
sacred duty. It is also the strenuous endeavour of every regiment
to carry away their dead. The vile and horrid mutilations which the
tribesmen inflict on all bodies that fall into their hands, and the
insults to which they expose them, add, to unphilosophic minds, another
terror to death. Now, it takes at least four men, and very often more,
to carry away a body. Observe the result. Every man hit, means five
rifles withdrawn from the firing line. Ten men hit, puts a company out
of action, as far as fighting power is concerned. The watchful enemy
press. The groups of men bearing the injured are excellent targets.
Presently the rear-guard is encumbered with wounded. Then a vigorous
charge with swords is pushed home. Thus, a disaster occurs.

Watching the progress of events, sometimes from one regiment, sometimes
from another, I observed several ways by which these difficulties could
be avoided. The Guides, long skilled in frontier war, were the most
valuable instructors. As the enemy seize every point as soon as it
is left, all retirements should be masked by leaving two or three men
behind from each company. These keep up a brisk fire, and after the
whole company have taken up a new position, or have nearly done so,
they run back and join them. Besides this, the fire of one company in
retiring should always be arranged to cover another, and at no moment in
a withdrawal should the firing ever cease. The covering company should
be actually in position before the rear company begins to move, and
should open fire at once. I was particularly struck on 18th September by
the retirement of the Guides Infantry. These principles were carried
out with such skill and thoroughness that, though the enemy pressed
severely, only one man was wounded. The way in which Major Campbell, the
commanding officer, availed himself of the advantages of retiring down
two spurs and bringing a cross fire to bear to cover the alternate
retirements, resembled some intricate chess problem, rather than a
military evolution.

The power of the new Lee-Metford rifle with the new Dum-Dum bullet--it
is now called, though not officially, the "ek-dum" [Hindustani for "at
once."] bullet--is tremendous. The soldiers who have used it have
the utmost confidence in their weapon. Up to 500 yards there is no
difficulty about judging the range, as it shoots quite straight, or,
technically speaking, has a flat trajectory. This is of the greatest
value. Of the bullet it may be said, that its stopping power is all
that could be desired. The Dum-Dum bullet, though not explosive, is
expansive. The original Lee-Metford bullet was a pellet of lead covered
by a nickel case with an opening at the base. In the improved bullet
this outer case has been drawn backward, making the hole in the base a
little smaller and leaving the lead at the tip exposed. The result is a
wonderful and from the technical point of view a beautiful machine. On
striking a bone this causes the bullet to "set up" or spread out, and it
then tears and splinters everything before it, causing wounds which
in the body must be generally mortal and in any limb necessitate
amputation. Continental critics have asked whether such a bullet is not
a violation of the Geneva or St. Petersburg Conventions; but no clause
of these international agreements forbids expansive bullets, and the
only provision on the subject is that shells less than a certain size
shall not be employed. I would observe that bullets are primarily
intended to kill, and that these bullets do their duty most effectually,
without causing any more pain to those struck by them, than the ordinary
lead variety. As the enemy obtained some Lee-Metford rifles and Dum-Dum
ammunition during the progress of the fighting, information on this
latter point is forthcoming. The sensation is described as similar to
that produced by any bullet--a violent numbing blow, followed by a sense
of injury and weakness, but little actual pain at the time. Indeed,
now-a-days, very few people are so unfortunate as to suffer much pain
from wounds, except during the period of recovery. A man is hit. In a
quarter of an hour, that is to say, before the shock has passed away and
the pain begins, he is usually at the dressing station. Here he is given
morphia injections, which reduce all sensations to a uniform dullness.
In this state he remains until he is placed under chloroform and
operated on.

The necessity for having the officers in the same dress as the men, was
apparent to all who watched the operations. The conspicuous figure which
a British officer in his helmet presented in contrast to the native
soldiers in their turbans, drew a well-aimed fire in his direction. Of
course, in British regiments, the difference is not nearly so marked.
Nevertheless, at close quarters the keen-eyed tribesmen always made an
especial mark of the officers, distinguishing them chiefly, I think, by
the fact that they do not carry rifles. The following story may show how
evident this was:--

When the Buffs were marching down to Panjkora, they passed the Royal
West Kent coming up to relieve them at Inayat Kila. A private in the
up-going regiment asked a friend in the Buffs what it was like at the
front. "Oh," replied the latter, "you'll be all right so long as you
don't go near no officers, nor no white stones." Whether the advice
was taken is not recorded, but it was certainly sound, for three days
later--on 30th September--in those companies of the Royal West Kent
regiment that were engaged in the village of Agrah, eight out of eleven
officers were hit or grazed by bullets.

The fatigues experienced by troops in mountain warfare are so great,
that every effort has to be made to lighten the soldier's load. At the
same time the more ammunition he carries on his person the better. Mules
laden with cartridge-boxes are very likely to be shot, and fall into
the hands of the enemy. In this manner over 6000 rounds were lost on the
16th of September by the two companies of Sikhs whose retirement I have
described.

The thick leather belts, pouches, and valise equipment of British
infantry are unnecessarily heavy. I have heard many officers suggest
having them made of web. The argument against this is that the web
wears out. That objection could be met by having a large supply of these
equipments at the base and issuing fresh ones as soon as the old were
unfit for use. It is cheaper to wear out belts than soldiers.

Great efforts should be made to give the soldier a piece of chocolate, a
small sausage, or something portable and nutritious to carry with him
to the field. In a war of long marches, of uncertain fortunes, of
retirements often delayed and always pressed, there have been many
occasions when regiments and companies have unexpectedly had to stop out
all night without food. It is well to remember that the stomach governs
the world.

The principle of concentrating artillery has long been admitted in
Europe. Sir Bindon Blood is the first general who has applied it to
mountain warfare in India. It had formerly been the custom to use the
guns by twos and threes. As we have seen, at the action of Landakai, the
Malakand Field Force had eighteen guns in action, of which twelve were
in one line. The fire of this artillery drove the enemy, who were in
great strength and an excellent position, from the ground. The infantry
attack was accomplished with hardly any loss, and a success was obtained
at a cost of a dozen lives which would have been cheap at a hundred.

After this, it may seem strange if I say that the artillery fire in the
Mamund Valley did very little execution. It is nevertheless a fact. The
Mamunds are a puny tribe, but they build their houses in the rocks;
and against sharpshooters in broken ground, guns can do little. Through
field-glasses it was possible to see the enemy dodging behind their
rocks, whenever the puffs of smoke from the guns told them that a shell
was on its way. Perhaps smokeless powder would have put a stop to this.
But in any case, the targets presented to the artillery were extremely
bad.

Where they really were of great service, was not so much in killing the
enemy, but in keeping them from occupying certain spurs and knolls. On
30th September, when the Royal West Kent and the 31st Punjaub Infantry
were retiring under considerable pressure, the British Mountain Battery
moved to within 700 yards of the enemy, and opened a rapid fire of
shrapnel on the high ground which commanded the line of retreat, killing
such of the tribesmen as were there, and absolutely forbidding the hill
to their companions.

In all rearguard actions among the mountains the employment of artillery
is imperative. Even two guns may materially assist the extrication of
the infantry from the peaks and crags of the hillside, and prevent by
timely shells the tribesmen from seizing each point as soon as it is
evacuated. But there is no reason why the artillery should be stinted,
and at least two batteries, if available, should accompany a brigade to
the attack.

Signalling by heliograph was throughout the operations of the greatest
value. I had always realised the advantages of a semi-permanent line
of signal stations along the communications to the telegraph, but I had
doubted the practicability of using such complicated arrangements in
action. In this torrid country, where the sun is always shining,
the heliograph is always useful. As soon as any hill was taken,
communication was established with the brigadier, and no difficulty
seemed to be met with, even while the attack was in progress, in sending
messages quickly and clearly. In a country intersected by frequent
ravines, over which a horse can move but slowly and painfully, it is the
surest, the quickest, and indeed the only means of intercommunication.
I am delighted to testify to these things, because I had formerly been a
scoffer.

I have touched on infantry and artillery, and, though a previous chapter
has been almost wholly devoted to the cavalry, I cannot resist the
desire to get back to the horses and the lances again. The question of
sword or lance as the cavalryman's weapon has long been argued, and
it may be of interest to consider what are the views of those whose
experience is the most recent. Though I have had no opportunity of
witnessing the use of the lance, I have heard the opinions of many
officers both of the Guides and the 11th Bengal Lancers. All admit or
assert that the lance is in this warfare the better weapon. It kills
with more certainty and convenience, and there is less danger of the
horseman being cut down. As to length, the general opinion seems to be
in favour of a shorter spear. This, with a counter poise at the butt,
gives as good a reach and is much more useful for close quarters. Major
Beatson, one of the most distinguished cavalry officers on the frontier,
is a strong advocate of this. Either the pennon should be knotted, or a
boss of some sort affixed about eighteen inches below the point. Unless
this be done there is a danger of the lance penetrating too far, when
it either gets broken or allows the enemy to wriggle up and strike the
lancer. This last actually happened on several occasions.

Now, in considering the question to what extent a squadron should be
armed with lances, the system adopted by the Guides may be of interest.
In this warfare it is very often necessary for the cavalryman to
dismount and use his carbine. The lance then gets in the way and has to
be tied to the saddle. This takes time, and there is usually not much
time to spare in cavalry skirmishing. The Guides compromise matters
by giving one man in every four a lance. This man, when the others
dismount, stays in the saddle and holds their horses. They also give the
outer sections of each squadron lances, and these, too, remain mounted,
as the drill-book enjoins. But I become too technical.

I pass for a moment to combined tactics. In frontier warfare Providence
is on the side of the good band-o-bust [arrangements]. There are no
scenic effects or great opportunities, and the Brigadier who leaves
the mountains with as good a reputation as he entered them has proved
himself an able, sensible man. The general who avoids all "dash," who
never starts in the morning looking for a fight and without any definite
intention, who does not attempt heroic achievements, and who keeps his
eye on his watch, will have few casualties and little glory. For the
enemy do not become formidable until a mistake has been made. The public
who do not believe in military operations without bloodshed may be
unattentive. His subordinate officers may complain that they have had no
fighting. But in the consciousness of duty skillfully performed and of
human life preserved he will find a high reward.

A general review of the frontier war will, I think, show the great
disadvantages to which regular troops are exposed in fighting an active
enterprising enemy that can move faster and shoot better, who knows the
country and who knows the ranges. The terrible losses inflicted on the
tribesmen in the Swat Valley show how easily disciplined troops can
brush away the bravest savages in the open. But on the hillside all is
changed, and the observer will be struck by the weakness rather than the
strength of modern weapons. Daring riflemen, individually superior to
the soldiers, and able to support the greatest fatigues, can always
inflict loss, although they cannot bar their path.

The military problem with which the Spaniards are confronted in Cuba
is in many points similar to that presented in the Afghan valleys; a
roadless, broken and undeveloped country; an absence of any strategic
points; a well-armed enemy with great mobility and modern rifles, who
adopts guerilla tactics. The results in either case are, that the troops
can march anywhere, and do anything, except catch the enemy; and that
all their movements must be attended with loss.

If the question of subduing the tribes be regarded from a purely
military standpoint, if time were no object, and there was no danger of
a lengthy operation being interrupted by a change of policy at home,
it would appear that the efforts of commanders should be, to induce the
tribesmen to assume the offensive. On this point I must limit my remarks
to the flat-bottomed valleys of Swat and Bajaur. To coerce a tribe like
the Mamunds, a mixed brigade might camp at the entrance to the valley,
and as at Inayat Kila, entrench itself very strongly. The squadron
of cavalry could patrol the valley daily in complete security, as the
tribesmen would not dare to leave the hills. All sowing of crops and
agricultural work would be stopped. The natives would retaliate by
firing into the camp at night. This would cause loss; but if every one
were to dig a good hole to sleep in, and if the officers were made to
have dinner before sundown, and forbidden to walk about except on duty
after dark, there is no reason why the loss should be severe. At length
the tribesmen, infuriated by the occupation of their valley, and perhaps
rendered desperate by the approach of famine and winter, would make a
tremendous attempt to storm the camp. With a strong entrenchment, a wire
trip to break a rush, and modern rifles, they would be driven off with
great slaughter, and once severely punished would probably beg for
terms. If not, the process would be continued until they did so.

Such a military policy would cost about the same in money as the
vigorous methods I have described, as though smaller numbers of troops
might be employed, they would have to remain mobilised and in the field
for a longer period. But the loss in personnel would be much less.
As good an example of the success of this method as can be found, is
provided by Sir Bindon Blood's tactics at Nawagai, when, being too weak
to attack the enemy himself, he encouraged them to attack him, and then
beat them off with great loss.

From the point which we have now reached, it is possible, and perhaps
not undesirable, to take a rapid yet sweeping glance of the larger
military problems of the day. We have for some years adopted the "short
service" system. It is a continental system. It has many disadvantages.
Troops raised under it suffer from youth, want of training and lack of
regimental associations. But on the Continent it has this one, paramount
recommendation: it provides enormous numbers. The active army is merely
a machine for manufacturing soldiers quickly, and passing them into the
reserves, to be stored until they are wanted. European nations deal with
soldiers only in masses. Great armies of men, not necessarily of a high
standard of courage and training, but armed with deadly weapons, are
directed against one another, under varying strategical conditions.
Before they can rebound, thousands are slaughtered and a great battle
has been won or lost. The average courage of the two nations may perhaps
have been decided. The essence of the continental system is its gigantic
scale.

We have adopted this system in all respects but one, and that the vital
one. We have got the poor quality, without the great quantity. We
have, by the short service system, increased our numbers a little, and
decreased our standard a good deal. The reason that this system, which
is so well adapted to continental requirements, confers no advantages
upon us is obvious. Our army is recruited by a voluntary system. Short
service and conscription are inseparable. For this reason, several stern
soldiers advocate conscription. But many words will have to be spoken,
many votes voted, and perhaps many blows struck before the British
people would submit to such an abridgment of their liberties, or such a
drag upon their commerce. It will be time to make such sacrifices when
the English Channel runs dry.

Without conscription we cannot have great numbers. It should therefore
be our endeavour to have those we possess of the best quality; and our
situation and needs enforce this view. Our soldiers are not required
to operate in great masses, but very often to fight hand to hand. Their
campaigns are not fought in temperate climates and civilised countries.
They are sent beyond the seas to Africa or the Indian frontier, and
there, under a hot sun and in a pestilential land, they are engaged in
individual combat with athletic savages. They are not old enough for the
work.

Young as they are, their superior weapons and the prestige of the
dominant race enable them to maintain their superiority over the
native troops. But in the present war several incidents have occurred,
unimportant, insignificant, it is true, but which, in the interests of
Imperial expediency, are better forgotten. The native regiments are
ten years older than the British regiments. Many of their men have seen
service and have been under fire. Some of them have several medals. All,
of course, are habituated to the natural conditions. It is evident how
many advantages they enjoy. It is also apparent how very serious the
consequences would be if they imagined they possessed any superiority.
That such an assumption should even be possible is a menace to our very
existence in India. Intrinsic merit is the only title of a dominant race
to its possessions. If we fail in this it is not because our spirit
is old and grown weak, but because our soldiers are young, and not yet
grown strong.

Boys of twenty-one and twenty-two are expected to compete on equal terms
with Sikhs and Gurkhas of thirty, fully developed and in the prime of
life. It is an unfair test. That they should have held their own is a
splendid tribute to the vigour of our race. The experiment is dangerous,
and it is also expensive. We continue to make it because the idea is
still cherished that British armies will one day again play a part
in continental war. When the people of the United Kingdom are foolish
enough to allow their little army to be ground to fragments between
continental myriads, they will deserve all the misfortunes that will
inevitably come upon them.

I am aware that these arguments are neither original nor new. I have
merely arranged them. I am also aware that there are able, brilliant men
who have spent their lives in the service of the State, who do not take
the views I have quoted. The question has been regarded from an Indian
point of view. There is probably no colonel in India, who commands a
British regiment, who would not like to see his men five years older. It
may be that the Indian opinion on the subject is based only on partial
information, and warped by local circumstances. Still I have thought it
right to submit it to the consideration of the public, at a time when
the army has been filling such a prominent position, not only in the
Jubilee procession and the frontier war, but also in the estimates
presented to the House of Commons.

Passing from the concrete to the abstract, it may not be unfitting that
these pages, which have recorded so many valiant deeds, should contain
some brief inquiry into the nature of those motives which induce men
to expose themselves to great hazards, and to remain in situations of
danger. The circumstances of war contain every element that can shake
the nerves. The whizzing of the projectiles; the shouts and yells of a
numerous and savage enemy; the piteous aspect of the wounded, covered
with blood and sometimes crying out in pain; the spurts of dust which on
all sides show where Fate is stepping--these are the sights and sounds
which assail soldiers, whose development and education enable them to
fully appreciate their significance. And yet the courage of the soldier
is the commonest of virtues. Thousands of men, drawn at random from the
population, are found to control the instinct of self-preservation. Nor
is this courage peculiar to any particular nation. Courage is not only
common, but cosmopolitan. But such are the apparent contradictions of
life, that this virtue, which so many seem to possess, all hold the
highest. There is probably no man, however miserable, who would not
writhe at being exposed a coward. Why should the common be precious?
What is the explanation?

It appears to be this. The courage of the soldier is not really contempt
for physical evils and indifference to danger. It is a more or less
successful attempt to simulate these habits of mind. Most men aspire to
be good actors in the play. There are a few who are so perfect that they
do not seem to be actors at all. This is the ideal after which the rest
are striving. It is one very rarely attained.

Three principal influences combine to assist men in their attempts:
preparation, vanity and sentiment. The first includes all the force
of discipline and training. The soldier has for years contemplated the
possibility of being under fire. He has wondered vaguely what kind of
an experience it would be. He has seen many who have gone through it and
returned safely. His curiosity is excited. Presently comes the occasion.
By road and railway he approaches daily nearer to the scene. His
mind becomes familiar with the prospect. His comrades are in the same
situation. Habit, behind which force of circumstances is concealed,
makes him conform. At length the hour arrives. He observes the darting
puffs of smoke in the distance. He listens to the sounds that are in the
air. Perhaps he hears something strike with a thud and sees a soldier
near him collapse like a shot pheasant. He realises that it may be his
turn next. Fear grips him by the throat.

Then vanity, the vice which promotes so many virtues, asserts itself.
He looks at his comrades and they at him. So far he has shown no sign of
weakness. He thinks, they are thinking him brave. The dearly longed-for
reputation glitters before his eyes. He executes the orders he receives.

But something else is needed to made a hero. Some other influence must
help him through the harder trials and more severe ordeals which may
befall him. It is sentiment which makes the difference in the end. Those
who doubt should stroll to the camp fire one night and listen to the
soldiers' songs. Every one clings to something that he thinks is high
and noble, or that raises him above the rest of the world in the hour of
need. Perhaps he remembers that he is sprung from an ancient stock,
and of a race that has always known how to die; or more probably it
is something smaller and more intimate; the regiment, whatever it is
called--"The Gordons," "The Buffs," "The Queen's,"--and so nursing the
name--only the unofficial name of an infantry battalion after all--he
accomplishes great things and maintains the honour and the Empire of the
British people.

It may be worth while, in the matter of names, to observe the advantages
to a regiment of a monosyllabic appellation. Every one will remember
Lieut.-Colonel Mathias' speech to the Gordons. Imagine for a moment that
speech addressed to some regiment saddled with a fantastic title on the
territorial system, as, for instance, Mr. Kipling's famous regiment,
"The Princess Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen-Anspach's Merthyr Tydvilshire Own
Royal Loyal Light Infantry." With the old numbers all started on equal
terms.

This has been perhaps a cold-blooded chapter. We have considered men
as targets; tribesmen, fighting for their homes and hills, have been
regarded only as the objective of an attack; killed and wounded human
beings, merely as the waste of war. We have even attempted to analyse
the high and noble virtue of courage, in the hopes of learning how it
may be manufactured.

The philosopher may observe with pity, and the philanthropist deplore
with pain, that the attention of so many minds should be directed to the
scientific destruction of the human species; but practical people in a
business-like age will remember that they live in a world of men--not
angels--and regulate their conduct accordingly.





CHAPTER XVIII. AND LAST.: THE RIDDLE OF THE FRONTIER


   "Myself when young did eagerly frequent
     Doctor and saint, and heard great argument
    About it and about, but evermore
     Came out by the same door wherein I went."

                               OMAR KHAYYAM.



These pages, which have chronicled a variety of small incidents, have
hitherto concerned themselves little with the great matters out of
which those incidents have arisen. As an opening chapter should lead
the reader to expect the considerations that the book contains, so the
conclusion should express the opinion he might form from the perusal.
When, at an earlier period, I refrained from discussing the question of
frontier policy, I declared that its consideration was only postponed
until a more propitious moment. That moment now presents itself. There
will not be wanting those who will remind me, that in this matter my
opinion is not supported by age or experience. To such I shall reply,
that if what is written is false or foolish, neither age nor experience
should fortify it; and if it is true, it needs no such support.
The propositions of Euclid would be no less indisputable were they
propounded by an infant or an idiot.

The inquirer sees the vast question unfold itself with feelings like
those with which the fisherman in the old story watched the genius he
had unwittingly released, rise from the bottle in clouds of smoke, which
overspread the whole sky. Every moment the subject appears not only
wider but deeper. When I reflect on the great number of diverse
and often conflicting facts which may be assembled under every
head--military, economic, political or moral--and consider the
accumulations of specialised and technical knowledge necessary for their
proper appreciation, I am convinced that to compass the whole is beyond
the mind and memory of man. Of such a question it is difficult to take
broad views, and dangerous to generalise. Still less is it possible, as
many people appear to imagine, to settle it with a phrase or an epigram.
A point is reached where all relation between detail and proportion
is lost. It is a picture of such great size that to see it all, it
is necessary to stand so far off that neither colours nor figures are
distinguishable. By constantly changing the point of view, some true
perspective is possible, and even then the conception must be twisted
and distorted, by the imperfections of the mental mirror.

Sensible of the magnitude of the task, and conscious of my own weakness,
I propose to examine in a spirit of cautious inquiry and of tolerance
the present "Forward Policy," and thence to approach the main question,
to the answer of which that policy is only a guess.

I must revert to a period when the British power, having conquered the
plains of India and subdued its sovereigns, paused at the foot of
the Himalayas and turned its tireless energy to internal progress and
development. The "line of the mountains" formed a frontier as plain and
intelligible as that which defines the limits of the sea. To the south
lay the British Empire in India; to the north were warlike tribes,
barbarous, unapproachable, irreclaimable; and far beyond these, lay the
other great Power of Asia.

It was long the wisdom of Anglo-Indian statesmen to preserve a situation
which contained so many elements of finality, and so many guarantees of
peace. When the northern savages, impelled by fanaticism or allured by
plunder, descended from the mountains and invaded the plains, they were
met by equal courage and superior discipline, and driven in disorder to
their confines. But this was found to be an inadequate deterrent, and
the purely defensive principle had to be modified in favor of that
system of punitive expeditions which has been derided as the policy of
"Butcher and Bolt."

Gradually, as the circumstances altered, the methods of dealing with
them changed. The punitive expeditions had awakened an intense hostility
among the tribesmen. The intrigues of Russia had for some time been
watched with alarm by the Indian Government. As long as the border could
remain a "No-man's land"--as it were a "great gulf fixed"--all was well;
but if any power was to be supreme, that power must neither be Russia
nor Afghanistan. ["We shall consider it from the first incumbent upon
the Government of India to prevent, at any cost, the establishment
within this outlying country of the political preponderance of any other
power."--Letter from Government of India to the Secretary of State,
No.49, 28th February, 1879.] The predominance of Russian influence in
these territories would give them the power to invade India at their
discretion, with what chances of success need not be here discussed.
The predominance of Afghan influence would make the Amir master of
the situation, and enable him to blackmail the Indian Government
indefinitely. A change of policy, a departure from the old frontier
line, presented itself with increasing force to responsible men. To-day
we see the evils that have resulted from that change. The dangers that
inspired it have been modified.

For some years the opinion in favour of an advance grew steadily among
those in power in India. In 1876 a decisive step was taken. Roused by
the efforts of the Amir to obtain the suzerainty of the Pathan tribes,
Lord Lytton's Government stretched a hand through Cashmere towards
Chitral, and the Mehtar of that State became the vassal, nominally of
the Maharaja of Cashmere, but practically of the Imperial Government.
The avowed object was to ultimately secure the effectual command of the
passes of the Hindu Kush. [Despatch No.17, 11th June, 1877.] The British
Ministry, the famous ministry of Lord Beaconsfield, approved the action
and endorsed the policy. Again, in 1879, the Vice-regal Government, in
an official despatch, declared their intention of acquiring, "through
the ruler of Cashmere, the power of making such political and military
arrangements as will effectually command the passes of the Hindu Kush."
[Despatch No.49, 28th February, 1879.] "If," so runs the despatch, "we
*extend and by degrees consolidate our influence* [The italics are mine]
over this country, and if we resolve that no foreign interference can be
permitted on this side of the mountains or within the drainage system of
the Indus, we shall have laid down a natural line of frontier, which
is distinct, intelligible and likely to be respected." [Despatch No.49,
28th February, 1879.]

No declaration of policy or intention could have been more explicit.
The words to "extend and consolidate our influence" can, when applied to
barbarous peoples, have no other meaning than ultimate annexation. Thus
the scheme of an advance from the plains of India into the mountain
region, which had long been maturing in men's minds and which was shaped
and outlined by many small emergencies and expedients, was clearly
proclaimed. The forward movement had begun. A fresh and powerful impulse
was imparted after the termination of Lord Ripon's viceroyalty. The open
aggression which characterised the Russian frontier policy of '84 and
'85 had been met by a supine apathy and indifference to the interests
of the State, which deserved, and which, had the issues been less
important, might have received actual punishment. It was natural that
his immediate successors should strive to dissociate themselves from the
follies and the blunders of those years. The spirit of reaction led
to the final abandonment of the venerable policy of non-intervention.
Instead of the "line of the mountains," it was now maintained that
the passes through them must be held. This is the so-called "Forward
Policy." It is a policy which aims at obtaining the frontier--Gilgit,
Chitral, Jelalabad, Kandahar.

In pursuance of that policy we have been led to build many frontier
forts, to construct roads, to annex territories, and to enter upon more
intimate relations with the border tribes. The most marked incident in
that policy has been the retention of Chitral. This act was regarded by
the tribesmen as a menace to their independence, and by the priesthood
as the prelude to a general annexation. Nor were they wrong, for such is
the avowed aim of the "Forward Policy." The result of the retention
of Chitral has been, as I have already described, that the priesthood,
knowing that their authority would be weakened by civilisation, have
used their religious influence on the people to foment a general rising.

It is useless to discuss the Chitral question independently. If the
"Forward Policy" be justified, then the annexation of Chitral, its
logical outcome, is also justified. The bye and the main plots stand or
fall together.

So far then we have advanced and have been resisted. The "Forward
Policy" has brought an increase of territory, a nearer approach to what
is presumably a better frontier line and--war. All this was to have been
expected. It may be said of the present system that it precludes the
possibility of peace. Isolated posts have been formed in the midst of
races notoriously passionate, reckless and warlike. They are challenges.
When they are assailed by the tribesmen, relieving and punitive
expeditions become necessary. All this is the outcome of a recognised
policy, and was doubtless foreseen by those who initiated it. What
may be called strange is that the forts should be badly
constructed--cramped, as the Malakand positions; commanded, like
Chakdara; without flank defences, as at Saraghari; without proper
garrisons, as in the Khyber. This is a side issue and accidental. The
rest of the situation has been deliberately created.

The possibility of a great combination among the border tribes was
indeed not contemplated. Separated by distance, and divided by faction,
it was anticipated they could be dealt with in detail. On this point we
have been undeceived.

That period of war and disturbance which was the inevitable first
consequence of the "Forward Policy" must in any case have been disturbed
and expensive. Regarded from an economic standpoint, the trade of the
frontier valleys will never pay a shilling in the pound on the military
expenditure necessary to preserve order. Morally, it is unfortunate for
the tribesmen that our spheres of influence clash with their spheres of
existence. Even on the military question, a purely technical question,
as to whether an advanced frontier line is desirable or not, opinion is
divided. Lord Roberts says one thing; Mr. Morley another.

There is no lack of arguments against the "Forward Policy." There are
many who opposed its initiation. There are many who oppose it now; who
think that nothing should have lured the Government of India beyond
their natural frontier line, and who maintain that it would have been
both practical and philosophic had they said: "Over all the plains
of India will we cast our rule. There we will place our governors and
magistrates; our words shall be respected and our laws obeyed. But that
region, where the land rises like the waves of a sea, shall serve us as
a channel of stormy waters to divide us from our foes and rivals."

But it is futile to engage in the controversies of the past. There are
sufficient in the present, and it is with the present we are concerned.

We have crossed the Rubicon. In the opinion of all those who know most
about the case, the forward movement is now beyond recall. Indeed, when
the intense hostility of the Border tribes, the uncertain attitude of
the Amir, the possibilities of further Russian aggression and the state
of feeling in India are considered, it is difficult to dispute this
judgment. Successive Indian Administrations have urged, successive
English Cabinets have admitted, the necessity of finding a definite and
a defensible frontier. The old line has been left, and between that
line and an advanced line continuous with Afghan territory, and south of
which all shall be reduced to law and order, there does not appear to be
any prospect of a peaceful and permanent settlement.

The responsibility of placing us in this position rests with those
who first forsook the old frontier policy of holding the "line of the
mountains." The historian of the future, with impartial pen and a more
complete knowledge, must pronounce on the wisdom of their act. In the
meantime it should be remembered of these great men, that they
left their public offices amid the applause and admiration of their
contemporaries, and, "in the full tide of successful experiment." Nor
can so much be said of all those who have assailed them. Those who
decided, have accepted the responsibility, and have defended their
action. But I am inclined to think that the rulers of India, ten years
ago or a hundred years ago, were as much the sport of circumstances as
their successors are to-day.

Let us return to the present and our own affairs. We have embarked on
stormy and perilous waters. The strong current of events forbids return.
The sooner the farther shore is reached, the sooner will the dangers and
discomforts of the voyage be over. All are anxious to make the land.
The suggestions as to the course are numerous. There are some, bad and
nervous sailors perhaps, who insist upon returning, although they are
told it is impossible, and who would sink the ship sooner than go on,
were they not outnumbered by their shipmates. While they are delaying,
the current bears us towards more disturbed waters and more rocky
landing places.

There are others who call out for "Full steam ahead," and would
accomplish the passage at once, whatever the risks. But alas! The ship
is run out of coal and can only spread its sails to the varying breezes,
take advantage of favorable tides, and must needs lie to when the waves
are high.

But the sensible passenger may, though he knows the difficulties of the
voyage and the dangers of the sea, fairly ask the man at the wheel to
keep a true and constant course. He may with reason and justice insist
that, whatever the delays which the storms or accidents may cause, the
head of the vessel shall be consistently pointed towards the distant
port, and that come what will she shall not be allowed to drift
aimlessly hither and thither on the chance of fetching up somewhere some
day.

The "Full steam ahead" method would be undoubtedly the most desirable.
This is the military view. Mobilise, it is urged, a nice field force,
and operate at leisure in the frontier valleys, until they are as safe
and civilised as Hyde Park. Nor need this course necessarily involve the
extermination of the inhabitants. Military rule is the rule best suited
to the character and comprehension of the tribesmen. They will soon
recognise the futility of resistance, and will gradually welcome the
increase of wealth and comfort that will follow a stable government.
Besides this, we shall obtain a definite frontier almost immediately.
Only one real objection has been advanced against this plan. But it is
a crushing one, and it constitutes the most serious argument against the
whole "Forward Policy." It is this: we have neither the troops nor the
money to carry it out.

The inevitable alternative is the present system, a system which the war
has interrupted, but to which we must return at its close; a system of
gradual advance, of political intrigue among the tribes, of subsidies
and small expeditions.

Though this policy is slow, painful and somewhat undignified, there
is no reason that it should not be sure and strong. But it must be
consistently pursued. Dynamite in the hands of a child is not more
dangerous than a strong policy weakly carried out. The reproach which
may be justly laid upon the rulers of India, whether at home or abroad,
is that while they recognise the facts, they shrink from the legitimate
conclusions.

They know they cannot turn back. They fully intend to go on. Yet they
fear to admit the situation, to frankly lay their case before the
country, and trust to the good sense and courage of an ancient
democracy. The result is, that they tie their hands by ridiculous and
unnecessary proclamations, such as that which preceded the Chitral
expedition of 1895. The political officers who watch the frontier tribes
are expected to obtain authority by force of personal character, yet
strictly according to regulations, and to combine individuality with
uniformity. And sometimes this timidity leads to such dismal acts of
folly as the desertion of the Khyber forts.

But in spite of all obstacles and errors there is a steady advance,
which may be accelerated, and made easier, by many small reforms. These
questions of detail approach so near the province of the specialist,
that I shall not attempt to enumerate or discuss them. It is suggested
among other things that wider powers should be given to the political
officers, in their ordinary duties of peace. Others advocate occasional
demonstrations of troops, to impress the tribesmen with the fact that
those they see are not the full strength of the Sirkar. Bolder minds
have hinted at transplanting young Pathans, and educating them in India
after the custom of the Romans. But this last appears to be suitable to
a classic rather than a Christian age.

From a general survey of the people and the country, it would seem that
silver makes a better weapon than steel. A system of subsidies must tend
to improve our relations with the tribes, enlist their interests on
the side of law and order, and by increasing their wealth, lessen their
barbarism. In the matter of the supply of arms the Government would find
it cheaper to enter the market as a purchaser, and have agents to outbid
the tribesmen, rather than to employ soldiers. As water finds its own
level, so the laws of economics will infallibly bring commodities to the
highest bidder. Doubtless there are many other lessons which the present
war will have taught. These may lighten a task which, though long and
heavy, is not beyond the powers or pluck of the British people.

We are at present in a transition stage, nor is the manner nor occasion
of the end in sight. Still this is no time to despair. I have often
noticed in these Afghan valleys, that they seem to be entirely
surrounded by the hills, and to have no exit. But as the column has
advanced, a gap gradually becomes visible and a pass appears. Sometimes
it is steep and difficult, sometimes it is held by the enemy and must be
forced, but I have never seen a valley that had not a way out. That way
we shall ultimately find, if we march with the firm but prudent step of
men who know the dangers; but, conscious of their skill and discipline,
do not doubt their ability to deal with them as they shall arise. In
such a spirit I would leave the subject, with one farewell glance.

Looking on the story of the great frontier war; at all that has been
told, and all that others may tell, there must be many who to-day will
only deplore the losses of brave soldiers and hard-earned money. But
those who from some future age shall, by steady light of history,
dispassionately review the whole situation, its causes, results and
occasion, may find other reflections, as serious perhaps, but less
mournful. The year 1897, in the annals of the British people, was
marked by a declaration to the whole world of their faith in the higher
destinies of their race. If a strong man, when the wine sparkles at the
feast and the lights are bright, boasts of his prowess, it is well
he should have an opportunity of showing in the cold and grey of the
morning that he is no idle braggart. And unborn arbiters, with a wider
knowledge, and more developed brains, may trace in recent events the
influence of that mysterious Power which, directing the progress of our
species, and regulating the rise and fall of Empires, has afforded that
opportunity to a people, of whom at least it may be said, that they have
added to the happiness, the learning and the liberties of mankind.




                             APPENDIX.

                EXTRACTS FROM OFFICIAL DESPATCHES.


                   THE ATTACK ON THE MALAKAND.
                 26th July -- 1st August, 1897.

 FROM THE DESPATCH OF BRIGADIER-GENERAL W.H. MEIKLEJOHN, C.B., C.M.G.

  FORWARDED TO THE ADJUTANT-GENERAL IN INDIA BY SIR BINDON BLOOD.


43. All have done well, but I should like to bring before His Excellency
for favorable consideration the following names of officers and men:--


                     24th Punjaub Infantry.

Lieut.-Colonel J. Lamb, who, on the first alarm being sounded on the
night of the 26th July, had taken prompt action in reinforcing the
outpost line held by his regiment, and later was of great assistance
in directing the defence of the central enclosure, till he was severely
wounded.

Captain H.F. Holland showed great courage in assisting to drive a number
of the enemy out of the central enclosure, and was severely wounded in
doing so.

I would especially wish to mention Lieutenant S.H. Climo, who commanded
the 24th Punjaub Infantry after Lieut.-Colonel Lamb and Captain Holland
had been wounded. This officer has shown soldierly qualities and ability
of the highest order. He has commanded the regiment with dash and
enterprise, and shown a spirit and example which has been followed by
all ranks. I trust His Excellency will be pleased to favourably notice
Lieutenant Climo, who has proved himself an officer who will do well in
any position, and is well worthy of promotion.

Lieutenant A.K. Rawlins has behaved well all through. I would recommend
him to His Excellency for the plucky way in which he went to the fort on
the 26th July to bring reinforcements, and again for the dash he showed
in leading his men on the 27th and 28th, of which Lieutenant Climo
speaks most highly.

Lieutenant E.W. Costello, 22nd Punjaub Infantry, temporarily attached
to the 24th Punjaub Infantry, has behaved exceedingly well, and is the
subject of a separate recommendation.


                     31st Punjaub Infantry.

Major M.I. Gibbs, who commanded the regiment in the absence of Major
O'Bryen, with skill and in every way to my satisfaction.

Lieutenant H.B. Ford, Acting-Adjutant, 31st Punjaub Infantry, rendered
valuable assistance in helping to bring in a wounded Sepoy during the
withdrawal from north camp. He also behaved with courage in resisting
an attack of the enemy on the night of the 28th, when he was severely
wounded.

Surgeon-Lieutenant J.H. Hugo, attached to 31st Punjaub Infantry,
rendered valuable service on the night of the 28th in saving Lieutenant
H.B. Ford from bleeding to death. Lieutenant Ford was wounded and a
branch of an artery was cut. There were no means of securing the artery,
and Surgeon-Lieutenant Hugo for two hours stopped the bleeding by
compressing the artery with his fingers. Had he not had the strength to
do so, Lieutenant Ford must have died. Early in the morning, thinking
that the enemy had effected an entrance into camp, Surgeon-Lieutenant
Hugo picked up Lieutenant Ford with one arm, and, still holding the
artery with the fingers of the other hand, carried him to a place of
safety.


                     45th (Rattray's) Sikhs.

Colonel H.A. Sawyer was away on leave when hostilities broke out, but
he returned on the 29th and took over command of the regiment from
Lieut.-Colonel McRae, and from that time rendered me every assistance.

I would specially bring to the notice of His Excellency the
Commander-in-chief the name of Lieut.-Colonel H.N. McRae, who commanded
the regiment on the 26th, 27th and 28th. His prompt action in seizing
the gorge at the top of the Buddhist road on the night of the 26th, and
the gallant way in which he held it, undoubtedly saved the camp from
being rushed on that side. For this, and for the able way in which he
commanded the regiment during the first three days of the fighting, I
would commend him to His Excellency's favorable consideration.

Also Lieutenant R.M. Barff, Officiating-Adjutant of the regiment, who,
Lieut.-Colonel McRae reports, behaved with great courage and rendered
him valuable assistance.


                     The Guides.

I also wish to bring the name of Lieut.-Colonel R.B. Adams of the Guides
to His Excellency's notice. The prompt way in which the corps mobilised,
and their grand march, reflect great credit on him and the corps. Since
arrival at the Malakand on the 27th July and till the morning of the
1st August, Lieut.-Colonel Adams was in command of the lower camp, i.e.,
that occupied by central and left position, and in the execution of this
command, and the arrangements he made for improving the defenses, he
gave me every satisfaction. I have also to express my appreciation of
the way in which he conducted the cavalry reconnaissance on the 1st
August, on which occasion his horse was shot under him.

Great credit is due to Lieutenant P.C. Eliott-Lockhart, who was in
command of the Guides Infantry, for bringing up the regiment from Mardan
to Malakand in such good condition after their trying march.

Captain G.M. Baldwin, D.S.O., behaved with great courage and coolness
during the reconnaissance of the 1st August, and though severely wounded
by a sword cut on the head, he remained on the ground and continued to
lead his men.

Lieutenant H.L.S. Maclean also behaved with courage, and displayed an
excellent example on the night of the 28th July, when he was severely
wounded.


                    11th Bengal Lancers.

Major S. Beatson commanded the squadron, 11th Bengal Lancers, which
arrived at Malakand on the 29th, and led them with great skill and dash
on the occasion of the reconnaissance on the 1st August.


                    No.8 Bengal Mountain Battery.

Lieutenant F.A. Wynter was the only officer with No.8 Bengal Mountain
Battery from the 26th till the 30th July, and he commanded it during
that time, when all the severest of the fighting was going on, with
great ability, and has proved himself a good soldier. I should like
especially to mention him for His Excellency's consideration. The
battery did excellent work all through.


                    No.5 Company Queen's Own Madras Sappers and Miners.

Lieutenant A.R. Winsloe, R.E., commanded the company from the 27th
July till the 1st August to my entire satisfaction. His services in
strengthening the defences were invaluable.

Lieutenant F.W. Watling, R.E., was in command of the company in the
absence of Captain Johnson on the 26th, and commanded it well until he
was wounded in gallantly trying to resist a charge of the enemy. After
Lieutenant Watling was wounded the command of the company for the
remainder of the night of the 26th, and till Lieutenant Winsloe returned
on the 27th, devolved on Lieutenant E.N. Manley, R.E. He performed his
duties with great credit, and afterwards was of great assistance, by his
zeal and his exertions, to Lieutenant Winsloe.


                    Medical Staff.

Brigade-Surgeon-Lieut.-Colonel F.A. Smyth was most zealous, and
performed his duties to my satisfaction. He volunteered to perform
the duties of Provost Marshal, and did so for a short time during the
illness of Lieutenant H.E. Cotterill.

The arrangements made by Surgeon-Major S. Hassand, Senior Medical
Officer, 38th Native Field Hospital, and the indefatigable attention and
care with which he devoted himself to the wounded, deserve great praise.
The list of casualties is large, and Surgeon-Major Hassand has been
untiring in his exertions for their relief. I hope His Excellency will
think fit to consider his services favourably.

Surgeon-Captain T.A.O. Langston, 38th Native Field Hospital, rendered
valuable assistance in attending to the wounded under a heavy fire on
the night of the 26th and each following night, and behaved with
courage and devotion in carrying out his duties under very exceptional
circumstances. Surgeon-Lieutenant W. Carr has worked night and day in
the hospitals, in trying to alleviate the sufferings of the wounded, and
has most ably and efficiently aided Surgeon-Major Hassand.


                    Brigade Staff.

Major L. Herbert, my Deputy Assistant Adjutant and
Quartermaster-General, was of the greatest assistance to me by the zeal
and energy with which he performed his duties from the moment the news
of the approach of the enemy was received till he was severely wounded
while standing next to me in the enclosure of the Sappers and Miners'
camp on the night of the 26th. Since being wounded, he has carried on
all his office duties on his bed. I would wish to commend his gallant
conduct for the favorable consideration of the Commander-in-Chief.

Although Major H.A. Deane is in no way under my authority, I feel I am
under a great obligation to him for the valuable assistance he rendered
me with his advice and for volunteering to put himself at my disposal
with the object of carrying on the active duties of Deputy Assistant
Adjutant-General, when Major Herbert was wounded. He was indefatigable
in assisting me in every way he could, and I am anxious to put on record
my grateful appreciation of the services he rendered me.

44. The above list of names may appear to be somewhat long; but I would
point out that the fighting was almost constant for a week, and was of
such a close nature as to demand incessant exertion from every officer
in the force, and to elicit constant acts of courage and gallant example
which cannot be overlooked.

45. I would not like to close this despatch without paying a tribute
to the memory of a fine soldier, and charming companion whose death the
whole force deplores.

Major W.W. Taylor had behaved with the greatest gallantry and dash in
meeting the enemy's first charge with Lieut.-Colonel McRae, and, had
he lived, he would undoubtedly distinguished himself in his career. His
loss in a heavy one to his regiment, and to the Service, and there is no
one in the brigade who does not mourn him as a friend.

I have also to deplore the death of Honorary-Lieutenant L. Manley, who
as my Commissariat Officer had rendered me great assistance, and who
died fighting manfully. His loss is a very serious one to the brigade.

46. I attach separately, for favorable consideration, a list of native
officers, non-commissioned officers and men, who have done especially
good service; some of whom I have therein recommended for the order of
merit.

I trust these recommendations will meet with the favorable consideration
of His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief.






                      THE RELIEF OF CHAKDARA
                         2ND AUGUST, 1897

                FROM THE DESPATCH OF MAJOR-GENERAL
                     SIR BINDON BLOOD, K.C.B.


19. I have the honour to invite the special attention of His Excellency
the Commander-in-Chief in India to the good services of the following
officers during the operations described above, namely:--

Brigadier-General W.H. Meiklejohn, C.B., C.M.G., carried out his
duties in command of the force which relieved Chakdara Fort with great
gallantry and judgment.

Colonel A.J.F. Reid, Officiating Colonel on the Staff, Malakand Brigade,
afforded me valuable assistance by carrying out the rearrangement of the
defensive posts at the Malakand on the 1st August, after the Relieving
Force had been drawn from them, and in making the preparations for
Colonel T.H. Goldney's attack on the 2nd.

Colonel T.H. Goldney, 35th Sikhs, disposed and led the troops on the
morning of the 2nd in the successful attack on the hill, since named
after him, in a most judicious and satisfactory manner.

Major E.A.P. Hobday, R.A., was most energetic and indefatigable in
assisting Colonel A.J.F. Reid and me in carrying out the multifarious
work which had to be done at the Malakand, and in the Swat Valley on the
1st, 2nd and 3rd.

Brigadier-General Meiklejohn reports favourably on the following
officers who were under his command during the operations above
detailed, viz:--

Captain G.F.H. Dillon, 40th Pathans, who acted as Staff Officer to the
Relieving Force, showed great readiness and resource, and his assistance
was of the utmost value.

Lieutenants C.R. Gaunt, 4th Dragoon Guards, Orderly Officer, and E.
Christian, Royal Scots Fusiliers, Signalling Officer, carried out their
duties most satisfactorily.

Lieut.-Colonel R.B. Adams, Queen's Own Corps of Guides, commanded the
cavalry (four squadrons) with the Relieving Force in the most gallant
and judicious manner.

The following officers commanding units and detachments of the Reliving
Force are stated by Brigidier-General Meiklejohn to have carried out
their duties in a thoroughly capable and satisfactory manner, viz.:--

Colonel H.A. Sawyer, 45th Sikhs.

Major Stuart Beatson, 11th Bengal Lancers.

Captain A.H.C. Birch, R.A. (8th Bengal Mountain Battery).

Lieutenant G. de H. Smith, 2nd Regiment, Central India Horse, attached
to Queen's Own Corps of Guides (cavalry).

Lieutenant A.R. Winsloe, R.E. (No.5 Company Queen's Own Sapper's and
Miners).

Lieutenant P.C. Eliott-Lockhart, Queen's Own Corps of Guides (infantry).

Surgeon-General H.F. Whitchurch, V.C., attended to the wounded under
fire throughout the fighting.

The following officers under Colonel T.H. Goldney's command led their
detachments under my own observation with gallantry and judgment,
viz.:--

Lieut.-Colonel L.J.E. Bradshaw, 35th Sikhs.

Captain L.C.H. Stainforth, 38th Dogras.

Jemader Nawab, who commanded two guns of No.8 Bengal Mountain Battery
in support of Colonel Goldney's attack, attracted my favorable notice by
his smartness, quickness and thorough knowledge of his work.

I would also wish to bring to His Excellency's notice the good work
done by Major H. Burney, Gordon Highlanders, Assistant Adjutant-General;
Major H. Burney, Gordon Highlanders, Assistant Adjutant-General;
Major H. Wharry, D.S.O., Chief Commissariat Officer, and Captain A.B.
Dunsterville, 1st Battalion East Surrey Regiment, my Aide-de-Camp; the
only officers of the Divisional Staff of my force who had arrived at the
Malakand on the 2nd August. These officers worked very hard and were of
great use to me.

20. Major H.A. Deane, C.S.I., Political Agent, Dir and Swat, was not
in any way under my orders during the operations above described, but
notwithstanding, I hope I may be permitted to express the obligations
under which I lie to him for valuable information and general assistance
which he gave me.



                  THE DEFENCE OF CHAKDARA.
                26TH JULY--2ND AUGUST, 1897.

            FROM THE DESPATCH OF MAJOR-GENERAL
                 SIR BINDON BLOOD, K.C.B.


15. During the fighting above described, the conduct of the whole of the
garrison, whether fighting men, departmental details, or followers,
is reported to have been most gallant. Not the least marked display
of courage and constancy was that made by the small detachment in the
signal tower, who were without water for the last eighteen hours of the
siege. The signallers, under No.2729, Lance-Naik Vir Singh, 45th Sikhs,
who set a brilliant example, behaved throughout in a most courageous
manner; one of them, No.2829, Sepoy Prem Singh, climbing several times
out of a window in the tower with a heliograph, and signaling outside to
the Malakand under a hot fire from sungars in every direction.

16. I would beg to recommend all the British and native officers
who took part in the defence I have described for the favorable
consideration of His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief as under, viz.:--

Captain H. Wright, 11th Bengal Lancers, who, with his detachment of
forty sabres of his regiment, made the gallant ride through the enemy
from the Malakand to Chakdara Fort, on the morning of the 27th July,
and commanded the garrison from that morning till its relief on the 2nd
August.

Captain D. Baker, 2nd Bombay Infantry, who rode to Chakdara Fort with
Captain Wright, and made himself most useful. Lieutenant H.B. Rattray,
45th Sikhs, who commanded the garrison from the commencement of the
attack on the 26th July till the arrival of Captain Wright the next day,
and is reported by that officer to have been the life and soul of the
defence. 2nd Lieutenant J.L. Wheatley, 45th Sikhs, had charge of the gun
and Maxim detachments, and it was largely owing to his care and judgment
that these weapons were so effective in the defence.

Lieutenant A.B. Minchin, 25th Punjaub Infantry, Assistant Political
Agent, was in the fort throughout the siege, and was most useful.

Ressaidar Tilok Singh, 11th Bengal Lancers, accompanied Captain Wright
in his ride of the 27th July, and is very favorably mentioned by that
officer.

Jemadar Sudama commanded the detachment of the 21st Bengal Lancers who
were at Chakdara Fort on the 26th July, and was present throughout the
siege, and is also very favorably reported on.

Subadar Jwala Singh, 45th Sikhs, was present throughout the siege, and
showed great intelligence and readiness of resource, as well as courage
and coolness, under fire.

Jemadar Ala Singh, 45th Sikhs, had command of the sections on the
parapet of the river fort, and showed conspicuous courage and coolness
under heavy fire.

Lieutenant Rattray reports that No.522 Hospital Assistant Piara Singh,
11th Bengal Lancers, rendered valuable assistance, not only in the
sortie on the 2nd, and at other times in bringing up ammunition, etc.,
to the men on the parapets under fire.

17. I shall further have the honor, in a separate communication,
to submit, for the favorable consideration of His Excellency the
Commander-in-Chief, the names of several non-commissioned officers and
men who distinguished themselves during the siege of Chakdara Fort, in
view of their being granted the order of merit, should His Excellency
think them deserving of that distinction.


     From Major-General Sir B. Blood, K.C.B., Commanding the Malakand
    Field Force, to the Adjutant-General in India,--No.5, "Despatches,
           Malakand Field Force,"--Dated 27th October, 1897.


I regret to find that in my report, "Despatches, Malakand Field Force,"
No.3, of the 20th August, 1897, I omitted to include the name of
Surgeon-Captain E.V. Hugo, Indian Medical Service, amongst those of the
officers recommended to the favorable consideration of His Excellency
the Commander-in-Chief for their services during the recent defence of
Chakdara Fort. I now have great pleasure in stating that Surgeon-General
Hugo served with distinction throughout the defence in question, and in
recommending him for favorable consideration accordingly.






               ACTION OF LANDAKAI AND EXPEDITION
                       INTO UPPER SWAT.
                        AUGUST, 1987.

             FROM THE DESPATCHES OF MAJOR-GENERAL
                  SIR BINDON BLOOD, K.C.B.


32. In concluding this part of my report, I would wish to express my
admiration of the fine soldierly qualities exhibited by all ranks of
the special force which I led into Upper Swat. They fought the action at
Landakai in a brilliant manner, working over high hills, under a burning
sun, with the greatest alacrity, and showing everywhere the greatest
keenness to close with the enemy. They carried out admirably the trying
duties necessitated by marching in hot weather with a transport train
of more than 2000 mules, and they endured with perfect cheerfulness the
discomforts of several nights' bivouac in heavy rain. The officers of
the Divisional Staff and of by personal staff who were with me,
[Major H.H. Burney, Assistant Adjutant-General (Gordon Highlanders);
Lieut.-Colonel A. Masters, Assistant Quartermaster-General (2nd
Regiment Central India Horse); Captain H.E. Stanton, Deputy Assistant
Quartermaster-General, Intelligence Branch (Royal Artillery); Colonel
W. Aitken, Colonel on the Staff, Royal Artillery; Captain H.D. Grier,
Adjutant, R.A.; Major E. Blunt, Senior Officer of Royal Engineers;
Captain E.W.M. Norie, Superintendent, Army Signalling (Middlesex
Regiment); Captain C.G.F. Edwards, Provost Marshal (5th Punjaub
Cavalry); Captain A.B. Dunsterville, A.D.C. (1st Battalion East Surrey
Regiment); Captain A.R. Dick, Orderly Officer. BRIGADE STAFF.--Major
E.A.P. Hobday, Deputy Assistant Adjutant-General (Royal Artillery);
Captain G.F.H. Dillon, Deputy Assistant Quartermaster-General (40th
Bengal Infantry); Captain C.H. Beville, Commissariat Transport
Department; Captain J.M. Camilleri, in charge of Transport (13th Bengal
Infantry); Surgeon-Lieut.-Colonel J.T.B. Bookey, I.M.S.; Lieutenant
C.R. Gaunt, Orderly officer, 4th Dragoon Guards. COMMANDING OFFICERS
OF DIVISIONAL TROOPS.--Lieut.-Colonel R.B. Adams, Queen's Own Corps of
Guides; Major C.A. Anderson, 10th Field Battery, Royal Artillery; Major
M.F. Fegan, No.7 Mountain Battery, Royal Artillery; Captain A.H.C.
Birch, No.8 Bengal Mountain Battery; Captain E.P. Johnson, No.5 Company
Queen's Own Sappers and Miners.] Brigadier-General W.H. Meiklejohn,
C.B., C.M.G., and his staff, and the several heads of departments and
commanding officers of Divisional Troops, all carried out their duties
in an entirely satisfactory manner.

Major H.A. Deane, Political Agent, and his assistant, Lieutenant
A.B. Minchin, gave valuable assistance in collecting intelligence and
supplies.

33. While the operations above described were in progress, a diversion
was made towards the southern border of the Buner country from Mardan by
the 1st Reserve Brigade, which, on its headquarters leaving Mardan, came
under my command as the 3rd Brigade, Malakand Field Force.

34. A force [1st Battalion Highland Light Infantry, under Lieut.-Colonel
R.D.B. Rutherford; 39th Garhwal Rifles, under Lieut.-Colonel B.C.
Greaves; No.3 Company Bombay Sappers and Miners, under Captain C.E.
Baddeley, R.E.; one squadron 10th Bengal Lancers, under Captain
W.L. Maxwell; two guns No.1 Mountain Battery, Royal Artillery, under
Lieutenant H.L.N. Beynon, R.A.] under Brigadier-General J. Wodehouse,
C.B., C.M.G., was concentrated on the 17th August at Rustum, eighteen
miles north-east of Mardan, and about four miles from the Buner border,
with the object of acting as a containing force, and so preventing the
sections of the Bunerwhals who had not already committed themselves
against us from joining in opposition to our advance into Upper Swat.

35. The presence of this force had the desired effect, and
Brigadier-General Wodehouse and his staff made good use of the time they
spent at Rustum in acquiring valuable information about several of the
passes in the neighborhood.

36. Brigadier-General Wodehouse states that throughout the operations of
his force, which involved considerable fatigue and exposure to heat
and rain, the spirit of his troops left nothing to be desired. He makes
special mention of the work of No.3 Company Bombay Sappers and Miners,
under Captain C.E. Baddeley, R.E. He also reports very favourably on the
assistance given him by Lieutenant C.P. Down, Assistant Commissioner,
and has expressed to me a high opinion of that officer's abilities and
acquirements, particularly of his proficiency in the local vernacular.




                   THE ACTION OF 16TH SEPTEMBER.

                 FROM SIR BINDON BLOOD'S DESPATCH
      CONTAINING THE SUMMARY OF BRIGADIER-GENERAL JEFFREY'S
                       REPORT OF THE ACTION


27. The behavior of the troops throughout this trying day was very good.
The steadiness and discipline shown by the 1st Battalion of the Buffs,
under Lieu.-Colonel Ommnanney, were admirable, while Brigadier-General
Jeffreys has specially commended the gallantry with which the Guides
Infantry, under Major Campbell, brought off Captain Ryder's detachment
of the 35th Sikhs, carrying the wounded on their backs under a heavy
fire. He has further strongly endorsed Major Campbell's favourable
mention of the courage and judgment shown by Captain G.B. Hodson, and
Lieutenant H.W. Codrington, of the Guides, who commanded the companies
of the battalion which were chiefly in contact with the enemy; the
gallantry of Surgeon-Captain J. Fisher, Indian Medical Service, who made
a most determined, though unsuccessful, attempt to take medical aid
to the wounded of Captain Ryder's detachment through a hot fire; of
Surgeon-Lieutenant E.L. Perry, Indian Medical Service; of Jemadar
Sikander Khan of the Guides, and of several non-commissioned officers
and Sepoys of the same corps, regarding whom I have had the honour to
make a separate communication.

28. Brigadier-General Jeffreys has also described in very favorable
terms the gallant and valuable work done on this day by Captain Cole and
his squadron of the 11th Bengal Lancers. He has commended the conduct
of Captain W.I. Ryder and Lieutenant O.G. Gunning, 35th Sikhs, who were
both wounded, and of Jemadar Narayan Singh, Havildar Ram Singh and
Sepoy Karram Singh [This man's case has formed the subject of a separate
communication.] of the same regiment. He has also brought to notice
a gallant act of Captain A.H.C. Birch, R.A., commanding No.8 Bengal
Mountain Battery, and his trumpeter, Jiwan, in rescuing a wounded Sepoy
of the 35th Sikhs, as well as the distinguished gallantry of Jemadars
Nawab and Ishar Singh and several non-commissioned officers and men of
the same battery, in regard to which I have made separate communications
to you.

29. Brigadier-General Jeffreys further refers in the strongest terms of
commendation to the gallant conduct of Lieutenants T.C. Watson [twice
wounded in attempting to clear the village] and J.M.C. Colvin, R.E., and
of the handful of men of the Buffs and No.4 Company Bengal Sappers and
Miners, who spent the night of the 16th-17th with him in the village of
Bilot. The conduct of these officers and men [of whom six were killed
and eighteen wounded on this occasion, out of a total of fifty-four] in
entering the village several times in the dark in face of a heavy fire
directed upon them at close quarters, seems deserving of the highest
recognition, and I have consequently made a special communication to
you on the subject. Brigadier-General Jeffreys has also commended the
gallant conduct of his Deputy Assistant Adjutant-General, [The remainder
of Brigadier-General Jeffrey's staff was with the main body when it got
separated from them.] Major E.O.F. Hamilton, 1st Battalion the Queen's
Royal West Surrey Regiment; and finally, he has praised the courage
and resolution of Lieutenant W.L.S. Churchill, 4th Hussars, the
correspondent of the Pioneer Newspaper with the force, who made himself
useful at a critical moment.





               OPERATIONS OF THE MALAKAND FIELD FORCE

                  FROM THE CONCLUDING DESPATCH OF
               MAJOR-GENERAL SIR BINDON BLOOD, K.C.B.


58. The commissariat arrangements under Major H. Wharry, D.S.O., were
most successful. The rations were always abundant, and of uniformly good
quality; and I may here observe that in five previous campaigns I have
never seen the supply of bread anything like so continuously good, as it
has been throughout the operations of the Malakand Field Force. No doubt
the excellence of the commissariat arrangements has had a great deal to
do with the good state of health of the troops, which I have remarked
upon.

59. The transport was most efficient throughout the operations under
reference, and its management, under the direction of Captain C.G.R.
Thackwell, Divisional Transport Officer, who was most ably and
energetically assisted by Veterinary-Captain H.T.W. Mann, Senior
Veterinary Officer, was most successful. In proof of this I will cite a
report just made to me by Brigadier-General Jeffreys, commanding the
2nd Brigade of my force, that this morning, on inspecting 1265 mules
attached his brigade, which have just returned from seven weeks in the
field, he found fourteen sore backs, and four animals otherwise unfit
for work, or a total of only eighteen disabled animals in all.

60. The medical service was carried out in a very satisfactory manner.
Some difficulties arose on the transfer of officers and material to the
Tirah Expeditionary Force on its formation, especially as large convoys
of sick and wounded were on the line of this force at the time, but
these difficulties were successfully overcome by Colonel A.J.F. Reid,
commanding the Malakand Brigade, who was in charge of the Line, and
matters were ultimately restored to smooth working on the arrival of
Surgeon-Colonel J.C.G. Carmichael, Indian Medical Service, who is now
Principal Medical Officer of the Force.

61. The telegraph arrangements were well carried out by Lieutenant W.
Robertson, R.E., under the direction of Mr. C.E. Pitman, C.I.E. The
postal service under Mr. H.C. Sheridan was also satisfactory.

62. The working of the several departments of the Headquarters' staff
was most satisfactory and successful. The heads of departments were:--

Major H.H. Burney, Gordon Highlanders, Assistant Adjutant-General.

Lieutenant-Colonel A. Masters, 2nd Regiment Central India Horse,
Assistant Quartermaster-General.

Captain H.E. Stanton, D.S.O., R.A., Deputy Assistant
Quartermaster-General (Intelligence).

Captain E.W.M. Norie, Middlesex Regiment, Superintendent, Army
Signalling.

Surgeon-Colonel J.C.G. Carmichael, Indian Medical Service, Principal
Medical Officer.

Lieutenant-Colonel W. Aitken, C.B., R.A., Commanding Royal Artillery.

Colonel J.E. Broadbent, R.E., Commanding Royal Engineers--relieved early
in October by Lieutenant-Colonel W. Peacocke, C.M.G., R.E.

Captain W.E. Banbury, 25th Madras Infantry, Field Treasure Chest
Officer.

Captain W.W. Cookson, R.A., Ordnance Officer.

Major H. Wharry, D.S.O., Staff Corps, Chief Commissariat Officer.

Veterinary-Captain H.T.W. Mann, [Wounded in action, 20th September,
1897.] Army Veterinary Department, Senior Veterinary Officer.

Captain C.L. Robertson, R.E., Survey officer.

Captain C.G.F. Edwards, 5th Punjaub Cavalry, Provost Marshal.

The Rev. L. Klogh, Chaplain.

Lieutenant W. Robertson, R.E., in charge of Telegraphs.

63. I am under great obligations to my personal staff--Captain A.B.
Dunsterville, 1st Battalion East Surrey Regiment, Aide-de-Camp; Captain
A.R. Dick, 2nd Punjaub Cavalry, and Lieutenant Viscount Fincastle, 16th
(The Queen's) Lancers.

64. It will have been gathered from the foregoing narrative that the
three brigades of the force were ably commanded by Brigadier-Generals
W.H. Meiklejohn, C.B., C.M.G., 1st Brigade; P.D. Jeffreys, [Wounded in
action, 16th September, 1897.] C.B., 2nd Brigade, and J.H. Wodehouse,
C.B., C.M.G., [Wounded in action, 20th September, 1897.] 3rd
Brigade, who were efficiently seconded by their staffs. The Line of
Communications and the Base were also most efficiently managed
by Colonel A.J.F. Reid, Commanding the Malakand Brigade, and by
Lieut.-Colonel A.V. Schalch, 11th Bengal Infantry, the Base Commandant,
and their respective staffs.

65. In my final report on the conclusion of the operations of the force,
I shall have the honour to bring the services of the officers above
briefly referred to more fully to the notice of His Excellency the
Commander-in-Chief.

66. Major H.A. Deane, C.S.I., Political Agent, Dur, Chitral and Swat,
was in separate and independent charge of the political arrangements
connected with the operations I have described, as far as Nawagai. He
accompanied my headquarters to Ghosam, where I left him on the 12th
September, and rejoined me at Inayat Kila on the 4th October. He gave
much assistance in arranging for the collection of local supplies.

67. Mr. W.S. Davis was my political officer throughout the operations
beyond Nawagai, and in the Mamund Valley prior to Major Deane's return
to my headquarters on the 4th October. He carried out his duties to my
complete satisfaction. His native assistant, Khan Bahadur Ibrahim Kham,
also made himself very useful.


                        END OF TEXT






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