"Then, of course, we gave you up again, when we heard of the massacre of the mission; and it seemed like a resurrection from the dead when I got a letter from Roberts, saying you were found again, and that he was recommending you for a commission.

"I see by the Gazette you are appointed to the 66th, and we were expecting to see you on your way down. Had you any difficulty in getting through the passes?"

"The convoy was attacked, sir, by the tribesmen, when near Jugdulluk; but the garrison came out to our rescue, and we got through safely. But we had thirty men killed or wounded."

"A smart affair!" the colonel said. "And now, of course, you will take up your quarters with us, for a day or two, before you go on. The officers will all be glad to see you; and you will be able to tell us all about the attack on the mission, and the recent fighting. Roberts has been having some hot work, there.

"We have been grumbling horribly at our bad luck. We thought, at the time, we were fortunate at being sent back to India, when peace was signed, instead of being kept in the Khurum valley. But the consequence has been that we have been out of it all. However, we must look upon you as our representative."

Will hesitated about staying, but the colonel overruled his objection; saying that, as there would be no fighting until the spring, there could be no particular hurry for him to join his regiment. A spare room was placed at his disposal, in the colonel's quarters, and Will was soon made at home. The officers flocked in, upon hearing of his arrival; and all congratulated him, most warmly, upon his promotion. An hour later, a mounted orderly rode up to the colonel's quarters.

"Is Lieutenant Gale here?" he asked.

Will went forward.

"A note from the general," the orderly said and, handing it to him, "also one for Colonel Shepherd."

Illustration: Letters from the General.

Will's note was simply an invitation to dine, that evening, with the general. The colonel's letter was as follows:

"Colonel Shepherd,

"As Lieutenant Gale was promoted from your regiment, I think it is likely that he has found his way to you. I have written to ask him to dinner; please spare him to me. I hope you will do me the pleasure of accompanying him. He has performed a most gallant action; and I have just had the pleasure of writing a dispatch, recommending him for the V.C."

Will and the colonel at once wrote notes, accepting the invitation. When these had been sent out to the orderly the colonel read aloud, to the officers present, the note he had received from the general.

"Now," he said, turning to Will, "what is that you have been doing? You told us the convoy had been attacked, and sharply pressed; but you said nothing of your share in the affair. What was it?"

"It was simple enough, sir," Will answered, coloring hotly. "We were surrounded, just at the mouth of the defile. The enemy held the valley in front in great force, and another party were pressing on our rear. Things looked awkward; and so I volunteered, with my faithful Afghan boy, to get through the fellows in front, and make my way down to Jugdulluk—which was four miles away—to bring the garrison up on their rear.

"It was simple enough and, in fact, there was less danger than in remaining with the convoy, to be popped at by the Afghans. The night was very dark and, down in the bottom, one could hardly see one's hand. The Afghans had been cleared pretty well off the road, by our fire; so there was no difficulty, whatever, in making our way down. We were, in fact, only questioned once; and my boy's statement, that we were wounded and were going to the rear, was accepted at once."

"The fact that you succeeded," the colonel said, "does not detract from the pluck required to attempt such an adventure. To my mind, there is more courage required in venturing, alone, through the midst of the Afghans, at night, than there would be in charging any number of them, in hot blood, in the light. You have earned the V.C. well, Gale; and I am sure we all feel proud of you, though you do not belong to us, now."

There was a chorus of approval from the officers around.

"I don't belong to you now, sir, but," Will said, earnestly, "I shall always feel, whatever regiment I may be with, that the Norfolk Rangers are my corps. It is the kindness which was shown me, here, which has put me in the way of rising; and I shall never forget it."

It was now time to dress for dinner; and Will, for the first time, arrayed himself in full-dress uniform. The buttons and facings he would, of course, get altered when he joined the regiment.

The general received Gale with great kindness. He had a large party to dinner. Among them was Captain Edwards; and after the table was cleared the latter—at the general's request—gave a full account of the attack upon the convoy; and Will was then called upon to relate the part which he had taken in it, which he did very modestly and quietly.

For two days longer he stopped at Jellalabad; and then, with a hearty farewell to the officers of the Rangers, he started down the pass. He again journeyed with a convoy for, although the tribes below Jellalabad were cowed into submission, many attacks were made, by the mountaineers, upon small parties going up or down the passes; and stringent orders had been issued that no officer should go down, except when accompanied by an escort.

After a week's traveling Will arrived, with Yossouf, at Peshawur. Then he rode, by easy stages, until he reached the Indus where, taking his place on a steamer, he traveled down the river to Sukkur; where he disembarked, and started for the weary march, across the desert, to the foot of the Bolan.

Along the road large numbers of coolies were at work, constructing a line of railway, which was now almost complete to the foot of the pass. It did not ascend this but, turning to the right, wound up the hills to the plateau. It was intended to be taken on to Candahar, and its completion would have been an immense boon, both to that city and to India; as it would have opened a great trade to the north, and have enabled the inhabitants of the fertile plain, around Candahar, to send their corn, fruit, and other products down to India. Unhappily, with the subsequent abandonment of Candahar the formation of the railway was stopped; and the whole allowed to go to ruin. The work has, however, been recently taken in hand again.

Will and his follower ascended the Bolan; stopped a day or two at Quettah, to rest their horses; and then proceeded on through the fertile plains of Pisheen, and over the Kojak Pass, and thence on to Candahar. Here Will joined his new regiment, and was well received by its officers.

In every regiment in the service, an officer risen from the ranks is invariably received with special courtesy, and kindness. Every endeavor is made to place him at his ease, in his new position. This is specially so when—as in Will's case—the promotion has been earned by distinguished services in the field.

In most instances, officers promoted from the rank of sergeant are a good deal older than the young lieutenants among whom they find themselves. Being often married men, and having nothing but their pay to depend upon, they find themselves, therefore, unable to take much part in the pleasures and gaieties of the regiment. In India, however, as the rate of pay is much higher, an unmarried officer can live very comfortably on his pay; and as, in the field, the expenses are far less than when a regiment is in cantonments at a large station—where there is much gaiety—Will found that he was able to live very comfortably, on his pay, in the same style as that of his comrades.

They, on their part, were pleased to find in Will a young fellow of the same age as the other junior lieutenants and, withal, a pleasant, gentlemanly young man. The fact, too, that he had seen so much service, had gone through stirring adventures, and had fought by the side of Cavagnari in the Bala-Hissar, made him quite a hero among them; and Will was soon thoroughly one of themselves.

When it was known that the regiment was likely to remain at Candahar for some time, many luxuries had been brought up from India; together with means of passing away the time, such as the necessary appliances for cricket, racket, and other games. Among these, too, were several boxes of books; and Will—who had, at first, a little amused his comrades by his absolute ignorance of cricket, but who soon became a promising recruit at that game—steadily devoted three hours a day to reading, in order to improve his mind, and to obtain a knowledge of the various matters which were topics of conversation among his comrades. Above all he diligently studied the newspapers—great parcels of which arrived every week—in order to obtain some knowledge of the political state of affairs in England, the position of parties, and the various matters occupying public attention.

He had, at first, found his ignorance of these matters a great drawback to him, in general conversation; but he discovered that newspapers, rather than books, are useful in enabling a man to mix with his fellows in social talk; and that the current events of the day form ninety-nine hundredths of the subjects of conversation. The fact that all his mess mates had been thoroughly posted in the history of Rome and Greece, that they could read these languages almost a well as English, that they had been coached in high mathematics, and had a knowledge of French and German, gave them—Will found—very little advantage in general conversation; and he was surprised to discover how entirely useless, from a practical point of view, is much of the instruction which must be mastered by young men, before obtaining a commission.

Many times, when talking with the young officers with whom he was most intimate, he inquired of them what good they found the learning they had obtained, during their many years of schooling; and was surprised at the universal reply: "No good, whatever!" He found, however, that some of the more thoughtful of them admitted that they had gained increased powers of thought, and reasoning, from their training.

"That is the good of education, Gale," Captain Fletcher—who commanded Will's company—said to him one day. "A certain time must be spent upon education, and the course of study is intended to strengthen and improve the mental powers. As far as soldiers are concerned, it would certainly be of more practical use if the time we spent at school on Greek, and mathematics, had been expended in acquiring three or four European and Indian languages. But you see, boys educated at the same school must all work together, and study the same books, whatever the profession for which they are intended is. Our practical—that is, our professional education—only begins when we go to Woolwich, or Sandhurst.

"Perhaps, some day, a different system will be employed. There will be special schools for lads intended for various professions, and careers. Till that is done, we must all work upon a common basis; which has at least the advantage of forming the mind, for the after work of acquiring the special branches of knowledge required, by us, in the careers we may adopt.

"If you ask my advice I should not, at your time of life, dream of setting to to learn the dead languages, or to study mathematics. Read the histories of Rome and Greece, and study that of your own country. Read books of travel and the biographies of great men, and keep yourself well posted—as you are doing—in current public events. You will then find yourself able to take part, on equal terms, in any conversation which may be going on. You will, indeed, be considered by strangers an exceptionally well-informed young fellow; and you may pass through life without any person having a suspicion that Latin, Greek, and mathematics—the cardinal points of an ordinary education—are wholly unknown to you."

Will was cheered by the advice and, henceforth, directed his studies only in the direction which Captain Fletcher had indicated.

At the beginning of April, a large diminution had taken place in the force stationed at Candahar; as General Sir Donald Stewart marched, with the greater portion of the force, for Cabul. The route led through a country which was the stronghold of the fanatical party—the important town of Ghuzni containing the most fanatical population in all Afghanistan. This had been the center whence the attacks on General Roberts had been organized, and it was deemed necessary to march a strong force through the country, to overawe the tribesmen, and break up their organization.

The march was uneventful as far as Shahjui, the limit of the Candahar province. At this point the Taraki country begins. The Mollahs here had been actively preaching a holy war, and several thousand men were reported as having collected. The villages were found to be deserted, and everything betokened an active opposition to the advance.

When the head of the column arrived at Ahmed-Khel, a body of the enemy—estimated at from 12,000 to 15,000—were seen clustered on a semicircle of hills, beyond the village. The baggage of the column stretched far along the road, and it was all important to prevent the enemy from falling upon this long line. General Stewart therefore determined to attack them.

The two batteries of artillery opened fire upon the enemy; who at once, in reply, rushed down to the assault. The charge was led by some 3000 or 4000 Ghazis—as they were called—fanatics, who had sworn to give their lives in carrying out their object, of exterminating the hated infidel. Some of these men were armed with rifles and matchlocks; some with heavy swords, knives, and pistols; others, again, with pikes made of bayonets, or pieces of sharpened iron fastened upon long sticks. Some were on foot, and some on horseback.

With wild yells, the mass rushed down upon our troops; and so sudden and unexpected was the attack, so swiftly did they cross the 400 or 500 yards of intervening ground, that they came upon the British before preparation could be made for their reception. At the moment when they charged, some of the cavalry were moving across in front of the infantry; and these, before they could be got into a line for a charge, were surrounded by the enemy.

In an instant they were lost to sight, in the cloud of dust and smoke. It was a hand-to-hand struggle and, in the confusion, a troop charged to the right, in rear of the main line of the infantry, and burst into the midst of the 19th Punjaub Infantry; who were in reserve, in rear of the position occupied by the general and his staff.

In a moment, all was confusion. The ammunition mules were stampeded, riderless horses dashed hither and thither and, close behind the cavalry, the Ghazis—with a furious rush—dashed in among the broken infantry. Upon the left flank, too, the Ghazis swept round in the rear of our infantry line and, for a time, it seemed as if the whole British formation was broken up—in which case the numbers of their foes must have prevailed. Colonel Lister, V.C. however—who commanded the 3rd Ghoorkas—threw his men rapidly into company squares, and poured a tremendous fire into the fanatics.

All along the line the attack raged; and so hurriedly had the battle commenced that many of the men had not even fixed bayonets. Desperate was the hand-to-hand fighting, and valor more conspicuous than that of the Ghazis was never shown. Furiously they threw themselves upon the line of their opponents; clutching their muskets and trying to wrench them from their hands, while they strove to cut down their holders. Many of them threw themselves upon the fixed bayonets, and died in the endeavor to cut down the soldiers with their swords; but the three regiments which formed the line—one British (the 59th), one Ghoorkas, and one Sikhs—alike held their own, and poured rolling volleys into the ranks of the enemy.

Desperately the Ghazis strove to capture the guns; which were firing case and shrapnel into them, at a distance of thirty yards, mowing them down in hundreds. Not even would this terrible slaughter have checked them, had not the 2nd Punjaub Cavalry most gallantly charged them, again and again.

The general, surrounded by his escort, was in the midst of the fight—the enemy having burst in between the guns and the 59th Foot—and officers and troopers had, alike, to fight for their lives; several of the escort being killed and wounded. At last, however, the Ghazis fell back from the terrible fire.

The 1st Punjaub Cavalry, coming up from the rear, joined the 2nd in a hot pursuit; and our native allies the Hazaras, seeing the Afghans in retreat, also rushed out after them, and the rout of the enemy was complete. The fighting had lasted about an hour, and the enemy left over a thousand dead on the field, besides the bodies which had been carried off Their wounded, of course, were far more numerous. Ghuzni surrendered without opposition, when the column reached it; the fighting men having been engaged in the battle of Ahmed-Khel, and having had enough of hostilities.

On the 23rd of April, a force under Brigadier General Palliser advanced against a large body of natives, who had assembled near the village of Ghalez—again led by the Ghazis. These rushed to the attack, with a courage and desperation equal to that shown by the fanatics in the previous battle. Our men however were, this time, prepared; and were able to inflict very heavy losses upon the enemy, without allowing them to get to close quarters.

This was the end of the Afghan resistance. General Stewart moved on to Cabul without further fighting, and effected a junction there with the force under General Roberts.



Chapter 18: On The Helmund.

With the junction of the forces of Generals Stewart and Roberts, what may be called the second period of the Afghan war came to an end. All opposition had ceased, and it appeared probable that there would be no more fighting.

Abdul-Rahman, a prince of the royal house who—after for some time fighting against Sheer Ali—had been defeated, and obliged to fly the country; had, for a long time, been a resident among the Russians. Upon the abdication of Yakoub he had crossed the frontier, and had entered at the north of Afghanistan; assuming the title of Ameer. He had been well received in that part of the country, and as no other competitor for the throne appeared to have chances equal to his, and as the British government were most anxious to withdraw their forces from the country, his authority was recognized by us. Negotiations were opened with him; and it was arranged that, as he approached Cabul, the British force would retire.

The summer had passed not unpleasantly, at Candahar. The country was peaceful. Cricket matches were got up between the various regiments, and horse races established. Candahar was governed by a protege of the British, named Wali Shere Ali. He had organized a native army, to support his authority upon our withdrawal.

The only circumstances which occurred to mar the pleasing time were isolated attacks, upon British officers and men, by Ghazis. These attacks were sometimes made in broad daylight, in the streets of Candahar, where the escape of those who perpetrated them was impossible. These fanatics regarding their own life with indifference, so that they could but kill one or more of the British, before being cut down.

One day, as William Gale was walking in the principal street of Candahar, at a short distance behind Colonel Ripon—an Indian official of very long standing and experience, who had come up on a special mission to arrange, with the Wali, the details of the civil government of the province—he saw three Afghans, who were loitering in the road, draw their long tulwars and dash upon that officer.

The first who reached him delivered a sweeping blow; which the colonel, taken by surprise, partly received on his uplifted arm—but was struck to the ground. Another of the Ghazis raised his sword; but before it could fall Will Gale—who saw at once that he was too far behind to interpose between the assailant and the victim—drew his revolver from his belt and, taking a hasty aim, fired. The shot was an accurate one; the bullet striking the Afghan on the forehead, just as he was about to strike. He fell forward on the colonel; receiving, as he did so, a tremendous blow which the third Ghazi was aiming at the prostrate man.

Illustration: Will saves Colonel Ripon.

Before the blow could be repeated, Will had bounded forward and, sword in one hand and revolver in the other, faced the two Afghans. Another shot freed him of one of his assailants; just as the other, rushing recklessly forward, aimed a blow at him—which he was not quick enough to parry. His right arm fell to his side but, in an instant, he threw himself upon his foe; and the two fell heavily to the ground, the Afghan striving desperately to shorten his sword, so as to use the point; while Will strove to liberate his left arm—which was under the man—and so use his revolver, which he still grasped.

At this moment some soldiers of the 66th ran up; and one of them, with his bayonet—which, since these attacks began, were always carried at the belt—brought the conflict to a conclusion, by running it through and through the Ghazi's body.

Will soon rose to his feet. Colonel Ripon had already freed himself from the body of the dead Ghazi, and had struggled to his feet; the blood streaming from his head and arm.

"I have to thank you for my life, sir," he said, warmly. "Had your aid come but two seconds less promptly, they would have finished me.

"But I fear you are severely wounded."

"Oh, no!" Will answered. "It is only a flesh wound, from my shoulder to my elbow. Luckily, my sword partly caught the blow. I was aiming at the other fellow, and had not time to parry fairly. I shall be none the worse for it, in a week's time. My wound is less severe than yours, sir."

"We are both bleeding pretty freely," the colonel said. "My quarters are close at hand and, as the principal medical officer lives in the same house, you cannot do better than come in with me."

In a few minutes their wounds were bandaged, the doctor saying that no serious harm had been done, in either case; but that care and quiet, lest fever should supervene, would be necessary for a week or two. As the house was much more airy, and commodious, than that in which Will was quartered, the colonel begged him so strongly to move his quarters thither, until able to return to duty, that Will agreed to do so; and was soon installed, with Yossouf in attendance, in the colonel's quarters. He was greatly pleased with the old officer, whose manner was most kind and courteous; and who, from his long experience in India, was full of anecdotes and information concerning the country.

Ten days after the struggle, the doctor told them that there was no longer any occasion for his services. Their wounds were healing favorably, and all fear of fever had passed. At the same time, it would still be some time before either could take their arms from their slings.

The following day, in honor of his convalescence, Colonel Ripon invited several friends to dinner; among them General Burrows, and Colonel Galbraith of the 66th. All had, of course, heard the details of the attack on Colonel Ripon; and Will was congratulated, warmly, upon the promptness that he had showed.

"Do you know, colonel," General Burrows said, as they were smoking their cigars after dinner, "there is a wonderful likeness between you and Lieutenant Gale. I should have taken you for father and son, anywhere."

The other officers agreed with the remark.

The likeness was certainly strong. Both were men of six feet in height. The colonel's hair and mustache were grizzled, and his face bronzed with the sun of many Indian summers. He was thin and spare of habit; but his shoulders were broad, and it was evident that, in his youth, he must have possessed much of the muscular strength which was apparent in Will's more rounded limbs. But it was in their eyes that there was the greatest similarity. Both were gray, and of nearly the same shade; both had a simple, straightforward, and kindly expression; both were shaded by straight, and rather heavy eyebrows.

The men looked at each other.

"I suppose he is like me," Colonel Ripon said; "still more like, I fancy, what I remember myself, at his age; but curiously enough he has—ever since I met him—been recalling some one else to my mind;" and a shade passed over his face.

Seeing that Colonel Ripon was not disposed to talk further on the subject, a fresh topic of conversation was started. There was news that Ayoub Khan—the brother of Yakoob, who was governor at Herat—was marching south, at the head of a large force, with the intention of opposing Abdul-Rahman, and again reseating Yakoob on the throne. He had also preached a holy war against the British.

"I fear that the trouble is serious," General Burrows said. "The troops Ayoub is bringing with him have not yet met us in the field. The population on the road is wild and fanatical, in the extreme; and will, no doubt, join him to a man. On the other hand, the troops of the Wali are not to be depended upon, and the brunt of the fighting is sure to fall upon us."

Three days later, the order was issued by General Primrose that the 66th Regiment, the Bombay Grenadiers, and Jacob's Rifles; together with the 3rd Scinde Horse and 3rd Bombay Cavalry, with a battery of artillery; were to move out with the Wali's army towards Girishk, on the river Helmund, which formed the boundary between the province of Candahar and that of Herat.

After the long period of inactivity at Candahar, Will was delighted at the thought of taking part in an expedition, with his regiment; but when they reached the Helmund life was, for some time, exceedingly monotonous. The news of Ayoub's advance greatly excited the population—who had been further worked up by agents, widely distributed through the country; and by the exhortations of the Mollahs and Ghazis. Consequently, rambling at any distance from the camp was forbidden; and the shooting parties, which had been one of the great resources of their life at Candahar, were peremptorily put an end to.

Colonel Ripon had accompanied the force, as the Wali's adviser. Both he and Will had recovered completely from their wounds. When the regiment first marched, indeed, the surgeon had strongly recommended Will to remain behind, until his wound had completely healed; but the young officer had so strongly begged to be allowed to accompany the regiment that the surgeon had consented. His colonel had, for a time, relieved him from all duty, and he rode in rear of the regiment; but within a fortnight of their arrival at the Helmund, he was able to lay aside his sling, and to take his turn of regular duty.

The officers did all that they could to make existence tolerable, on the sandy shores of the Helmund. They got up foot races and athletic sports for the men, played cricket on the sands, and indulged in a bath—twice a day—in the river. Will often spent the evening in Colonel Ripon's tent. A warm friendship had arisen between the two officers, and each day seemed to bring them closer together.

All this time, Ayoub's army was known to be approaching. It had been delayed by want of transport, and by the difficult nature of the country over which it had to pass. The guns, too—of which it was reported to have a large number—had greatly hampered it but, by the second week in July, it was near at hand.

For some time, the Wali's troops had been showing signs of insubordination; and little doubt was entertained that they had been tampered with, by Ayoub's emissaries. The question of disarming them was several times discussed; but the Wali maintained his faith that they would remain true to their salt, and the British force was so small that it was deemed imprudent to take any step to diminish their strength, by dispensing with the services of a strong body of men who might, after all, be faithful at the critical moment. Moreover, it was doubtful whether they would submit to be disarmed, by a force so inferior to their own. Should the attempt to disarm them succeed, they must either be escorted back to Candahar, by a strong detachment of the British; or be permitted to disperse, in which case they would assuredly swell the advancing army of Ayoub.

One day Will arranged to start, the next morning at daybreak, for a day's shooting with four other young officers—Hammond and Fortescue of Jacob's Rifles, and Plater and Lowther of the Grenadiers. The country round the camp had been already shot over, so they were to go some miles out. Will's colonel—in giving him leave off parade for the day—had asked him to endeavor to ascertain, at any village he might enter, the state of the feeling of the natives respecting Ayoub, and their disposition towards the British; points on which a deplorable ignorance existed, in the camp.

The party started before daybreak, putting their wiry little tats—or native ponies—into a gallop, so as to reach the spot—eight miles distant—where they were to begin to shoot as early as possible; so as to get two or three hours' sport, before the heat of the day really set in. After an hour's ride, they overtook their servants; who had gone on ahead, with the guns and luncheon. The sun was but just above the horizon, and the morning air was cool and pleasant.

Dismounting, they handed over the ponies to the servants and, taking the guns and ammunition, set out on foot. The servants were to go on, with the ponies and lunch, to a village in the hills, four miles distant; and to get tiffin ready, by eleven o'clock.

The young officers set out on foot, keeping a short distance apart. Two of their servants accompanied them, to carry the game; the other three went with the two Syces, who looked after the ponies The ground was broken and stony, and altogether uncultivated, except in the neighborhood of the villages. They had better sport than they expected, for hares darted out in numbers from behind the rocks. Some of these were bowled over, while others escaped; and there was much bantering and laughter among the young men, none of whom were first-class shots.

As the sun rose higher the game became more scarce and, by ten o'clock, the party turned their faces towards the village where they were to lunch; and which lay, they calculated, a mile or two away on their right. The sun was now blazing down upon them; and they were glad, indeed, when they came in sight of the village—which was not perceived until they were close to it, as it lay in a deep and rocky valley.

Yossouf met them, as they entered the village.

"Well, Yossouf, where have you laid the tiffin?"

"I have spread it, sahib, on a level piece of ground, in the shade of the chief's house. He did not seem disposed to be civil and, indeed, I thought that it would be more pleasant out of doors, in the shade, than inside."

"Much more pleasant, Yossouf; and these forts, as they call them, are generally stuffy places, with small windows. What is the feeling of the people here?"

"They are looking forward to Ayoub's coming, sir, when they say a holy war will be preached, and every man will rise against the infidels. When they found I was a countryman, they talked freely enough before me; especially as I led them to believe that I had been taken prisoner, at Cabul, and forced to accompany you as a sort of slave.

"I should recommend that, as soon as tiffin is over, you should start for the camp; for I don't think it is quite safe, here."

"They would never think of attacking us, Yossouf, with our force within an easy day's march."

"I don't know, sir," Yossouf said, doubtfully. "They say that the Wali's men are all with them; and that these, alone, are quite sufficient to eat up the three British regiments."

"They will find out their mistake, if they try it. However, Yossouf, I will let the others know what you think."

By this time, they had arrived at the spot where the lunch was laid out; and very tempting it looked, to hungry men. A great dish of curry—made with some fowls purchased in the village—was the principal dish; but there were some fish—which Yossouf had caught in the Helmund, on the previous day—a roast of young kid, and several dishes of fresh fruit. A large vessel of porous clay, containing the drinking water, stood close by; and the necks of some bottles of claret peeped, out from a tub full of water; while a pitcher of cold tea was ready, for those who preferred it. The young men set to with a vigorous appetite and, when the meal was over, pipes and cigars were lighted; and they prepared to enjoy a rest, until the heat of the day was past.

Will now told them what Yossouf had said.

"Oh, nonsense, Gale!" Hammond said. "Your boy is an Afghan, and these fellows are always dreaming about treachery.

"They are scowling, sulky-looking brutes," he said, looking at a group of natives, who stood watching them, with lowering eyes, "and of course, they hate us as infidel dogs but, as to attacking us, it's all nonsense."

"Well, you know, Hammond, these Ghazis do attack us, in all sorts of places—as I have found, to my cost—and these villages abound with these fanatics."

"Oh, yes," Fortescue said, lazily, "of course they do; but we have got our revolvers handy, and our guns are within reach of our hands. We should make precious short work of any Ghazis who were to run amuck among us.

"Well, I for one don't mean to move, till it gets a bit cooler. If these fellows want to attack us, they have got the chance, now; and there is no more reason they should do it, three hours hence, than when we are having our breakfast, quietly."



Chapter 19: The Battle Of Maiwand.

The servants were squatting in a circle near their masters, and enjoying their share of the breakfast. The two Syces were Beloochees, the others were men from the Deccan—the regiment having been stationed at Poona, before going up into Afghanistan. Of these, the Syces alone understood the Afghan language.

After the men had finished their meal, Yossouf strolled away by himself into the village. When he returned, Will saw that he wished to speak to him so, rising carelessly from the ground, he walked to the ponies—which were tied up near—and called Yossouf, as if to give him some instructions respecting them.

"Well, Yossouf, what is it? Have you learned anything?"

"No, sir, nothing. But the people no longer speak to me freely. They must have guessed, when they saw me speaking to you, that I was warning you; but I don't think things are right. The children are all in the houses, instead of playing about in the street. A few of the women are standing at their doors, but most of them are inside, too."

"But if the men are thinking of attacking us why shouldn't they do so, at once?"

"There are not above twenty or thirty men here, sahib. They may not think they are strong enough. Perhaps they have sent to some of the villages, for help."

"Likely enough, Yossouf; I did not think of that. Do you go up above the village, and have a good look round. I will try and persuade my friends to be moving."

Yossouf moved off at once; and Will stood for a minute or two, thinking what was the best to do. The position was not pleasant. Yossouf's suspicions might be altogether unfounded; but Will had found him to be so uniformly right, on former occasions, that he did not like to neglect his advice, now. After a little further thought, he joined his companions.

"Come," he said, "we had really better be moving. I believe we are in real danger."

The earnestness with which he spoke roused the others, who were all lying at full length on the ground.

"But as we said before, Gale," Fortescue urged, "why shouldn't they now attack us, if they wanted to? We have been here more than an hour."

"Perhaps they may think we shall all take a nap, after our tiffin," Will replied; "perhaps—as Yossouf thinks—they have sent off to some other villages, for assistance. He has gone up the hillside to look out. Anyhow, I can assure you, I think we had better be moving."

"It is beastly hot," Hammond said, getting up and stretching himself; "but as you are so earnest about it, Gale, perhaps we had better make a move. As you say, you know no end more of these fellows than we do; and you certainly ain't a fellow to get into a funk about nothing.

"Come on, boys, we had better do as Gale tells us."

"That's right," Will said, cheerfully. "And look here, if we get away from here without any disturbance, and find it all right, we can halt again, at the first shady place we come to; and stop there for two or three hours, till it gets cool."

"Wait a moment," he went on, as Hammond was about to order the ponies to be saddled. "Just let us settle what we had best do, should they attack us; which, if they mean it, they will do when they see we are moving off.

"I have been thinking it over. We have all got bullets in our pockets, to drop into our guns over the shot, in case of necessity. But these smooth-bore fowling pieces are of no good, except at close quarters; while the Afghan matchlocks will carry straight, a long way. Therefore, if we had to make a running fight of it, we should get the worst of it; for these fellows could keep up with us, easily—besides, there are the servants. Therefore, if a shot is fired, my advice is that we should make a dash at the chief's house. Seize that, and hold it."

"Yes, that would be a good plan," Fortescue said, for they were all sobered now, by Will's gravity; and convinced that there must be good grounds for his belief in danger.

"Look here, Gale, we are all senior to you in the date of our commissions, but you have seen no end of service and adventure; therefore I vote that you shall be commanding officer, until we get back to camp."

The others willingly agreed.

"Very well," Will said, "I will do my best.

"Hammond, will you tell your servant to get ready for a start, at once. Speak to him quietly and carelessly. Then, as the men move up more towards the ponies, tell them—in Hindustanee—to go about their work quietly but, in case of any trouble with the Afghans, to out with their swords, and join us in a rush at the chief's house."

Hammond carried out his instructions. The two Beloochees were not taken by surprise; for they, as well as Yossouf, had been feeling uneasy at the disappearance of all women and children from the scene. The other men looked startled; but they were stout fellows and, as all the native servants, were armed with swords, to enable them to resist sudden attacks by the country people; and as they had unbounded faith in their masters, they went about the work of packing up the plates and dishes, and preparing for a start, quietly enough.

As the Syces began to put the saddles on the tats, the Afghans spoke quickly and angrily together. Two or three minutes later, Yossouf arrived. He had evidently been running, for his breath came quick; but he now walked forward in a leisurely way.

"Two large parties are coming, master; one down the valley, and the other across the hills. They have got flags with them, and I am sure they are going to attack us."

Just at this moment an Afghan lad joined his seniors, and spoke rapidly to them. Will judged at once that he also had been placed on the watch. The chief of the village, accompanied by two or three of his men, now stepped forward.

"Ask the sahibs," he said to Yossouf, "why they are in such a hurry—why they want to start in the heat of the day? They had better wait till it is cooler."

Will did not wait for Yossouf's translation, but answered direct:

"We have duties at the camp, and must return at once."

The chief was surprised that one of the young officers should speak his tongue so fluently.

"It looks as if you were not pleased with the hospitality of our village," he said, "that you should hurry away so quickly."

"We are content with it—so far—but we must be off, now.

"Bring up the ponies quickly," he said to Yossouf. "Never mind those things, there is not a moment to be lost."

Yossouf and the servants brought up the ponies. The chief laid his hand on one of the bridles, and drew a pistol.

"Kaffir dogs," he said, "you shall not leave us, at all."

Will's hand was already on his revolver and, before the chief could level his pistol, he fired; and the Afghan fell dead.

There was a shout of rage from the others, and their long matchlocks were leveled It was well the party were prepared, or all might have been shot down, at once; but the instant Will fired, his friends raised their double-barreled guns to their shoulders and let fly the contents among the Afghans who—thrown into confusion by the sudden and unexpected attack—fired wildly, several of them dropping, from the effects of the shot.

"Now," Will shouted, "to the house, everyone of you!"

There was a rush and, before the Afghans knew what had happened, the little party had burst through those standing at the door of the house, and had barred and bolted it within. There were but two men inside; and these, running upstairs, leaped from the windows. A wild screaming was heard from the women and children.

"Yossouf, tell these women that we don't want to hurt them; but that they must be silent, and keep the children quiet, We have got enough to think about without this frightful row, inside. Then, when you have got them quiet, put them all in one room together, upstairs, and keep guard at the door. See that none of them leave the room; for they might steal down and open the door, to admit their friends, while we are busy.

"What! Fortescue, are you hit?"

"I am done for!" the young officer replied, faintly; "one of their bullets has gone through my body; but never mind me, now."

As he spoke he tottered, and would have fallen; had not the others supported him, and gently laid him down on a heap of skins, which served as an Afghan bed. Then—leaving his servant to attend to him, for a minute—the others ran upstairs, to see what was going on, without.

"Be careful!" Will exclaimed. "Don't show a head above the roof, or at a loophole, or you will get a bullet in your brain, to a certainty. Stand well back, so that they can't see you."

Already a pattering fire of musketry had broken out, round the house; but not an Afghan was to be seen, every man having taken his position in shelter.

"There is nothing to do, at present," Will said. "When the other parties arrive, they may make an attack; but I don't think they will do so, till night.

"Hammond, you had better go down to Fortescue, at present. One of the Syces can take Yossouf's place on guard over the women, and he can help you. The lad is a good nurse, but I fear there is nothing to be done for the poor fellow."

A few minutes later a wild outburst of shouts and yells, and a great firing of guns, announced that the other parties had arrived; and the cracking fire of the matchlocks around the fort became incessant. The defenders did not attempt to return it. It would only have been throwing away lives, uselessly, to approach any of the loopholes. In a quarter of an hour, Hammond rejoined his companions.

"He is gone, poor fellow!" he said. "He never spoke again. The bullet went close to the heart. I think he has bled to death, internally.

"I have handed his revolver to one of the Syces, and his gun to the other. Your man, Yossouf, has a revolver."

"What on earth are we to do now, Gale?" Plater asked. "You have been right thus far and, if it hadn't been for you putting us up to make a rush here, we should have been done for, long ago. But we are not much better off; for here we are, cooped up, and the betting is a hundred to one against our being rescued, in time. No one will know where to look for us and, though we may beat them off two or three times, in the end it is likely to go hard with us."

"Couldn't we send a messenger, with the news of the fix we are in?" Lowther asked; "though I don't see how any one is to get through."

"That's what I have been thinking about, ever since I first planned coming here," Will said; "but I am sure no one could get through. The Afghans know the importance of it and, when it gets dark, they will be so thick round the place that a mouse couldn't make its way through them, unobserved."

The situation was gloomy enough; but there was no lack of good spirits among the young officers, the danger causing their blood to course rapidly through their veins. Will sat on the floor, apart from the others. They had made him their commanding officer, and the responsibility of thinking for them devolved upon his shoulders.

Suddenly a thought struck him, and he leaped to his feet, with a shout.

"I've got it!"

"You will get it, if you don't mind," Hammond said, dryly; as a bullet passed through one of the loopholes, and struck the wall an inch or two from Will's head. "But what is it?"

"When it gets quite dusk we will call a parley, and tell them we don't want to keep the women here. They are only in our way, and eat up the food; so we will open the door, and let them go."

"But what will you do that for, Gale? You were saying, a short time ago, that the women could be kept as hostages."

"So they might, Hammond; but it will be more useful to us to let them go. There are seven women here. Six of them shall go out; and with them, in the clothes of the seventh, Yossouf."

"Capital! Capital!" the others exclaimed. "Don't you think they will notice him?"

"No," Will said, "we won't do it till dusk, and some of these women are as tall as he is. They will hurry them away as quickly as possible, so as to recommence the attack and, wrapped up as these Afghan women are, no one could see the difference. Once fairly away, we can trust Yossouf for finding an opportunity of slipping away, and bringing us help."

Will now laid the plan before Yossouf, who at once agreed to attempt it. The day passed slowly, the fire of the enemy being kept up, without intermission.

"Now," Will said at last, "it is getting dark enough, let us put the plan into operation. In the first place the women must be separated, and taken into separate rooms; the one Yossouf has fixed upon, as nearest his height, into a room by herself. Then Yossouf must tell the old mother of the chief that they are to be released; and that she must show herself on the roof, and make them stop firing, till they have gone out. While she is doing that, he can slip down and dress himself in the robes of the woman. She must be gagged, to prevent her screaming, or making a row, as her companions go out."

Greatly surprised was the old woman, at being told that she was to be released. These Kaffirs must be mad, she thought, to give up their hostages. However, she at once proceeded to carry the orders into effect.

Before raising her head above the roof, she uttered a loud quavering cry—the cry of welcome of the Afghan women. The firing without instantly ceased. Again raising the cry, she stepped out on to the roof; and shouted that the English did not want to keep the women, and that the door would be open for them to come out—providing the Afghans promised that no attempt to enter should be made, and that none should move from their present places, until the women had fairly left.

There was a shout of surprise and satisfaction; and one of the chiefs rose to his feet, and gave the promise in the name of his companions.

"How many are there of you?" he asked.

"Seven," the woman answered.

"Are the children to come?"

"We may take away the babies, but the three boys are to remain behind."

Five minutes later the door of the fort opened, and seven figures came out. Not a shot was heard, until they had passed down the street of the village, and had entered a house at the further end; then the rapid fire commenced again. Twice, during the evening, did the Afghans attempt to storm the little fort, but were each time repulsed, with loss; the fire of the five double-barreled guns—loaded with shot and bullets—and of the revolvers proving too much for them.

The second attack was made about eleven. A quarter of an hour later, wild shouts were heard outside. There was an instant cessation of the enemy's fire; and then, in the silence, the deep thundering sound of galloping horses was heard.

"Hurrah!" Will shouted, "here they are."

A minute later, the Third Bombay Cavalry dashed up to the fort. The door was thrown open, and the little garrison ran out.

"All safe?" the officer in command asked.

"All safe, except Fortescue—who was killed at the first attack."

"So we heard, from your boy," the officer said. "He has ridden back with us, as guide.

"Now, lads, dismount and clear the village. Shoot every man you find, turn the women out of the houses, and then set them on fire. Don't waste any time over it, for the rascals are swarming round the place.

"Captain Lawson, you take your troop and dismount it as skirmishers, round the place; and keep them off, till we have done here.

"Here, you four men who brought the powder kegs, carry them inside this fort. We are going to blow it up, to give them a lesson."

Ten minutes later, the cavalry were again in their saddles. Spare horses had been brought for the four officers; and the servants mounted the tats, which would be able to keep up with the cavalry. The flames were already bursting out brightly from the houses.

The yells of the Afghans rose high, and their bullets flew thickly over the village; but they kept at a respectful distance. The officer in command gave the word, and the party set off at a trot. Before they had left the village a deep roar was heard, and they knew that the Afghan fort was destroyed. Two hours later they arrived safely in camp; where the four rescued officers were warmly congratulated, on their narrow escape, by their friends.

On the 14th of July, the conspiracy among the Wali's troops came to a head. They openly mutinied; and marched out, with their cannon and arms, from the camp. This was situated at a short distance from that of the British, and Colonel Ripon was the first to gallop in with the news.

Unfortunately, the British commander was not a man endowed with promptness of decision; and no steps were taken, until the mutineers had proceeded a considerable distance. Then the cavalry and artillery were despatched, in pursuit. Had the order been given at once, there can be no doubt that the Wali's force would have been completely cut up; and those who escaped would have arrived a mere horde of fugitives, for the most part without arms, at Ayoub's camp.

Late as was the pursuit it was not ineffectual. Six British guns opened fire upon the Wali's artillery—which was in rear of the retreating column—with such effect that the gunners were seized with a panic and, cutting the traces, fled for their lives. A good many were cut down by the British cavalry, and the six guns deserted by them were brought into camp.

Colonel Burrows' little force now stood alone; for he had with him but 1500 infantry, 500 cavalry, and six of his own guns, besides those taken from the mutineers—a force altogether disproportioned to that with which Ayoub was advancing; swelled, as it was, by the accession of the Wali's army. A message was sent to General Primrose at Candahar, asking for reinforcements; but that officer, although he had a considerable force at his disposal, declined to despatch any reinforcements, whatever.

News now arrived that Ayoub, instead of marching direct upon Girishk, had crossed the Helmund higher up; and was moving across the country, by a line parallel with the road from Candahar to Girishk. By this movement he would have the option of placing himself either between Colonel Burrows' force and Candahar; of marching direct upon the latter city; or of keeping to the north, and coming down upon the road between Candahar and Shahpur, and then marching direct for Cabul. Under these circumstances General Burrows determined to fall back, at once, to a spot where he might oppose Ayoub's advancing force. Accordingly, the brigade marched from the Helmund to a village called Khusk-I-Nakhud, and there encamped. General Nuttal, with the cavalry, made reconnaissances in the direction of the enemy.

The people of the country held altogether aloof, and no accurate information was obtained as to the strength of Ayoub's army; which was believed, by General Burrows, to be very much smaller than it really was. Early in the morning of the 26th, it was known that Ayoub was marching upon Maiwand—a village farther to the north—and at half-past six, the troops moved out to intercept him.

It was at this time believed that it was only the enemy's cavalry with whom we should have to deal. Upon arriving near Maiwand, however, news was brought in, by spies, that the whole of the enemy were at hand. The force was at once halted, in a position singularly ill-adapted for a fighting ground. Deep ravines ran both to the right, and to the left, of the ground occupied by the British. By these, the enemy could advance under shelter, until within a short distance. On either side were ranges of hills, completely commanding the position.

It is difficult to imagine a more unsuitable position than that which General Burrows prepared to hold, with a mere handful of troops, against an enormously superior force. What was the total strength of Ayoub's army was never exactly known—as it was swollen by enormous numbers of Ghazis, and tribesmen from the villages. These were, in fact, far more formidable opponents than the regular Afghan troops; as their tremendous rushes, and indifference to the loss inflicted upon them, were trying in the extreme for even the best-trained troops to withstand.

The morning was thick, and but little could be seen of Ayoub's army. His cavalry, indeed, were found to be moving about in large masses; but these fell back, at our advance. Lieutenant Maclean—with two horse artillery guns, and a small cavalry escort—galloped out on the extreme left, and opened fire on the Afghan cavalry. His infantry at once appeared in force, swarming down towards the guns; and these were withdrawn, to a position nearer to our line.

The British infantry were formed in the following order: the 66th were on the right, the Bombay Grenadiers in the center, and Jacob's Rifles on the left. Two guns were placed in position to support the 66th, on the right. The remaining four British guns, and the six smooth-bore guns—captured from the Wali's mutineers—were placed between the Grenadiers and Jacob's Rifles. The 3rd Scinde Horse and 3rd Bombay Light Cavalry were formed in the rear of the line.

As the enemy advanced, our guns opened a heavy fire upon them; but it was fully an hour before their artillery replied. Then thirty guns were unmasked, and opened fire upon the British line. Under cover of this heavy fire, swarms of the enemy's irregulars advanced towards our position. When within 600 or 700 yards of the 66th, the British opened with their Martini rifles; and the shower of lead, at such an unexpected distance, checked the advance of the enemy.

For some time the artillery duel continued; but the enemy's guns were then moved on to the hills, on either side of the British position, and a terrible crossfire was opened from both flanks. At about two o'clock, the smooth-bore guns began to get short of ammunition. Only sixty rounds had been captured with them and, there being no reserve of ammunition fitting them, they ceased fire.

The position now became most serious. From the ravines on either side the Ghazis swarmed up, in vast numbers. The artillery thundered from the heights upon our troops. Some of their batteries were brought up to within very short distances; and great numbers of the enemy, keeping along the ravines sheltered from our fire, came up in the rear and seized the villages there.

The companies of Jacob's Rifles on the left; after resisting, for some time, the furious attacks of the Ghazis, began to waver. The enemy's cavalry swept down in heavy masses; while our cavalry—for some reason which has never been explained—remained inactive. The general has stated that he ordered them to charge, but that they would not do so; the cavalry affirm that they never received orders. Anyhow, at this critical moment the 3rd Scinde Horse and the 3rd Bombay Cavalry remained inactive.

The confusion amid Jacob's Rifles rapidly grew, in spite of the efforts of the officers to rally them. The Ghazis swept down upon them; and the Rifles broke in confusion, and rushed among the Bombay Grenadiers who—hitherto fighting steadily—also fell into confusion, as the Rifles and Ghazis burst into their ranks.

"This is hot work," Will Gale said to his captain, when the enemy's guns, on the heights on either side, began to play on the line of the 66th with their flank fire.

"It is, indeed," the officer answered, "and the fire of the enemy, from the edge of that ravine, is very trying. I wish to heaven the general would move us farther back. He has made a hideous mistake in fighting on such ground as this."

"It would be difficult to withdraw, now," Will said. "It would shake the confidence of the men. I think, myself, that we ought to advance, and drive the enemy before us, till we take up some really defensible position; but I doubt if the Afghans would wait for that. In all our history, a British charge against an Indian enemy has always been successful, no matter how great the odds."

"It is a bad lookout," the captain said, as a shell burst close by him, killing and wounding five or six men. "It is quite evident that if we stay where we are we must, in time, be annihilated. Our fellows will stand, no doubt; they are English soldiers, and well officered. But how can one expect the two Indian regiments—with only three or four white officers, each—to remain steady, under such a fire as this, and with these desperate charges of Ghazis upon them?"

Very steadily the 66th held their ground, in spite of a flanking fire of artillery and musketry. Every time the enemy gathered at the edge of the ravine, for a rush, the heavy fire of the company on the flank—which was wheeled back at a right angle to the line, so as to face them—drove them back to shelter again. The regiment had suffered very heavily. Still, the officers felt that they could endure, till nightfall.

Of victory, there was now no idea; for to conquer, men must act and, here, they were only called upon to suffer. Presently a wild tumult was heard to the left; and then the men of the scattered native regiments burst, in a tumultuous mass, into the ranks of the 66th.

"Steady, men, steady!" shouted the officers.

But it was of no avail. All was in hopeless confusion. The artillery fired, until the Ghazis were within a few yards of them; then they hastily limbered up, and fell back. But the Ghazis were too close at hand, and two of the guns were lost.

Even now, had the cavalry charged upon the Afghans, time would have been given to the broken infantry to form again into a solid mass, and to draw off from the field in good order. But the cavalry remained inactive. Both these regiments had a record of good service in the field; but their conduct, on this occasion, was little short of disgraceful.

Among the infantry all order was lost and, mixed up in a confused mass, hemmed in on all sides by the enemy, they fell back—each man fighting for himself—upon the village behind. Here, in the walled enclosures, the 66th and the Grenadiers rallied, and fought nobly. Each house was used as a fortress, and only carried after a desperate struggle. Here Colonel Galbraith, and nine other officers of the 66th were killed; and the greater portion of the regiment shared their fate.

Some bodies of the troops—entirely cut off from the rest, in their retreat—stood their ground in the open, and fought desperately to the end; surrounding themselves, ere they died, with a ring of slaughtered enemies. So desperate was the defense in some cases that—outnumbering them fifty to one—the enemy never dared to come to close quarters with the gallant band; which kept up a rain of fire on them, till the last man had fallen. So long and stoutly was the village defended, that the great majority of the broken fugitives had time to pass out behind.

General Burrows—who had done his best to stem the rout—drew off the shattered remains; and fell back with them, in fair order.

Will Gale's company was in the right flank of the regiment and, therefore, farthest from the point where the line was broken by the rush of the native troops. Seeing what was taking place, the captain formed his men into company square; and fell back to the village, in fair order. The company then threw itself into a house, with a walled garden, to the right of the village; and its steady fire, in no slight degree, helped to keep back the Afghans, and cover the retreat. This they did, until General Burrows himself rode up, and ordered them to fall in.

"Your company has done good service, sir," he said to Captain Fletcher; "and it is for you, now, to cover the retreat."

Slowly and in good order the company fell back and, joining the troops who still retained their formation, retired slowly; facing about, and pouring volley after volley into the Afghans, as they came out through the village. For two miles, the enemy pressed closely upon them; but their loss had already been immense, and all desired to join in the plundering of the British camp. Therefore the pursuit slackened and, three miles from the village, the rear guard were ordered to the main body, at quick march.



Chapter 20: Candahar.

"Thank God that is over," Captain Fletcher said, as he lifted his cap and wiped the perspiration from his forehead; "but the regiment is almost annihilated."

"I fear the worst is yet to come," Will said. "We are fifty miles from Candahar; and when we came out we had to carry water with us, for there was none to be found, on the way. We have a fearful march before us.

"What on earth has become of the cavalry? They have done nothing to cover the retreat."

"They have ridden on ahead," the captain said, bitterly, "without having drawn a sword in this day's fight; and will ride into Candahar tomorrow morning, without losing a man, save the few who were knocked over by the artillery."

Presently an officer rode up.

"Ah! Gale," he exclaimed, "thank God you are safe. I rode back to see."

And Colonel Ripon shook hands warmly with the young officer.

"I am glad to see that you are safe, sir," Will answered. "This has been a terrible day."

"It has, indeed," the colonel said, mournfully, "terrible! There has been nothing like it, since the retreat from Cabul in 1848. And how many of these poor fellows will reach Candahar, God only knows! The water bottles wore emptied, hours ago. The men are already exhausted with the long day's work, and parched with thirst; and we have fifty miles' tramp before us. Have you any wounded men here with you?"

"Several, sir, some of them badly hurt."

"Put one of the worst on my horse," Colonel Ripon said, dismounting; "and push on briskly, lads. There are some carts ahead. We will turn out the stores, and put the wounded in.

"You had better let the men throw away their knapsacks, and all useless encumbrances," he said to Captain Fletcher. "You will have to march—and perhaps fight—all night; and must husband your strength."

Steadily, the rear guard followed the broken column. It consisted of men of the 60th and Grenadiers, mingled together; and well did they carry out their arduous duties. A portion were thrown out on each flat, while the rest kept to the road. This was strewn with arms and accouterments of all kinds. The men's hearts were wrung to the core, by the sight of the number of wounded who had dropped by the roadside; and who implored them, as they passed, not to leave them to be murdered by the enemy. Many of them were lifted and placed in carts—everything else being turned out, to make way for them—but many had to be left behind; for it would be impossible to carry them, on such a march.

Slowly the long night passed. All along the line ahead, a scattered fire of musketry could be heard; as the villagers shot down the fugitives who, in hopes of finding water, straggled from the road. Sometimes sharp volleys rang out, as the troops stood at bay, and drove back the natives, when they pressed upon them. Several times the rear guard were hotly engaged as the Afghans—furious at seeing their prey slipping from their fingers—mustered and fell upon them; but each time they were repulsed, and the column held on its way.

Will was in command of a mixed band, of some forty men, which moved to the right of the road. Colonel Ripon kept by his side, but few words were spoken, through the long night. The men were half mad with thirst and, had there been water near, nothing could have restrained them from rushing to it; but they knew that none could be obtained, until they reached Candahar. Many, in utter despair at the distance before them, threw themselves down on the ground to die. But the others kept on—stumbling and staggering as they marched, stupid and half blind—rallying only when the order came to turn, and repulse the enemy.

Two or three times in the night the rear guard halted, for a few minutes; and the men threw themselves down on the sand, where they picked the scattered herbage within their reach, and chewed it to quench their burning thirst.

Daylight was a welcome relief. They knew indeed that, with the rising of the sun, their torments would grow still greater; but the change from the long dreary darkness cheered them; and they could now see, from the nature of the country, that they were within fifteen miles of Candahar. They marched on for two more hours, and then the officer in command of the little body saw that they could do no more.

He therefore led them to a village on rising ground, a short distance from the road, and halted them there. The exhausted men threw themselves down in the shade of the houses. They had the long day yet to pass, and their thirst seemed unendurable; still, the halt was welcome, for there was not a man but felt that his strength was at an end, and that it would have been an impossibility to reach the city.

Captain Fletcher picked out a few of the least exhausted men, and placed them in the outskirts of the village to call the rest to arms in case the Afghans—numbers of whom were hovering round—should venture upon an attack. For the first hour after reaching the village, not a man moved from the spot where he had thrown himself down. The officers had searched the houses, and found some jars of water. These they carried round, and doled out a few mouthfuls to each man. Small though the amount was, the relief afforded was immense and, as soon as their first exhaustion had subsided, the men scattered through the gardens; plucking the vine leaves and chewing them and, fortunately, discovering a few gourds, which were cut up into small fragments, and divided.

The day wore on; and at one o'clock there was a shout of joy, for a body of cavalry were seen approaching, at a rapid trot, from the town. Soon they rode up, and proved to be a regiment which had been despatched, from the town, for the relief of the stragglers. At daybreak the cavalry, riding in many miles ahead of the infantry, brought the news to the city of the defeat; and something very like a panic at first ensued. It was some time before anything was done to succor the exhausted fugitives, who were pressing forward to the city. But at last a force was sent out with wagons, and bullocks with water-skins; and thus hundreds of lives, which would otherwise have been sacrificed, were saved. The cavalry had come out with full water bottles, and relief was soon afforded to the worn-out rear guard, who at once fell into rank, and resumed their march towards Candahar; the cavalry, who had brought a few light carts with them, pursuing their journey for some distance further, to succor and collect those who had fallen on the road.

The sun was just setting as the rear guard of General Burrows' brigade reached Candahar; after having marched, since the previous morning, sixty miles without food, and with only a few mouthfuls of water; and having fought for nearly twenty-four hours of that time.

Every preparation was made, in the city, for the expected attack. The defenses were strengthened; the lower portion of the populace—who would be likely to declare against them—were turned out of the town; and provisions were collected from the country round. Fortunately, ample time was afforded them for these preparations. Ayoub's army had been, to a great extent, demoralized by the tremendous losses which it had sustained, in the defeat of this handful of British troops; and some days elapsed before it moved forward from Maiwand. Then, by easy marches, it approached Candahar; and took up its position in the plain, to the north of the city.

Just as the rear guard of General Burrows' force were starting from their halting place, for their last march into the city, Will Gale was delighted at seeing Yossouf approaching. He had not seen him since the regiment marched out from Khusk-I-Nakhud. The young Afghan had remained, with the other followers, in the village behind Maiwand during the battle when, while the resistance of the British was still continuing, the Afghans had worked round by the ravines and entered the village.

Yossouf had been obliged to join in the retreat, which was at once commenced by the baggage train. Full of anxiety for the fate of his master, he had hurried forward at his best speed to Candahar; reaching the city only an hour or two after the arrival of the cavalry. In spite of the distance he had already performed, he did not delay for an instant; but set out again with some provisions, and a bottle of wine, and one of water hidden away in his dress. He had resolved to push forward, at all hazards, until he had either joined his master—whether on his retreat, or as a prisoner in Ayoub's army—or had discovered his body on the field of battle, and given him burial.

Passing through the throng of fugitives, and questioning any of the men of the 66th he met, he made his way forward. He had learned that Will's company had withdrawn, in a body, from the battlefield to the village but, further than this, none of the fugitives could tell him; and his delight was exuberant, when he saw Will marching along with his company. The little supply which he had brought was at once served out, among the men who most needed it; and Will—who had been in a state of great uneasiness concerning the safety of his faithful follower—was greatly cheered by finding him alive, and unhurt.

The news of the defeat of Maiwand produced an immense sensation, in India; and measures were at once taken for the relief of Candahar. A strong division was ordered to march from Cabul, through Ghuzni; while General Phayre, who commanded the force at Quettah, was also ordered to advance to the assistance of the garrison.

General Phayre, however—although comparatively close to Candahar—was unable to advance, for some time. The same miserable economy which had dispersed the transport train, after the signature of the Treaty of Gundamuk; and had so delayed the advance of General Roberts towards Cabul, after the massacre of the mission, again paralyzed the action of the British troops—the whole of the transport train, collected at so much cost and difficulty, having been dismissed to their homes, as soon as the negotiations with Abdul-Rahman held out a prospect of peace. Many weeks elapsed before a sufficient number of baggage animals could be collected to enable General Phayre to advance, with his relieving column.

In Candahar, things passed quietly. The enemy, from time to time, fired shot and shell into the city from distant positions but, believing that no relief could reach the garrison before the supplies of food were exhausted, and that it must therefore yield to hunger, Ayoub's army contented themselves by watching the city from a distance; and by keeping a cordon of troops round its walls, to prevent the country people from bringing in provisions.

Detached bodies, indeed, often crept up near the walls; and kept up a musketry fire at any troops showing themselves, there. But no attempts were made to batter down the walls, or to make anything like a resolute assault. Ayoub's army had, indeed, greatly lost heart. If 1500 British soldiers, attacked under circumstances of the greatest disadvantage, had killed 6000 or 7000 of their assailants; what might not be the slaughter which a greatly superior force would inflict, when sheltered behind stone walls?

From one village, situate half a mile from the eastern gate of the city, so constant and harassing a fire was maintained, by the enemy, that General Primrose resolved to make a sortie, to capture it. The affair was, however, badly planned, and resulted in failure. The Afghans—sheltered in the strongly-built houses—kept up so severe a fire upon the assailants that these were obliged to fall back, with a considerable loss. After that, no further sorties were attempted; and the city remained in quiet, until the relieving columns were close at hand.

The force selected to march from Cabul to the relief of Candahar, under the command of General Roberts, consisted of the 92nd Highlanders, 23rd Pioneers, 24th and 25th Punjaub Infantry; the 2nd, 4th, and 5th Ghoorkas; the 72nd Highlanders, 2nd battalion of the 60th, the Norfolk Rangers; the 2rd, 3rd, and 15th Sikhs. There were three batteries of artillery, and four cavalry regiments: the 9th Lancers, the 3rd Bengal Cavalry, the 3rd Punjaub Cavalry, and the Central India Horse. This gave a total of about 10,000 fighting men. There were, in addition, 8000 followers to feed, 7000 horses, and some 8000 transport and artillery mules, and ponies.

The Ameer did his best to assist the force; which was, indeed, going to fight his battle, as well as their own. The question was whether so large a force would be able to subsist on the road and, in order to assist them to do so, he sent orders to all the tribes along the line of march to aid the column, in every way. In consequence, no difficulties were met with; and scarce a shot was fired on the way down.

In seven days after starting Ghuzni was reached, and in fifteen Khelat-I-Ghilzai—where Colonel Tanner, with a small garrison, had been besieged by the local tribes since the advance of Ayoub. Khelat-I-Ghilzai stood near the lower end of the valley down which the column was advancing, and was but three days' march from Candahar. From the day of their leaving Cabul, to their arrival at Khelat-I-Ghilzai, the troops had marched a distance of fifteen miles a day—not an extraordinary distance for a single regiment to perform, but a wonderful feat for a force containing some 18,000 persons and 9000 baggage animals, marching through mountains and valleys.

As the relieving force approached Candahar, Ayoub drew off his troops from around the city; and took up a strong position on some hills, a few miles to the north. On the 27th of August Roberts' cavalry were near enough to establish heliographic communication with the town and, on the 31st, the column entered Candahar.

During the siege, the duties of the garrison had been heavy. A strong force was always held ready to get under arms, instantly, in case of an attack by the enemy. The number of sentries on the walls, magazines, and lower important points was large. The town had to be kept in order, and the inhabitants strictly watched. House-to-house requisitions were made for provisions; and the greatest economy was used in the distribution of these, as the garrison had no means of knowing how long a time might elapse before any could arrive.

The death of ten officers of the 66th—all of senior standing to himself—had placed Will Gale at the top of the list of lieutenants and, as several officers were disabled by wounds, he was now performing captain's duty, and was in charge of a company. There were, indeed, but three companies now in the 66th Regiment; so great having been the loss, that the whole of the survivors now made up but this number.

Among the other duties of the troops was that of protecting the many houses which had been left vacant, by the hasty retirement of many of the native merchants and traders, at the approach of Ayoub's force. Colonel Primrose—anxious to lessen the number of mouths to be fed—encouraged the exodus; promising to take charge of all property left behind. This duty proved a troublesome one, as the lower class—which still remained in the city—were constantly endeavoring to break into, and loot, the houses thus left vacant by their proprietors. In order to protect these as much as possible, many of the officers were directed to move from their quarters in the barracks, and take up their residence in them; an order which was gladly obeyed, as the exchange, from hot confined quarters to the roomy dwellings of the merchants, was a very pleasant one.

Will Gale was one of those who so moved and, with Yossouf and two native followers, had been quartered in the house of a wealthy silk merchant. One night, he was aroused from sleep by Yossouf.

"Sahib!" the latter whispered, "I hear people moving below. I think there are thieves in the house."

Will rose noiselessly, slipped on his trousers and shoes and—taking up a revolver in one hand, and a sword in another—stole downstairs; followed by Yossouf, with his long Afghan knife in his hand. The door of the warehouse was open; and within it Will saw, by the faint light of a lamp which one of them carried, four Afghan ruffians engaged in making up silks into large bundles, in readiness to carry off. His approach was unnoticed; and on reaching the door he leveled his pistol, and shouted to the Afghans to surrender, as his prisoners.

In reply, they dropped the lamp, and made a sudden rush at him. He fired his pistol hastily in the darkness but, in an instant, the Afghans were upon him. The first man he cut down, but he was knocked over by the rush of the others. Two fell upon him; but Yossouf bounded upon them like a tiger, and buried his knife to the hilt in their backs, in quick succession. The last of the party—without staying to see what was the fate of his friends—at once took to his heels and, rushing to the door leading to the street, made his escape.

Yossouf raised Will to his feet,

"Are you hurt?" he asked, anxiously.

"Nothing to speak of," Will replied. "I am a bit shaken, and bruised by the fall. Those fellows, in the darkness, were upon me before I could see them.

"Thanks to you, I have escaped without hurt, Yossouf; and had it not been for your aid, they would assuredly have made an end of me. My pistol had fallen from my hand as they knocked me down and, on the ground, I could not have defended myself with my sword, for an instant. Once more, Yossouf, I owe my life to you."

So many attempts, similar to that made upon the house occupied by Will Gale, took place that sentries were posted, at ten o'clock at night, at the entrances to the various streets in which the houses left deserted by the native traders were situated; and orders were given that no natives should be out of their houses, after that hour, unless provided with a pass signed by the commandant of the city.

Several messengers were from time to time sent out, to endeavor to get through the enemy's, lines and to carry to General Phayre the news of what was going on in the city. A few of these succeeded in getting through, but none returned; so that, until the signal lights were seen flashing from the distant hills, in the direction of Khelat-I-Ghilzai, the garrison were unaware of the steps which were being taken for their rescue. Even had unforeseen obstacles prevented the advent of either of the relieving columns, it is probable that the garrison of Candahar would finally have freed itself. Colonel Primrose had, at his disposal, a force more than double that which had fought at Maiwand; and had the British advanced into the plain, and offered battle to Ayoub on a fair fighting ground they should, without difficulty, have defeated his army; whose long delays and hesitation showed how immensely their morale had been affected by the previous battle.

Thus it was that Sale—after sustaining a long siege in Jellalabad—finally sallied out, and completely defeated the besieging army, before the arrival of the force marching to his relief. The Candahar force was not commanded by a Sale but, had it been given a chance to retrieve Maiwand, there can be little doubt of what the issue would have been. Over and over again, the subject was discussed at the messes of the various regiments; and immense indignation was felt at the force being kept cooped up in Candahar, when the history of India recorded scores of examples of victories won, by British troops, against greater odds than those now opposed to them.

It must be said, however, that the native portion of the army, in Candahar, was of very inferior fighting quality to that which operated in Eastern Afghanistan. Those regiments were, for the most part, either Ghoorkas, Sikhs, or Punjaubees—than whom no braver men exist. The Ghoorkas are small, active men; mountaineers by birth, and to whom war is a passion. The Sikhs and Punjaubees, upon the contrary, are tall, stately men; proud of the historical fighting powers of their race. They had fought with extreme bravery against the English but, once conquered, they became true and faithful subjects of the English crown; and it was their fidelity and bravery which saved England, in the dark days of the mutiny.

The Bombay troops, upon the other hand, were drawn from races which had long ceased to be warlike. They possessed none of the dash and fire of the hardier troops; their organization was—and still is—defective; and the system of officering them was radically bad. The contrast between the two was strongly shown, in the conduct of the Sikh and Ghoorka regiments with General Stewart, when attacked by the sudden rush of the Ghazis, at Ahmed Khil; and that of the Bombay Grenadiers and Jacob's Foot, under precisely similar circumstances at Maiwand.

There is no doubt, however, that the main reason why General Primrose did not sally out and give battle on the plain of Candahar was that, in case of defeat, the populace of the city would assuredly have closed their gates against the army; and that nothing would have remained but a disastrous retreat across the Kojak Pass—a retreat of which very few would ever have survived to tell.

Their enforced idleness, in Candahar, made the time pass slowly and heavily; and it was with the greatest joy that the garrison hailed the entry of the columns of General Roberts.

Upon his arrival the general lost no time in reconnoitering the position of the enemy. It was well chosen for defense His army was encamped behind the range of hills known as the Baba-Wali Hills. A road ran direct over these hills; and here a strong force was stationed, supported by artillery in position. The last hill of the range, on the southwest, was known as the Pir-Paimal Hill; and by turning this the camp of Ayoub's army would be taken in flank, and the defenses in front rendered useless. The reconnaissance which was made by the cavalry; supported by the 15th Sikhs, advanced close to the central hill. The enemy unmasked five guns and opened upon them, and the Afghans poured down to the attack. There was, however, no intention on the part of the British commander of bringing on a battle; and the troops accordingly fell back, in good order, to the main body.

A mile and a half from the city stood a low ridge of rock—called the Picket Hill—in the line by which the column would have to move, to turn the Pir-Paimal Hill; and this was at once seized. A number of Ghazis stationed here fought, as usual, desperately; but the 4th Ghoorkas repulsed their charge, and cleared the ridge of the enemy. The general determined to attack the enemy's position with his whole force, on the following day.



Chapter 21: The Battle Of Candahar.

The plan of action upon which General Roberts determined was simple. The 1st and 2nd brigade were to advance abreast, the 3rd to follow in support. As the 66th were to take no part in the fight, Will Gale obtained leave to ride out with General Weatherby, with the 3rd division.

The enemy were well aware of the weak point of the position which they occupied; and they had mustered thickly in the plain, in which were several villages; with canals cutting up the ground in all directions, and abounding with hedges, ditches, and enclosures—altogether, a very strongly defensible position.

It was at 10 o'clock, on the 1st of September, that the British force advanced. The first division, on the right, advanced against the large walled village of Gundi, which was strongly held by the enemy. Against this General Macpherson sent the 92nd and the 2nd Ghoorkas and, stubbornly as the enemy fought, the place was carried by the bayonet.

On the line taken by the 2nd division—under General Baker—three villages had successively to be carried: Abasabad, Kaghanary, and Gundigan. The 72nd Highlanders and the 2nd Sikhs advanced to the attack of these. The resistance of the Afghans was stubborn in the extreme, but they were driven out. The fighting line of the two divisions kept abreast and, for two miles, had to fight every inch of their way; from wall to wall, from garden to garden and, here and there, from house to house and from lane to lane.

Illustration: Gundi carried by the Bayonet.

Once or twice the attack was checked, for a few minutes, by the desperate resistance of the Afghans—at the crossing places of canals and in walled enclosures—and again and again, the Ghazis rushed down upon the troops. The 3rd Sikhs and the 5th Ghoorkas joined the fighting line and, step by step, the ground was won; until the base of the hill was turned, and the attacking force saw, in front of them, the great camp of Ayoub's troops. Up to this point, the enemy had fought with the greatest bravery; but a sudden panic seized them, now they saw that their line of retreat was threatened by our cavalry—for an Afghan always loses heart, under such circumstances. As if by magic, the defense ceased; and the enemy, horse and foot—abandoning their guns, and throwing away their arms—fled up the Argandab valley. Everything was abandoned.

There was nothing more for the infantry to do but to sack Ayoub's camp, and to park the captive guns, thirty in number. The amount of stores and miscellaneous articles in the camp was enormous: arms, ammunition, commissariat, and ordnance stores; helmets, bullock huts crammed with native wearing apparel, writing materials, Korans, English tinned meats, fruit, and money. Here, in fact, was all the baggage which the army had brought from Herat; together with all the spoil which they had captured at Maiwand.

The cavalry took up the pursuit. Unfortunately they had met with great difficulties, in advancing through the broken country in rear of the infantry. Had they been close at hand, when the latter fought their way into Ayoub's camp, very few of the fugitives would have escaped. As it was, they did good service in following up the rout; and driving the enemy, a dispersed and broken crowd, into the hills.

To the fury of the men they found, in Ayoub's camp, the body of Lieutenant Maclaine; who had been taken prisoner at Maiwand, and who was barbarously murdered, a few minutes before the arrival of the English troops. The battle cost the lives of three officers: Lieutenant Colonel Brownlow, commanding the 72nd Highlanders; Captain Frome, of the same regiment; and Captain Straton, 2nd battalion of the 22nd. Eleven officers were wounded, 46 men were killed, and 202 wounded.

The enemy left 1200 dead on the field. Ayoub's regular regiments scarcely fired a shot, and the British advance had been opposed entirely by the irregulars and Ghazis; the regular regiments having been drawn up behind the Pir-Paimal Pass, by which they expected our main attack to be made—a delusion which was kept up by our heavy fire, from early morning, upon the Afghan guns on the summit of the pass. When our troops appeared round the corner of the spur upon their flank they lost heart at once; and for the most part, throwing away their arms, joined the body of fugitives.

"It would have been hard work, sir," Will Gale said to Colonel Ripon, as they rode forward in rear of the fighting brigade, "to have taken this position with the Candahar force, alone."

"It could not have been done," Colonel Ripon replied, "but no one would have dreamed of attempting it. The Afghans say that the force which Roberts brought down, from Cabul, was so large that they stood on the defensive; but they would have ventured to attack us, had we sallied out and offered battle on the level plain, round the city. Then, I have no doubt we could have beaten them.

"However, all is well that ends well. Roberts has come up in time, and has completely defeated the enemy; still, it would have been more satisfactory had we retrieved Maiwand, by thrashing him single-handed.

"Well, I suppose this is the end of the Afghan war. We have beaten Ayoub: I hope, so effectually that Abdul-Rahman will have no difficulty in dealing with him, in future and, if he really means the professions of friendship which he has made us, we may hope for peace, for some time. Probably the next time we have to fight, in this country, it will be against the Russians and Afghans, united.

"There are men in England who persist in shutting their eyes to the certain consequences of the Russian advance towards the northern frontier of Afghanistan; but the time will come when England will have to rue, bitterly, the infatuation and folly of her rulers. When that day arrives, she will have to make such an effort, to hold her own, as she has never had to do since the days when she stood, alone, in arms against Europe."

Upon the following day, Will paid a visit to his friends in the Rangers.

"So you got through Maiwand safely!" the colonel said. "Upon my word, I begin to think that you have a charmed life.

"I hear one of your captains died, last night. That gives you your step, does it not?"

"Yes, sir."

"You are the luckiest young dog I ever heard of. You got your commission, within a year of enlisting; and now, by an extraordinary fatality, your regiment is almost annihilated; and you mount up, by death steps, to a captain's rank, nine months after the date of your gazette. In any other regiment in the service, you would have been lucky if you had got three or four steps, by this time."

"I am fortunate, indeed, sir," Will said. "I can scarcely believe it, myself."

"Ah! whom do I see here?" the colonel exclaimed, as a mounted officer rode through the camp. "My old friend, Ripon!

"Ah Ripon, how are you?"

The colonel reined in his horse; and the two officers, who had not met for some years, entered into a warm conversation; while Will strolled away to talk to some of the younger officers, who congratulated him most heartily on the luck which had, in a few months, taken him over their heads.

In the afternoon Will received a note from Colonel Ripon, asking him to dine with him, as Colonel Shepherd was going to do so. Will replied that he would gladly dine, but must be excused for a time, afterwards; as he was on duty, and would have to go the rounds, in the evening.

There were three or four other officers at dinner, as Colonel Ripon had many friends in the relieving column. When dinner was over, Will made his excuses and left; promising to look in again, in a couple of hours, when he had finished his rounds. Soon afterwards, the other young officers left. Colonel Shepherd, only, remained.

"That is a singularly fine young fellow—young Gale, I mean," Colonel Shepherd said; "and a singularly fortunate one. I feel quite proud of him. It was upon my advice that he enlisted; but if any one had told me, at the time, that he would be a captain in two years, I should have said that it was absolutely impossible."

"Yes," Colonel Ripon replied, "his luck has been marvelous; but if ever a fellow deserved it, he did. I have a very warm liking—I may say an affection—for him. He saved my life, when I was attacked by some Ghazis here, and must have been killed, had it not been for his promptness, and coolness. He was wounded, too; and we were nursed together, here. Since then I have seen a great deal of him and, the more I see him, the more I like him.

"Do you know anything of him, previous to the time of his enlisting? You told me he joined your regiment, on the day when it arrived at Calcutta. I know nothing of his history, before that. The subject never happened to occur, in conversation; and it was one upon which I naturally should have felt a delicacy in asking any questions—though I have sometimes wondered, in my own mind, how he came to be penniless in Calcutta; as I suppose he must have been, to have enlisted. Did you happen to hear anything about it?"

"Yes, indeed," Colonel Shepherd answered. "Curiously enough, he was by no means penniless; as he had just received 100 pounds reward, for the services he had rendered in preventing a ship from being captured, by the Malays. I happened to meet its captain on shore, the day I landed; and heard from him the story of the affair—which was as follows, as nearly as I can recollect."

Colonel Shepherd then related, to his friend, the story of the manner in which the brig—when chased by Malays—was saved, by being brought into the reef, by Will.

"Naturally," he went on, "I was greatly interested in the story and—expressing a wish to see the young fellow—he was brought off that evening, after mess, to the Euphrates; and told us how he had been wrecked on the island in a Dutch ship, from which only he, and a companion, were saved. I was so struck with his conduct—and, I may say, by his appearance and manner—that I took him aside into my own cabin, and learned from him the full particulars of his story. I don't think anyone else knows it for, when he expressed his willingness to take my advice, and enlist, I told him that he had better say nothing about his past. His manner was so good that I thought he would pass well, as some gentleman's son who had got into a scrape and, as I hoped that the time might come when he might step upwards, it was perhaps better that it should not be known what was his origin."

"But what was his origin, Shepherd? I confess you surprise me, for I have always had an idea that he was a man of good family; although in some strange way his education had been neglected for, in fact, he told me one day that he was absolutely ignorant of Latin."

"Well, Ripon, as you are a friend of the young fellow, and I know it will go no further, I will tell you the facts of the case. He was brought up in a workhouse, was apprenticed to a Yarmouth smack man and—the boat being run down in a gale by a Dutch troopship, to which he managed to cling, as the smack sank—he was carried in her to Java. On her voyage thence, to China, he was wrecked on the island I spoke of."

"You astound me," Colonel Ripon said, "absolutely astound me. I could have sworn that he was a gentleman by birth. Not, mind you, that I like or esteem him one iota the less, for what you tell me. Indeed, on the contrary; for there is all the more merit in his having made his way, alone. Still, you astonish me.

"They tell me," he said, with a smile, "that he is wonderfully like me but, strangely enough, he reminds me rather of my wife. You remember her, Shepherd? For you were stationed at Meerut, at the time I married her there."

Colonel Shepherd nodded and, for a few minutes, the two friends sat silent; thinking over the memories which the words had evoked.

"Strange, is it not," Colonel Ripon went on, arousing himself, "that the child of some pauper parents should have a resemblance, however distant, to me and my wife?"

"Curiously enough," Colonel Shepherd said, "the boy was not born of pauper parents. He was left at the door of the workhouse, at Ely, by a tramp; whose body was found, next morning, in one of the ditches. It was a stormy night; and she had, no doubt, lost her way after leaving the child. That was why they called him William Gale.

"Why, what is the matter, Ripon? Good heavens, are you ill?"

Colonel Shepherd's surprise was natural. The old officer sat rigid in his chair, with his eyes open and staring at his friend; and yet, apparently, without seeing him. The color in his face had faded away and, even through the deep bronze of the Indian sun, its pallor was visible.

Colonel Shepherd rose in great alarm, and was about to call for assistance when his friend, with a slight motion of his hand, motioned to him to abstain.

"How old is he?" came presently, in a strange tone, from his lips.

"How old is who?" Colonel Shepherd asked, in surprise. "Oh, you mean Gale! He is not nineteen yet, though he looks four or five years older. He was under seventeen, when he enlisted; and I rather strained a point to get him in, by hinting that, when he was asked his age, he had better say under nineteen. So he was entered as eighteen, but I know he was more than a year younger than that.