I started off about 9 A.M. on the morning of the 12th April, mounted on a transport pony. I had about fifty Hunza and Punyal Levies, under Humayun and Akbar Khan, with me; these two also had ponies, Akbar Khan having managed to get two over the pass with great difficulty. It was a lovely morning, and we were all very cheerful except Gammer Sing, who wanted to come along with me; but as he had to get my kit sorted and put right for the next day's march, I left him behind, but took his rifle and ammunition.

We dropped over the bluff and forded the Laspur stream, which was hardly over the men's knees, and then kept along the bed of the river, with a few scouts well up the hills on our left, the Mastuj or Yarkhun river protecting our right. After about two miles we came to a small homestead and Humayun told me there was a wounded man inside; so in I went, and found the poor beggar with his right leg smashed by a bullet just above the knee. There were a lot of women and children and two men in the house, his brothers, so I gave them a note to Luard, and told them to carry the man into Mastuj, which they did. Luard set his leg, and by this time he is no doubt well and happy.

Shortly after that, we climbed up from the bed of the river on to a narrow ledge which ran along the foot of the hills about two hundred feet above the river. Here we left our horses, and went scrambling along among the fallen debris for about half a mile, when we came to the foot of a stone slope, and I noticed our advanced guard had halted on the top, and on asking the reason, Humayun said that the enemy were occupying the next spurs. So up we went, and found the fact true enough, but the next spur was some thousand yards away; so on we went across that slope, and on to the next, eventually reaching a very nice little place some eight hundred yards from the spur occupied by the enemy.

From here I could see pretty well the whole of the position occupied by the enemy, except the end of the Nisa Gol nullah where it debouches on to the river. I tried going up the hill, but that only made matters worse, so I determined to sketch what I could see from here, and then try across the river. In order not to be interrupted, I sent five men well up the hill on to a spur, from whence they could see any man who tried to sneak up for a shot, and spread out the rest in skirmishing order to my front. Humayun and Akbar got behind a rock and went to sleep, and I got out my telescope and set to work.

The enemy seemed rather interested in our proceedings—we could see their heads bobbing up and down behind the sangars; but after we had settled down, they gradually took courage, and, coming outside, sat down to watch us. This was very nice of them, for very soon I had a complete list of the garrison of each sangar, and from where I was could see the sort of gun they were armed with,—a few rifles among the lower sangars, and nearly all matchlocks among the higher and more inaccessible ones. It was a calm, peaceful scene: the enemy sitting outside their sangars sunning themselves; and my men lying down, a few watching, the rest sleeping, one or two enjoying a friendly pipe.

Shortly after, we saw two gallant young sparks come riding along the plain on the opposite side of the river, evidently having been sent by the general to report on our proceedings. They pulled up opposite us and watched us for a short time, and then one slipped off his horse, which was led by the other behind a big boulder. Thinking they would merely watch us, I shouted to my men to keep an eye on them, and went on sketching. Presently there was a bang, and ping came a bullet over our heads. The beggar was potting at us at about a thousand yards, unpardonable waste of ammunition! I put a rock between us, and went on sketching, everyone else did ditto, and presently our friend shut up, but after a time, finding things slow, I suppose, he began again. This seemed to annoy Humayun, who asked for the loan of my rifle, and he and Akbar went dodging down the hill. They disappeared behind a dip in the ground, and presently I saw them come out lower down among some bushes, and gradually they worked their way down to the edge of the river about eight hundred yards from our friend, who was calmly sitting in the open, having occasional pot shots at us, while his friend had come out and was evidently criticising the performance.

Presently there was a bang from our side of the river, and a spurt of dust on the opposite maidan where the bullet struck. Humayun had over-judged the distance. By the time he was ready for another shot, our two friends were legging it across the plain as fast as their ponies could gallop. He got in a couple of shots more, but they did not hurt anybody.

As soon as Humayun commenced firing, the sangars in our front began humming like a beehive and presently shot after shot came dropping among us; the enemy evidently had plenty of ammunition, and for some minutes things were quite lively; but, finding we made no response, they calmed down gradually, and peace once more reigned supreme.

I chaffed old Humayun, when he came back, on his shooting powers, and he grinned in response.

I now noticed rather a commotion among the garrison of the sangars across the Nisa Gol nullah; the men began turning out, and one or two ran towards the higher sangars, evidently passing on some news. Presently I saw a crowd of men, mostly mounted, with others on foot carrying flags. Then came a fat man in white, with a standard-bearer all to himself. All the garrisons of the sangars turned out, and I counted them—there were over a hundred in each.

The commander-in-chief rode up the whole length of the nullah, and then walked up the spur on which are shown sangars Nos. 16 and 17 in the sketch. Here he sat down, and, I have no doubt, calculated the odds on his winning when the action came off. After a time he came down the hill, and the procession moved down along the nullah and out of sight.

When I had finished my sketch, I shut up my telescope and said—

"Now we'll go across the river."

"Why do you want to cross the river?" said Humayun.

"I want to see the end of the nullah," said I.

"Their cavalry will get you," said he.

"What cavalry?" said I.

"You've just seen two of them," said he.

"Get out!" said I; "you're pulling my leg."

"Don't go," said he.

"I'm going," said I.

"Where the Sahib goes, I follow," said he.

"Come on, Ruth," said I. "'Whither thou goest, I will go!' I've heard that remark before."

These hillmen have an extraordinarily exaggerated idea of cavalry. Any young buck on a long-tailed screw is a Chevalier Bayard to them. Why, you've only to move ten yards to your right or left in any part of the country, and no cavalry could reach you, while you could sit and chuck stones at them.

Down we dropped again into the river bed, leaving a few men to signal any movement of the enemy while we were crossing. We had our ponies brought up and rode across the stream, the men fording, then we scrambled up the high slope of the opposite bank and shouted for the remainder to follow.

A short distance up the hill, and I could see the end of the nullah, with a large sangar covering the road. This was what I wished to know, so, after a careful look, having seen all I wanted, we started homewards by the opposite bank to that by which we had come, crossing the river again by a bridge which Oldham had been employed the day before in mending, and reached Mastuj by 1 P.M.

I gave in my report to Colonel Kelly, and then got out orders for the next day's march.

I also suggested that some light scaling ladders should be made, as I expected we should find them very useful in crossing the Nisa Gol. Accordingly, Oldham set his Sappers to work, and by evening had ten light scaling ladders ready, each about ten feet long, and light enough to be carried by one man.

A certain amount of supplies and some coolies had been collected. The guns had been mounted on ponies, and could now march along faster than when carried by coolies.

Everything was ready for an early advance the next morning, so as a little diversion we were photographed by Moberly. Moberly was coming out the next day in command of a company of Kashmir troops; after the expected fight, he would return to Mastuj to resume command, and the Kashmir troops would be put under my charge.

The orders for next day were to march at 7 A.M., baggage to remain in Mastuj till sent for, and then to come out under escort of part of the garrison, who would escort back any wounded we might have, Luard coming out in charge of the field hospital and returning with the wounded to form a base hospital at Mastuj.

I managed to get a bottle of whiskey out of Moberly. It belonged, I believe, to Fowler, but as he was either a prisoner or dead, he wouldn't require the whiskey. I also replenished my store of chocolate.



CHAPTER VII

THE FIGHT AT NISA GOL

Next morning, 13th April, we were all having a good square breakfast by 6 A.M., and punctually at seven o'clock the column moved off, headed by the Levies.

Our force consisted of—

400 Pioneers, 100 Kashmir Infantry, 40 Kashmir Sappers, 2 Mountain guns, 100 Hunza and Punyal Levies;

rather less than a single battalion, and not much with which to force our way through seventy miles of bad country, but still we were determined to get to Chitral before the Peshawur force.

It was a perfect morning, nice bright sunshine, and a jolly fresh feeling in the air, sort of day that makes you want to take a gun and go shooting; in fact, just the very day for a fight.

The Levies were across Oldham's bridge in no time, but the Pioneers had to cross it slowly, as it was very jumpy, and only four men could be allowed on it at a time. The guns were sent up to a ford some three hundred yards up the stream. After crossing the main stream there was still a creek to be forded, but this was not much above the men's knees. This gave the Levies time to get ahead and send some scouts up the hills to the right, in order to give timely warning if the enemy should try on the rolling stone dodge, but the hills just here did not lend themselves very readily to this mode of warfare. When our little army got across the river, the advance guard was halted and the column formed up, and then on we went. Peterson was in command of the advance guard, with orders to halt when he reached the edge of the plain to allow the column to close up for the attack. On the order to advance he was to hug the hill on his right.

Just before the maidan the road drops down on to the river bed, and then runs up on to the maidan itself, which gradually slopes up to the centre, where it is divided by a deep nullah that I think they call in America a canon. The sides of this nullah are in most places perpendicular, varying from two hundred and fifty to three hundred feet in depth, with a small stream running along the bottom, the amount of water depending on the melting of the snow in the hills above. There are two places to cross it, one the regular road to Chitral, which zig-zags down the nullah near the mouth, and the other a goat track about half-way between the road and the hills. Both of these had sangars covering their approach on the enemy's side of the nullah, and any attempt to rush them would have led to great loss of life.

To the casual observer the plain looks perfectly flat, but as a matter of fact the slope is rather more pronounced at the foot than at the top near the hills, with the result that from the sangar covering the main road, the upper end of the plain is partially hidden from fire.

The plain also is really a succession of what may be described as waves running parallel with the nullah, which afford very excellent shelter to any attacking force. In fact, the only obstacle is the nullah; but, as you may see from the photos, this obstacle is no small one, and could only be crossed by two paths as far as we knew. Our object was to find another path, and to get to close quarters with the enemy.



So much for the ground: now for the fight. Peterson and the Levies got on to the maidan and extended, while the main body formed up for attack. Then the order to advance was given, and off we went.

Peterson and the Levies were in the firing line and extended, the Levies on the right.

As the remaining companies reached the level plain, they first formed into line and went forward in the regular everyday style. The ground was very nice for parade movements, a gentle, grassy slope with plenty of room. The Levies, however, were not keeping close enough to the hillside, and were gradually pushing Peterson's company off to the left, where they would have been exposed to the fire of the big sangar plus the flanking fire from the sangars up the spur on the left bank of the river.

Colonel Kelly accordingly sent me off to change their direction more to the right, and to close the Levies until they were wanted. I found Humayun's pony taking shelter under a rock, so, mounting it, I galloped after Peterson, gave him the order, and then closed the Levies on their right. This made a gap into which we of the supporting companies pushed, so now we had two companies in the firing line, two in support, and the Kashmir Company in reserve. In this formation we pushed on till we came under fire of the sangars, and had reached the valley running up into the hills, about four hundred yards from the nullah, thus again giving room for the Levies to form line on the right of the Pioneers.

The fun now began as the enemy started plugging away at us from the sangars on the spur, but not much at present from the lower ones, as only the flank of Peterson's company could be seen.

Stewart had got his guns into action and was shelling sangar No. 16. After a time Peterson engaged the sangars on the maidan, and they gave him a pretty warm time of it.

The Levies opened fire at three hundred yards, rather close range to begin an action, and it was very amusing watching them; their instruction in volley-firing had only just been begun, but they had entire faith in its efficiency.

The section commanders used to give the word to load in their own language, but the order to fire was "fira vollee," and they were supposed to fire on the word "vollee." If any man fired before the order,—and they frequently did,—the section commander used to rush at the culprit and slap him severely on the nearest part of him. As the Levies were lying down, the slaps were—on the usual place.

After a time the fire from the sangar slackened, and as things seemed to be going all right, I stopped the Levies firing, and, taking two of them, went forward up to the edge of the nullah to see if there was any sign of a road. We followed the edge upwards for some two hundred yards, and then I told the two levies to go on until they found a place, and then went back.

The fire from the sangar had recommenced, as Stewart's attention had been turned towards others, so Colonel Kelly sent orders to Stewart to send in one or two more shells, which had the desired effect.

I now sent Gammer Sing to get a fresh supply of ammunition for the Levies, which he brought, and I then followed Colonel Kelly down the line to the Pioneers. In the meantime the guns had changed their position, and were engaged with the lower sangars, as was also Peterson, who, I think, was under the hottest fire the whole time, as he had the attention of two big sangars entirely paid to him. The guns also got hit a bit, and among others two of the drivers were killed; they were the owners of the gun ponies, and remained with the ponies under a guard of four Kashmir sepoys, who had commands to shoot any man trying to bolt. They and their ponies of course made a large target, but the ponies also acted as a protection. One more of the Pioneer companies now came into the firing line, and these three companies devoted their entire attention to one sangar, whose fire was now very intermittent.

I now got Colonel Kelly's leave to go and look for a path, and hailed Oldham to come and help me work forward therefore in front of the firing line, to do which we had to ask Borradaile to stop one company firing, which he very kindly did. We struck the nullah close opposite the empty sangar No. 15, and from there followed the edge till we were well within sight of the sangars in the middle of the maidan, without having found a place where we could get down, but we noticed a track which led up the opposite bank. We therefore turned back and retraced our steps till we came to a spot which we had examined before, but had thought impossible. Where we stood the drop was sheer for some seventy feet, but then there came a ledge, from which we thought we could scramble down on to the bed of the stream and up the opposite side, where we had noticed the track. We therefore hurried back; Oldham for his Sappers, and I to report to Colonel Kelly. I likewise asked for the reserve company of Kashmir troops to cross over as soon as a path could be made under cover of the fire of the already extended companies of the Pioneers. Colonel Kelly assented, and I sent off a note to Moberly to bring up his company. When I got back to the nullah, I found the Pioneers extended along the edge, and Oldham's Sappers already at work.



The Levies in the meantime had heard of a path higher up in the hills, and were sent off to cross as best they could. Having nothing more to do, I sat down where Oldham's men were at work, and watched the proceedings. The men in No. 16 sangar had evidently had enough of it, their sangar having been pretty well knocked about their ears, and when any of the survivors tried a shot, it called down a volley on him. Presently they began to bolt, and then the laugh was on our side.

That sangar was a death-trap to its garrison—their only line of escape was across some open, shaley slopes within four hundred yards of our firing line, and the Levies were now working along the hill, and would catch them in the sangar if they didn't clear out. The result was like rabbit shooting You'd see a man jump from the sangar and bolt across the shale slope, slipping and scrambling as he went; then there would be a volley, and you'd see the dust fly all round him—perhaps he'd drop, perhaps he wouldn't; then there would be another volley, and you'd see him chuck forward amid a laugh from the sepoys, and he'd roll over and over till he'd fetch up against a rock and lie still. Sometimes two or three would bolt at once; one or two would drop at each volley, and go rolling, limp and shapeless down the slope, until they were all down, and there would be a wait for the next lot. An old sepoy lying near me declared as each man dropped that it was his particular rifle whose aim had been so accurate, until Borradaile called him sharply to order, and told him to attend to business. Presently a crowd of men appeared higher up on the same spur, and someone called out that they were Levies. Just then one of them dropped on his knee and fired in our direction, there was a volley back, and the men disappeared again.

Oldham had now managed, with ropes and the scaling ladders, to get down on to the ledge below, so calling to Moberly to bring along his company, I dived down, followed by Gammer Sing and then Moberly, and one or two men of the Sappers followed him, and we, thinking the whole company was coming, went scrambling down to the bottom. We slid down the ropes on to the ladders, and from them on to the ledge, followed it a bit along the cliff, and then down a shale and debris slope to the stream, across that and up the other side. Scrambling on all fours up the opposite side, I heard Oldham, who was ahead of me, shout back that the company wasn't following. I yelled, "Run up a sangar, and we can hold on till they come," and finished my scramble up to the top.

Then we took a look round to see how things stood.

Devil a sign of the company coming down the rope was there, and the Pioneers seemed to have disappeared too.

Then we numbered our party—three British officers, my orderly, and eleven Sappers, the latter armed with Snider carbines only; my orderly was the only one with a bayonet. There was a low ridge in front of us hiding the enemy's sangars, so we lined this with the Sappers, till we could see what the game was. We now saw the Pioneers moving down the nullah towards the river, while at the same time the Levies showed on the ridge and took possession of the sangar. We were all right, I saw, so I gave the order to advance—keeping along the edge of the nullah so as to get at the sangars. Of course just my luck that as we started to advance, the buckle of my chuplie broke; there was no time to mend it, so I shoved it into my haversack, and went along with one bare foot; luckily the ground was not very stony.

As soon as we topped the swell of the ground, we saw the enemy bolting in twos and threes from the nearest sangar, now about two hundred yards off, and presently there came a rush right across our front. We opened fire, trying volleys at first, but the Sappers were useless at that, never having had any training, so independent firing was ordered. During the halt Moberly had a narrow shave, a bullet passing between his left hand and thigh, as he was standing superintending the firing. His hand was almost touching his thigh, and the bullet raised the skin of the palm just below the little finger.

The nearest sangar was now pretty well empty, and the Pioneers from the other side of the nullah were firing obliquely across our front, rather too close to be pleasant; so we altered our advance half right, so as to cut into the line of retreat of the enemy, and made for a jumble of stones out in the open; by the time we reached it, there was a stream of men flying right across our front, horse and foot, at about five hundred yards, so again we opened fire. Moberly and I both took carbines from the men, as they were firing wildly; the sepoy whose carbine I took invariably managed to jam the cartridge, partly his fault, and partly the fault of the worn state of the extractor. Gammer Sing was plugging in bullets quietly on my right, and gave me the distance as five hundred yards. I knew he was pretty correct, as I watched his bullets pitch. I sang out the distance, and we got merrily to work. Oh, if I had only had a company of my regiment, I think even Stewart would have been satisfied. Precious soon the rush had passed us, and we had to begin putting up our sights, and of course then the cream of the business was over.

About this time Shah Mirza came along, and, seeing me with only one chuplie, offered me his, which I accepted, as it was a matter of indifference to him whether he went barefooted or not. I sent him off to bring up the Levies, who were looting the arms and securing the prisoners from the sangars.

Cobbe now appeared with some few Pioneers, and shortly after, a whole company, but the enemy were now quite out of sight; however, a company was sent in pursuit. Colonel Kelly came up, and we congratulated him, and there was a general demand for cigarettes, Moberly, I believe, being the happy possessor of some. As we were grouped round Colonel Kelly, "whit" came a bullet over us, some idiot up the hill leaving his P.P.C. card, I presume.

One of the first questions I asked was, what had become of the Kashmir Company, and then first heard the following curious incident.

It appears that after the first few of us had gone down the cliff, and the rest were preparing to follow, a bullet struck some cakes of gun-cotton lying on the ground by the head of the path, where they had been placed while the Sappers were at work. The bullet, striking these cakes, ignited them, and they blazed up, and Borradaile, fearing an explosion, ordered a retirement of those troops nearest it to cover some thirty yards in rear, where they were protected by a wave of the ground. The enemy, seeing our men bolting, as they thought, rushed out of their sangars, but were promptly fired into by the Pioneers. Just then the Levies on the ridge and our small party showed across the nullah, threatening their line of retreat; this was apparently more than they had bargained for, so they began to bolt, as I have said. Then the Pioneers moved down the nullah and crossed by the goat track.

Peterson's company had found a box full of Snider ammunition in one of the sangars, so the Kashmir Company was sent back to look for any more, and also to demolish the sangars. I took the opportunity to have a look at them too. I was surprised at the magnificent way in which they were built, partly sunk into the ground, and made of huge boulders that required many men to move, and with head cover constructed of logs in the most approved fashion, evidently made by men who had been properly instructed. As I neared the largest sangar, I saw a native clothed in a red dressing-gown, sitting on the ground with a long native jezail. Rather surprised at seeing one of the enemy thus armed, I went up to him, and as I did so, he picked up his gun. I had my revolver on him in a second, and told him to drop the gun, which he did. I then asked him who he was, and found he was our long-lost child—I mean levy—who had been captured at Laspur. The enemy had not treated him badly, but had taken his carbine and his choga, hence the dressing-gown; in return he had sneaked a gun when the enemy were flying. I set the Kashmir troops to work, and then went back, meeting Humayun and his captives on the way.

"Humayun," I said, "your levy is over there."

"Is he alive?" said Humayun, looking in a most bloodthirsty way at his prisoners.

I assured him he was. Thereupon Humayun gave a jump, caught hold of both my hands, and kissed them violently. I was afraid he was going to kiss my ruby lips, but he didn't. He and Akbar Khan then went scuttling across country to the sangar, followed by a crowd of his men, whooping and yelling with joy.

The guns were now coming across the nullah, and the column was being formed up with the intention of crossing the river to Sanoghar, where it was proposed to camp for the night. Part of the Levies and a company of the Pioneers were sent ahead to clear the village of any evilly disposed persons; arrangements were made for bringing up the sick and wounded; and a signal message was flashed back to Mastuj for the baggage to come out.

The fight was over by 12.30 P.M., so we had only been about two hours from start to finish. Our losses were six killed and sixteen wounded, two of whom died next day. Three of the battery ponies were also killed.

The path down to the river was so steep and the rickety bridge over it so unsafe that it was determined to camp on the side of the river on which we were, especially as we should have to recross the next day.

A camping ground was soon found, pickets thrown out, and the wounded brought in.

A deputation from Sanoghar village was now seen coming across from the opposite bank. Most of the deputation on arrival seemed half naked; we thought this was a sign of humility on their part, but I heard afterwards that the Levies had come across them, and taken their chogas in exchange for that of their man in the red dressing-gown.

This deputation gave the usual yarn about being compelled to fight against us, and how glad they were that we had won.

We made our usual reply, that they could and must show their gladness by providing coolies and supplies, all of which would be paid for. We also made them send over charpoys (beds) for the wounded.

We had taken some twelve prisoners, who came in useful as transport; in fact, until we got to Chitral every man we caught was turned into a beast of burden and given a load; and if he was an Adamzada, or nobleman, he was given the heaviest load that we could find for him, oftentimes much to the delight of the poorer coolies, as an Adamzada is exempt from coolie labour in ordinary times.

The coolies used to bolt at every opportunity, which was only natural, and there was not much difficulty in doing so. As often as not, we got into camp after dark, when the coolie simply put down his load and walked off; but as our supplies diminished, we naturally required fewer coolies—at any rate, we managed to get all our baggage into Chitral.

Moberly now handed over the company of Kashmir troops to my tender charge and departed back to Mastuj, so now I had the command of the Levies and one company added to my numerous other duties, so generally I was pretty well on the hop.

By dark the baggage had come in, the dead either buried or burnt according to their religion, and the wounded attended to and made as comfortable as we could make them under the circumstances.

Oldham and some fifty Levies who had been reconnoitring down the left bank of the river had returned, and by nine we got some dinner.

Just as we were turning in, the picket on the road over the nullah first let drive a volley, and Oldham, who was on duty, took some men and doubled out to see what was the matter. On his return, he reported the picket had heard someone moving in the nullah, and as the sentry's challenge had not been answered, they had let drive at it.



CHAPTER VIII

THE MARCH RESUMED THROUGH KILLA DRASAN

We were up by daylight the next morning, had breakfast, and were ready to march by 7 A.M. The wounded were sent back under Luard and the escort who had brought out the baggage, and we moved off in the opposite direction. Our order of march was always the same, each company taking it in turn to act as advance or rear guard, and every British officer, with the exception of Colonel Kelly and Borradaile, taking his turn on duty.

When my company of Kashmir troops was on rear or advance guard, I went with it; at other times I went with the Levies or Colonel Kelly, whichever seemed most useful.

Our march for this day led for some miles along a flat, grassy plain, a continuation of the Nisa Gol Maidan, then up and over a fairly high spur, and gradually down to the river bed opposite the village of Awi or Avi. Here we had a halt for the men to drink, as it was pretty thirsty work marching in these hot valleys. We passed a village or two on the opposite bank, but our side of the river was a desert of rocks and stones. There was a small bridge at Awi, so Cobbe, with fifty men and Shah Mirza as interpreter, was sent across to collect supplies from Buni, the village in which Jones had remained for a week after the Koragh affair. The main body continued along the right bank parallel with Cobbe's party.

During our halt two men had come in, bringing two ponies, which were much appreciated by Colonel Kelly and Borradaile.

When we got opposite Buni, there was a halt at the head of the column, and Colonel Kelly sent me on to find out the reason.

I forgot to mention that when we were encamped at Sanoghar, a man—Chitrali—had come in, having escaped from the enemy. His brothers were followers of Suji-ul-mulk, the little boy whom Surgeon-Major Robertson, as he then was, had made Mehter, and who was besieged in Chitral with our troops. The opposition party, represented by Mahomed Issar, Sher Afzul's foster-brother, had therefore, on capturing this man, put him in quod at Killa Drasan. He had managed to escape the day of the fight, and joined us that evening, and we promptly made use of him as a guide.

This guide now informed us that the road ahead was destroyed, and would take two days to repair, but, by turning up a spur on the right, we could get past the broken part of the road.

In consequence of this there was a halt while the Levies ascended the spur and reconnoitred the top, and very soon we saw them signalling back that all was clear. Sending back the news to Colonel Kelly, I remained with the Levies, who now turned sharp to the right and began the ascent. Humayun offered me a pony, which I thankfully accepted, and noticed that there were now two or three ponies where before there had been none. I didn't say anything at the time, but shortly after there appeared an order to say all captured ponies were to be given up to the Commissariat after the battery had had first pick. It was an awful pull up that spur. I suppose we went up at least two thousand feet. I was all right, as I had a pony, but it must have been agony for the laden coolies. Once up, the going was easy enough; open, grassy downs, gradually sloping down from where we stood to the junction of the Yarkhun and Turikho valleys, though the actual sides of the tableland dropped steeply down to the rivers. By our present divergence we had turned the flank of any position the enemy could take up between Mastuj and Killa Drasan, and had also got the higher ground, our road from here onwards being down hill.

I went ahead now with the Levies, as I wanted to find out if the fort was held at Drasan.

We got to the edge of the downs by 2 P.M., looking straight down on the fort, which was the other side of the river, but from our position we could see right down into the interior.

The place was evidently deserted, for as we were watching, I saw a man go up and try the door, but, finding it closed, he went away again. The villages all round seemed deserted, and I could only see two men driving some cattle high up in the hills.

Before I had finished my sketch, the advance guard came up, and, shortly after, Colonel Kelly. There was a short halt to let the tail of the column close up, and then we commenced the descent. We were down on the river bank in twenty minutes, and the Levies waded across, I on my pony. We found the remains of a bridge which had evidently only just been destroyed, and the material, I fancy, thrown into the river. The Levies were soon up to the fort, and we had the main gate down in a jiffy by using a tree as a battering-ram, and then the Levies went through the place like professional burglars. Before I had hardly got into the courtyard they had found the grain store, and were looting it. I put Gammer Sing on sentry duty over the entrance, and, Borradaile coming up, we inspected it, and found enough grain to last us some months. We now set the Levies to work to get beams for repairing the bridge; at first we could not find any long enough, until the Levies noticed the roof poles of the verandah. We had them out and ran them down to the river bank, opposite to where the Pioneers had drawn up on the farther bank.

It took some time to build the bridge, and it was pretty rickety when done, but it saved the men having to ford. Only one man fell into the river, but he was pulled out all right. The baggage did not arrive at the bridge till dark, and most of the coolies waded across, as there was not time for them to cross in single file on the bridge. The battery also forded, but the donkeys had to be unladen and the loads carried across by hand, and the donkeys were then driven in and made to swim. It was night before the rearguard began to cross, Cobbe, who was in command, not getting in till close on nine o'clock. A couple of shots were fired after dark, and there seemed no satisfactory explanation as to why they were fired, but nobody was hit. The coolies were all put into the courtyard of the fort and a guard on the gate, and they soon had fires going, round which they huddled.

As it was impossible to carry away all the grain we had found, I got permission to issue a ration to all the coolies, who had most of them no supplies of any description, and, telling the guard who had replaced Gammer Sing to let the coolies in in single file, I then sent some Levies to drive them up like sheep. The news soon spread that food was going cheap, and they didn't require much driving. The flour was in a bin about six feet square, by four feet high, and only a small round hole at the top. We soon enlarged that so that a man could get in. I furnished him with a wooden shovel evidently meant for the job, and gave the order for the men to file in. As each man came in he received a shovelful, into his skirt tail, and then had to march round a box and out of the door. It took some two hours to finish the job, and even then the flour was not expended, while the grain, of which there was some in more bins, had not been touched. I left the guard over the door, and got back in time to get orders out for the next day's march, by which time Cobbe and the rearguard had come in, dinner was ready, and it had begun to rain.

We were camped in front of the fort, the men in a field, ourselves alongside on a praying place overlooking the river. The Levies were on the right, the ammunition and stores piled by the quarter-guard, the coolies locked up in the fort, and the pickets all right, so we turned in. Towards morning the rain began to fall heavily, so I pulled my bedding under the fort gateway, where I found Stewart and Oldham had already got the best places; however, I found a spot between two levies, and finished the night comfortably enough. We had not done a bad day's work on the whole. Marched from seven in the morning till six at night, covering some twenty miles of hilly country, made a bridge, and occupied one of the chief forts of the country. Cobbe, with the rearguard, had had the poorest time, but he had had the satisfaction of raiding into Buni.

We woke up next morning to find a dull grey sky and the rain pouring down, everything damp and miserable, and the cook having a fight with the wood to make it burn. Our proposed march for the day being only a short one, we did not start till eight A.M. As we were moving off, a Kashmir sepoy turned up who had been one of Edwardes' party, and whose life had been saved by a friendly villager who gave him some Chitrali clothes. I told him to fall in with the company, and he came down with us to Chitral. The remainder of the flour was distributed among the sepoys, and we took as much grain as we could find carriage for, but it was very little.

A small convoy of Punyal Levies joined us that day; they had been foraging up the Yarkhun valley, and had been sent after us by Moberly. Our road led along the valley through cornfields and orchards, which, in spite of the rain, looked very pretty and green. The trees were just in their first foliage and the corn about a foot high, while all the peach and apricot trees were covered with bloom. We did not see a soul on our march, but the officer in charge of the rear-guard reported that as soon as we left Killa Drasan, the villagers came hurrying down the hill in crowds.

At one place we had a short halt on account of a battery pony, which was amusing itself by rolling down a slope with a gun on its back; it was brought back nothing the worse for its escapade, and we resumed our march.

Before getting into camp, our road led up from the lower valley on to some gentle, undulating spurs of the main range of hills; here there was a cluster of villages, and every available spot was cultivated.

On one of these spurs we camped, where three small villages or clusters of houses formed a triangle, the centre of which was a cornfield. This formed an excellent halting-place, as the men were billeted in the houses, each giving the other mutual protection. We formed our mess in part of the rooms of the headman's house, one Russool of Khusht; he was foster-father to the late Nizam-ul-mulk, but had acknowledged the opposition and joined Sher Afzul. (In the photograph he is sitting half hidden behind the Mehter's left arm, with his head rather raised.)

As we had been great friends during my first visit to Chitral,—(he was awfully fond of whisky),—I've no doubt he was pleased to hear I had been his guest in his own house, but I never had an opportunity to thank him, as he left Chitral hurriedly just before our arrival. The house is the best I have seen in Chitral, a fine stone-paved courtyard, surrounded on three sides with rooms and a verandah, a fine old chinar tree near the gateway on the fourth side. The principal rooms are high and larger than usual, but of the usual pattern. I think we got two companies of the Pioneers and ourselves into this house alone.

By three o'clock we had settled down, and were getting dry. The Levies were sent out foraging, and brought in several ponies. As our stores decreased, and more ponies were brought in, we had spare ponies for riding, and we were nearly all mounted by the time we reached Chitral. However, we had not been there ten days before the owners began turning up, and we were ordered to give them back, much to our disgust. It was quite a treat to be in camp and settled before dark, and I've no doubt the coolies were as thankful as we were. The only drawback to our food was the flour of which the chupatties were made; it was coarse to a degree, and seemed to consist chiefly of minute speckly pieces of husk, which used to tickle our throats up in the most unpleasant manner, and had a nasty habit of choking the swallower, in addition to being highly indigestible. We used at last to sift the flour through linen, and the residuum was a surprise and revelation.

We had intended to march the next morning by 7 A.M., with the intention of getting to a village called Parpish, but as it was still pelting with rain, the march was deferred, to give the weather a chance of clearing up, which it very kindly did about 10 A.M., when we started. The Kashmir Company was on advance guard that day, so I went with them, two levies leading, as usual, about a quarter of a mile ahead. We struck up country for about two miles, till we got to a kotal, or saddle, from whence we had a splendid view of the surrounding country. During a halt, Colonel Kelly came up, and I was able to point out to him the different places—Koragh Defile, where Ross's party had been cut up, Reshun, where Edwardes and Fowler had held out for a week, and Barnas, a village we reached the next day. All these places were on the opposite bank of the river and several thousand feet below us. We had, by taking our present route, avoided a very difficult and dangerous part of the country, and no doubt much disgusted the inhabitants, who, on the old route, would have had all things their own way.

By two o'clock we had reached the village of Gurka, where we were met by a deputation, from whom we demanded certain supplies to be brought to our camp on pain of severe punishment if not complied with, and by 4 P.M. we got to the hamlet of Lun, and as there was a good camping ground, good water and firewood, Colonel Kelly decided to halt there. Here also supplies were demanded, the amount depending a good deal on the number of houses and the knowledge of the locality possessed by Humayun. The Lunites paid up smartly enough, as we were too close neighbours to allow of any hesitation; but the Gurka contribution had only partly come in the next morning, so that a party of the Levies was sent back, and the Gurka villagers had the trouble of bringing the loads along to Barnas, instead of only two miles into Lun, while the headman was made to carry a box of ammunition all the way to Chitral.

Before evening the sun came out, and it was very jolly in camp. We had some nice short turf to lie on, and the night was not too cold for comfort. There were good places for the pickets, and the camp was compact and handy.



CHAPTER IX

NEARING CHITRAL

The next morning, April 17th, we started sharp at 7 A.M. Two prisoners had been brought in the night before, one of whom had a Snider and twenty rounds of ammunition, the other a matchlock. They confessed that they had fought us at Nisa Gol, and stated they were now going home. We thought differently, and requested them to carry boxes of ammunition; one of them, the owner of the Snider, objected, on the ground that he was a mullah, but the objection was overruled as frivolous, and he accompanied us to Chitral. We always gave the ammunition to doubtful characters, as they were then under the direct supervision of the guard, and the loads were also more awkward and heavier than skins of flour.

We dropped down the hills now to the river bank. I was on rearguard, a nuisance at the best of times, as any check at the head of the column acts on the rearguard in increasing ratio to the length of the column, so a good deal of time is spent in wondering why the dickens they don't get on in front. That was a particularly bad day for halts: the first one was caused by the column having to cross the Perpish Gol, a very similar place to the Nisa Gol, but undefended. About two miles farther on, the road ran across the face of a cliff, and had been destroyed; it took some three hours to repair it, and then the baggage could only get along slowly.

We had some five unladen donkeys that were kept at the end of the baggage column in case of need, and, one of them trying to push past another, they both rolled over the cliff and went down about a hundred feet on to the road below, which here made a zigzag. The first donkey who came down landed on his head and broke his silly neck; but the second donkey had better luck, and landed on the first donkey in a sitting position. He got up, sniffed contemptuously at his late friend, and resumed his journey. We rolled the remains of the elect over the cliff into the river, and also resumed our course.

During this march and following ones we frequently saw the bodies of men floating down the river or stranded in shoals. They were probably the Sikhs killed with Ross, or perhaps some of Edwardes' party. By 4.30 P.M. the rearguard had crossed the cliff, and, rounding the shoulder of a spur, descended to a plain, bare of vegetation, with the exception of the inevitable wormwood. We crossed this for about a mile, and then struck down to the river, and saw the Pioneers and guns drawn up on the farther bank, and just moving off.

The road on the right hand having been again destroyed a few miles beyond, the direction of the column had been changed, and, a ford having been found, the troops had waded across, with the intention of camping that night at the village of Barnas, the rearguard arriving just in time to see the main body move off towards the village. The Levies had been left behind to help the baggage across, and rendered invaluable assistance, saving many a man from drowning.

I found most of the coolies with their loads still on the right bank of the river, leisurely proceeding to strip before wading across; the loads had to be carried on their heads, the water being well above their waists. Those loads that could be divided were carried over piecemeal, the coolie returning for the second part after taking the first across. This idea was all very fine in theory, but we found that most of the coolies, having made the first trip, sat down on the bank and proceeded to dress, leaving the remainder of their load to find its way across as best it could. Luckily Sergeant Reeves was on the farther bank, and I having also crossed over, we proceeded to drive every coolie back into the river, until there was not a load left on the opposite bank.

Rudyard Kipling, in his story of the taking of the Lungtungpen, tells how, after the scrimmage in the village, "We halted and formed up, and Liftinant Brazenose blushin' pink in the light of the mornin' sun. 'Twas the most ondacent parade I iver tuk a hand in—four-and-twenty privates an' a officer av the line in review ordher, an' not as much as wud dust a fife between 'em all in the way of clothin'." As I stood on that bank, with the evening sun lighting up the river, I thought of "Liftinant Brazenose," and also blushed. True, I was clothed myself, but instead of twenty-five, I had two hundred coolies in the same condition as that bashful officer's army.

It took us some three hours before all those loads were over, during which we had some exciting moments. Most of the coolies found the stream too strong to stem alone, and so they crossed in parties of a dozen or more, holding hands; but now and then a man would try by himself, generally with the result that half-way across he would get swept off his feet, and go floating down the stream, vainly endeavouring to regain his footing. Then there would be a rush of two or three of the levies, the man would be swung on to his feet, and his load fished for. One man I thought was bound to be drowned; he had somehow tied his load on to his head, and, being washed off his feet, his head was kept down below the water, while his legs remained waving frantically in the air. The load, being light, floated, and in this manner he was washed down stream, till two levies reached him, and, swinging him right side up, brought him spluttering ashore.

I often noticed, when sending an old man back for the remainder of his load, that some youngster who had brought his whole load across would volunteer to bring the remainder of the old man's, and, of course, I was only too glad to let him. We found the young men easy to manage, and the old men were let down lightly; it was the middle-aged man, full of strength and his own importance, who sometimes tried to raise objections, but it was getting late, and no time for fooling, so we drove our arguments home with a gun butt, and the man obeyed. The rearguard crossed in the dark, and by nine o'clock I was able to report to Colonel Kelly that everybody had arrived in camp, just as dinner was ready.

I didn't turn in till late that night, as I was on duty, and had to go scrambling round the pickets; even at that late hour I saw many men still cooking, probably preparing food for the next day.

As our supplies were now reduced to less than three days, our march the next morning was ordered for 10 A.M., in order to allow foraging parties to go out at daybreak to scoop in anything they could find.

In the meantime, I sent some levies forward to the next village to reconnoitre.

The foraging parties did not bring in much, but in our case every little was of importance, and by 10 A.M. we started. Our front in camp had been protected by a deep nullah; it took some time getting across this. By the time we cleared the village, we met our returning scouts, who reported having seen the enemy in the village of Mori, and reported their strength as some one hundred men on foot, and about twenty horsemen. So we all cheered up at the chance of a fight.

The road now dropped down to the river bed, and ran along the foot of some cliffs three or four hundred feet sheer above the roadway; there was about a mile of this, and then two miles of narrow path along the face of steep shale slopes and cliff face high above the river. Any force once caught in this place could be cut off to a man. The path was so narrow that in many places the gun ponies could not have turned round.

Colonel Kelly, however, was not to be caught in this way, so the advance guard was ordered to go right through this part of the road till they reached the maidan on the farther side, to hold that, and send back word that they had done so, the main body halting in the meantime till a clear road was announced. Half-way through, the advance guard found the road broken, but it was soon mended, and the end of the road under the cliff reached. Here there was a flattish bit of maidan for about fifty yards before the path ascended, and crossed the face of slope and cliff. The officer in command of the advance guard, thinking this was the maidan mentioned in his orders, sent back word that he was through the defile, and the road clear. Accordingly the main body advanced with a flanking picket on the cliff above. I was with Colonel Kelly at the head of the column, when, turning a corner, we came slap on top of the halted advance guard. There was no time to stop now, and the advance guard was hurried on to allow the main body to, at least, get clear of the cliffs and on the slopes. We got at last on to the slopes, but found the road broken in several places, which delayed the column considerably; luckily, I knew the Levies were on ahead, but I was glad when we reached the end of the bad track.

When we were once more on the move, I went ahead to join the Levies, and find out about the reported enemy. I found the Levies on the maidan that our advance guard should have occupied in the first place, and with them two men who had come out from the village of Mori, now only some two miles away.

These men reported that Mahomed Issar had left about 7 A.M. for Khogazi, taking all his following with him, and that he would defend a position known as the Goland Gol, just in front of that village.

I now went ahead with the Levies, and we swept through the village till we saw clear open country ahead, and satisfied ourselves that there were none of the enemy left.

I then ordered the Levies to ransack every nook and cranny for supplies, and went myself in search of a camping ground. That was not a very difficult job, and I soon came upon a nice garden and orchard, with big shady mulberry trees, and a stream flowing down the centre. On one side was the house that Mahomed Issar had occupied, and belonged to one of Sher Afzul's leading men. It was a well-built house, and inside we found some thirty sacks of caraway seeds, the stuff they put in what are called "wholesome cakes for children."

The Pioneer native officers told us that each sack was worth at least one hundred rupees in Peshawur, but we would gladly have exchanged the whole amount for half the amount of flour. One of the sacks was emptied out and the men allowed to help themselves; each man took away a handful or so, as natives are very fond of it for cooking purposes, especially for curry, a little going a long way. The whole camp smelt of caraway seed, and not an unpleasant smell either. The house was pulled down for firewood. Everyone was delighted with the camp, and it was as picturesque as could be desired. The weather was first-class for bivouacking, the trees were in full leaf, and gave a delightful shade, while the ground was covered with a good sound turf.

Foraging parties were sent out immediately, and the villagers who had met us promised to go and induce their friends to return. In fact, they did collect some ten men, each of whom brought a small sack of flour, and with that and what the foraging parties brought in, we had enough for ourselves and the coolies for three days, by which time we hoped to arrive in Chitral. A good deal of the grain brought in consisted of unhusked rice and millet, what canary birds are fed on in England,—good enough for the coolies, at any rate, most of them having been used to it from childhood. We tried to get the village water-mills going, but all the ironwork had been carried away, and we had no means of quickly refitting them, so the unthreshed rice and millet seed was issued as it was, and the men had to grind it as best they could, with stones. We still had some goats and sheep, and the men used to get a meat ration whenever there was enough to go round.

The rearguard was in by 5 P.M. that day, the first time since we had left Mastuj that it had come in before dark. Things were looking up.

The bridge at Mori had been burned, but we heard of another some two miles farther down, which, if destroyed, could be more easily mended, and as the reputed position taken up by the enemy could be turned from the right bank of the river, it was determined to repair it.

Consequently, early the next morning, Oldham and his Sappers, with a covering party of one company of Pioneers under Bethune, and the Hunza Levies, started to repair the bridge, and be ready to cross and turn the enemy's flank, should he be found awaiting us.

An hour later the main body started over a road leading along a high cliff. Here and there the enemy had evidently made attempts to destroy the road, but so ineffectually that the advance guard hardly delayed its advance for five minutes to repair it, and by 10 A.M. we had reached the broken bridge, and found Oldham and his party hard at work mending it.

The great difficulty was want of beams to stretch across from pier to pier, but attempts were being made to get these from an adjacent village on the opposite bank of the river.

The bridge would not be ready for some two hours at earliest, so Colonel Kelly sent me on to reconnoitre the Goland Gol, which we expected the enemy to hold. I kicked my pony into a gallop and hurried forward.

About a quarter of a mile farther on, I saw one of the road-bearing beams of the destroyed bridge which had stranded on the opposite bank, and sent back a note describing where it could be found.

Another quarter of a mile brought me up to the Punyal Levies, who were already reconnoitring the spurs where the army were supposed to be; but after a careful look through my glasses, we came to the conclusion that there was no enemy, and again advanced. We reached the Goland Gol, which is a narrow nullah running up into the hills on the left bank of the river, the sides being impracticable for several miles, and down the centre of which rushes a mountain torrent, the road to Chitral crossing this latter, just before it flows into the Yarkhun river, by means of a bridge. This bridge we found destroyed, but I sent half the Levies across by fording the stream a hundred yards higher up, and made them occupy the ridge on the far side, and put the remainder on to repair the bridge. I also gave my pony and a note to one of the levies, whom I sent back with a report to Colonel Kelly, who, on receiving it, had work on the other bridge knocked off, as it was no longer wanted.

We hunted for the beams of the Goland Gol bridge, which we found jammed in the stream a short way down, only one out of the four being smashed, and soon had them back in their places. Then we laid a roadway of boards from a hut near, and filled up the holes with branches, and had the bridge ready before the advance guard arrived. I sent back word, and then crossed the stream and joined the remainder of the Levies on the farther side. Here I found several sangars which covered the approaches to the bridge, and soon had them down, and then went on to the village of Khogazi, which was about a mile ahead.

We swept through that village in the usual manner from end to end, finding only one man who turned out to be a Gilgiti; he had been carried into slavery several years previously, but had married and settled down. From him we learned that Mohamed Issar, with a following of about one hundred men, had arrived the day before about noon; shortly after, a messenger came in from Sher Afzul, telling him to come into Chitral without delay, and consequently the whole party had set off about 4 P.M. All the villagers, he said, had fled up the Goland Gol to the higher hills, but he would try and bring in any he could find. He did not think the enemy would try and fight again, though there was a place called Baitali, just before the opening into the Chitral valley, where, if any opposition was offered, it would be made. The position could be turned from both flanks, and ponies could go, but it was not a good road. He professed himself as willing to go and find out if the Baitali Pari was occupied, so I sent him off. I knew the place as one of the worst bits in the whole road between Mastuj and Chitral, but I also knew it could be passed by crossing the river at Khogazi and climbing the hills on the right hand, and down on to the Chitral river above its junction with the Yarkhun river. This would be convenient if the Chitral bridge was destroyed, as it would take us along the right bank, on which stands the fort; but I knew also of a ford about two miles above the Chitral bridge, where we could cover our passage, as the ground was level and open.



CHAPTER X

WE REACH THE GOAL

I picked out a camping ground even better than we had enjoyed at Mori, and then shared some chupatties and chocolate with Rajah Akbar Khan.

The main body came in by two o'clock, and the baggage shortly after. Foraging parties were sent out, and Oldham sent to report on the bridge in case we decided to cross. He reported it as practicable, so a guard was put on it to keep it so.

Stewart came into camp that day like a bear with a sore head. "Here had he been hauling his guns over condemned precipices in pursuit of an invisible enemy. Call this war! it was only a route march. For a promenade he preferred the Empire Theatre."

We tried to console him with hopes of a fight before Chitral, but he declared the Chitralis had grievously disappointed him, and went off to see about fodder for his ponies. Alas, poor Stewart! he didn't get his desire.

As soon as we had settled down in camp, Colonel Kelly told me to try and find some man who would carry a letter into Chitral, to warn the garrison of our approach. I got hold of Shah Mirza, and asked him if he knew anyone who would go. First, we tried the man who had escaped from Killa Drasan, but he refused; then Shah Mirza volunteered to go himself, but he was too useful to be spared. Just as we were wondering who we could get to go, Humayun and Akbar Khan turned up, evidently excited, and escorting a man who was bearing letters from Chitral. He handed over a letter addressed to "The officer commanding troops advancing from Gilgit." Inside was a letter from Surgeon-Major Robertson, saying that Sher Afzul had fled on the night of the 18th April, and the siege of Chitral was raised. He enclosed a return of the killed and wounded, which, he requested, might be forwarded to India. Then we went through the list, and came across poor Baird's name among the killed. This was the first we had heard of it, the natives all declaring that it was Gurdon who had been killed. Among the wounded we came across Surgeon-Major Robertson severely and Captain Campbell severely. Poor old General Baj Singh and Major Bicham Singh were killed, and all together the casualties amounted to one hundred and four killed and wounded out of three hundred and seventy combatants. So the garrison had evidently had a lively time of it. Then we set to work and pumped the messenger dry of all the news he could tell, the details of which are now too well known for me to relate. The man had a passport from Surgeon-Major Robertson, sending him to Killa Drasan, so he was allowed to go. We also found out from him that there was no enemy between us and Chitral, at which Stewart swore openly. My spy returned on meeting the Chitral messenger.

There was no difficulty now in getting a man to go to Chitral, so we sent off one with a note, saying we should arrive next day by noon, the 20th April.

The news had spread quickly through camp, and the native officers came round to hear about it. We sent back a post to Mastuj by some Nagar Levies who had just brought in a post, and then had a good discussion as to the causes that led to the raising of the siege.

I don't know if any of the other officers felt it, but I know, speaking for myself, that with the departure of any uncertainty about our arrival in Chitral in time to save the garrison, a good deal of interest also departed.

I felt inclined to agree with Stewart, that the enemy had given us a just cause for complaint by not playing the game. At any rate, they might have given us a run for our money in front of Chitral, and this seemed to be the general idea throughout the column, consequently our opinion of the Chitrali pluck sank considerably.

We marched at 6 A.M. the next morning punctually, and by noon the advance guard was in the Chitral valley. A halt was ordered to allow the main body to form up, as the guns had had a bad time getting through the Baitali Pari, and had to be unloaded and carried by hand for some distance.

After about two miles we came in sight of the Chitral bridge, which had not been destroyed, and, soon after, of the fort, with the Union Jack still floating on one of the towers.

We crossed the bridge, closed up the column on the other side, the buglers were sent to the front, and we marched on to the fort with as much swagger as we could put on.

We found the garrison in front of the main gate, and were very glad to shake hands again with all our old friends and congratulate them on their splendid defence.

We had a short halt, and then moved on, and took up a position covering the fort, with our front on a nullah and pickets facing south. Our bivouac was in a nice shady garden, with plenty of good water and wood.

When the men had settled down in camp, the officers went back to the fort, where the garrison gave us breakfast, or rather lunch. There was a great deal to hear and tell, and for the first time we began to realise what a touch-and-go time the garrison had been having. There was only one pause in the conversation, and good old Stewart chipped in with "D'ye think, now, there's any chance of another fight?"

After tiffin, we went round and saw all the sights of interest, and generally interviewed the lions. We saw Harley's mine, the gun tower, the enemy's sangars, the hospital, and we did not forget poor Baird's grave, which was just outside the main gate. Then we went back to camp, and most of us took the opportunity to write home. I also took a photograph when everyone was assembled over the homely cup of tea. The bottles on the table look like whisky, but they only contain treacle made by melting down country goor, the extract of sugar-cane. It was our substitute for butter or jam, luxuries we had not seen for weeks. Whisky was a dream of the past, and rum a scarcity. In fact, there was no difference between what we and the sepoys ate, except in the manner of cooking.

We went to sleep that night with the blissful consciousness that the next day was a halt at any rate, and I think we needed the rest. We had put on our least ragged coats to march in and make as brave a show as possible, but our kit generally was in a pretty disreputable state, and there was a good deal of work wanted in the laundry line. Most of us, also, had misgivings about our boots. I was reduced to choosing between boots with large holes in the soles or chuplies mended with string; the boots I kept for show days, as the holes didn't show, and the chuplies for ordinary work. Most of the other officers were much in the same plight.

So ended the march of Colonel Kelly's column to Chitral. Our record, on the whole, was not bad, though, of course, judging by actual distance, we had not done much; it was more the difficult nature of the ground and the altitude at which some of it was done that lent interest to the march, and I am unfeignedly glad my luck caused me to participate in it.

The next day the Kashmir troops of the garrison came out and camped with us, and revelled in the fresh air after the poisonous atmosphere of the fort. Poor chaps! they were walking skeletons, bloodless, and as quiet as the ghosts they resembled, most of them reduced to jerseys and garments of any description, but still plucky and of good heart. They cheered up wonderfully in a few days with good fresh air and sleep, and marched from Chitral quite briskly when they left.

The next day I again went round the fort and got some photos, which follow. One of the British officers of the garrison beneath the gun tower, which was set on fire, and during the extinguishing of which Surgeon-Major Robertson, the British agent, was wounded by a Snider bullet. There is also the loophole, afterwards made, from which a sentry inside the tower could fire at anyone within a few feet. Then I got Harley to show me the site of his sortie, and pretty grisly the place looked, but unfortunately the photograph I took, showing the mine lying open like a ditch to the foot of the tower, was a "wrong un." But I succeeded in getting one showing the mouth of the mine, with the excavated earth.

Then I took one of the sangars from the interior, with the little shelters used by the Pathans when not amusing themselves with rifle practice. The water tower is just visible through the foliage.

Then I took a photo of the fort from the corner by the gun tower looking towards the musjid, which is shown in a photo at the beginning of the book, but taken in more peaceful times. It shows the bridge in the distance, which the fire of the Sikhs made too hot for the Chitralis, who had to cross over the hills in the daytime.

Then I took Harley and the two native officers of the 14th Sikhs, Subadar Gurmuskh Singh and Jemadar Atta Singh. Atta Singh put on white gloves to grace the occasion, but evidently trembled violently during the exposure.

I got a shot at Borradaile sitting in a shelter Oldham had run up for himself; the hawk and spear were looted at Sanoghar, I think. Borradaile looks very like Diogenes in his tub. I also took some Kafirs who strolled into camp. We used to buy their daggers, but they got to asking as much as twenty rupees for a good one after a time. Every Kaffir has a dagger, some of them very good ones, but roughly finished.

After we had been some days in Chitral, some of the 3rd Brigade under General Gatacre arrived, followed by General Low and the headquarter staff.

There was a parade of all the troops in Chitral, with the usual tomasha of salutes and inspection. We were then formed up in a square, and General Low made a speech, in which he said that the honour of raising the siege of Chitral belonged to Colonel Kelly's force; whereat we of that force threw out our chest and patted ourselves on the back. We also winked the other eye.

Little Suji-ul-mulk, the Mehter elect, was present at the review with his following, and personally conducted by the B.A., resplendent in political uniform, we soldiers being in khaki. The parade was dismissed, and, headed by the pipes of the general's escort and of the 4th Gurkhas, we marched back to our camp.

A few days afterwards, I was ordered back to Gilgit, to take up Baird's duties, and the Pioneers followed shortly after.

The Kashmir troops have gone back to Sudin on relief, and the Pioneers have followed. There are only one or two of us now left in Gilgit who took part in the march; but, black or white, it is a bond between us which will, I hope, last our lifetime.

THE END