TO HERAT AND CABUL

[Illustration: ANGUS AND POTTINGER WATCHING THE FIGHT FROM THE WALLS OF
HERAT.

  _Frontispiece._]




  TO HERAT AND CABUL

  A STORY OF

  THE FIRST AFGHAN WAR

  BY

  G.A. HENTY



PREFACE


In the military history of this country there is no darker page than
the destruction of a considerable British force in the terrible defiles
between Cabul and Jellalabad in January, 1842. Of all the wars in which
our troops have taken part never was one entered upon so recklessly
or so unjustifiably. The ruler of Afghanistan, Dost Mahomed, was
sincerely anxious for our friendship. He was alarmed at the menacing
attitude of Russia, which, in conjunction with Persia, was threatening
his dominions and intriguing with the princes at Candahar. Our
commissioner at Cabul, Mr. Burnes, was convinced of the Ameer's honesty
of intention, and protested most strongly against the course taken by
the Indian government, who determined upon setting up a discredited
prince, who had for many years been a fugitive in India, in place of
Dost Mahomed.

In spite of his remonstrances, the war was undertaken. Nothing could
have been worse than the arrangements for it, and the troops suffered
terribly from thirst and want of transport. However, they reached
Cabul with comparatively little fighting. Dost Mahomed fled, and the
puppet Shah Soojah was set up in his place; but he was only kept
there by British bayonets, and for two years he was so protected.
Gradually, however, the British force was withdrawn, until only some
five thousand troops remained to support him. Well led, they would
have been amply sufficient for the purpose, for though the Afghan
tribesmen were dangerous among their mountains, they could not for
a moment have stood against them in the open field. Unhappily the
general was old and infirm, incapable of decision of any kind, and in
his imbecile hands the troops, who in October could have met the whole
forces of Afghanistan in fight, were kept inactive, while the Afghans
pillaged the stores with the provisions for the winter, and insulted
and bearded them in every way. Thus a fine body of fighting men were
reduced to such depths of discontent and shame that when the unworthy
order for retreat before their exulting enemy was given they had lost
all confidence in themselves or their officers, and, weakened by hunger
and hampered by an enormous train of camp followers, they went as sheep
to the slaughter in the trap the Afghans had prepared for them. It
would almost seem that their fate was a punishment for the injustice
of the war. Misfortunes have befallen our arms, but never one so dark
and disgraceful as this. The shame of the disaster was redeemed only by
the heroic garrison of Jellalabad, which, although but one-fourth of
the strength of that at Cabul, sallied out after a noble defence and
routed the army which Dost Mahomed's son Akbar had assembled for their
destruction.




CONTENTS


  CHAP.                                                    PAGE

  I. Alone in the World                                      1

  II. An Unexpected Meeting                                 19

  III. The Siege of Herat                                   36

  IV. A Sturdy Defence                                      54

  V. In Candahar                                            72

  VI. An Escape                                             89

  VII. In the Service                                      108

  VIII. The Advance                                        126

  IX. Just in Time                                         144

  X. A Mission                                             161

  XI. A Dangerous Journey                                  180

  XII. Troubles Thicken                                    198

  XIII. The Murder of Sir A. Burnes                        216

  XIV. A Series of Blunders                                232

  XV. A Doomed Army                                        249

  XVI. Annihilation of the Army                            267

  XVII. Jellalabad                                         286

  XVIII. The Advance on Cabul                              301

  XIX. The British Captives                                321




ILLUSTRATIONS


  Angus and Pottinger watching the fight from the
  walls of Herat                                         _Frontispiece_

                                                                 PAGE

  "A man walking just in front of him ... was knocked
  down"                                                            26

  Azim surprises the spy                                           96

  "He took down the prop, and thrust it suddenly with
  all his force through the hole"                                 150

  "There, lying close under a rock, was a young Afghan"           166

  "As they passed the corner ... some men sprang on
  them"                                                           218

  "Angus was half-mad with grief and with fury that
  he was not in his place among the troops"                       272

  Angus shows his goods to the prisoners                          330

         *       *       *       *       *

  Map of Afghanistan and North-west Frontier of India              50




TO HERAT AND CABUL




CHAPTER I

ALONE IN THE WORLD


On the 20th of September, 1837, a lad was standing before Mr. M'Neill,
the British minister at the Persian court. Both looked grave, for
the interview was an important one. The former felt that it was
the turning-point of his life, the opening of a fresh career, the
introduction to a service in which he might gain honourable distinction
and credit. To the British minister it was of scarcely less importance,
for the interests of Great Britain were gravely involved in the success
of the mission that he was now entrusting to this young clerk in the
employment of the embassy. It was nothing less than thwarting the
designs of Persia, aided and instigated by Russia, to capture Herat and
to conquer at least the western portion of Afghanistan, the alliance of
the princes of Candahar having already been secured.

Angus Campbell was now about sixteen years old. His father was a
trader, who had for twelve years been settled in Tabriz, carrying on
business on his own account in some branches of trade, and as agent
for a Scotch firm in others. The boy had been left with some relations
in Scotland until he was twelve years old, when his parents had paid
a short visit to their friends in Scotland, and had brought him back
with them. The change of life was not an agreeable one to him. In the
eight years that had elapsed since he had last seen his parents, he
had, of course, almost forgotten them, and it would be some time before
any real affection for them would spring up. It was the companionship
of his school-fellows that he missed rather than that of his aunt, a
strict woman, who made no allowance whatever for a boy's restlessness
and love of fun, and who was continually shocked by the complaints made
by members of her chapel as to the conduct of the boys at Dr. Murray's.

It was the principal school in the little town. The teaching was good,
the application of the rod frequent, but neither teaching nor thrashing
availed to soften the manners of the healthy and somewhat riotous
lads, who once out of school threw themselves with all their hearts
into their favourite diversions, among which the most conspicuous
were fishing in forbidden parts of the river, bird-nesting in woods
which were kept strictly private and guarded by keepers, playing
hare-and-hounds across the fields of the crustiest of farmers, and
above all engaging in desperate battles with the boys of other schools.
In all these pastimes Angus Campbell took as large a share as his age
entitled him to, and the state of his clothes and his face when he
returned home was a source of continual amazement and irritation to his
aunt.

She had even endeavoured to arrange for a deputation to wait upon Dr.
Murray with a list of grievances suffered by the townspeople, such as
broken windows, the yells and shouts of conflict, and the destruction
of the boys' garments caused by the various fights, and to propose
that the hours of play should be shortened, and that some sort of
supervision should be exercised at all times over the boys. However,
although there were many who agreed with her that the present state of
things was disgraceful, nothing came of the movement; for the fathers,
remembering their own boyhood, were to a man against the idea.

"We did just the same in our young days," they said, "and are none the
worse for it now. Lads cannot be like lassies, and we don't want them
to be even if they could; if you were to speak to the doctor, he would
just laugh in your faces, and would tell you that he kept a school for
boys and not for girls. If you have complaints to make against any of
his scholars, make them, and he will punish the lads as they deserve.
His boys are no worse than others, and he does not wish to see them
better. If they do some mischief occasionally, it is because they are
in good health and in good spirits, and a lad of that kind is far more
likely to turn out well than one who spends all his spare time in
poring over his books."

As the doctor's opinions on these subjects were known to all the town,
Miss Campbell's proposal came to nothing. She would herself have gone
to him to complain of the doings of her nephew, but there was a strong
feeling in the town that while all things connected with the school
were under the doctor's charge, parents should take other matters into
their own hands, and maintain discipline by the use of the tawse in
their own dwellings, and that they had no right to trouble Dr. Murray
about private delinquencies.

He had, indeed, sufficient on his hands, for although no actual
supervision was maintained when the lads were once dismissed from
school, there were bounds set beyond which they were not allowed to
go, and when they were caught upon any of their frequent forays beyond
these limits, he had to adjudicate and punish the offenders. But it was
not often that this happened; for while the boys considered it not only
justifiable but meritorious to break bounds, they looked upon anyone
caught in the act of showing a want of craft and of judgment, and so,
having good legs and lungs, they were generally able to outdistance
their pursuers.

Thus, then, when his parents returned to Scotland they found Angus a
healthy, active, and high-spirited boy, somewhat rough in manners, but
straightforward and honourable, for it was a tradition in the school
that no boy should ever try to screen himself by a lie. When questioned
by his father, he acknowledged that he would like to stay at school for
a few years longer.

"And I should like you to do so too, Angus; but it is a long, long
journey, and a difficult one, from Tabriz to Scotland, and it may be
many years before I return home again. It is a journey that it is
impossible for a boy to make alone. But this is not the only reason why
I wish to take you back. I want to train you to help me in my business,
and until you speak Persian fluently you will be of no use whatever to
me. At your age you will pick it up rapidly, far more rapidly than you
could if you did not begin till you were seventeen or eighteen. We will
generally speak to you in Persian, and you will have many opportunities
for practising it. In two years you ought to speak it like a native.
Arabic will also be very useful to you. I have constant communications
with India, with Turkey, and with Herat. I buy goods from all these
countries; and sell Persian products to them. In Afghanistan, indeed,
Persian is spoken generally by the trading and upper classes; but
Arabic is essential to trade with Constantinople and Smyrna, with
Bokhara and the Turkomans; and it is our chief medium of communication
with India traders, who, although speaking several distinct languages,
all have more or less knowledge of Arabic. It has been a great
privation to your mother and myself to be so many years without you. We
have no other children, and it would be a great joy and comfort to our
lives, as well as a great assistance to me in my business, to have you
with me."

"I understand, Father," the boy said; "I did not think of these things
before. I am sure I should be very glad to be able to help you, and I
won't say another word about being sorry to leave all my friends."

"It is quite natural that you should be sorry, Angus; it would be
strange indeed if you were not. However, I don't think you will dislike
the life out there when you get accustomed to it. We will certainly do
our best to make you happy."

So Angus had returned with them, and soon settled down to his new life.
Devoting himself earnestly to acquiring the language, at the end of
six months he came to speak it fairly, and before he had been out a
year could have passed as a Persian lad; at the same time he had made
considerable progress in Arabic. His father had then dressed him in
Persian fashion. There was a good deal of ill-feeling among the lower
class against foreigners, and the pugnacity that had been fostered in
Angus at school had frequent opportunities of displaying itself; for,
in spite of good resolutions to the contrary, he was often goaded into
fury by the taunts and abuse with which the boys assailed him when he
went out alone, and had thrown himself upon them, and used his fists
with such effect that he had sometimes put to flight half a dozen
lads of his own age. But in Persian costume he could move about the
streets unnoticed; and although he did not like the change at first,
he acknowledged that it was useful, for his father pointed out to him
that it was essential that nothing should take place that could add to
the dislike with which foreigners were regarded. Already several angry
complaints had been made by neighbours of the state in which their sons
had come home after an encounter with him.

Nearly four years after Angus arrived at Tabriz the plague made its
appearance in Persia. It spread rapidly, and Tabriz was one of the
cities which suffered most severely. One evening Mr. Campbell returned
home from a visit to a customer and complained of feeling unwell. The
next morning it was too evident that he had caught the infection.
Before nightfall his wife also sickened. Twenty-four hours later both
were dead. Mr. Campbell had a long talk with his son as soon as the
disease manifested itself in the case of his wife.

"Angus," he said, "you must prepare for the worst. The cases of
recovery are few indeed. The servants have already fled, and even did I
wish you to leave us, I know that it would be too late now. God's will
be done, my boy, and I can only hope that you may be spared. However
that is in His hands. You have been my assistant now for the past three
years, and know how matters stand. I have no debts. The books will
show you how much is due to me from the house at home and how much by
my agent at Bombay. The stock of goods in the warehouse is worth a
considerable sum. I am unable to think very clearly now, or to advise
you what to do should you be left alone; but it is clear to me that you
are too young yet to manage the business, and it is not likely that the
firm would entrust their affairs to a lad of your age. I should say,
therefore, that you had best dispose of all the goods; the books will
show you their prices. As for yourself, I will give you no advice. It
will be open to you to return to England or to go to Bombay, and I have
no doubt my agent there will obtain employment for you, especially as
you will have money to embark in any business you may go into. But do
not invest a penny until you become of age; you will by that time be
able to judge wisely whether the business you are in is that in which
you can best employ your mind.

"Whatever you do, do not remain in Tabriz. As is always the case
in times of plague or famine, there is sedition and trouble, and
foreigners become the object of hatred, for the poor people have some
sort of superstitious idea that they are responsible for the scourge.
The best thing you can do is to consult our Armenian friend, who is
also our vice-consul; he will view matters more clearly than I can do
at present. Put your trust always in God, my boy. My own opinion is
that you had better remain in the East. Your knowledge of languages
would be absolutely useless to you at home, and you could only hope to
obtain a place in a counting-house."

"I will do as you tell me, father," Angus said, trying to speak
steadily. "I will try always to be what you would wish me."

His grief was terrible when his mother expired two or three hours
after his father. He roused himself, however, to see to the simple
preparations for their funeral, and late that evening buried them in
the garden behind the house.

The next day as he was sitting alone he heard a tumult in the street.
Looking out, he saw that several houses, which he knew belonged to
foreign traders, were in flames, and a mob of maddened men were rushing
down the street towards his house. Resistance would have been madness.
He ran to the safe, seized the bag containing the cash, and had just
time to run out at the back of the house and escape by the gate in the
garden when the rioters burst in.

For a few minutes they were engaged in the work of pillage. Shawls from
Cashmere, native embroidered silks, costly goods from India, Turkish,
Persian, Turkoman, and Heratee carpets, and British goods of all kinds
were scrambled and fought for. When the house was sacked from top to
bottom it was set on fire, and as a volume of smoke rose from it, Angus
turned away from the spot where from a distance he had been watching
the scene, and made his way to the house of the Armenian merchant.
The loss of the house and the contents of the warehouse affected
him little--although he knew that it had cost him more than half
his inheritance--but this was as nothing to what he had so recently
suffered.

The vice-consul had been an intimate friend of the family. On
approaching his house Angus stood some distance from the door and
called. A servant looked out. "Will you tell Izaac effendi that I
desire greatly to speak to him?"

The Armenian quickly came to the door. "My poor lad," he said, "I
grieve deeply for you. I heard of your losses, and the news has just
been brought in of the burning of the house and magazine. But why do
you stand so far away?"

"Because I would not bring contagion near you, effendi. I came to tell
you what had happened, and to say that I shall buy some food and go out
into the country, and there remain until I die of the plague or can be
sure that I have escaped contagion."

"You will come in here at once," the Armenian said. "Does not one
in the street run against persons who may be affected. Many of my
compatriots have come here to ask my advice, and some of them have
stricken friends in their houses. Since I came to reside here I have
four times seen the plague raging, and each time it has passed me over.
Whether it is the will of God that I should thus be spared I know not,
but I am in His hands. Come in, lad, I will take no denial. Shall I
desert my friends when they most need comfort and aid? What is my
friendship worth if I should, now in your hour of need, turn my back
upon you? Come in, I pray you."

Seeing that the old man was thoroughly in earnest, Angus, too greatly
touched by his kindness even to speak, silently entered the house.

"I will take you through at once to the pavilion in the garden," the
merchant said. "Although I have no fear myself, there are my servants
and clerks. 'Tis like enough that some of them may be stricken, for
they, like all of us, are liable to be smitten when they go into the
streets, and should this be so they might blame me for your presence
here; therefore 'tis best that you should for three or four days live
in the pavilion; I will bring you out cushions and pillows. But I do
not think that you will be attacked; had you taken the plague you would
probably have shown symptoms of it ere now. Keep your thoughts from
dwelling on it. I will bring you out some books; try to fix your mind
on them and abstain as much as possible from dwelling on the past. I
will bring your food out to you, and we will talk together to-morrow,
there is much that you will have to consider."

"What are you thinking of doing?" his host asked him when he came in to
see him on the morning after his arrival.

"I have been trying to think, but I cannot decide on anything. I do not
wish to go back to Scotland. I have an aunt living there, but she would
not welcome me warmly. Besides, if I were to do so, I do not see how
I could earn my living; for my knowledge of Persian and Arabic would
be of no use to me. If I had been ten years older the firm for whom my
father was agent might have appointed me in his place, but of course
I am a great deal too young for that. They acted as his agents also,
and bought for him the goods in which he dealt outside their business;
and he told me when he was taken suddenly ill that they had about a
thousand pounds of his money in their hands. That would be of no use to
me now, and I should very much prefer not to touch it until I am old
enough to set up in trade."

"The position is certainly a grave one, Angus. I agree with you that
it would be better for you on all accounts to remain out here, at any
rate for a time. Your father had correspondents also in Bombay, had he
not?"

"Yes, he made purchases of Persian goods for a house there; but he did
not do much for them, as the trade is principally in the hands of the
Parsees."

"There is one thing that you might do," the Armenian said, after
thinking for some time. "I have heard that Mr. M'Neill is on his way to
Teheran as British minister there. You might be able to obtain a post
in his Embassy. You can write both Persian and Arabic, and might be
useful in many ways. It would not be necessary for you to ask a large
salary, but, however small, it might lead the way to better things. At
present there is much political disturbance. The Shah is meditating
an attack upon Herat, and has already given orders for an army to
be collected. Certainly the British government will feel jealous of
any movement that would extend the power of Persia farther towards
Afghanistan, especially as they are, I hear, about to take steps to
interfere in that country by placing a rival of Dost Mahomed on the
throne. Then, too, it is no secret that Russia is encouraging the Shah,
and it is probable that Russian influence will become predominant in
Persia. The conquest of Herat would matter little to England were it
by Persia alone, for Persia is powerless to damage India; but with
Persia acting as the tool of Russia, which some day or other will
assuredly swallow her up, the matter is very much more serious. This
being so, there can be little doubt that the new British minister will
be charged with a mission to counteract the designs of Russia as much
as possible, and might be glad to take into his employment one who
knows the language well and could gather news for him in the guise of a
native--for there are so many dialects spoken in different parts of the
country that any imperfection of speech would pass unnoticed."

"I think that would be an excellent plan, sir, if it could be carried
out."

"I will give you a letter stating the circumstances, speaking of the
esteem in which your father was held, and vouching for your character.
If you decide to take this course, think it would be well for you to
leave at once, for from what I hear of the new minister's course you
would then arrive at Teheran within two or three days of his getting
there, and might have a better chance, therefore, of obtaining a post
in his office. As to the money you speak of, it seems to me that, as
your country is a long way off, it would be better if it could be sent
to the house with which you father had dealings at Bombay, since there
are constantly vessels sailing thither from ports in the Persian Gulf;
and whether you saw an opportunity for doing a trade with India, or
thought of going there yourself, it would be an advantage to have your
money ready to your hand. You must already know a good deal of trade
matters, having, as I know, worked as your father's assistant for the
past two years. At any rate a year or two at Teheran in the service of
the British minister would be an advantage to you in many respects.
There is a caravan starting to-morrow, that is why I suggested that you
should leave at once. A merchant who travels with it is a friend of
mine, and I can recommend you to his care, but it would certainly be
best for you to travel as a native."

"I thank you, sir, very heartily, and shall certainly do as you advise
me, for as an English lad going alone with a caravan I could scarcely
hope to escape trouble with camel-drivers and others. If I fail to
obtain employment at the Embassy, I shall probably travel down with a
caravan to Bushire, and take ship to Bombay. I have plenty of money
to do that, for the expense of travelling with a caravan is very
small--nothing is needed except for food--and the passage in a native
craft would not be more than a pound or two. I have nearly two hundred,
so that I could live for a long time in Bombay if I failed to obtain
employment there. When it is gone, I could at least enlist in one of
the British regiments."

"It is a poor trade soldiering, lad, though in your case it might not
do you harm for a few years, especially if you turned your attention to
learning some of the Indian languages. With such knowledge you should
certainly have no difficulty in making your way with the little capital
you will receive from home."

And so it was settled, and Angus travelled to Teheran. The journey
did him good. He had bought a donkey, and trotting along by the side
of the merchant to whom his friend had introduced him, the novelty of
the life, the strangeness of passing as a native among the travellers,
and the conversation of the Persian merchant kept him from brooding
over his sorrows. He felt that, suddenly thrown as he was upon his
own resources, and compelled to think and act for himself, when but a
fortnight before he had others to think and care for him, he must bear
himself like a man. It was only at night, when rolled in a blanket he
prepared to sleep, that he gave way and lay for hours weeping over his
loss.

The merchant, who had been much pleased with his conversation, and had
made many enquiries as to the ways of his countrymen, and to whom he
had told his plans, invited Angus to take up his abode with him at a
khan until he found whether he could obtain employment at the British
minister's. Issuing into the town, after having seen his animals
attended to and his goods stowed away, the merchant went to see some
friends, and on his return told Angus that the new British minister had
arrived two days before. The next morning Angus went to the envoy's,
and sent in the letter with which the Armenian had furnished him,
together with the translation which he had made and the vice-consul
had signed and stamped. He had not waited many minutes when one of the
attendants came to him and led him in to the minister's room.

"You are Mr. Campbell, the young gentleman of whom our vice-consul at
Tabriz writes to me?"

"Yes, sir."

"It is a sad story that he has told me, and I would willingly do
anything in my power for a young countryman thus left so sadly and
suddenly on his own resources in a foreign land. He tells me that
you speak Arabic as well as Persian, and have some acquaintance with
Armenian colloquially, though you cannot write it as you can the two
former languages. Do you know any other language at all?"

"I know some Kurdish. One of my father's porters was a Kurd, and I was
able to get on fairly with him."

"He tells me that it is your wish to obtain employment of some sort
with me, as at present you are not old enough to enter upon trade for
yourself, and that you do not wish to return to Scotland."

"No, sir. I have been away for four years, and were I to go back I
should lose the advantage that I have gained in learning these Eastern
languages."

"Quite right; very sensibly decided," the minister said. "And I suppose
that you know something of trade?"

"Yes, sir, my father took much pains in instructing me, and for the
past two years I have acted as his assistant, and have learned the
value of most articles of trade."

The minister nodded.

"Very good; it will doubtless be of value to you hereafter. However, I
can at present utilize your services here. I have with me my secretary,
and I have the dragoman employed by my predecessor, who speaks half a
dozen languages; but in many ways a sharp young fellow like yourself,
able if necessary to mix with the people as one of themselves, and to
gather me information as to popular opinion, and who can read and write
Persian fluently, would be a welcome addition to my staff. Of course I
cannot offer you high pay, as I have an allowance for the expenses of
my office upon the same scale as that of my predecessor."

"The pay is quite a secondary matter with me, sir. Even if there were
no pay, I should be glad to accept a temporary post under you, as it
would be a great advantage to me afterwards to have been employed by
you, and I should at least have time to decide what to do next."

"I will think the matter over," the minister said; "at any rate there
will be a room assigned to you in the house, and for the present thirty
shillings a week for your living. You had better continue to wear your
Persian attire. Have you European clothes with you?"

"No, sir, everything was burnt."

The next day Angus was installed in a small room next to that of the
secretary, and set to work translating Persian proclamations, edicts,
and other matters. A fortnight later the minister decided that he
should be dressed as a European when in the house, and a tailor was
sent for and ordered to make him clothes of the same style as a suit of
the secretary's, which was given him to use as a pattern. The minister
nodded approvingly when he entered the little office on the day when
Angus first wore his new suit. His work was now changed, and while
visitors of distinction were ushered in directly to the minister, and
others of less importance were first interviewed by the secretary,
people coming in with complaints or petitions were shown in to Angus,
who took down what they had to say, and then dismissed them to call
the next day for an answer. He was amused at the general impression
prevailing among these people that if the British minister could be
induced to take up their cases he could obtain justice and redress for
them, and how evidently they disbelieved his assurances that a foreign
official could not interfere in such matters.

Six months passed, the Shah had started with his army towards Herat,
and the evidences that Russia was at the bottom of the movement, and
that he was acting in accordance with her advice, became stronger and
stronger. Angus stood high in the minister's good opinion, from the
steadiness with which he worked, the tact and good temper that he
showed with the natives he interviewed, and the willingness with which
he would, after the office was closed, work until late at night at
his translations. Sometimes he changed his attire again, and slightly
darkening his face, and tucking away his light hair, would go out into
the streets, mingle with the crowd in busy quarters, and listen to
the talk. From the fact that the expedition against Herat was seldom
spoken of, he gathered that the war was not popular except among the
trading class, who thought that the possession of Herat would lead to
a large increase of trade with Afghanistan, and even through Candahar
to Northern India. It was, however, but seldom that he went on these
expeditions, for it was certain that any private arrangement that had
been made between the Shah and Russia would be known only to two of the
former's principal officers.

One evening Mr. M'Neill summoned him to his own apartment, and said:
"I have obtained information from a source I can rely upon that Russia
is encouraging the Shah, and that there are other Russian officers
besides their accredited envoy in the Shah's camp. Mr. Corbould started
half an hour ago, and will carry the news himself to London; it is too
important to be trusted to other hands. I have no doubt whatever that
orders will be sent to me at once to mediate between the parties, and
to put a certain amount of pressure upon the Shah. Herat is considered
the key of Afghanistan, and although we could do nothing to assist its
defenders, even were a force to start at once from Bombay, I fancy that
I should be authorized to say to the Shah that England would greatly
resent the town being permanently occupied; and that she might even
go so far as to blockade the ports on the Persian Gulf, and so put a
stop to the whole trade of Persia with India. The great question, of
course, is how long Herat can hold out against the Persians. The place
has the reputation of being strong, but I hear that the fortifications
are much dilapidated. The Afghans are likely to fight well up to a
certain point, but they might, and probably would, get disheartened
after a time. I am anxious to assure them that if they will but hold
out, England will do all in her power to induce the Persians to give up
the siege. The messenger I send must at once be altogether trustworthy,
must be able to make his way through the country as a native, and must
have a sufficient knowledge of Arabic to make himself understood there,
although this is less important, as there must be many traders in the
town who understand Persian."

"If you would entrust me with the message, sir, I would gladly
undertake to carry it to Herat."

"That was my purpose in sending for you, Mr. Campbell. I have the
greatest confidence in you, and as your Persian is good enough to pass
in Teheran, it is certainly good enough for the country districts.
But it is not only because I should trust you thoroughly, and have
every faith in your being able to carry out the mission, but also
because I thought that it would be of great utility to you to be
engaged in the performance of such a mission. If Herat defends itself
successfully until relieved either by Afghan troops, or as a result
of our diplomacy, it will undoubtedly be a feather in the cap of the
gentleman I select to undertake the commission of encouraging the
Heratees to hold out; and, with my report of the valuable services that
you have rendered here, might obtain for you a better position in the
diplomatic service than I can offer you, or some post in India where
your knowledge of Persian and Arabic would be valuable."

"I thank you very much indeed, sir. The change to an active life would
not only be very pleasant to me, but I can quite understand that if
good comes of it I might benefit greatly. Would you wish me to return
as soon as I have delivered your message?"

"No, I think it would be better for you to remain there. I myself will
shortly join the Shah in his camp; the office here will be closed."

On the following day Angus started. The back of his head having been
shaved, his hair was completely covered by his turban. He wore wide
Turkish trousers, a loosely fitting blue embroidered vest, and a long
kaftan thickly padded and falling below his knees, a coloured sash,
with two long-barrelled pistols, and a curved sword. His attire was
that of a Persian trader. He rode on a camel, which, although not a
handsome animal to look at, was of good blood and fast. Slung over
his shoulder was a long matchlock; he carried behind him a great bale
of goods. Accompanying him was a Persian boy, whose father was a
door-keeper at the mission; the boy himself was a hanger-on there. He
was a bright-faced lad of some fifteen years old, who ran messages,
and made himself generally useful. Between him and Angus a sort of
friendship had sprung up, and of an evening when the latter went out he
often took the boy with him, his shrewdness and chatter being a relief
after a long day's work in the office.

Azim had accepted with delight Angus's proposal that he should
accompany him, as his attendant, on a journey that he was about to
make. The matter was settled in a few minutes, a donkey purchased
for him, suitable clothes for travel, and a couple of Kurd blankets.
Angus himself had a large fur-lined coat reaching to his feet, and
four blankets, two of which were of very large size and capable of
being made into a tent, for he knew that the khans and the houses in
the villages swarmed with insects, and was determined that, unless
circumstances prevented it, he would always encamp in the open air.
Azim's camel carried, in addition to a bale of goods, two water-skins,
a sufficient supply of flour for the journey, a bag of ground coffee,
and another of sugar; meat would always be procurable.

It was a long journey, but Angus enjoyed it. The road was a frequented
one, for a considerable trade was carried on between Herat and Persia,
and traders frequently passed along. Azim turned out a bright and
intelligent companion, and no suspicion was anywhere entertained that
Angus was aught but what he seemed. Some little surprise, however,
was occasionally expressed that he should be making the journey at a
time when the Persian army was marching against Herat. To such remarks
he always replied that he should probably stay there but a few days,
and hoped to be well on the road to Candahar before the army arrived
at Herat. He was certain that he should arrive in time, for the army
with its huge baggage train had already taken nearly six months in
accomplishing a journey that he had performed in little over as many
weeks.




CHAPTER II

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING


When near the frontier Angus sold the camels. He had already parted
with all the goods that he had carried, and he now bought peasant
dresses, such as those worn by the Afghan cultivators, for himself and
Azim. It was but some seventy miles on to Herat, but the Persian army
was on the direct road, having just laid siege to Ghorian, and it was
necessary to make a detour to avoid both the plundering parties of
the Persians and the Afghan horsemen who would be hovering round the
enemy's camp. Before crossing the frontier he purchased sufficient food
to last for four days, as it would be dangerous to enter any place
where they might be accosted, as their ignorance of the language would
seem to prove that they were Persian spies.

Both carried swords and long knives, as a protection rather from the
attacks of village dogs than from trouble with men. As it was now
November and the weather was becoming cold at night, they were glad of
the long coats lined with sheep-skin. The country through which they
were passing was fertile, and when on the afternoon of the third day
they came in sight of Herat, even Azim was struck with the richness and
fertility of the country. It was well watered by several small streams;
fortified villages were scattered here and there over the plain. Round
these were gardens, orchards, and vineyards, the intervening spaces
being in summer covered by wide expanses of corn. As they neared the
city they saw that numbers of people from the villages were making
their way towards it, many with bullock waggons carrying stores of
grain and household goods, while women and men were alike loaded. They
entered the gate of the city unquestioned and unnoticed in the crowd of
horse and footmen, cattle, bullock-carts, sheep, and goats.

Striking as was the appearance of the town without, inside everything
showed signs of neglect and poverty. Herat contained some forty-five
thousand inhabitants; the majority of these were Persian Sheeahs. Once
the capital of the great empire of Tamerlane, it had greatly fallen
from its former splendour, its decline having been rapid since its
capture from the Persians by the Afghans in 1715. It had been retaken
by the Persians, and recaptured by the Afghans, under whose savage
rule its prosperity had greatly diminished. It was still an important
trading centre, being situated on the one great thoroughfare between
India and Russia, and being celebrated for the beauty of its carpets
and for the temper of its sword-blades. Its trade was principally in
the hands of Hindoos, who numbered no fewer than a thousand, some of
whom were traders, while others were occupied in the various branches
of work to which they had been accustomed in India. There were several
families of Armenians and a few Jews.

The city had for years suffered under the horrible tyranny of Shah
Kamran, now an old and feeble man, and of his wuzeer or minister, Yar
Mahomed Khan, who held the post of governor of the city. Under these
men neither life nor property was respected; men and women were seized
and sold into slavery under the smallest pretext, often without any
attempt whatever to justify the action. Armed bands of ruffians broke
into the houses and plundered at their will, and the peaceful portion
of the population were in a state of utter misery and despair.

On entering the gate, Angus proceeded along the bazaar, an arched
street about a mile long, which extended from one side of the city to
the other. This was crossed at right angles by another bazaar of equal
length, and the city, which was built in the form of a square, was thus
divided into four quarters. Round the wall was a wide ditch, which was
at all times kept full of water from springs rising in the town.

When he had proceeded some distance, Angus heard two traders in one of
the shops speaking in Armenian. He at once entered. "Effendi," he said
in that language, "I am a stranger here and but newly arrived. Can you
tell me where I can procure a lodging?"

The two men looked in surprise at this Afghan peasant who addressed
them in their own tongue, and one of them, after a moment's hesitation,
bade him come into his private apartment behind the shop.

"Who are you?" he said; "and how come you to speak our language?"

"I learned it in conversation with some of your people in Tabriz, and
especially from one who was the British vice-consul there. I also speak
Persian and Arabic."

The trader's surprise increased as Angus spoke. "But who are you, then,
who have travelled so far, and how is it that having learned so many
languages you are now here as a peasant?"

"It is a disguise," Angus said. "My father was a British merchant at
Tabriz, and I myself am in the service of the British minister at
Teheran, and am the bearer of a letter from him to Shah Kamran."

"You are young indeed, my son, to be engaged on so difficult and
dangerous a mission. Surely I can find you a lodging. All trade is at
a stand-still now, and we Armenians suffer like the rest. My brother,
whom you saw in the shop, is a weaver of carpets; but none will buy
carpets now. He has a house larger than his needs, and would, I am
sure, gladly take you in."

He called his brother in from the front, and explained to him who this
strange visitor was and what he wanted.

"I have money," Angus said, "and am prepared to pay well for
my accommodation. I have a servant with me, he is the son of a
door-keeper at the embassy, and is altogether faithful and trustworthy.
Unfortunately, I do not speak the Afghan tongue."

"That will matter little in the town; the majority of the people still
speak Persian, although they may know Pushtoo. It is the same with
many of the fugitives who have come in from the plain. You will have
difficulty in seeing the prince. He is old and feeble, and for the
greater part of his time he is drunk. Everything is therefore in the
hands of the wuzeer, who is one of the worst of men--cruel, avaricious,
and unscrupulous. We have had many tyrants, but he is the worst; and
I can assure you that the success of the Persians would fill all but
the Afghan portion of the population with the deepest joy. It will be
necessary for you to see him first before you see Shah Kamran. The
hour is getting late, and I shall close my shop shortly. If you will
go round with my brother to his house I will join you there presently.
We all love and respect the English. They have always been our good
friends, and glad indeed should we be were they masters here as they
are in India; for I have been there, and know how just is their
rule--how they oppress no one, and will not suffer others to do so.
This would be a happy city indeed if your people were our masters."

A short walk brought Angus and Azim to the house of the carpet-weaver.
It was of some size, but bore a neglected and poverty-stricken aspect,
which was not belied by its appearance when they entered. The doors
stood open, and it could be seen that looms stood idle now in all
the rooms. The man led the way upstairs, and unlocking a door there
entered the family apartments. The contrast between these and the floor
below was great indeed. Afghan carpets covered the passages and floors,
well-stuffed divans ran round the rooms, and although there were no
signs of wealth, everything pointed to comfort. The Armenian led them
into a room, where his wife and two daughters were seated. They rose
in some surprise at seeing him enter accompanied by an Afghan peasant.
Azim had remained in the passage without.

"Do not be surprised," the trader said; "this person is not what he
looks, but is an English effendi, the bearer of a letter from his
minister at Teheran to Shah Kamran. He is going to do us the honour to
lodge here for a time. He speaks our language as well as Persian."

"He is welcome," his wife said courteously; "and indeed his presence
here will afford us a protection which we shall need more than ever
when the passions of the people are excited by the siege."

"As you are accustomed to our ways," the husband said, "you will not be
surprised at my bringing you in here or at seeing the women unveiled.
As a rule, everywhere in the East we adopt the customs of the country
so far that our women veil when they go out, and my wife and daughters
would do the same here if they were to walk through the streets. But my
daughters have not left the house since they were children; my wife has
not done so since we took up our abode here twenty-three years ago."

Angus uttered an exclamation of surprise.

"You would not be astonished if you knew the lawlessness that prevails
here. No young woman can venture safely into the streets, for as
soon as a report that she was good-looking reached Kamran she would
be seized and carried off to his harem even in broad daylight. No
respectable woman would think of going out save with an armed escort."

"That is indeed a terrible state of things."

"We are accustomed to it now, effendi, and at any rate we are not
molested here. I make a present now and then to Yar Mahomed Khan and
also to his principal officer, and I am let alone by them. My brother
does the same. They know that I am a carpet-weaver employing eight
or ten men, and as they believe I could not be squeezed to any large
amount, they are satisfied to let us go on. So as long as we keep
quietly at home we are not molested, and we both intend ere long to
move from here to Teheran or Tabriz. We have only been waiting until we
can manage to get away with our belongings without attracting notice.
We have done very well since we came here, for trade has been good.
My brother buys up the products of many other looms, and we have both
made good profits, but we take care that we do not keep more money than
is necessary here. Now I will show you the room that will be at your
disposal. You will, I hope, join us at our family meals, so that we
shall not have to cook for you separately."

"Certainly, it would be very much more pleasant for me."

The terms were arranged without difficulty, for the Armenian felt that
it might be a great protection for them to have an Englishman in the
house. The merchant then arranged to obtain a dress for Angus similar
to that worn by himself and his brother. This was brought in on the
following morning. Having put it on, Angus went out accompanied by
Azim. He decided to wait for a day or two before seeing the wuzeer, so
as to ascertain the state of things in the town and the preparations
for defence. He was going through one of the narrow streets when
a loaded camel came along behind him, its paniers nearly touching
the houses on each side. Its rider did not give the usual shout of
warning, and Angus had but just time to jump into a doorway when it
brushed past him, the Afghan driver grinning maliciously at so nearly
upsetting one whom he regarded as a Sheeah trader. A man walking just
in front of him, who was not quick enough to get out of the camel's
way, was knocked down. As he got up Angus to his astonishment heard
him mutter angrily, "Confound you! I wish I had you outside this town,
I would give you a lesson you would not forget!" Astonished to find
another Englishman here in Afghan costume, Angus stepped up to him and
said, "I did not expect to find an Englishman here, sir."

The other turned sharply round. "I am as surprised as you can be, sir!
But we had better not be speaking English here. I am lodging within
fifty yards of this, if you will follow me I will take you there, and
we can then introduce ourselves properly."

In three minutes they were in the room occupied by the stranger. "As
host I will introduce myself first," he said with a smile. "My name
is Eldred Pottinger; I have been travelling through Afghanistan on an
unofficial mission to explore and report on the country to my uncle,
Colonel Pottinger, Resident in Scinde. Happening to arrive here at the
present crisis, and thinking that I might be useful if the city is
besieged, I have declared myself to the wuzeer, and although I still
retain my disguise there are many who know that I am an Englishman."

"My name is Angus Campbell, Mr. Pottinger. I am in the employment of
the British minister at Teheran, and am the bearer of a letter from him
to Shah Kamran encouraging him to maintain the defence of the city as
long as possible, and holding out hopes that the British government,
which would view the attack upon Herat with grave dissatisfaction,
will endeavour to mediate between him and the Shah, and may even take
measures to put pressure upon the latter to withdraw his forces."

"That is very satisfactory. Of course I have had no shadow of authority
to speak in that way, and could only assure him generally that he
would have the good will of the English, and that as an English
officer I would on my own part put any military skill that I possess
at his service, and, being myself an artillery officer, might be of
considerable assistance to him in the management and working of the
guns. But your letter will place me in a more favourable position. What
are your instructions? Are you going to return to the embassy or remain
here?"

"Mr. M'Neill left it to myself. He will join the Shah's army, as the
Russian ambassador is also with it. As he takes the dragoman of the
legation down with him, he has no absolute occasion for my services.
From what I have seen of the place so far, though I only arrived
yesterday, it does not seem to me possible that these mud walls can
withstand a battering fire. The place will therefore very likely be
taken in a few days; and as I should not care about being in a town
sacked by Persian troops, I had intended to leave it as soon as I
delivered my letter."

"There is no doubt about the weakness of the place; a European army
would carry it in three days. But the Persians have never been
remarkable for their courage, while the Afghans are undoubtedly a
fighting people. I think it is quite possible that the siege may last
for months. You know the dilatory way in which these Eastern people go
to work. Of course I can give no opinion whatever as to what would be
your best course. It would depend upon so many things--your position
at the embassy, your chances of promotion there, and other matters of
which I am altogether ignorant. I suppose you speak Persian well?"

[Illustration: A MAN WALKING JUST IN FRONT OF HIM ... WAS KNOCKED DOWN.]

"Yes, and also Arabic, and I can get on in Armenian and Kurdish.
As to my position, it is scarcely an official one. I am the son of a
Scottish trader who for twelve years carried on business at Tabriz.
He and my mother were carried off eight months ago by an outbreak of
plague, and his house and store were burned in some street riots. I
consulted the British vice-consul there, an Armenian who was a friend
of my father, and we agreed that from my knowledge of languages I ought
to be able to get on better in the East than at home, where it would be
of no use to me. I had acted as my father's assistant for the last two
years of his life, and had therefore acquired a knowledge of trading;
and I have a small capital with which, when I get older, I can either
enter into business myself or join someone already established. I was
very glad to obtain this place in the embassy as a temporary employment
until I could see my way, for although Mr. M'Neill kindly took me on as
an extra assistant, of course his successor, whoever he may be, may not
want me."

"I think you have done very wisely. How old are you now?"

"I am a few months over sixteen."

"You are young indeed," Pottinger laughed, "to be engaged in political
affairs. Well, I should say that if the Afghans really mean to fight,
as I believe they will, they can hold the town for some time, and
you will therefore be able to learn their language, which would be
invaluable to you if you go in for commerce, or in fact whatever you do
out here. Things are in a disturbed state in Afghanistan, and I should
be surprised if the Indian Government does not interfere there before
long; and in that case anyone acquainted with Pushtoo and with Arabic
and Persian will have no difficulty in finding employment with the
army, and through my uncle I might be able to put you in the way of it.
And now about your mission.

"The wuzeer for some reason or other--I own I don't see why--has been
exceedingly civil to me. On my arrival I sent to say that I was a
stranger and a traveller, and that, should it be pleasing to him, I
would wait upon him. He sent down at once to say that he would see me
the next day. Of course on occasions of this sort it is usual to make a
present. The only thing that I could give him was a brace of detonating
pistols. He had never seen any but flint-locks before, and accepted
them graciously. Finding that I was a British artillery officer, he at
once asked my opinion on a variety of matters, and took me round the
walls with him, consulting me as to how they had best be strengthened,
and so on.

"I will go up and see him presently, and tell him that you have arrived
and are the bearer of a letter from our minister to Shah Kamran. I
shall of course mention that you have come in disguise, and that you
have therefore been unable to bring the customary presents, and I
shall point out to him that you possess the confidence of the British
minister. I shall say that for that reason I have persuaded you to
remain here during the siege, and that I am sure you will act with me,
and moreover will endeavour to keep M'Neill well informed of everything
going on here, and will continually urge him to impress upon the
British government the importance of the position and the necessity for
interfering to prevent it from falling into the hands of the Persians.
As to its importance there is no doubt, especially as Russia appears
to be making Persia a cat's-paw in the matter. That is why I feel that
while fighting for these Heratees--who between ourselves seem to me to
be unmitigated ruffians--I am merely fighting for England, for it is of
the utmost importance that the gate of India should not be in the hands
of Persia, especially if, as you say, Russian influence is dominant at
Teheran."

"I am sure I shall be delighted if you will accept me as your
assistant, though I don't see at present what possible service I can
be."

"You will be of use. There will be no end of things to see about." Then
he burst out laughing. "It does seem absurd, doesn't it, that we two, I
a young lieutenant and you a lad not yet seventeen, should be proposing
to take a prominent part in the defence of a city like this against an
army commanded by the Shah of Persia in person."

Angus joined in the laugh. "It is not ridiculous for you," he said,
"because as an artillery officer you must know a great deal more about
the defence of towns than these Afghans can do; but it certainly is
absurd my having anything to do in it."

Pottinger went with Angus to the house of the Armenian in order that
he might know where to find him. Leaving him there he went up to the
citadel, which stood on rising ground at one corner of the town. He
returned in an hour, and said that the wuzeer would receive him at once.

"He is a good deal impressed," he went on, "with the fact that our
minister should have sent a messenger here with the letter. At first
he did not see why England should be interested in the matter, and
I had to explain to him about the Russian intrigue in Persia, and
that there was no doubt that sooner or later they would invade India,
and that this would be rendered comparatively easy by Herat being
in the hands of their friends the Persians. He enquired of me what
rank you held. I told him that you were a member of the embassy,
acting as assistant-secretary to the minister, and, as was evident
by his entrusting you with so important a despatch, were deep in his
confidence."

On arriving at the citadel they were at once conducted to the apartment
of the wuzeer. Yar Mahomed rose from his seat and greeted them
politely. Angus walked forward, bowed, and delivered his letter.

"You speak Persian, your excellency?" the minister said. Angus had
difficulty in restraining a smile at his new dignity, but said gravely:
"Yes, your highness, I speak it and Arabic."

"You journeyed here comfortably, I hope?"

"Yes; there were a few adventures on the way, but not more than I had
expected."

Yar Mahomed opened and read the letter.

"You are aware of its contents?" he asked.

"Yes, I learned them by heart before I left Teheran, in case I should
be robbed of the letter on the way."

The wuzeer sat in thought for a minute.

"But how," he said doubtfully, "can your country, which is, as I hear,
very far distant, exercise any influence with the Shah? Surely you
could not send an army all that distance?"

"Not from England, your highness; but we could send a fleet that could
shut up all the ports in the Persian Gulf, and we could send troops
from India to occupy those places, and so destroy all their trade.
Moreover, we could put a stop to all trade passing by land through this
town to Scinde, and send a great army by sea and invade Persia, and, as
our soldiers are much better than the Persians, might even take Tabriz
and Teheran. The Shah knows that they have done great things in India,
and will see how they might bring ruin on Persia."

"Yes, what your minister says is true; but will he do this at once?"

"That I cannot say," Angus replied. "At first, no doubt, the government
of England would say, 'Herat is very far off; it will fall before we
can do anything.' But if they find that it holds out bravely, they will
say, 'We must help these people who are fighting so well.' There is
another thing. It is said that there are already some Russian officers
with the Shah's army. The English are very jealous of the Russians, and
when they come to understand that it is Russia who has sent the Shah
to capture Herat their anger will speedily be roused, and they will
bid their minister say to the Shah, 'If you continue to fight against
Herat, we shall send our ships and our army against you.' The Shah
knows that we have conquered in India people far more warlike than the
Persians, and he will say to himself, 'Why should I run the risk of
losing my kingdom merely to please the Russians, who are really much
more dangerous neighbours than the English?'"

"The words of your excellency are wise," the wuzeer said. "You will
see that we shall hold out for months, or even for years if necessary.
I can understand now why the British minister has confidence in you
though you look so young. How many years has your excellency?"

"I am not yet thirty," Angus said calmly.

The wuzeer looked surprised.

"It is because your face is smooth that you look so young. We Afghans
wear our beards; I see that you do not, for even this brave officer,
who has come to fight for us, has no hair on his face. He has told me
that you will stay here, and assist with your advice."

"So far as I am able to do so, I will; but I am not greatly skilled in
such matters. Still, I will assist him so far as I can."

"It is good," the Afghan said.

"It would be better, your highness, that it should not be known that
I am an agent of the British minister; though of course you can, if
you find it necessary, cheer your soldiers by telling them if they
fight bravely and well the British minister will try and mediate
between you and the Shah, and to persuade him to draw off his army.
But were the Shah to know that the British minister has an agent here,
he would be wroth with him, and might not listen so willingly to his
representations. Let it then, I beg you, be supposed that, like Mr.
Pottinger, I am but an English traveller, who, chancing to be here, is
willing to do all that he can to aid in the defence of the town against
the Persians."

"Your words are good; so let it be. Where are you dwelling now?"

"At the house of the Armenian carpet-weaver Kajar. The times being bad,
his looms are at a stand-still, and he was glad to let me an apartment."

"He is a good man," the wuzeer said, "a good man and honest, but not
rich."

Angus felt that the last words were rather a question than an
assertion, and he said:

"Surely no. His rooms are very simple, but they are clean, and if a
traveller can but find a clean lodging, he cares not how poor it is."

"Shall you be sending a message to the minister?"

"I shall endeavour to do so by a servant lad I have brought with me. I
will tell him that his mind may be at ease, for Herat can hold out."

"The Persians are cowards!" the wuzeer said angrily. "My horsemen have
been round them for many days, but they give them no chance. They keep
together like a flock of sheep, with their guns and their infantry,
instead of riding out bravely to bring in plunder and fight with their
enemies when they meet them."

Then turning to Pottinger he went on:

"I have sent out, as you advised me, to cut down all the trees within
half a mile of the town, so that the Persians will have no shelter from
our guns; and as all the granaries are emptied for miles round, they
will have a long way to go to get food. A number of men are also at
work at the place where, as you showed me, the wall was rotten; and
others are clearing out the ditch, and making the bank steeper where it
has slipped down, so that if they should be so mad as to rush forward
and try to cross the moat, they will not be able to climb up."

"That is important, Wuzeer, and still more so is it that the little
wall at the foot of the mount of earth that surrounds the city wall
should be repaired. That is of the greatest importance. They may manage
to fill up the moat and cross it, but as long as the lower wall stands
they cannot climb up, even if a breach was made in the main wall."

"I will go round now with you," the wuzeer said, "and we will see where
the worst places are."

Angus accompanied them, and found that Pottinger's statement as to the
weakness of the fortifications was well founded. From a distance the
wall had looked imposing, for it was of considerable height and great
thickness, but it was entirely constructed of dried mud, and heavy
guns could effect a breach anywhere in the course of a day or two. It
was evident that if the place was to hold out, it must depend upon the
bravery of its troops and not upon the strength of its walls.

For the next week the work went on incessantly. Every able-bodied man
in the town was employed in the repairs of the wall and in cutting down
trees, while the work of destroying grain and all kinds of necessaries
which could not be brought into the town was performed by the troops.
These were all Afghans, were in regular pay, and formed the fighting
army of the ruler of Herat. Their discipline was at all times very
lax, and the permission to destroy and burn, which naturally included
looting everything of value for their own benefit, rendered them even
less amenable to discipline than before.

Eldred Pottinger, as far as he could venture, tried to induce the
wuzeer to have the work executed in a more regular manner and under
strict supervision by officers told off for the purpose, but Yar
Mahomed viewed the matter with indifference.

"What does it matter," he said, "whether the soldiers take things or
not? It would be all the same to the owners whether they have them, or
whether they are destroyed, or fall into the hands of the Persians. In
a few days the enemy will be here, and it would be foolish to cause
dissatisfaction among the soldiers over a matter of no consequence
whatever."

The country, indeed, was now deserted by all its inhabitants. Immense
stores of food had been brought into the city, every unoccupied piece
of ground between the city walls was crowded with cattle, sheep, and
horses, and there was no fear that famine would for a very long period
be a serious trouble to the besieged. Eldred Pottinger's time was
principally occupied in seeing to the repair of the guns and their
carriages. Without any definite rank having been given to him, it was
understood that all his orders had the support of the wuzeer, and were
to be obeyed as if they came directly from him, and that the young
man with him was also an Englishman of some importance, and possessed
similar powers.

While Pottinger looked chiefly after the military work performed by the
Afghans who had come into the town, Angus superintended that upon which
the Sheeahs were engaged. These Persian-speaking people carried out his
instructions cheerfully, because they were given in their own language,
and were not accompanied by the contemptuous haughtiness and animosity
which would have characterized the orders of an Afghan, the hostility
between the two great religious sects of Islam being even greater than
that entertained by both against the infidel.

Pottinger had now taken up his abode at the house of Kajar, where there
were several apartments unoccupied. As he did not speak Armenian, and
knew but little Persian, Angus and he arranged to have a mess of their
own, engaging a man recommended to them by the Armenian as a good cook.
This had been rendered the more necessary, as the trader with whom
Angus had first spoken had also moved with his wife to his brother's
house.

He had taken this step because he foresaw that as the siege went on the
position of the Sheeahs would become more and more unbearable, and that
the protection the presence of the two Englishmen could afford would
be most valuable. Indeed Kajar, as soon as he saw that Angus had been
favourably received by the wuzeer, had himself suggested that Pottinger
might also be offered accommodation at his house.

"There need be no further talk of payment, effendi, between us. Your
presence here will be of vastly greater importance than any money you
could give us. No one can say what will happen here. It is not only our
property, but our lives which will be at stake; but with you as inmates
here, no one would dare interfere with us, and we all regard the fact
that you should almost accidentally have been brought here as a special
blessing that has been sent from heaven to us."

The young Englishmen thus strangely thrown together soon became fast
friends, and it was pleasant indeed to them to enjoy their evenings
together, after each had been engaged during the whole day at the
duties they had undertaken. A couple of hours, however, were always
spent by them, each in his own room. Pottinger engaged the services of
a mollah, or priest of the Sheeah sect, to give him lessons in Persian,
while Angus worked at Pushtoo with Kajar, who spoke the Afghan language
perfectly.




CHAPTER III

THE SIEGE OF HERAT


On 22nd of November, a fortnight after Angus arrived at Herat, the
Persian army took up its position on the plain to the north-west of
the city. The inhabitants crowded the walls to watch the advancing
host--the Afghan portion of the population with scowling faces and
muttered imprecations, the Sheeahs prudently abstaining from all
demonstrations of their feelings, but filled with hopes of deliverance
from their tyrants. Pottinger learned that the Afghan horse were going
to make a sortie, and he and Angus went together to the north-west
angle of the wall.

"A good deal will depend upon this first fight," Pottinger said.
"If the Persians easily repulse the assault, it will cause a deep
depression among the Afghans. If, on the other hand, the Heratees
obtain a fair amount of success, it will so encourage them that they
will not fear another time to encounter the enemy, and will fight
strongly when the walls are attacked."

In a short time the Afghan horse were seen pouring out of the western
gate. There was but small attempt at anything like military order.
It was a mob of horsemen; individually splendid riders, and for
skirmishing purposes unsurpassed, but, as Pottinger remarked to his
companion, quite unfit to stand against a charge of regular cavalry
equally endowed with courage. Keeping near the city wall until facing
the Persian position, where a regiment of cavalry were hastily
mounting, they wheeled round and rode against the enemy with loud
shouts. The Persians rode to meet them, but were unable to withstand
the impetuosity of the charge, and, amidst the exulting shouts of the
Afghans on the wall, wheeled round and fled in disorder. The Afghans
then turning, flung themselves upon a strong body of infantry that
was advancing against them in good order. These, however, stood firm,
emptying many saddles by a heavy volley they poured in when the Afghans
were close, and presenting so steady a line of bayonets that the
horsemen recoiled.

As they did so, the Persian artillery opened upon the Afghans, who
retired until near the wall, and then dismounted and opened fire with
their long matchlocks upon the Persian gunners. Pottinger ran at once
to a couple of guns close to where they were standing, and under his
directions the Afghans in charge of them at once replied to the Persian
guns. A number of the Afghan footmen ran out from the gate on that
side, and, joining the dismounted men, kept up a hot fire, while those
on the wall also joined in the conflict. As the Persian guns could
effect little against the infantry lying in shelter, they were now
directed against the wall, causing a rapid dispersal of the peaceable
portion of the spectators. The effect of their fire showed at once the
rottenness of the fortifications. Although but light guns, they knocked
down portions of the parapet, which crumbled as if it had been made of
rotten timber. Pottinger shook his head as he and Angus walked along
to watch the effect of the fire. "If a six-pound shot can effect such
damage as this, it is clear that when they get their siege guns to work
a few hours will effect a breach in the wall itself."

On their side the Persians also sent out skirmishers. These pushed
forward to a point where they could take the Afghans in flank, and
cause them to retire nearer to the walls. The fighting was continued
until dark, when the Persians drew off, and the Afghans retired into
the city. No material advantage had been gained by either side, but the
Heratees were well content with the result. They had shown themselves
superior to the Persian cavalry, and had maintained themselves against
the infantry.

The Persians lost no time, and during the night pushed forward and
occupied all the gardens and enclosures on the west of the city, and
placed a strong force among the ruins of a village there. In the
morning they began to advance against the wall. The Afghans sallied
out horse and foot; the cavalry, unable to act in such broken ground,
moved round, and hanging on the flanks of the Persian camp, continually
threatened an attack. The infantry, taking advantage of every wall and
bush, maintained a heavy fire upon the enemy. The artillery on both
sides opened fire, but at the end of the day neither party had gained
any advantage.

The Afghans brought in the heads of several whom they had killed, and
a few prisoners. The heads were placed on pikes and exhibited on the
walls. The prisoners were bartered as slaves in exchange for horses to
the Turkomans, of whom a considerable party were encamped at a short
distance from the walls.

"It is horrible and disgusting," Pottinger said to his companion that
evening as they sat together, "this custom of cutting off heads, but as
it is, I believe, universal in the East, it would be worse than useless
to protest against it. It is the custom always to reward a soldier for
bringing in a head as a proof of his valour, though, in fact, it is
no proof, as he may simply, as he advances, cut it from the body of
a man shot by someone else. Putting aside the brutality, it operates
badly, for instead of following up an advantage hotly, the men stop
to collect these miserable trophies, and so give time to an enemy to
escape or rally. I have read in the accounts of the campaigns of the
Turkish conquerors that the heads were always brought in to the general
and piled before his tent, and that each soldier was rewarded according
to the number he brought in, and I fancy it was the same thing with
Mohammedan conquerors in India. Well, I am afraid that we shall see a
number of things that will disgust us before the siege is over. If I
were fighting solely for the Heratees, I should certainly retire if
they continue these barbarities. But I have no interest whatever in
them; in fact, I see that the greater portion of the population would
be benefited by living under the Persian rule. I go into this matter
solely because it is one I consider of vital interest to England, and
therefore, as an Englishman I am willing to do my utmost to keep, not
the Persians, but the Russians from seizing this place."

Angus had now completely caught the enthusiasm of the young
artilleryman. He was perhaps less horrified than his companion, for he
had seen so much of Eastern modes of punishment, that he had learned to
regard them with less horror than that felt by Europeans unaccustomed
to Oriental methods.

"I have been accustomed to look on at acts of brutality," he said, "for
from the time when I first came out, my father always impressed upon
me that we were strangers in this part of the world, and must be very
cautious not to show any aversion to its customs. It would lead us into
endless trouble if we were to show in any way that what to them seems
only natural, was to us revolting; and though I have often been tempted
to interfere when I have seen some act of brutality, I have always
followed my father's instructions, and walked away without showing any
anger or disgust. I agree with you that it is horrid, but it is not
like seeing living men tortured; at least, when one is dead it can make
no great difference if one is buried with a head or without one."

Pottinger laughed. "That is certainly one way of looking at it, and I
can understand that as the custom has prevailed among these peoples for
centuries they can scarcely understand our feelings of abhorrence and
indignation. However, I am determined that, whatever I do or feel, I
will keep my mouth shut, and not say a word that would anger the wuzeer
and shake my influence with him. At present he is well disposed towards
me, and I have been of real assistance to him. When things become
critical I may be of vital service. From what Kajar says there is a
strong suspicion that he is not personally brave, which I can quite
believe, as very few thorough-paced brutes are. Now old Shah Kamran
is, I must own, an exception; an absolutely greater scoundrel than he
has proved himself to be probably never existed, but he is known to
have been in his earlier days as brave as a lion. If he had been some
twenty years younger I should have stronger hopes of eventual success
than I have now. Personal bravery in a general is of no extraordinary
advantage in a European army, where he is not expected to lead men
into battle, but with irregular troops like these Heratees it is of
vital importance. They will follow their leader anywhere, but if he
sends them into danger while he himself remains at a distance, they
lose their enthusiasm directly, and are half thrashed before the battle
begins."

"Do you not think that Kamran will be able at any important moment to
come forward and show himself among the defenders of the breach? I hear
that only a month or so ago he returned from a campaign."

"I am afraid not. I have seen him twice, and although it cannot be said
that he is an imbecile, he is next door to it. He understands what
is going on, but his nerves are utterly shattered by drink; he is in
what may be termed the lachrymose condition of drunkenness. He works
himself into a state of childish passion; sometimes he raves, then he
whimpers. Certainly his appearance would have no inspiring effect upon
these rough Afghan soldiers. They want a man who would rush sword in
hand at their head, call upon them to follow him, and then dash into
the middle of the foe, and the miserable old man could scarcely hold a
sword in his shaking hand."

"Well, at any rate, the Afghans have fought bravely yesterday and
to-day."

"Excellently; but it is the work they are accustomed to. An Afghan
battle consists of two sets of men snugly hidden away among the rocks,
firing away at each other until one side loses a few men and then
retires. So they were quite at home at their skirmishing work, and
certainly more than a match for the same number of Persians. What they
will do when an attack on a breach is made by a column remains to be
seen."

Night and day the Heratees worked at their defences, while the Persians
raised batteries and fortified their camp against sudden attacks. After
four or five days of comparative quiet a heavy cannonade broke out.
Artillery played upon the walls, mortars threw shell into the town,
and rockets whizzed overhead. For a time the consternation in the city
was prodigious; the rockets especially, which were altogether new to
them, appalled the inhabitants, who, as night came on, gathered on
the roofs of their houses and watched with affright the sharp trains
of light, and shuddered at the sound of the fiery missiles. The sound
of lamentation, the cries of fear, and the prayers to Allah resounded
over the city; but the panic abated somewhat when it was found that
comparatively little injury was effected. But while the peaceful
inhabitants wailed and prayed, the troops and the men who had come in
from the Afghan villages laboured steadily and silently at the work of
repairing the damages effected by the fire of the Persian batteries.

But little could be done to the face of the wall, but the crumbling
parapets and earth dug up from open spaces were used to construct a
fresh wall behind the old one at points against which the Persian
guns played most fiercely, so that when a breach was formed the
assailants would find an unlooked-for obstacle to their entrance into
the town. This work was directed by Pottinger, who took but little
rest, remaining constantly at his post, and only snatching an hour's
sleep now and then. Angus assisted to the best of his power, always
taking his place when his comrade could no longer battle against
sleep, and seeing that everything went on well. The Afghans yielded a
willing obedience to the orders of these young strangers. They saw the
utility of the work upon which they were engaged, and laboured well and
steadily. The Persian artillery were, fortunately for the besieged,
badly commanded. Instead of concentrating their fire upon one spot,
in which case a breach would have been effected in a few hours, each
gunner directed his aim as he thought best, and the shot which, if
poured upon a single point, would have brought down the crumbling wall,
effected no material damage, scattered as it was over a face a mile in
length.

It was all the less effective, inasmuch as the artillerymen generally
aimed at the parapet of the wall instead of the solid portion below it.
It was a delight to them to see a portion of the parapet knocked down
by their shot, whereas when the wall itself was hit comparatively small
show was made. Many of the shot flew high and passed over the town into
the fields beyond it, and at the end of four days' almost continuous
firing, Herat was stronger and more capable of resistance than it was
when the Persians first appeared before the walls. The absence of any
tangible result evidently lowered the spirits of the besiegers, while
it proportionately raised those of the defenders. Moreover, the immense
expenditure of projectiles by the Persians showed the Shah and his
generals that, large as was the store of ammunition they had brought
with them, it might prove insufficient, and the labour and time which
would be entailed in renewing the supply from the magazines at the
capital would be enormous. Consequently the fire became irregular,
sometimes for an hour or two all the batteries would play, while at
other times only a few guns would be discharged in the course of an
hour.

The shells that were thrown into the city did much more damage than
the round shot of the batteries. Many houses were almost destroyed by
them, and whole families killed. These, however, were for the most part
peaceable Sheeahs, and the matter in no way affected the defenders of
the wall, whose spirits rose daily as they perceived that the Persian
artillery was by no means so formidable as they had anticipated. The
Persians made no attempt to blockade the city, evidently fearing the
sorties the defenders made, and confined their operations to that side
of the city before which they were encamped. This was a great advantage
to the besieged. Three out of the five gates of the city stood open,
communications were maintained with the surrounding country, the cattle
and other animals went out to graze, and firewood and other commodities
passed freely into the town.

Throughout December the Persians were harassed by nightly attacks.
The working parties in their entrenchments were driven out, tools
carried off, the workmen killed, and the work performed during the day
destroyed, the assailants retiring before heavy masses of infantry
could be brought up to repel them. Upon many days scarce a shot was
fired, then for a few hours there would be a lively cannonade, but of
the same scattered and wasteful fashion as before.

On December 26th all the Persian prisoners who had been captured in
the sorties were sent off for sale to the frontier of the Turkoman
country. The Shah retaliated by putting to death in various cruel
manners the Afghan prisoners who had fallen into his hands. Two days
later a mine was sprung and a breach effected in the wall. The Persians
advanced to storm it, but were met with the greatest resolution by the
Heratees, who repulsed them with considerable loss, their leader being
severely wounded, and a deserter from Herat, a man of high military
reputation among the Afghans, killed--a fact that caused almost as
much joy to the defenders as the repulse of the assault. The success,
however, of the mine, and the knowledge that the Persians were engaged
in driving several tunnels towards the wall, caused a considerable
feeling of uneasiness. Nevertheless, the 30th, which was the day of
the termination of the long Mohammedan fast, was celebrated with the
usual rejoicings, which the besieged were enabled to take part in
without fear of an attack, as the day was being celebrated with similar
festivities in the Persian camp.

Shah Kamran went with his family in procession to the principal mosque,
and after the conclusion of the prayers usual to the occasion, observed
the custom of scattering sweetmeats to be scrambled for by the priests.
To their disappointment, however, he did not follow this up by inviting
them to a banquet, but sent extra provisions to the troops and the
workers on the walls. There was now a pause in active operations for
more than three weeks. The Persians laboured at their mines, but either
from ignorance of their work, or on account of the water flowing
from the moat into their galleries, no damage resulted. The Heratees
countermined under the advice of Pottinger, but beyond proving that the
Persian galleries were not being driven where they expected, nothing
came of it. But on the 26th of January the Afghans determined to give
battle to the Persians in the open. Again the whole population gathered
on the walls, and the two young Englishmen were also there.

"The wuzeer asked me this morning whether I would go out with them,"
Pottinger said to Angus, "but I replied that, although acquainted
with artillery and siege operations, I did not know enough of the
Afghan way of fighting to accept even a small command in the field.
I am useful here," he went on, "and I should be of no use whatever
outside. The Afghans have their own ideas as to when to advance and
when to retreat; besides, it might offend some of the leaders were
I, a stranger, to interfere in any way. There is no jealousy of me
at present, at least I think not. They know nothing of sieges, and
there is no one who holds any special post in connection with the
fortifications. No one therefore feels superseded. In the next place,
the work is for the most part carried out by labourers, who get paid
for their services, and not by the troops, and it is nothing to them
whether they get their orders from an Englishman or an Afghan. In
an attack on a breach I should certainly fight; in the first place,
because I consider it my duty, and in the second, because, if the
Persians get inside the walls, you may be sure that there will be
something like a general massacre."

The Afghan cavalry and infantry poured out from the gate, and spread
themselves over the open country to the east of the Persian camp. The
men on foot took possession of a village, and established themselves
in its houses and the gardens surrounding it. From the wall a view
could be obtained of the movements in the enemy's camp. The vedettes
had fallen back as soon as the Afghans issued out, drums were beaten
and horns sounded, the troops ran hastily together, and their general,
Mahomed Khan, could be seen galloping about issuing orders. Presently a
strong column moved out. It was headed by cavalry; and as soon as these
made their appearance the Afghan horse galloped across the plain, while
the crowd on the walls burst into shouts of encouragement, although the
troops were too far off to hear them.

"It is a pretty sight, Angus, but about as unlike modern warfare as
could well be. European cavalry seeing a mob of horsemen coming down
upon them in such disorder would ride at them, and no irregular horse
could withstand the impact of a well-disciplined and compact cavalry
charge. There, the Persians are forming line; but there is no smartness
about it, it is done in a half-hearted sort of way, as if they did not
like the business before them. There, they are off; but they are too
slow, they won't be fairly in a gallop before the Afghans are upon
them."

For a minute or two the contending bodies were mixed in a confused
mass, then the shouts of the spectators rose high as the Persians could
be seen flying towards their infantry hotly pursued by the Afghans.
Then came the rattle of musketry, the quick reports of cannon, as the
infantry and artillery covered the retreat of their cavalry. Presently
the Heratee horse were seen retiring from the village in which the
struggle had taken place; another body, which had not yet been engaged,
instead of riding forward to support them, also, turned, and for a time
all rode off, while the Persian cavalry were reinforced from the camp
and pursued them. The Heratees soon recovered themselves and again
charged, but again the leading squadrons were badly supported by those
behind. These were under another leader, who was probably influenced by
jealousy or by tribal hostility, and the Persian horse, well supported
by their infantry, gradually gained the advantage, their own infantry
coming to the support. The Afghan footmen also advanced, and the fight
was maintained during the whole day.

"It is like playing at war," Pottinger said irritably; "except in that
first charge they have never really come to blows. It is skirmishing
rather than fighting. Here there are some ten or twelve thousand men,
taking both sides, cavalry, infantry, and a few guns. I don't think
that when our men come in again it will be found that they have lost a
hundred, and I don't suppose the Persians have lost much more. It is a
fair field for fighting, and between two European forces of the same
strength a long day's battle would probably have caused three or four
thousand casualties. One would think that neither party was in earnest.
Certainly the Heratees are, though I don't suppose the Persian soldiers
have any particular personal interest in the matter."

The action was altogether indecisive, and at the end of the day the
Persians held no ground beyond the village where their infantry first
opened fire, while the Heratees had gained nothing by their sortie.
When the Afghans re-entered the walls it was found that Pottinger's
estimate as to the amount of loss was very near the truth; there were
between twenty-five and thirty killed, and some four times as many
wounded, more or less seriously. They of course claimed a victory, and
were highly satisfied with their own doings, but the operations only
tended to show that neither party had any eagerness for real fighting.

On the 7th of February Pottinger said: "I have received permission to
go into the Persian camp to-morrow. Kamran has given me a message on
his part to the Persian king. It is an appeal to him to retire. He
says that when Khorassan was in rebellion he refused the entreaties
of its chief to aid them, although at that time he could have raised
ten thousand horsemen, and might, with the rebels of Khorassan,
have marched to Teheran. He had sent one of his highest officers to
congratulate the Shah on his succession, and now the latter is without
provocation marching against him. He prays him therefore to retire,
to aid him with guns and men to recover the dominions he has lost in
Afghanistan, and if he be successful he will hand over Herat to him.
Yar Mahomed has also given me a message to the Persian minister, just
the sort of message I should have expected from him. He declares that
he is devoted to the Shah and to him, but that he is bound to stand
by his master. That whatever might be his own wish, the Afghans would
never surrender the city, and that he dare not propose such a thing to
them, but that he shall ever remain the faithful servant of the Shah
and of the minister whom he regards as his father. I will take you with
me if you wish, but that must be a matter for your own consideration."

"I should, of course, like to go," Angus said, "but I do not know that
it would be wise for me to do so. Mr. M'Neill may be in the Persian
camp. It is not probable that I should be recognized, still there must
be many officials there who came frequently to see him at the embassy,
and who would know me. Should one of these declare that I was a member
of the mission, it might create a very bad impression against M'Neill,
as it would seem that he was in secret communication with Kamran."

"That is just what I was thinking," Pottinger said, "and I must say
that I agree with you. It certainly would be awkward for him if it
were known that one of his suite was in Herat. Yes, I think it would
be better that you should not go. We shall certainly be the centre of
curiosity while we are in the camp, and there would be no possibility
of private communications between you and M'Neill. But should I see him
have you any message for him? I think we have agreed that when this
business is over it will be much better for you to go with me back to
India than to return to Teheran."

"Yes, I have quite settled that," Angus said. "With the kind offer you
have made to present me to your uncle I should think that the prospect
of my obtaining advancement there is very much greater than it is in
Persia, where I might be left altogether in the lurch if M'Neill were
recalled. I shall be obliged, therefore, if you will tell him of my
intention, and thank him for me very heartily for his kindness. He
will, I am sure, approve of the step, for he has several times told me
that he was sorry he could see no chance of my obtaining more than
a clerkship at the mission, and advised me on no account to think of
remaining there if I could see my way to doing better for myself."

"I will be sure to give M'Neill the message if I see him but I don't
expect to be long in the camp. I am charged with such a ridiculous
message that there is no likelihood of any discussion taking place.
The minister will, of course, scoff at Yar Mahomed's declarations of
respect for the Shah and affection for himself, and the Shah, after
taking the trouble to collect an army and come here himself, is not
likely to retire at the request of Kamran. My real hope in going is
that I may find a British officer with the Persians. There is almost
certain to be one, as the Russians have, it is said, several. Through
him I may send messages to friends at home and to my uncle in Scinde.
They must all begin to feel anxious about me."

Angus saw his companion ride out the next morning with some anxiety
as to his reception, but with no particular regret that he did not
accompany him. He had often been in the encampments of the Persian
troops before the army left Teheran, and there would therefore be
nothing new to him in the scene. Pottinger as usual wore the dress of
an Afghan of some standing, and was accompanied only by one mounted
attendant and a runner to hold his horse. A small party of Afghans rode
with him for some distance beyond the walls, and then, shouting good
wishes for his return in safety, left him. Angus continued to watch
the men at their work for two or three hours, and then took his place
on the walls again and watched for his comrade's return. It was not,
however, till the 10th that he came back to Herat.

On the previous day he was prevented from returning by a violent
storm which raged from morning till night, and considerable anxiety
was felt in the town. That he had gone on a mission from Kamran was
generally known, but none save the Shah and his wuzeer were aware of
its nature. Angus was much alarmed, as he thought it too probable that
his friend had been shot by the Persian outposts as soon as he arrived
among them, for there was nothing to show that he came as an envoy.
He was therefore greatly relieved when a native brought the news to
him that the Englishman was returning. As the news spread it caused
great excitement. When Pottinger rode in at the gate a great crowd had
assembled there, and all thronged round him asking for information. He
replied that they must enquire of the wuzeer, who alone could deliver
it. As he saw Angus in the crowd he shouted to him, "As I expected,
nothing has come of it; meet me at the house."

An hour later Pottinger arrived there. "I was getting very anxious
about you," Angus said, "and was beginning to fear that you had been
shot by the Persian outposts."

"I was a little uncomfortable myself, and I kept a good look-out, as
you may suppose. The roads led through those ruined villages, and at
any moment I might have a bullet whizzing about my ears. Presently I
saw some Persian soldiers running towards the road, and I told my man
to take off his turban and wave it to show that our intentions were
peaceable. When they perceived this they came straggling up. I told
them that I was an English officer, and the bearer of messages to the
Shah and his minister. They seemed delighted, chiefly perhaps from the
fact of my being an Englishman, but also because they hoped that I
had come with an offer of surrender. However, they shouted 'Welcome,
welcome! the English were always friends of the Shah.' The officer who
commanded the picket turned out to be a major who had served under
Major Hart, and who knew all the English officers who had of late years
been in Persia. He took me to the major-general commanding the attack,
who turned out to be a Russian in the Persian service commanding
a corps of Russians--men who had left their own country for doubtless
good reasons. At any rate, he received me courteously. We had tea, and
smoked a pipe together, and he then sent me on with an escort to the
Persian camp.

[Illustration: AFGHANISTAN

AND

NORTH WEST FRONTIER

OF INDIA]

"The news that someone had come in from Herat to arrange terms for its
submission having preceded me, almost the whole camp came out to see
me, and if my escort had not used their iron ramrods most vigorously
upon the heads and shoulders of the crowd I should never have got
through. When I reached the minister's tent he received me graciously,
but we did not enter into business; it was necessary that the Shah
should first decide whether he would receive me.

"I had learned from the Russian general that Colonel Stoddart was in
camp. As it was known before I left India that he would accompany the
Persians I had letters for him, and received permission to go to his
tent to deliver them. His astonishment at finding that I was a British
officer was, as you may imagine, great. However, I had but little time
to talk, for in a few minutes a message came that I was to go back at
once to the minister, or, as he is called there as well as here, the
wuzeer. Stoddart accompanied me. The Persian asked me what were the
messages that, as he had been informed, Kamran and Yar Mahomed had sent
to the Shah and himself. I told him that I could only deliver Kamran's
message to the Shah, and that I thought his own message had better be
given him privately.

"The wuzeer, who is a bilious and excitable little man, sent everyone
out from the tent but Stoddart and myself, and I then delivered the
message. We had a long discussion. The wuzeer declared that the English
themselves had put down Herat as forming part of the Persian dominions
in the map that Burnes had made. I said that I thought not. He produced
the map to convince me, but to the little man's intense disgust he
found that he was altogether wrong. He then appealed to Stoddart. The
latter, as our military representative at the Shah's court, replied
diplomatically that he had no instructions on the subject, and would
refer the case to the envoy at Teheran. (M'Neill, by the by, has not
yet reached the camp.) Stoddart said that he was not aware that the
Persian government had annexed Herat, as its ruler had, both with the
British government and the late Shah, been acknowledged as sovereign in
Afghanistan; so, as I expected, nothing came of the interview. We went
back to Stoddart's tent, and shortly afterwards were sent for by the
Shah. He received us with courtesy, and I delivered Kamran's message.

"The Shah replied, speaking with dignity and calmness, and stating
his complaints against Kamran, that he had permitted his soldiers
constantly to make incursions into Persian dominions, robbing and
slaying, and carrying off Persian subjects to sell as slaves; then
gradually warming up as he recited a number of such forays and
depredations, he denounced Kamran as a treacherous liar, and said that
he would not rest satisfied until he had planted a Persian garrison
in the city of Herat. Of course there was nothing more to be said. We
were formally, though courteously, dismissed, and I went back with
Stoddart to his tent, where I remained till this morning. I was by no
means sorry that the tremendous storm yesterday afforded an excuse for
stopping, and I enjoyed my day of quiet talk with Stoddart immensely.

"He thinks that if the Persians do but make an attack with all their
strength the town must be taken, in which I entirely agree with him.
He said, however, that, as the slackness of their fire for some time
past has shown, the Persians are heartily sick of the business, and
if the Shah had some really good excuse for retiring he would gladly
do so. I said that the best excuse would be some strong action on the
part of our government. He replied that he had himself urged this upon
M'Neill, and that the envoy had already written urgently home in that
sense. Of course I told him of your being there. He had already heard
from M'Neill that he had sent you here to encourage Kamran to hold out.
He asked a good deal about you, and quite agreed with me that with
your knowledge of languages--and I told him that in the three months
during which you had been here you had already learned enough Pushtoo
to converse in it freely--you would be sure to get an appointment in
India, as it was extremely probable that an army would shortly be
sent into Afghanistan to support Shah Soojah against Dost Mahomed,
especially as the latter had received Vickovich, an aide-de-camp to the
governor of Orenburg, as an envoy at Cabul.

"Of course I had heard about the intention of supporting Dost Mahomed
before I started. I know that my uncle and Mr. Burnes, who is our
agent at Cabul, are both strongly opposed to this. Dost Mahomed has
always defeated Shah Soojah, he is firmly established on his throne,
and Burnes believes that he is very well disposed towards us. However,
that is not our affair; but if there should be such an expedition it
much increases your chance of obtaining an official post. I took the
opportunity to write to my uncle and to send my report to the Indian
government, and in both cases I stated that I had received the most
valuable assistance from a young gentleman who was temporarily attached
to the mission at Teheran, and who, speaking as he did, Persian,
Pushtoo, and Arabic, would, I considered, be of great service should
any difficulties arise with Afghanistan. I said that I had seized the
opportunity of recommending you, as it was possible that I myself might
fall in the defence of Herat."

"It was awfully kind of you, Pottinger, and I am extremely obliged to
you."

"I felt that I was acting in the interest of the Indian government as
well as of yourself. The siege may last for another month yet, and by
the end of that time you will be able to pass as easily as an Afghan as
you now can as a Persian, and may be invaluable; for as we have as yet
had very little contact with Afghanistan there are not, I should say,
half a dozen officers in our service who can speak Pushtoo--probably
not one who could do so well enough to pass as a native. I myself knew
but little of it when I started, so my disguise was that of a Cutch
horse-dealer, and I passed through Afghanistan as a native of India.
Even now I do not speak Pushtoo as well as you do, having devoted
myself to Persian, while you have been working at Afghan. For your sake
I hope that the siege may last for some time yet, as it may be a great
advantage to you when you apply for an official post to be able to say
that you can pass anywhere as a native."




CHAPTER IV

A STURDY DEFENCE


Pottinger's belief that the Shah was anxious to bring the war to
a conclusion was confirmed by the arrival of the major he had met
when going into the Persian camp, with instructions from the Russian
general, endorsed by the minister, to endeavour to persuade the Afghans
to consent to the terms offered by the Shah. It was better, he urged,
for them to settle their differences among themselves than to employ
mediation. He warned them that as the English had come to India under
the pretence of trading, and had finally conquered the whole country,
they should on no account be trusted. He assured them that the Shah
had no desire to interfere in the internal administration of Herat,
the present movement was not an expedition against Herat but against
Hindostan, and that all true Mohammedans should join the Shah's army,
and that he would lead them to the conquest and plunder of all India
and Turkestan.

Pottinger was sent for privately, and consulted by the Kamran and the
wuzeer as to what answer should be sent. His advice was taken, and
the next day the envoy returned to his camp with vague assurances of
regard, and the suggestion that if the Persians were really inclined
for peace, the best proof that they could give of the sincerity of
their inclination would be the retirement of the besieging force.
There was much excitement in the city when the proposals brought by
the Persian officer became known, and many of the older men began to
argue that it did not matter much whether Kamran was called prince
or king, or whether the supremacy of the Persian Shah was or was not
acknowledged in Herat, as long as no Persian garrison was placed in
the city. The wuzeer, however, remained firm. He declared that he
had no confidence in the Persians, that he desired to be guided by
the advice and be aided by the mediation of the English, and that
if the Shah would place the conduct of negotiations in the hands of
Colonel Stoddart, he on his part would trust everything to Lieutenant
Pottinger, and would accept whatever was decided upon by the two
English officers.

"That was his own decision, and not mine," Pottinger said, when he
returned from an interview with the wuzeer. "There is no doubt that,
ruffian as he is in many respects, he is a clever man. You see, he
shifts all the responsibility for the continuance of the war off his
shoulders on to those of the Persians, for their refusal to accept
the decision of the British officer in their camp will convince the
Afghans that the Persians will be satisfied with nothing but their
destruction."

Two days later the Persian officer returned to Herat with a letter
stating that the Shah had no desire to possess himself of the town, but
only claimed that his sovereignty should be acknowledged. The answer
was the same as before. Kamran was willing to do all that was required
if the Persian army would but retire. The negotiations were carried on
for a day or two longer, but though both parties desired peace, the
one would not surrender, the other would not retire and acknowledge
failure. Hostilities, therefore, continued without intermission, and
a fortnight later the Persians gained possession of a fortified place
three hundred yards from the north-east angle of the wall. The Afghans
stationed there had made but a poor resistance, and upon entering the
town their faces were smeared with mud, and they were sent through the
city accompanied by a crier who proclaimed their cowardice.

A month passed without any incident of importance, and at the end of
that time M'Neill arrived at the Persian camp. Every effort had been
made to hinder him on his way from Teheran, and he was at first coldly
received. A week later he had an audience with the Shah, and stated to
him that the attack upon Herat was an obvious violation of the treaty
between Great Britain and Herat, and the British government would
therefore be justified in taking active measures to enforce its terms.
The Shah upon this consented to accept the British mediation.

Three days later, however, the Persians made a serious attack. Some new
batteries opened against the ramparts near the great mosque. Their fire
was this time concentrated, and the wall crumbled so rapidly that by
the evening a practicable breach had been made. The Afghans, however,
did not lose heart, declaring that they trusted to themselves, and
not to their walls, to defend the city. They had, indeed, gained an
advantage in the middle of the day. They blew in a mine that had been
carried almost up to the wall, and taking advantage of the alarm caused
by the explosion rushed out and furiously attacked the besiegers,
carrying the trenches for some distance before a strong Persian force
came up and drove them back again. So heavy a fire was then opened from
the trenches on the musketeers on the walls, that these were completely
overpowered, and were unable to show a head above the parapets. As
evening came on the Persians shouted that an English officer wished
to enter the town, but the wuzeer shouted back that no one would
be allowed to enter at that hour. The next day Major Todd, who was
attached to the embassy, entered the town. He was in full regimentals,
and his appearance excited the most lively admiration of the populace.
He announced that the Shah was ready to accept the mediation of the
British government. He was received with the greatest courtesy by Shah
Kamran, who after the interview took a cloak from his own shoulders and
sent it by the wuzeer to Major Todd, who returned to the Persian camp
with the assurance of Kamran's desire to accept the mediation of the
British minister.

But though apparently both parties had at last arrived at an
understanding, that evening the aspect of affairs became more warlike
than ever. The Persian trenches were filled with men, the bodies of
horse and foot on the line of investment were strengthened, and there
were all appearances that an assault would be made that evening; and
the Afghan chiefs were called together and each had his post assigned
to him. But scarcely had they separated when Mr. M'Neill himself
arrived. He was conducted at once to Kamran's palace, and the greater
part of the night was spent in discussion. It was nearly dawn when the
minister accompanied Pottinger to the latter's residence. As he had
arranged when he arrived that he would sleep at Pottinger's, a room had
been prepared for him, Angus sat up for several hours, but then feeling
sure that the minister would at once retire to bed on his return, had
lain down. When he awoke it was half-past six, and dressing hastily
he went into the sitting-room that he shared with Pottinger, and to
his surprise found Mr. M'Neill writing there. The minister greeted him
cordially.

"I heard all about you from Colonel Stoddart, and approve highly of
your remaining here to give Pottinger what aid you can during the
siege. I also think that you have done very wisely in determining,
as Pottinger told Stoddart you had done, to go to India. I myself
will write to the English government saying what you have done, how
intelligently you carried on your work at the mission, and recommending
you for an appointment on the northern frontier either with the army
or the resident at Scinde, or perhaps better still, with Mr. Burnes at
Cabul."

At this moment Pottinger entered the room, and he was as surprised as
Angus had been at seeing the minister at work after only a couple of
hours in bed. There was another meeting with Kamran, who placed himself
entirely in the hands of the British envoy, and said that he would
gladly consent to any terms agreed upon by him. At the conclusion of
the meeting Mr. M'Neill returned at once to the Persian camp.

To the disappointment of all, Major Todd rode in two days later with
the surprising news that the Shah had entirely changed his attitude,
and absolutely refused to submit the dispute to British arbitration,
and that unless the whole people of Herat acknowledged themselves
his subjects, he would take possession of the city by force of arms.
This sudden change was the result of the arrival of the Russian
representative, Count Symonwich, on the morning of the day of M'Neill's
visit to the city. The Russian party at once became ascendant. He
himself took the conduct of the operations of the siege, the officers
with him taught the Persian soldiers how to construct batteries, and
Russian money was freely distributed among them. Pottinger's task of
explaining to Kamran the news brought by Major Todd was an unpleasant
one; but the old man took the news quietly, and said that he never
expected anything else, for the Persians had always been noted for
their treachery and want of faith. The news, however, caused great
discouragement in the town, and it was determined at a meeting of
the chiefs that they would send to the Russian ambassador and place
themselves under the protection of his master. Meeting after meeting
was held, at all of which Pottinger was present. Sometimes he was
received and listened to with respect, and other times he was treated
with marked discourtesy.

The influence of Mr. M'Neill at the Persian court declined rapidly,
while that of the Russians became supreme. For some months past he had
failed to obtain any satisfaction for matters of serious complaint. As
far back as October a courier bearing despatches from Colonel Stoddart
to him at Teheran had been seized by a Russian officer, stripped and
imprisoned by the Persians, and his despatches taken from him. The
British resident in the Persian Gulf had been grossly insulted by the
governor of Bushire, and the Persian government had continued to evade
its obligations under the commercial treaty between the two nations.
So marked was the indignity with which M'Neill was now treated in the
Persian camp, that on the 7th of June he left it with Colonel Stoddart
and all his suite and attendants, a step equivalent to a rupture of the
relations between Great Britain and Persia.

In the meantime the pressure of famine and sickness became more and
more intense in Herat. The city was altogether without drainage, and
the stench from the bodies of those who had died or been killed, and
of the dead animals, was dreadful. But although much depressed, the
courage of the Afghans still sustained them, and when on the 13th of
June the Persians surprised the outer works, they held the connecting
passage and defended it until assistance came, when the garrison poured
out, rushed down the slope, and dislodged the assailants with much
slaughter. Another attempt on the same day at a fresh point was equally
unsuccessful, and the storming party were twice repulsed. Pottinger was
now armed with an authority that he had not before possessed, for he
had been appointed by M'Neill British envoy at Herat. The news of the
departure of the embassy, and Pottinger's assurances that this was a
prelude to war between England and Persia, had but little effect. It
was certain that the city could not possibly hold out many weeks, and
it might be months before the arrival of a British fleet and army could
influence the Persians.

Happily, however, Lord Auckland, Governor-General of India, had not
waited for instructions from home, but at the news of the investment
of Herat, and the outrage upon our resident in the Persian Gulf, had
begun to take steps early in the spring; and on the 4th of June two
transports and some vessels of war left Bombay harbour with detachments
of two British regiments and a marine battalion, and on the 19th
anchored off the island of Karrack in the Persian Gulf.

Upon the 24th of June Herat went through the most terrible experience
of the siege. At daybreak a heavy fire opened from the Persian
batteries on all four sides of the city. It ceased suddenly after a
time. Pottinger, who was at breakfast, exclaimed to Angus, as he leapt
up from his seat: "They are going to assault; the batteries have done
their work. Quick, to the wall!"

Warning the soldiers they came upon as they ran, they made their way
to the wall. Just as they arrived there another gun was fired, and at
the signal the batteries on all sides again broke into life. A storm of
rockets carried dismay into the town, the mortars dropped their shells
into it, and most conclusive of all, a rattle of musketry broke out,
growing every moment in power. Against five points was the assault
directed. That on the gate of Candahar was repulsed, and the enemy
chased back to their trenches. That upon the south-west angle was but a
feint, and was never pushed home against the western gate. The Russian
regiment under Sampson, and a strong force under a Persian officer,
pressed up to the breach; but the Persian was killed and Sampson
carried off wounded, and the troops fled after suffering immense loss.
The attack on the north-western face was similarly repulsed, but the
fifth contest was desperate. The storming party gained the _fausse
braye_. The Afghans defending it fought desperately, and all fell
at their post. The storming party rushed up the slope. The officers
and leading men were mown down by a heavy musketry fire, but after a
fierce struggle the upper _fausse braye_ was carried, and some of the
assailants gained the head of the breach.

But now the Afghan reserves were brought up, and the Persians on the
breach were driven back. Again and again, the Persians fighting this
time with desperate courage, struggled to effect a lodgment, only to
be repulsed, and fell back in confusion on their comrades behind. For
a long time the issue was doubtful; a desperate hand-to-hand conflict
raged, the assailants and defenders swayed up and down the breach,
which was covered with corpses and slippery with blood.

Yar Mahomed arrived almost at the same time as Pottinger and Angus,
for these, before coming here, had seen that all was going well at the
other points attacked.

They had observed as they came along men leaving the breach by twos
and threes under pretence of assisting wounded comrades, and Pottinger
saw to his dismay that the men were losing heart. As they came to the
breach they found other soldiers coming up. The wuzeer was sitting
down close by. Pottinger ran up to him. "You must encourage your men,
wuzeer; go forward and join them, or all will be lost."

The Afghan scarcely seemed to hear what he said. "You must come,"
Pottinger repeated loudly; "there is no time to be lost." Then he
turned to Angus: "Do what you can," he said. "I must rouse the wuzeer;
evidently his nerves have suddenly given way."

Glad at last to be free to join in the struggle, Angus drew his sword
and ran down, thrusting back those who were mounting, and pushed his
way forward to the front, shouting in Pushtoo: "Fight, men! fight for
your faith, your wives, and your children! Everything is going on well
elsewhere. Are you alone going to fail?"

The bearded Afghans, astonished at seeing this young Englishman rushing
forward in advance of them, followed him, and again the Persians were
beaten back. But although the Afghans in front had been animated by
the lad's example, those behind were still dropping off. The wuzeer,
aroused by the vigorous exhortations of Pottinger, had risen up and
neared the breach. The Persians were renewing their attack, and the
wuzeer called upon his men to fight. The fugitives paused irresolute.
The wuzeer's heart failed him again, and he turned back, his action
still further discouraging the men. Pottinger, in the most vehement
language, exhorted him to set an example. Again he turned and advanced,
but again shrank back. Pottinger now instead of entreating reviled and
threatened him, called him opprobrious names, and at last, seizing
him by his arm, dragged him forward to the breach. This astounding
treatment maddened the Afghan. He shouted to the soldiers to fight,
and as they continued to fall back, seized a large staff, and, rushing
like a madman upon the soldiers, drove them forward again with a shower
of heavy blows, while Pottinger sword in hand seconded him. Cooped up
as they were, and seeing no other outlet of escape, many of them leapt
wildly down over the parapet, rushed down the slope, and fell upon
the Persian stormers. Believing that great reinforcements must have
arrived, these were seized by a panic, abandoned their position, and
fled.

Herat was saved entirely by the energy and courage of the young English
lieutenant. Pottinger's first question was as to his companion. He
had, while urging the wuzeer to advance, caught sight of him fighting
desperately in the midst of the Persians, and he at once made his
way down to that spot. He was not long in discovering Angus, who was
lying insensible, bleeding from a number of sabre wounds. Calling four
Afghans, he ordered him to be carried on to the wall. There he bandaged
his wounds, and then had him placed on a stretcher and carried to their
lodging, taking on himself to send an order to the wuzeer's own medical
attendant to go there at once and attend to his wounds. Then he turned
his attention to the wuzeer. The mind of the minister had been almost
unhinged by the terrible events, and he was still wandering about in a
confused and bewildered way. Several of the other chiefs were similarly
affected, and were unable for days afterwards to perform their usual
duties.

The soldiers themselves, instead of being excited over their victory,
were as gloomy and depressed as if they had suffered a defeat. The
peril had been so great, the city had been so nearly lost, that there
was a general feeling that another such attack would be successful.
Their confidence hitherto had rested upon the wuzeer, and on the
conviction that their courage was infinitely greater than that of the
Persians, and they had found that the Persians could now fight as well
and stoutly as they themselves. They were humiliated by knowing that
it was to a young English officer they owed it that the Persians had
failed in their object, and that another young Englishman, scarce more
than a boy, had led their best and bravest into the thick of the fray,
and had himself penetrated beyond them into the midst of the Persians
and had fallen there. None appreciate bravery more than do the Afghans.
It was not so much that Pottinger had exposed himself recklessly to the
shower of bullets with which the Persians in their trenches swept the
spot where he was standing with the wuzeer, but that he should have
ventured to abuse, revile, and even forcibly drag their dreaded leader
forward astounded them.

All Herat felt that it was he who had saved the city, and the fame
of the deed spread through the country round, and men when they came
in sought him out and kissed his hand with enthusiasm. A deep gloom,
however, hung over the city. Even the work of repairing the damaged
fortifications was carried on apathetically. They had repulsed the
Persians, but it was felt that nothing but a miracle could enable them
to withstand another such assault. Food was all but exhausted, the
treasury was empty, the inhabitants could not be fed, the soldiers
could not be paid. But an equal amount of depression was felt in
the Persian camp. Five assaults had all failed, and some eighteen
hundred of their best troops had fallen. The loss of officers had been
enormous; the Russian general, Berowski, had been killed, and two of
the principal Persian generals. Another Russian general, Sampson, and
two pashas had been wounded, and almost all the field officers of the
regiments engaged in the attack were hors de combat.

Pottinger's position was a very painful one. The need for money to
pay the troops was absolute, and the wuzeer, when he had recovered
from the effects of his scare, instituted a reign of terror even
more terrible than anything the wretched inhabitants had ever before
felt. The soldiers went from house to house, and all suspected of
possessing money were seized and tortured. Even ladies of rank were
so treated, and the very inmates of Kamran's zenana were threatened
and had to contribute their jewels. Pottinger felt that it was solely
owing to his influence that the city had so long held out, and as he
went through the streets starving men reproached him as the author of
their sufferings. He did all that he could, but that was little. Men
of all ranks came to him imploring his aid and protection. Some he was
able to save, but for others he could do nothing. Never was a young
soldier placed in so terrible a dilemma. As a man he was agonized by
the sufferings he saw round him--sufferings he could at once bring
to an end by advising the wuzeer to surrender: as a soldier and an
Englishman, he felt that it was his duty to hold out to the bitter end.

His position became still more difficult when, a fortnight after the
assault, the Persians again opened negotiations, demanding, however,
as a first step that he should be expelled from the city. Pottinger
declared that no thought of personal safety should persuade him to
stand in the way of any arrangement conducive to the safety of Herat
and the welfare of his country, and that if these could be gained by
his departure he would willingly leave the town. But Yar Mahomed was
undecided. He felt that the dismissal of the man who had saved Herat
would be a stain on his character, and, moreover, that the Persians
having obtained his dismissal, would become still more exorbitant in
their demands. He had long expected the arrival of a relieving force of
Turkomans, and Pottinger was convinced that ere long the intervention
of England would compel the Persians to fall back. The bombardment of
the city had not been renewed since the repulse of the attack, and the
Persians relied now solely upon famine to reduce it, and maintained a
strict blockade.

In order to mitigate the horrors he saw around him, Pottinger undertook
that all who voluntarily brought in their money should be reimbursed at
his recommendation by the British government. This brought some money
in, though slowly, and July passed. Then a deserter from the Persian
camp brought in news that there was a report that a great British army
had landed in the Persian Gulf, had taken Bushire, and was advancing.
This report had fortunately enormously magnified the strength of the
British expedition, and the news gave fresh life to the defenders of
Herat. The Persians again opened negotiations, waiving the question
of the expulsion of Pottinger, but the wuzeer was less inclined than
before to yield to the Persian demands.

M'Neill was on his way to the frontier when he was informed of the
arrival of the British expedition to the Persian Gulf, and at the same
time received instructions from the Foreign Office in anticipation of
the refusal of the Shah to retire from before Herat. Fortified by these
instructions, he despatched Colonel Stoddart to the Persian camp with
a message to the Shah. He arrived there on the 11th of August, and on
the next day had an interview with the Shah, who welcomed him with
cordiality, and listened to the message from the British government.

"It means, then," he said, "that if I do not leave Herat there will be
war?"

"It all depends upon your Majesty's answer," Stoddart replied.

Two days later Stoddart was again summoned to the royal presence. "We
consent," the Shah said, "to the whole of the demands from the British
government. We will not go to war. Were it not for the sake of their
friendship, we should not return from before Herat. Had we known that
by our coming here we should risk the loss of their friendship, we
certainly should not have come at all."

In reply, Colonel Stoddart said he thanked God that his Majesty had
taken so wise a view of the real interests of Persia. But as he left
the audience, he hinted to the Persian minister that although the
Shah's answer was very satisfactory, it would be more satisfactory
still to see it at once reduced to practice. Although rumours reached
the city that the Persians were about to leave, it was not for another
week that the rumours became a certainty. An effort was made to induce
the wuzeer to make some concessions that would give a better grace
to the withdrawal of the Shah. Some of the conditions suggested were
refused by Pottinger's advice; but on the 4th of September the Persian
prisoners in the town were sent into camp, and on the 9th the Persian
army began their march back to Teheran.

It was time indeed that they did so, for they had but three or four
days' supply of forage remaining, and their flour and grain were almost
all exhausted. Their failure to capture so weakly fortified a place
was, in Pottinger's opinion, due to the fact that there was no union
of effort. The commanders of the various sections of the army acted
independently, and except when, under the command of the Russians,
they made a simultaneous attack, they never acted in concert with each
other. It was his opinion that the Shah might have carried the city
by assault the very first day that he reached Herat. He declared that
the Persians were equally as brave as and far better soldiers than the
Afghans, and that they had an ample supply of artillery to capture a
strong fortress if properly employed.

For a week after the struggle of the 24th of June Angus Campbell lay
between life and death. He had lost a great quantity of blood, and
when first carried to his room his Armenian friends believed him to be
dead. Pottinger, who had hurried back as soon as he saw that there was
no chance of a renewal of the assault, went to Kamran's and obtained
some spirits, and with the aid of these the action of the heart,
which had before been so slight that the pulse could not be felt, was
stimulated, and respiration grew stronger. Kamran's doctor had already
declared that none of the wounds were in themselves dangerous, but
that he despaired of the patient recovering. Pottinger, however, by no
means despaired; he procured some fresh meat, and ordered a servant to
make the strongest broth possible, and to pour a spoonful between the
patient's lips every few minutes. Angus was wrapped in warm blankets,
and a large bottle of hot water placed against his feet. The wounds
had already been carefully dressed and bandaged by the surgeon, for
although almost entirely ignorant as to the use of drugs, Afghan
doctors had abundant practice in the treatment of wounds.

Pottinger remained two or three hours, and then, seeing that Angus was
breathing regularly though feebly, and that the pulse could now be felt
at the wrist, hurried off to see that the work of repairing the breach
had been taken in hand, Kajar's wife undertaking to look after the
patient. For a week the issue of the struggle was doubtful; then the
improvement, although slow, was distinct, and day by day some slight
advance was made. The ladies of Kamran's zenana were much interested in
the young Englishman, and frequently sent down presents of fruit and
perfumes. Both were welcome. The air of Herat was very unfavourable to
wounds, but a little scent sprinkled on a muslin curtain drawn across
the window to some extent neutralized the terrible stenches of the
town, and a handkerchief steeped in water to which a little of the
perfume had been added, was laid lightly over the bandages.

In three weeks Angus was able to sit up for a time, and a week later
he walked across the room. His progress was now more rapid, and by the
end of July he was able to sit on a donkey as far as the city wall,
where he could breathe a purer air than that of the city, and by the
end of August he could walk freely about the town. But he was listless
and without energy. It was now certain that in a very short time the
Persians would draw off.

"You must be out of this as soon as you can, Angus," Pottinger said to
him one evening. "What you want is some mountain air. You will never
get better as long as you remain in this pestilential atmosphere. It
is enough to kill a healthy dog, and I only wonder that the whole
population has not been swept away. When M'Neill was here, he told me
that if our people interfered and Herat was saved he should appoint
me officially as the British resident envoy. He said that he was sure
the British government would send money and do all that was possible
to alleviate the misery that has been suffered by the inhabitants; and
although I would infinitely rather have other employment, it seems to
me that it is clearly my duty to stay here. It is largely owing to me
that these poor people have suffered for ten months the horrors of the
siege, and the least I can do is to help them now, for if I did not
you may be sure that any money sent by England would simply remain in
the coffers of Kamran and the wuzeer. It is said, and I quite believe
it, that a large proportion of the money wrung by torture from these
wretched people has been retained by Yar Mahomed. It is therefore
absolutely necessary, if the people are to be fed, their houses
rebuilt, and matters tided over till trade recovers, that a British
officer be here to receive and superintend the distribution of British
money. But the very day the gate is open you had better be off. You
speak Afghan now perfectly, and I am glad to see that Azim has picked
it up too. He is a capital fellow, and has watched over you since you
have been ill as if you had been his father. The question is, do you
feel strong enough to travel through the mountains? If not, there is
nothing for it but for you to return to Teheran and stay there till
your strength is restored."

Angus shook his head. "I don't think that I could stand the journey
across the plains," he said, "nor that I should pick up much at
Teheran, while I believe that in the hills I should soon get braced
up. There is nothing really the matter with me now, except that I feel
lazy. If there had been fighting going on, and there was something I
must do, I should soon shake it off; but what with the sight of the
misery of the people here, and the stinks, and the heat, I feel myself
that I am making no progress. I believe I shall be a different man as
soon as I am once out of this place and on my way to the hills. It will
soon be getting cold up there, and in a fortnight I shall be fit for
anything."

"I think you are right, Angus; I would give a good deal myself for a
few hours in the fresh mountain air. I do think that you are strong
enough to travel quietly. Of course you will have to do so, as I did,
in disguise; and indeed this will be much more necessary now than it
was a year ago. It is well known that the chiefs at Candahar have been
long negotiating with Persia, and have offered to place themselves
under the Shah's protection, and that, encouraged and pushed on by
Russia, they have meditated an invasion of India. The news of the
failure here will no doubt moderate their ardour, but from all that has
been learned from Afghans who have come into the town during the siege,
there is throughout the whole country a feeling of deep excitement at
the prospect of another Mohammedan invasion of India, and a conviction
that the whole country would rise and join the Persians were they to
advance to Candahar.

"The Afghans consider that Russian influence really means Persian
influence, whereas we know that it is just the other way, and that
Russia only uses Persia as her cat's-paw. As for the Persians, we
know now what they are worth, and that a British division would be
sufficient to smash them up. But the Afghans don't know that. They
believe that Persia is the Persia of old, and that with her aid they
could assuredly drive the British out of India. This being the state
of feeling, your chance of getting through were it discovered that
you were British would be small indeed. You must pass as a Persian
who, having long traded with Herat, has learnt the Afghan language. It
would be a natural story that, finding that Herat is ruined, and that
there can be no trade between it and Persia for a long time, you are
travelling south with the intention of fixing yourself at Candahar, and
of trading between that town and India on the one side and Persia on
the other. You can account for your not having merchandise with you by
saying that owing to the presence of the Persian army, and marauders
from Herat, and the general disturbance of the country, it would not
have been safe to travel with merchandise."

"I will certainly carry out your plan," Angus said. "I don't think
there will be any difficulty in getting through. But I do wish that you
were coming with me."

"I hope it will not be very long before I follow you, for I think there
will be some stirring work there soon."

Angus was well provided with money. He had received from Mr. M'Neill a
sum that would not only cover all the expenses of his journey to Herat,
but would enable him either to return to Teheran or proceed to India,
as circumstances might determine. In addition to this, he had received
a year's salary in recognition of the risk he incurred. He had this sum
still in his possession. The money he had brought from Tabriz he had
left at the embassy, Mr. M'Neill promising to send an order for the
amount should he write for it from India.




CHAPTER V

IN CANDAHAR


On the 15th of September Angus started, after a tearful farewell
from his Armenian friends. Their gratitude to him and Pottinger was
unbounded. The presence and influence of their two English guests had
preserved them from the rapacity and cruelty of the wuzeer, while all
other merchants and traders in the town had been maltreated and robbed,
and in many cases had died under the tortures inflicted to wring from
them treasures it was believed they possessed. Kajar and his brother
and their families alone enjoyed an immunity from persecution. Both
had determined that they would leave Herat, and taking with them their
workmen, establish themselves at Teheran or Tabriz, where the profit of
their work might be less, but they would at least be able to enjoy it
in security, such as could never be hoped for as long as Yar Mahomed
was the virtual ruler of Herat.

The period that had elapsed since Angus left Teheran had changed him
much. He was no longer a boy, for he had been doing man's work. He was
now nearly eighteen years old, and had attained his full height of
nearly six feet. His illness had pulled him down much, and sharpened
his features, and except for his lighter colour, he really more
closely resembled an Afghan than the Persian trader he was dressed to
represent. The pallor caused by his illness had been succeeded by a
deep tan, caused by his passing so many hours daily in the sun during
his convalescence.

"I am glad to be out of Herat," Azim said, as he looked back at the
walls.

"So am I, Azim. I thought at one time that I was never coming out at
all."

"It is a very bad place, master. In Persia the governors squeeze the
people a bit, and sometimes there is much grumbling, but the worst of
them are very much better than Yar Mahomed, who is a son of Sheitan,
whom may Allah confound."

"He is a scoundrel," Angus agreed heartily. "I wonder myself that the
people of Herat have not long since risen and torn him to pieces. I
know that if I had been a merchant there I should have tried to stir
them up to do it."

Azim shook his head. "They cannot trust each other, effendi. There are
many who would like to do as you have said, but there are many who
cannot trust their own neighbours."

"Then I would do it myself. Look how many old men were tortured to
death; some of them must have had sons. Had my father been so tortured
I would have lain in wait for the wuzeer day after day in some empty
house--there are plenty of them in one of the streets by which he
usually went from his palace to the walls--and as he rode past I would
have put a bullet in his head. I would then have escaped from the back
of the house if possible. No one would have seen who had fired the
shot, and I should have been safe if once away. If I were overtaken I
would put a pistol to my head, so as to avoid being tortured to death.
I cannot understand thirty or forty thousand people continuing to
support the rule of a tyrant, when one bold man could put an end to
it."

Once on his way Angus felt new life in his veins, and in a week he had
entirely shaken off the feeling of lassitude that had oppressed him in
the poisoned air of Herat, and felt equal to any ordinary exertion. As
he had expected, he met with no difficulties whatever on his way, for
on the road between Herat and Candahar the Afghans were accustomed to
see Persian traders passing, and no suspicion whatever was felt that
Angus and his attendant were other than they represented themselves
to be. The journey was a long one, but Angus did not hurry. It was
pleasant to him, after being for a year cooped up in the besieged
city, to travel quietly in the fresh mountain air. The scenery was all
new to him, and though Azim felt the cold a good deal, Angus enjoyed
it immensely. He made short stages, and never exceeded twenty miles
a day, and often, when he arrived at a village which offered fair
accommodation, he was content to stay when only fourteen or fifteen
had been traversed. As this was the great high-road of trade there
were khans in almost every village, and there was no difficulty in
purchasing the necessaries of life. Everywhere the talk was of war.

Once beyond the territory over which Shah Mahomed ruled, the news that
the Persians had failed to take Herat and had retired had excited
regret. It had been regarded as certain that the place would fall,
and all had anticipated the march of a Persian and Russian army to
Candahar, to be followed by a grand invasion of India. The mountaineers
had felt sure that the army would gladly pay whatever was demanded for
permission to pass unmolested; that they would be ready to pay high
prices for provisions and the hire of transport animals, so that they
would enrich themselves in the first place, and then have a chance of
sharing in the plunder of India, and the destruction of the infidels.
Angus was appealed to by all with whom he conversed to explain how it
was that the Shah with his great army had failed to take Herat. He was
eagerly questioned, too, with regard to Russia, a country of which they
had heard many strange rumours. Were they very strong? were they really
in alliance with Persia? were they infidels? if so, how was it that the
Shah was friendly with them?

To the first of these questions Angus could only reply that, not having
been in the Persian camp, he was unable to give them information. There
were certainly Russian generals and officers leading the Persians at
the siege of Herat. They were infidels, and neighbours of the Persians.
For himself, he thought that while no doubt the Shah wished to be at
peace with such powerful neighbours, he would be wise not to trust them
very far. He could not really wish for them to become more powerful,
and if they aided him, it could only be for their own objects. As a
peaceful man he himself only desired to trade, and left these matters
to wiser heads. But at the same time he knew that Russia was constantly
extending its dominions at the expense of its neighbours; and that,
as it was a Christian country, it certainly could not be thinking of
invading India for the benefit of the Mohammedans of that country, or
those of Afghanistan--certainly not those of Persia. Whatever the Shah
and the military officers might think, the trading classes were uneasy
at the influence that Russia was gaining, and apprehensive of the
growing power and proximity of a neighbour possessed of such immense
forces, and of ambitious views.

Two months after leaving Herat Angus entered Candahar. The journey
had been wholly without any incident of importance. The appearance of
Candahar somewhat resembled that of Herat. Situated in a fertile plain,
with a range of craggy hills at no great distance, and surrounded by
a wall, it was incapable of offering any prolonged resistance to the
attack of a European force provided with siege artillery. The town was
a comparatively modern one, being founded in 1754 on the site of an
ancient city. It was built on a regular plan, the streets all crossing
each other at right angles. Like Herat, it had four principal streets
meeting in the centre, each of these 150 feet wide, and lined with
shops. Streams of water ran down almost every street.

The town made a very favourable impression on Angus after the ruin
and dirt of Herat. As a Persian he felt at home here, for Persian
inscriptions and names met his eye everywhere, as throughout
Afghanistan the whole of the trade is carried on by Persians or by
natives of India, the Afghans themselves deeming the profession of arms
the only one honourable. The upper classes among them all habitually
spoke Persian; which language was generally employed in writing and in
all official communications. Angus put up at a khan which he learned
was frequented by traders passing through the city, and soon made the
acquaintance of several merchants lodging there. From them he learned
much more of the state of affairs than he had gathered in the Afghan
villages he had passed through on the journey. The English were, it was
said, gathering a great army in Scinde with the intention of placing
Shah Soojah on the throne of Afghanistan instead of Dost Mahomed.

Of all the blunders that have been committed from the time of our
first arrival in India, none is comparable, in point of injustice,
hopeless blundering, or misfortune, to the policy thus inaugurated in
Afghanistan. Shah Soojah was the head of the Dooranee tribe, and had
been overthrown by the Barukzyes, who had gradually attained a power
which the Dooranee monarch was unable to withstand. The four princes
of that tribe divided the kingdom between themselves, and after waging
many wars against each other Dost Mahomed, the youngest of the four
brothers, became ruler of Cabul. During these wars Peshawur had been
captured by the great Sikh ruler, Runjeet Sing. In 1834 Shah Soojah
made an effort to recover his kingdom, but was defeated, and again
became a fugitive in British India.

Dost Mahomed, alarmed at the preparations made by the Sikhs for
still further dismembering his country, and by the fact that his
two brothers, who were Lords of Candahar, might at any moment take
advantage of his troubles with the Sikhs to throw off his authority
altogether, was anxious to enter into an alliance with the British,
all the more so as he had learned of the ever-increasing influence of
Russia in Persia. Lord Auckland sent Captain Burnes to Cabul; nominally
his purpose was to arrange for a larger commercial intercourse between
the two countries. He was received with great honour in Cabul, but he
had come altogether unprovided with the customary presents, and Dost
Mahomed reasonably felt this as a studied slight. Nevertheless he
exerted himself to the utmost to obtain the alliance of the British.
But Burnes had no authority whatever to treat with him, and could give
him no assurances that aid would be forthcoming if, on the fall of
Herat, which was considered certain, the Persians and Russians, aided
by the Candahar chiefs, who were known to be in correspondence with
them, were to invade his territory. Nor could he obtain any promise
that the British would use their influence with Runjeet Sing to restore
Peshawur.

Burnes saw how sincere was the desire of the Ameer for a close
friendship with England, and wrote strongly to Lord Auckland in favour
of an alliance with him. He pointed out that Dost Mahomed was firmly
seated at Cabul, where he had reigned for ten years, that Shah Soojah
had no adherents, and even if placed on the throne could not maintain
himself there. Colonel Pottinger, the resident in Scinde, also gave the
same advice, but Lord Auckland paid no attention whatever to their
representations. A weak man, he was guided chiefly by Mr. Macnaghten,
his secretary, a comparatively young man, with great ambition and
an unbounded belief in himself, but, as events proved, with few of
the qualities required in a man placed in a highly responsible and
difficult position in India. Burnes was instructed to insist upon the
Ameer's binding himself to make no alliances whatever without the
consent of England, and at the same time he was to refuse to give any
pledges in return for such a concession.

A more preposterous demand was never made upon an independent
sovereign. For a long time the Ameer strove in vain to obtain some sort
of conditions, and at length, finding this hopeless, he threw himself
into the arms of the Russian agent, whom he had hitherto treated with
great coldness. Burnes's position became intolerable, and he was
recalled; and Lord Auckland at once prepared to place Shah Soojah on
the throne by force. Runjeet Sing was asked to join in the undertaking,
and at a great durbar held in the Punjaub, the conditions were
arranged, under which Shah Soojah was to pay a large amount to Runjeet
as well as to the British for the aid they were to give him. As if it
was not enough to have united all Afghanistan against us, the people of
Scinde, who had hitherto been on good terms with us, were treated as if
they were enemies. They were ordered to furnish provisions and carriage
for the army, and to pay large sums of money, although they had, by the
terms of a treaty with us, been guaranteed against any claim whatever
for money or services. It would seem, indeed, that Lord Auckland and
Mr. Macnaghten had neglected no step whatever that could ensure the
failure of their enterprise. When, after the war, the papers relating
to the policy that had occasioned it were published in the form of
a blue-book, it is significant that the passages in the letters of
Burnes and Pottinger remonstrating against the course proposed by Lord
Auckland were suppressed, dishonesty being thus added to the terrible
blunders of the weakest and most obstinate of the governor-generals of
India--blunders that caused not only the utter destruction of a British
army, but led to an almost equally unjust war for the conquest of
Scinde.

As far as Angus could learn the Candahar princes were making no
preparations whatever to take part in the war. The general idea was
that they would gladly see Dost Mahomed overthrown and Shah Soojah
placed on the throne, feeling certain that the latter would not be able
to retain his position, and that they would have a far better chance of
becoming masters of the whole of Afghanistan then than they could have
so long as their brother remained on the throne. Three days after his
arrival an officer from the palace called upon Angus and requested him
to accompany him there, as the princes wished to question him as to the
reasons for the Persians retiring from before Herat. On arriving at the
palace he was shown into a small chamber, where Kihur-el-Khan, with two
of his brothers, was sitting.

"I have heard that you have arrived here, and that you passed by Herat
just as your Shah had left with his army."

"That is so, Prince," Angus said, bowing deeply.

"You have come hither for purposes of trade? From what city do you
come?"

"From Tabriz. I represent one of the largest merchants there." And
he mentioned the name of a well-known trader. "When I left it was
considered certain that Herat would speedily be captured, and that
the Shah would move forward here, having, it was said, entered into
an alliance with you. 'Therefore,' my patron said to me, 'go you to
Candahar. Doubtless, in future, trade with Northern India will go by
that route instead of by sea, and Candahar will be a mighty centre
of trade. Therefore go and see for yourself what are the prospects,
and the price at which goods can be carried from the present frontier
to that city and thence into Scinde. Find out for me whether there
are any hindrances to trade along the road, what are the charges for
permission to travel through the passes held by various tribes, and the
disposition of the people towards traders.'"

"How was it that you did not turn back when you found that your army
was retiring without having captured Herat?"

"I thought it best still to go on as I had come so far," Angus replied.
"The Shah, it is true, was retiring, but he might return in the spring;
and I could not doubt that with your powerful friendship he would the
next time succeed, and the information that I should gain would enable
my patron to send off without delay a large caravan of merchandise if
he found it expedient to do so."

"Were you in the Persian camp?"

"No, your highness. An army when it is retiring is best avoided by
peaceful men. When all goes well the camp officers see that traders
are not meddled with by the soldiers, but when things are not going
favourably and there is discontent in camp, discipline is relaxed,
and it is useless for those who are robbed or maltreated to make
complaints."

"That is no doubt true, but doubtless you heard a good deal from those
who have been in the camp. How did men say it was that they failed to
capture Herat, which is but a weak town?"

"Some say one thing and some another, your highness. Some declare that
had it not been for a British officer who happened to be there the
place would have fallen in a very short time. Others say that it could
have been taken easily had all the Persian generals been of one mind,
but that each acted for himself, and that only once did all attack at
the same time."

The Prince nodded. He had seen very many times the evil of divided
counsels, and knew how necessary it was that there should be a strong
leader who could make himself obeyed by all.

"And what do people say about the Russians? We know that they had
officers there. We hear that they are a great people, and are good
friends with Persians."

"Opinions are divided, Prince. There are those who believe that their
friendship will indeed be a great advantage to Persia. There are
others, especially among the trading class, who think otherwise, and
believe that Russia is too strong to be a real friend, and that it
would be far better to maintain a close alliance with England, which
would support them against Russia, and which lies so far away across
the seas that it could gain nothing by meddling in her affairs or
taking her territory."

"But it is reported that it is the English who have now interfered and
have saved Herat, and are sending a fleet and an army to compel Persia
to desist."

"That is what was reported and generally believed, Prince, but I cannot
say how truly; I merely heard the common talk on the way."

"But why should England have interfered? What does it matter to them
whether Herat belongs to Persia or to the Suddozye, Prince Kamran."

"According to the opinion of the traders in Tabriz, England would not
have cared at all had Persia been strong and been fighting only for the
conquest of Herat, but it was known that England regards with great
jealousy the approach of Russia to India, and considers that as Persia
was certainly acting under the influence of Russia, it was the latter
who would be the real masters of Herat, and not the Persians. Then,
too, it was said--though we know that rumour often lies--that Russia
and Persia had many friends in Afghanistan, and that the conquest of
Herat would only be the first step to further advances south."

Kihur-el-Khan frowned. Such an undertaking had certainly been made by
him and his brothers, but the retreat of the Persians from Herat at
the dictation of the English, and the fact that the latter were now
gathering an army with the avowed purpose of placing Shah Soojah on the
throne of Afghanistan, gravely altered the position. They had no love
for their brother, and had a British force advanced through the Khyber
passes to Cabul, and placed Shah Soojah on the throne, they would
certainly have rendered no assistance to Dost Mahomed, for they felt
sure that Soojah would not be able to maintain himself, and saw that
there was a good chance that in the confusion which would prevail, they
themselves might obtain the mastery of Cabul. But as the English army
was evidently intending to advance through the Bolan Pass, it would
probably in the first place march on Candahar, and they themselves
would, in consequence of their intrigues with Persia and Russia, be
regarded as enemies. He was therefore silent for a minute or two,
and then said: "If the Shah has retired because he is afraid of the
English, he will not venture to send another army to aid us against
them."

"I do not think that he could do so. His army suffered very heavily."

"I hear that you speak the language of our country. How is that?" the
Afghan asked suddenly.

"I do not speak it well, your highness," replied Angus, who had thought
is possible that this question might be asked him. "Having known for
some time that I should make this journey hither, I studied for a
time with a slave who had been bought by a merchant of my employer's
acquaintance, who had himself bought him from the Turkomans in a
journey that he made in their country. But I speak it only well enough
to make my way through the country, and to obtain such necessaries as
may be required on the journey, and to converse in some fashion with
such travellers as I might meet on the road or in the khans."

"It was reported to me that you spoke so that all could understand
you," he said. "It was this that seemed strange to me that you, a
Persian, should speak Pushtoo. I will speak to you further another day."

As Angus returned to the khan, he felt that he was an object of
suspicion. Up to the point when the Prince had sharply and suddenly
asked how he came to speak Pushtoo, his bland manner had led him to
believe that he had been simply desirous of obtaining the last news
from the frontier. But this showed him unmistakably that the Prince had
learned something which had excited his suspicions that he was there
either as an emissary from Kamran, or of Russia or Persia, desirous of
ascertaining the position of affairs at Candahar, the forces at the
disposal of the princes, and the feeling among the people in general
with reference to a protectorate, or occupation by one or other of
those powers. Angus knew the naturally suspicious character of Eastern
princes. In Persia no one ever ventured to discuss any public affairs
openly. In Herat, hated as Kamran and Yar Mahomed were, no one dared
breathe a word of aught but adulation, for the slightest suspicion
of disloyalty sufficed to bring about the ruin and death of the
unfortunate man on whom it fell.

The last words of the Prince were in fact a sentence of imprisonment
to the city for an indefinite time. The Prince might not send for him
again for months. But the mere intimation that he would do so was
sufficient. He could not continue his journey without running the
risk of being pursued and brought back again, in which case he might
first be tortured to extract any secret he might possess, and then be
put to death. He might, for aught he knew, be already spied upon, and
everything that he said or did reported. Consequently, when he reached
the khan, he took care to evince no appearance of thoughtfulness or
uneasiness, but chatted with the traders there upon commercial matters,
respecting the advantages of Cabul and Candahar as trading centres,
the amount of the taxes laid upon goods in the two cities, and other
topics that would naturally be of interest to a merchant intending to
establish himself in Afghanistan.

He was under no uneasiness as to Azim. He had instructed him carefully
in the account he should give of himself, the city from which he came,
the merchants whose agent he was, the route he had followed, and
other similar matters, so that their stories should correspond in all
respects. When all had lain down for the night, Angus was able to think
over quietly what was to be done. As to remaining where he was, it
was clearly out of the question. For aught he knew, the British force
said to be gathering to advance on Cabul might be months before it was
put in motion, or the expedition might be abandoned altogether. Even
if the advance was made, it might not pass through Candahar, and he
might be detained in that city for an indefinite time. It was evident,
therefore, that he must somehow escape. The question was how this could
be managed. What disguise could he adopt, and how could he evade the
vigilance of those who were watching him? The matter was rendered all
the more difficult by the fact that there were practically but two
roads open to him, that through the Kojak Pass to Quettah, and that
to the north-east through Kelat-i-Ghilzye and Ghuznee to Cabul. If he
moved off either of these regular lines of traffic he would be unable
to give any reason for his divergence, and in any case would be subject
to plunder. Even on these roads it was only as a travelling merchant he
would be respected, and as a travelling merchant he would be quickly
overtaken by the Prince's followers.

Think as he would, no plan occurred to him, and he at last went to
sleep determining to consult Azim, in whose sharpness he had much
faith. In the morning, accordingly, as soon as he was up, he sauntered
across the yard to where the boy was watching the horses feed, and
preventing other less fortunate animals from robbing them.

"Azim," he said, "the Princes have their suspicions of me, and have
as much as ordered me not to leave the town; try and think over
some manner in which we may get away, and if overtaken may not be
recognized. I do not wish to talk with you now, because for aught we
know a spy may be at present watching us, but at mid-day I will come
out and speak to you again. In the meantime think it over. Now, when
the horses have done feeding, take your basket, go into the bazaar,
and buy food for our dinner, so that anyone who may be watching us may
suppose that I have merely been giving you orders what to purchase."

He then went out into the town, and spent the morning looking into the
shops, and asking questions as to the prices of the goods, so that he
might appear to be ascertaining what profits would be made. He also
went to several shops which happened to be untenanted, asked the rent,
and made enquiries about the accommodation. At dinner-time he went over
to where Azim was squatting, attending to two earthenware pots that
were simmering over a small charcoal fire, which he was fanning to keep
it going.

"I can think of nothing, master."

"Then to-night, Azim, after everyone is asleep, get up quietly and go
round to the back of the khan. I will join you there, and we will talk
it over together. Do not be surprised if I keep you waiting some time.
Some of these people may sit up late talking. I cannot move till all
are asleep. It is quite possible that someone who is lodging at the
khan may be watching us."

It was indeed late before the talk ceased and all lay down to sleep.
Angus waited for another hour and then got up quietly and went out. Two
minutes later he joined Azim. "Well, lad, have you thought of any plan
yet?"

"Nothing, master; unless we leave our animals and goods behind us."

"That we could do," Angus said. "I can get rid of the goods to-morrow.
Why leave the animals?"

"Because, sir, they will be looking for a man with a fair complexion,
and a boy, mounted on horses."

"That is so; but if we left the horses behind us and walked it would be
just as bad."

"I did not think of walking, master. I thought that perhaps you might
buy a camel and go on that."

"That would be better certainly, Azim. We might both darken our faces,
and in my Afghan dress might make our way easily enough, if it were
not that we should be hotly pursued, and then a man and boy, however
they were dressed, or however they were travelling, would be sure to
be closely examined. I have it!" he said after a pause. "You might
go as a woman; well wrapped up, little more than your eyes would be
seen. You might ride on the camel, and I might lead it. In that way
we might pass as natives of some village among the hills. The first
difficulty, however, is how to buy a camel. I have my Afghan dress,
and, if I were sure that I was not watched, could get to some quiet
spot, change my Persian dress for it, and go boldly into a shop and buy
a woman's clothes for you; I could then go down into the quarter where
the tribesmen encamp and buy a camel. But if I were caught doing so,
it would be almost proof positive that I was going to try to leave the
city, and in that case I should no doubt be arrested and thrown into
prison at once."

"We might steal one," Azim suggested. "There are many always grazing
outside the wall while their masters are here doing their business."

"Yes, but they have not saddles. However, I will think it over, Azim.
Your idea about having a camel has certainly shown me a way in which we
can get away if it is managed well, and I ought to be able to find some
plan by which we can carry it out. It is of no use talking any longer
over it, there is no hurry for a day or two; and the longer I appear to
be really engaged in looking for a place of business, the more careless
the watch may become."

Angus did not go to sleep that night, but thinking the situation over
in every way decided that the first step to be taken was to ascertain
for certain whether they were watched. If they were not, the matter
would be comparatively easy, but if his every movement were followed,
he could see no way out of the difficulty. When he paid his usual visit
to Azim in the morning, he said: "I want to find out if I am followed.
I will walk straight along this street towards the southern gate. When
I get to the last turning to the left, I will turn up it; then I shall
be out of the crowd. Do you keep a good long way behind me. I shall go
on for some distance, and then mount the wall and walk along there,
looking over the country. I want you to observe if any man follows
me. You must be so far off that even if he looks round he will not
recognize you. I don't want you to find out this time who he is, we can
do that later on; I only want to know if I am followed. Each time I
turn a corner he is likely to look round before he turns, so when you
see him getting near a corner that I have turned, hide yourself if you
can."

"I understand, master."

Accordingly, when half an hour later Angus came out, the lad waited for
a time, and then followed him. His master was out of sight, and Azim
walked quickly till he saw him looking as usual into one of the shops,
and then dropped behind again and followed slowly until Angus turned
off the street that he had named. Azim walked still more slowly, and on
reaching the corner saw him a considerable distance ahead. There were
but a few people about, for beyond the four principal streets were many
large open spaces dotted here and there with ruined walls of houses
that had stood there at the time when the city was far more populous
than it was at present. Angus was walking at a steady pace, as if he
had some definite object in view, and of the various people in sight
only one, who was about half way between him and Azim, was walking at
anything like the same rate. A hundred yards farther Angus turned to
the right. Azim kept on until he saw the man he was watching was close
to that point; he then stepped aside into an empty piece of ground
between two houses. Half a minute later he looked out; the man was no
longer visible. He walked on fast until he reached the corner, and saw
the man again turn off after Angus. They were near the wall now, and
the boy went forward with greater caution than before. When he got to
where he had last seen his master, he caught sight of him on the wall
some fifty yards away. The man who had been following him had stopped
at a low wall, and over it was watching Angus furtively. That settled
the point, and Azim at once returned to the khan. It was an hour later
before Angus came in. He did not pay any attention to Azim, but went in
and engaged in talk as usual with some of the occupants. It was an hour
before he came out to the yard.

"Well, lad?" he asked.

"You were watched, master. A man followed you all the way, and hid
behind a wall to watch you when you went on the wall. I thought at the
time that I might have crept up to him and stabbed him if I had wanted
to, but of course I would not without your orders."

"No, that would not have done at all till we are ready to go; and I
don't like stabbing anyhow. Still, I will think it over. Come round
again to the same meeting-place to-night; by that time I shall have
decided what to do."




CHAPTER VI

AN ESCAPE


"I think, Azim," Angus said, when they met that night "you must buy
some clothes for yourself. You may be pretty sure that no one is
watching you. You must not get them at any shop in the main street,
because there are always passers-by who stop and listen to the bargains
made; but there are some by-streets where there are a few shops. Of
course you will go into a Persian's. If you give a fair price--not too
high, you know, so as to seem too anxious to buy--I don't suppose he
will trouble much what you may want them for. You must make out some
likely story--say, for example, that your master keeps a sharp look-out
over you, and that you want to be able to go out sometimes in such a
dress that he would not know you if he met you. I don't know that that
is a good excuse, but I am unable to think of a better one. All you
will want will be a long white robe coming over the head and down to
the eyebrows, and falling to the feet; and a white cloth coming across
the face below the eyes, and falling down over the throat. There is no
occasion to buy other garments. A rug torn asunder and wrapped round
the waist, falling to the feet, so as to fill up the outside robe,
is all that will be required. But the more I think of it, Azim, the
greater appears the difficulty about the camel; indeed, now that we
have ascertained about this spy, it seems to me hardly possible to make
a start without being pursued at once."

Azim nodded approvingly. "That is just what I think, master. But I
could put a knife into him, and then all trouble would be over."

"I don't like the idea of killing the man, Azim."

"You killed many men at Herat."

"That was in battle, which is a very different thing from stabbing a
man to enable us to get away."

Azim shook his head. This was quite beyond him. "He is fighting against
you now, master. If the princes find out that you are English they will
put you in a dungeon and most likely kill you, and kill me too, so as
to shut my mouth. This man is paid to act as a spy on you. Why not
kill him? Thousands of people were killed or died at Herat. I cannot
understand why one man should not be killed, when we can perhaps get
free away if he is dead."

"If he found us escaping and attacked us, we could kill him, Azim, but
it is not an Englishman's way to kill men, except in fight."

Azim shook his head. To his mind this was very foolish. "Perhaps we
might make him prisoner, Azim."

"Where could we put him in prison?" Azim enquired, with his eyes wide
open in surprise.

"I don't mean in a prison, Azim, I mean in some empty house or some
out-of-the-way place; we might tie his arms and legs and gag him."

Azim's eyes twinkled. "I see, master, you do not like to use a knife.
Good, we can bind and hide him. Perhaps no one would come for a long
time, may be a year, and, finding only a skeleton, would not bother
about him. He would just say it was some fellow killed by robbers."

"No, no, Azim," Angus said in a tone of horror. "I never thought of
such a thing. No doubt someone would come along and let him out."

"Someone might come, master. He might come a few minutes after we had
gone, then they would catch us at once. If someone did not come in an
hour, why should he come in a week or a month?"

Angus was silent. "No, Azim, you don't quite understand me. I meant
that he should be gagged and bound after dark, and then be left in some
place a little distance from the road, where he would not be seen till
morning. Then the first person who came along would turn aside and look
at him, and he would be loosed, but we should have got twelve hours'
start."

"That would be a good plan, master. But how should we get the camel?"

"In that case we should make a start without it, for we might ride
fifty miles, perhaps a good deal more than that, before it would be
discovered that we had gone. We could do that in our present dress, and
then I could put on my Afghan clothes and go into a village off the
road and say that the horses were tired and that I wanted to go on, and
so buy a camel."

Azim shook his head. "Anyone who wanted to go on fast, master, would
not buy a camel."

Angus uttered an exclamation of disgust, and Azim struck another blow
at his plan by saying, "How would you get the horses out, master? The
gates are shut at dark. You could not tie up the spy till after the
gates were shut, and in the morning he might be found, and we should be
caught as we went out."

"I am getting altogether stupid," Angus said. "Of course you are
right; the horses could not be sent out beforehand, for if the spy saw
them going out he would at once inform his employers, and I should be
arrested. Ah, I have an idea! That trader from Scinde, who arrived here
yesterday, was saying that as he intended to stay here for some time he
would sell his horses if he could get a fair price for them. I might
say that I would buy two of them, as they are better than mine, and as
I wanted to travel fast, I would give him my two and some money for
them. I dare say he would be willing to do that, as our horses would
sell more easily than his. One can always sell a poor horse, while one
might have to wait some time before finding a purchaser for a good one.
I don't suppose really there is much difference in value between his
and mine, and he would think he was making a good bargain. I should say
that for certain reasons, which it would not be necessary to explain
to him, it must be a part of the bargain that he should deliver them
outside the city, and that one of his men should take them out during
the day and wait for us at a spot we could agree upon."

"That would be a capital plan, master."

"Then we will carry it out, Azim."

"Shall I get the woman's dress?"

"Yes, you may as well do that. We may want all sorts of disguises
before we get down. We need not talk any longer now; at any rate we
certainly shall not try the plan to-morrow. We must not appear in any
hurry with the trader, and there are several things we shall have to
talk over when I have struck a bargain with him."

The next night Angus was able to inform his follower that he had made
his arrangements with the Scinde trader. "I am to buy his horses," he
said, "and he will deliver them in the way I want. Without saying it,
he evidently understood that I wanted to get quietly out of the city to
escape some trouble. He asked a very reasonable price, but he would
have nothing to do with my horses. He said that if there should be
any trouble about my leaving, the change of horses might be noticed.
If he said he had bought them of me, and sold me two of his, he might
get into trouble too. However, I afterwards talked to one of the other
merchants, who was going away in a day or two, and told him that I
might be kept here for a considerable time, and should therefore be
glad to get rid of my horses. He said he would be glad to buy them, as
he was taking down a number of Heratee carpets and other things. So we
struck a bargain at once, and he paid me the money and I gave him the
receipt.

"I said that you would continue to look after the horses as usual until
we started, so that matter is quite arranged. The Scinde man will keep
the horses I have bought with his others till he sends them out through
the gate. When he does so, he will put our saddles on them. Now for our
plans to-morrow. I shall go out as usual in the morning; the spy will
of course follow me. While I am away make up our rugs and disguises
and fasten them upon the saddles, and take these to the new horses, so
that the trader's servant will put them on with the saddles and take
them out with the horses before sunset. He is to stop at those three
palm-trees that grow by the roadside a quarter of a mile out of the
town. Even if the spy is looking on as they go out of the yard, he will
have no idea that I have anything to do with the horses.

"When you have seen to that, you will buy twenty yards of rope for us
to get down over the wall. I shall start at about four o'clock. I shall
go exactly the same way as I did the last time you followed me. It is
a very lonely part there. He is sure to watch me very closely, as he
will wonder why I choose that way for my walks. I shall stay there
for a bit, and shall lean over the wall as if I were calculating its
depth and intended to make my escape there. He is sure to be intent on
watching my movements, and will get up as close as he can. Then is your
time to steal up. Do you think that you can do it without his hearing
you? If not, I should think that a better plan will be for you to hide
close to the way we shall come back. I shall not return till it is
beginning to get dark, and he will probably keep closer to me than he
would going, so as to better watch my movements. When he comes along
you will spring out and knock him down, and I will, as you shout, run
back to your assistance."

"I shall not want any assistance, master," Azim said confidently. "I am
sure I am quite as strong as he is, and as I shall take him by surprise
I shall have no difficulty in managing him."

"Don't use your sword, Azim."

"No, master, I will get a thick stick."

"Of course you will bring the rope with you, Azim; the twenty yards
will be ample to spare a length to tie him up with, and to reach to
the ground from the top of the wall. You may as well put enough food
for a couple of days in the saddle-bags, and a supply of grain for the
horses, then we shall not have to stop to buy anything."

The day passed quietly. Azim bought the heaviest staff that he could
find, and brought it back and stowed it away during his master's
absence, as he did not think that the latter would approve of its
weight. He considered his master's objection to his stabbing the spy to
be a weakness which he was quite unable to understand. At four o'clock
Angus started, and a few minutes later the trader's servant led the two
horses he had bought through the streets and out at the southern gate.
Azim waited till he saw him go, as there was no occasion for him to
follow the spy closely, and indeed it had been arranged that he should
not do so, lest the spy should this time notice him and perhaps take
alarm. He therefore strolled leisurely along until he neared the spot
where Angus was standing on the wall. The spy had taken up his post
nearer to him than before, and was evidently watching narrowly what he
was doing. As he might turn round suddenly, Azim seated himself behind
a ruined hut within a couple of yards of the road, and there patiently
waited until, as darkness fell, Angus came along.

"I am here, master," Azim said.

"Take care of yourself," Angus replied without stopping; "he will
probably have pistols, and certainly a knife."

"All right, master."

Azim stood up now grasping the heavy staff firmly in both hands.
Listening intently he heard a minute later a soft footstep, and the spy
passed him keeping his eye fixedly on the figure ahead of him. Azim
sprang out, and swinging his staff round his head, brought it with all
his strength against the back of the man's head, just below his turban.
He fell without a sound.

"He is down, master," the lad cried.

Angus, who had been listening for the sound of a struggle and had heard
the blow, came running back.

"Why, it was almost like the sound of a pistol," he said, as he saw the
motionless figure.

"Yes, master, I was obliged to hit him hard, because, as you said, he
might have pistols."

"You have stunned him," Angus went on, going up to the prostrate
figure. "Now, cut off a length of that rope and we will tie him up
securely."

He tied the man's legs, and then turned him over. The inertness of the
body struck him, and he placed his ear over his heart. "He is dead," he
said. "He is not breathing, and his heart is not beating. You have hit
him too hard."

"Well, I did hit him hard, master. It is a misfortune, but perhaps it
is all for the best. Undoubtedly it was Allah's will that he should
die."

"Well, it cannot be helped," Angus said, "and undoubtedly it will make
it safer for us. Well, let us move on."

"Do you go on, master, and I will take his clothes off and drag him
into this hut. He may lie there for months before anyone comes along
and looks in."

"Very well, I will walk on to the wall; don't be long."

Five minutes later Azim rejoined him carrying a bundle.

"We do not want to be bothered with the clothes," Angus said.

"No, master; but if we left them there, they might be found to-morrow
morning. Someone might recognize the man by them, so I thought it would
be better to carry them away with us for a few miles, and then throw
them in some bushes. I have got his pistols and knife. He was well
paid, master; he had ten gold pieces in his sash--here they are."

"Put them in your own pocket, Azim. I do not want to have anything to
do with them; they are your spoil."

Azim, who had no compunction in the matter, at once put the little bag
into his sash. The rope was now fastened to the battlement, and they
slid down. The wall was about forty feet high, and unprovided with a
moat. They started at once for the place where the horses were to be
waiting for them; a quarter of an hour's brisk walk took them there.
Angus made a present to the man in charge of them, who, while they were
tightening the girths, at once wrapped himself in the blanket he had
brought out and lay down to sleep till morning.

[Illustration: AZIM SURPRISES THE SPY.]

"We need not press the horses," Angus said as they rode off. "We shall
certainly have twelve hours' start, and I hope twenty-four. It all
depends on how often the man reports to his employer, who is no doubt
an official at the palace. Probably he goes once a day, though, as
there has been nothing suspicious about our movements and no signs of
any intention of leaving, he may have been ordered to go only every
two or three days unless he has news to give. Of course in that case
we are all right; but if he reports every evening, how long a start we
shall get depends entirely upon what sort of a man the official is. In
any case, he would hardly give a thought to his spy not coming in this
evening, but would suppose that I had been out till late. When he does
not appear in the morning, if the official is of a suspicious nature he
will enquire for the man, and when he is not found will send down to
the khan to see if he is there, and to ascertain if things are going on
as usual.

"When the news is brought him that the man is not there, and that we
have been out all night, he will become alarmed. He will go himself
and question the traders there, and will doubtless ascertain that I
have sold our horses. I don't suppose he will hear that we have bought
others. The trader will see that there is going to be trouble about
it, and is likely to hold his tongue and tell his servant to be silent
on the subject; and as the official could have no reason for imagining
that we should sell our horses and buy others, he will conclude that we
have made our escape over the wall on foot. That is the report which he
will probably make to the Prince, and we may safely calculate that it
will be afternoon before parties of horse are sent off in pursuit by
the Herat, Ghuznee, and Quettah roads, and will probably be instructed
to enquire for two young Persians on foot. They will lose time by
stopping at every village to make enquiries, and after going forty or
fifty miles will begin to feel sure that we have not come along that
road, but have gone by one of the others, or perhaps hidden up in some
village at a distance from the road.

"They may have instructions to go as far as Quettah; but suppose they
get thirty miles before sunset--and they certainly won't get farther
than that, as they will have to make enquiries, and will probably halt
as soon as it gets dark,--we shall have a start of nearly sixty miles
before morning, and will hide up and go on as soon as it is dark, and
shall be another thirty or forty before they start next day; so we
shall then be some sixty miles ahead of them and within from twenty to
thirty from Quettah. We will skirt round the town without going into
it, and then make down the Bolan Pass. I don't think there is the least
chance of any pursuit being kept up beyond Quettah, and we can travel
at our own pace down the pass. We shall have to lay in a good stock of
provisions at the last village we pass before beginning to descend,
and must travel at night, for otherwise we may be plundered by the
tribesmen, who have the worst possible reputation."

"How long is the pass, master?"

"Fifty-five miles long, Mr. Pottinger told me. He says that it is
a frightful place. A river runs through it, and in the wet season
anyone caught in it would be drowned, for in some places the sides are
perpendicular, and the channel is only sixty or seventy feet wide.
There are caves along there in which the tribesmen hide, and rush
out and plunder, and often kill, travellers. We must get through in
two nights, and must be extremely careful where we stop for the day,
choosing some place where we can hide ourselves and our horses."

"Well, master," Azim said after a pause, "if it is the will of Allah
that we are to get through, we shall; if not, not."

"That is it, Azim. I do not think that there is much fear of our lives.
We know that travellers do use that pass. I believe they generally pay
so much to one of the chiefs of the tribesmen, and we will do the same
if, on arriving at the top of the pass, we find that we can arrange
it. We shall want money to take us from Dadur across the plain to the
Indus. It is a barren and desolate country, and we shall have to buy
some supplies at Dadur. Coming down without merchandise, the tribesmen
will make sure that we have money, as we should naturally have sold
the goods we brought from Persia at Candahar, and must intend buying a
fresh stock in India. Therefore, you may be sure, that if captured we
should be stripped of every penny we have about us."

They rode for eight hours, and reckoned that they had made some fifty
miles. They gave the horses a good feed and lay down until daylight,
for they were now at the foot of the Kojuk, a gorge so steep and
difficult that it could not be passed at night. Just as they were
starting, three tribesmen rode up, and in the name of the local chief
demanded two gold tomauns, one for each horse and rider, as tribute for
a free passage. As the money was paid without question, they rode off
without giving further trouble. The passage was long and difficult, and
in many cases they had to lead their horses. Once through, they allowed
the animals another hour's rest and a feed, and then mounting, rode on
briskly again. A few miles farther on they halted in a clump of trees,
and slept until nightfall, and then rode another twenty miles. As speed
was of less consequence than keeping their horses in fair condition,
they turned off at a little stream, followed it for half a mile up,
and then halted in a dip through which it ran. Here there was good
grass for the horses. They remained for the rest of that day, and until
within three hours of daybreak next morning. As Angus had calculated,
they saw at sunrise the mud fort and town of Quettah standing on its
rocky eminence. They made a detour, and came down upon the road again
round the town, and then rode briskly down the Shawl valley. The
country round was rich and fertile, and dotted with villages, orchards,
and vineyards. They stopped late in the afternoon at a village near the
entrance to the pass. Two armed men came out from a hut as they drew
up. The leader said, "Our chief is master of the pass, travellers find
it wise to pay for right of passage."

"That we are ready to do," Angus said. "But does your chief guarantee
that we shall go unmolested down to Dadur?"

"The chief cannot guarantee that, he can only guarantee you from hurt
or damage from his people. He is lord of the eastern side of the pass,
but there are others--men of no account, and who own no chief--among
the mountains to the west. They sometimes waylay travellers. Our chief
punishes them when he can do so; but it is seldom that he is able to
catch them. He does all that he can, for he wishes well to traders and
others who pass along, for when ill happens to them others are afraid
to pass, and he loses his tribute. When a large caravan comes up, and
is able to pay handsomely, he furnishes an escort of twenty men or
more; but he will not send less than twenty, for a smaller party might
not be able to defend the caravan, and he would suffer loss of honour
from failing to give protection to those to whom he guaranteed it."

"We cannot afford to pay for an escort of twenty men, and have but
little to be robbed of, for you see we carry no merchandise, having
disposed of what we bought at Herat and Candahar, and sent the proceeds
by sure hands back to Persia."

As their attire gave no signs of their being men of substance, the
tribesman said: "In that case you will only have to pay one tomaun
each; that is the price for a man and horse, and the same for each
camel- or horse-load of goods; that is the regular toll."

"That we can pay. As to the brigands you speak of, we must take our
chance."

He handed the money to the man, who in return gave him a little
white-and-red flag, which he was to show should he encounter any of
his tribesmen. They stopped here all day, and purchased food for their
journey.

"I should think it would be a very good thing, Azim," Angus said in the
afternoon, "if we could engage a guide. We might break our necks making
our way down here in the dark. I will speak to those two fellows. I
suppose they are on duty here, and cannot go themselves, but there may
be others of the tribe in the village; or, if not, some of the people
here may be accustomed to going down the pass with caravans."

Angus went to the hut occupied by the two tribesmen and called them
out. "We are intending to travel at night," he said, after offering
them a packet of tobacco. "In that way we may escape being seen by
these brigands."

"It will be almost impossible for you to go at night--quite impossible
without a guide."

"That is what we came to you about. Are there any of your tribe who
would act as a guide for us? How long would it take us?"

"It would take you four nights' journey. You could do it in two stages
if your horses are sure-footed and you travelled in the day, but at
night it would take four at least. How much would you be willing to
pay?"

"How much would be charged?" Angus said quietly.

"You should have two men," the man answered, "two men who know the pass
well. Yakoob and I could go with you. We have been here six days, and
two others will come to take our places and collect tolls to-morrow,
so we shall be free. We know every foot of the pass, having travelled
up and down it scores of times. We cannot guarantee your safety, but
you would have a better chance with us than with others. We will take
you into Dadur. We do not promise to fight; when twenty attack four,
fighting is foolish. We have our horses; there are parts where the pass
opens out and the bottom is level."

"Well, how much would you charge?"

The two men talked together in an undertone, and then the one who had
before spoken turned again to Angus. "We would take you for three gold
pieces each."

"It is a large sum," Angus said; "but as I hear in the village that it
is not safe to go unless with a large caravan, and that it might be
three weeks or a month before a sufficiently large number of travellers
arrive, we will pay you that."

"It is a bargain, then," the man said. "We had best start at four
o'clock; the descent here is very steep, and it is not overlooked from
the hills to the west. Therefore, we can go down there by daylight,
and then rest our horses for an hour and move forward again when it is
quite dark. You had better buy four black blankets, to cut up and tie
round the horses' feet, so that when we are passing the bad points,
where the brigands generally lurk, no noise will be made in climbing
over the boulders or slipping on smooth rocks. It will be necessary, of
course, to get food for us all and for the horses."

"I will buy that to-morrow," Angus said. "I suppose it would be of no
use taking torches?"

"You might take some," the man said. "In some places the rocks are so
steep that no one could look down from above, and at these points there
are no caves where the thieves would be hiding, and we should certainly
get on a good deal faster with torches."

"I will take some then. Have you ever been through by night before?"

The man shook his head. "We have not. It is seldom attempted; but it
is because you are willing to travel so that we are ready to accompany
you, for the brigands would expect no one at that time, and will most
likely be asleep."

"Then, if we are attacked we must be taken prisoners?"

"No," the man said; "there are many places where the hills can be
ascended by men who know them. Should we be attacked near one of these
spots we must leave our horses and fly; that is what we should do, and
what I should advise you to do also. A man's life is worth more than a
horse and saddle. Of course in the daytime there would be no escape in
that way, for they would bring us down with their matchlocks; but at
night we could elude them, and if they did follow us we could defend
ourselves, taking shelter and shooting them as they came up."

"Well, it is a satisfaction, anyhow," Angus said, "that there would be
a chance for us. Our horses are good beasts, but we value our lives
more."

"I think they are honest fellows," he went on after telling Azim the
substance of his conversation with the tribesmen. "They say that the
Afghans have a treacherous disposition, but I believe these men can
be trusted to keep their engagements. They did not exaggerate the
difficulties of the journey as some would have done, nor did they
pretend that they would join in a hopeless fight. In fact, although
of course the actual difficulties of the journey would be very much
greater in the dark than in daylight, they evidently considered that
the danger from the other tribesmen would be by no means great."

It was, however, a terrible journey, and Angus felt that without the
guidance of the tribesmen it would have been an impossible one. They
knew exactly where the river was fordable, and on which side the pass
was most free from great boulders and obstruction, and where torches
could be safely used. But at times progress was terribly slow, their
horses having to pick their way among rocks and boulders, and taking
more than an hour to cover a mile. At other times they were able to
go at a brisk walk, and even break into a trot. Whenever they neared
spots where the caves frequented by the robbers were situated, the
horses' feet were muffled, and they were led with the greatest care.
It was indeed comparatively seldom that the riders mounted; where it
was dangerous to have torches, they walked along by the side of their
horses, allowing the animals to pick their own way, which they were
able to do better than they could have done if led.

The horses Angus had bought having made the ascent of the pass were to
some extent accustomed to the work, and not having to carry the weight
of the riders were able, save in exceptional places, to get along more
easily than Angus and Azim were able to do. Both of these had many
falls, and would have had many more had not their guides at such times
stood close beside them and rendered them assistance, often warning
them of obstacles of which they themselves were unable to make out the
faintest outline.

Several times they saw the glow of fires burning in the caverns. At
such points the strictest silence was observed. They had purchased
Afghan shoes at the village, and round these had wound strips of thick
woollen stuff like felt, so that their steps were as noiseless as those
of the horses. The stirrups were fastened over the animals' backs so as
to avoid contact with rocks; and any slight sound that might be made
was to a great extent drowned by the murmur and rattle of the rapid
stream.

The long halts during the daytime were made at points, carefully chosen
by the guides, at the foot of precipitous rocks. Fragments that had
fallen from above formed a bank at a short distance from the foot, the
greater part of the rocks having bounded outwards with the impetus
of their fall. Between the bank and the cliff there was a depression
partly filled with splinters of rock. It was, however, considerably
lower than the bank, and the men and horses stationed in it were hid
alike from observation from above and from the eye of those passing
along the valley. Here they slept on beds composed of their saddles and
rugs laid on the rough stones, their guides by turn keeping watch. As
a whole they got on faster than the guides had anticipated, and were
fairly down at the mouth of the pass at daybreak on the fourth morning
after their start. Here the tribesmen received their pay, Angus adding
another pound to the amount agreed on, for the care and assistance
given. They waited two days at Dadur to allow their horses rest. Here
they were fortunate in finding two men well acquainted with the road.
They had so far guided a party who were proceeding up the pass to
Quettah, and as they were now returning, were glad enough to accept
the offer of a couple of pounds to act as guides across the desert.
In accordance with their advice two rough ponies were bought to carry
water-skins and provisions, while smaller skins were to be taken on
their own horses, as the country to be traversed was for a considerable
distance a waterless desert. Even this part of the journey would not be
accomplished without danger, for the Belooches of the district were to
a man plunderers, and cared nothing for the authority of the Khan of
Khelat. The distance from Dadur to Shikarpore is nearly a hundred and
fifty miles across a flat and dreary country, almost unpopulated; but
as they were unencumbered by baggage, and carried sufficient water for
their wants and those of their horses, it was performed in seven days.
At Rojhan they came upon Captain Thompson, who was in command of a
party which had gone forward to examine the state of the water-supply,
and if necessary to sink more wells. He was surprised when a young
Persian trader addressed him in English, and informed him that he had
just come through from Herat. This was quite enough to assure a warm
welcome, and the officer put him up for the night in his own tent and
made him in all respects comfortable.

After hearing something of the siege of Herat, and of his journey,
he asked anxiously as to the water-supply in the villages on the way
to Dadur. On hearing that few of them were much better supplied than
Rojhan he threw up his hands in despair.

"Two or three thousand natives ought to have been engaged," he said,
"and a couple of hundred set to work to dig deep wells in these
villages. A hundred wells would be little enough for the army, its
horses and baggage animals, and its native followers. Even when they
are dug the water runs into them slowly. I have sent down my report
from here. There are only three wells, one of which Sir Alexander
Burnes sank when he was here a week ago; the others contain such bad
water as to be quite unfit for human use. I am really frightened at the
thought of what will take place before the army gets to Dadur. However,
I hear that they will not advance for another month, and that some very
energetic steps will be made to secure a water-supply before they come
along."

On the following day Angus passed several working parties who were
engaged under the superintendence of Major Leech, assistant to Sir
Alexander Burnes--for Captain Burnes had been knighted as a reward
for his services in Cabul. With the exception of these parties they
scarcely encountered a human being on the way down, except in the
miserable little villages which were situated where the soil permitted
the cultivation of a scanty crop, which was for the most part cut when
green and sold to passing travellers. Angus was heartily glad when
Shikarpore came in sight. He had learned from Captain Thompson that
Shah Soojah had arrived there with a native army which he had raised,
that the Bengal army under General Cotton, which had marched down by
the Indus, was expected to arrive there in a day or two, and that the
Bombay army under Sir John Keane was but a few days behind.

Upon entering the town he was glad to see British uniforms in the
street, and addressing in English the first officer he met, he found
that the division of General Cotton had arrived two days before.

"I have just come from Herat," Angus said. "I left there after the
siege was raised. I have some despatches from Lieutenant Pottinger,
which should be given either to Colonel Pottinger or to Sir Alexander
Burnes."

"Burnes is here. I think that Colonel Pottinger is at Sukkar, he was
there a few days ago; you will find Burnes at the head-quarters. He is
the political officer and so forth of the army; but Macnaghten is envoy
and commissioner to Soojah, and generally at the head of all political
business."

The army was encamped round the town, and Angus had no difficulty in
finding the quarters of Sir Alexander Burnes. Dismounting a short
distance away, he left Azim to look after the horses and went towards
the tent. He was stopped by a sentry, who on learning that he wished
to see Sir Alexander, called an attendant. The latter, coming up, took
Angus's name in, and reappearing at the entrance almost immediately,
signed to him to enter.




CHAPTER VII

IN THE SERVICE


"I am glad to see you, Mr. Campbell," Sir Alexander Burnes said as the
lad entered his tent. "Colonel Pottinger was asking me only three or
four days ago to keep a look-out for you. He had received a letter from
his nephew saying that you were going to travel down _via_ Candahar,
and that he was afraid that you would not manage to get through. I
myself received a letter from Lieutenant Pottinger speaking very highly
of services that you had rendered, and I understand that both he and
Mr. M'Neill, our minister in Persia, spoke very favourably of you in
their despatches to the Governor-general. How have you got through?"

"I had very little difficulty, sir, except that I was detained at
Candahar, and had to effect my escape secretly." And he gave a short
account of his journey, and the manner in which he had escaped from
Candahar and avoided recapture.

"You managed it very cleverly, Mr. Campbell. I will take you in at
once to Macnaghten, who is supreme here, for Shah Soojah is at present
little more than a puppet. I have no doubt that he will be very glad
to learn what is the feeling throughout the country as to Shah Soojah.
I may tell you in confidence that I am convinced that a terrible
blunder has been made in taking up his cause. I was, as you no doubt
know, several months at Cabul, and I am convinced that Dost Mahomed
was sincere in his desire for our friendship, and that he can support
himself against his brothers at Candahar, who have, as we know, been
intriguing with Persia and Russia. I have all along urged the Indian
Government to give him warm support and to enter into a firm alliance
with him. However, the Governor-general and his advisers have taken the
other view, and I have only to do my best to carry out their orders,
although I have strongly represented my own opinion.

"I do not think that Government has any idea of the difficulties to be
encountered. So far as fighting goes there is no doubt whatever that
the Afghans cannot stand against us, but the operation of feeding the
troops and animals will be a troublesome one indeed. The heat will
increase every day, and even the march up to Quettah will present
enormous difficulties, as you who have just descended the pass will
readily understand; but the great problem will not be how to place
Shah Soojah on the throne but how to maintain him there. I tell you
this because Macnaghten, who really knows nothing of the matter, is
extremely sanguine. I warn you that it will be as well that you should
not express any strong opinion against the enterprise. It is determined
upon, and will be carried out, and without in any way shaking his
opinion you would only set him against you and might seriously injure
your own prospects. As it is, he has much to irritate him. There have
already been serious troubles with the Ameers of Scinde, who have been
treated in a very high-handed manner instead of being conciliated in
every possible way. This alone has vastly added to the difficulty, by
rendering it almost impossible to obtain carriage or provisions.

"Then he differs greatly from General Cotton, who, since his arrival
here two days ago, has shown himself an officer who has an immense
opinion of his own dignity. As general in command he declines to take
any orders, or indeed to listen to any advice, from Macnaghten. This
is certainly not Macnaghten's fault, who, although, as I consider,
mistaken in his opinions, is very conciliating in his manner, and would
willingly avoid all friction, which can but be disadvantageous to the
enterprise on which he has set his heart. Cotton's transport is really
insufficient for his own army; Shah Soojah has hardly any transport at
all. Cotton cares not in the slightest about the Shah or the Shah's
army, and, to say the truth, they are of no great value.

"Macnaghten, however, attaches, and reasonably from his point of
view, great importance to the fact that Shah Soojah should appear as
arriving to claim his throne as an independent prince with his own
army, supported by his allies the British, and not as a mere puppet
forced upon the Afghans by British bayonets; and he is therefore most
anxious that he and his force should occupy as prominent a position
as possible. It is as well for me to give you these hints as to the
situation before you see Macnaghten, and to warn you against speaking
to him strongly of any hostile opinions as to Shah Soojah's chances
that you may have gathered on your journey. When a man has an open mind
it is well to give him both sides of the case, but when he has pledged
his reputation and thrown himself heart and soul into one side of the
case it is worse than useless to endeavour to turn him, especially
when the die is cast and the day for drawing back is past. If my
opinion, gathered from nine months' residence in Cabul and almost daily
interviews with Dost Mahomed, has been altogether unheeded, certainly
yours, gathered in a passing trip through the country, would have no
effect whatever beyond setting him against you."

"Thank you, sir, I will be careful; and indeed my opinion would in any
case be of little value. I certainly conversed a good deal with the
natives on my way from Herat to Candahar, but at that city I spoke only
to Persian merchants, and had no intercourse whatever on my way down,
except with my guides in the Bolan passes."

"Well we will call on him now," Sir Alexander Burnes said, taking his
cap.

Mr. Macnaghten's tent was next to his own, and he at once took Angus in
with him.

"I have come, Mr. Macnaghten, to introduce to you Mr. Angus Campbell,
who has just come down through Candahar from Herat. His name was, I
know, very favourably mentioned both by Lieutenant Pottinger and Mr.
M'Neill. He has brought down letters of introduction to me and Colonel
Pottinger."

"I know your name well, sir," Macnaghten said. "Mr. M'Neill told us
that you had been in his service, and had gone to Herat on a mission
to induce Shah Kamran to hold out to the last, and that when the siege
was raised you had started from there with the intention of journeying
down through Afghanistan into Scinde, in hopes of obtaining employment
in some capacity where your knowledge of Persian and Arabic would be of
service. I also understand, by Lieutenant Pottinger's last despatch,
that you have learned Pushtoo. The Governor-general was very favourably
impressed with these reports, and authorized me to employ you at once
as one of the junior assistants. I should think, Sir Alexander, that
you can employ Mr. Campbell to greater advantage than I can, as the
work of making the arrangements for the advance of the army is in your
hands."

"I shall be very glad of an addition to my staff, for as we get on I
foresee that the three officers who now assist me will be altogether
insufficient; and the high terms in which Mr. M'Neill and Lieutenant
Pottinger have written about him, and the fact that he has been able to
travel about the country unsuspected, shows his fitness for such work."

"You must understand, Mr. Campbell," Macnaghten said, "I cannot
guarantee that the position will be a permanent one, as all such
appointments in the service must be confirmed by the Court of
Directors; but I shall at once acquaint Lord Auckland of your arrival
here and of your nomination, and I have no doubt that he will himself
confirm it so far as this expedition continues, and will strongly
recommend the Court of Directors that your appointment to the service
shall be a permanent one, in view of your exceptional knowledge of
Persian and Pushtoo."

"I thank you very much indeed, sir, and will do my best to merit your
good opinion."

As Angus left the tent with Sir Alexander Burnes he said: "I am indeed
obliged to you, sir. I had hoped that I might obtain an appointment of
some sort, but I never hoped for one like this. It is the work, too, of
all others that I should like, and you may rely on me to carry out your
orders to the full extent of my power."

"I have no doubt you will, Mr. Campbell. I am glad to have one of my
officers speak Pushtoo, for although both in Scinde and Afghanistan
Persian is the language most spoken by the upper classes, it is of no
use with the peasants. In the work of digging wells, bargaining for
fodder for the horses, and so forth, Pushtoo will be very useful, for
although it differs from the language of the Belooches, it is near
enough for them to understand it; and, of course, when we are once
through the Bolan it is the language of all the countrymen."

"May I ask what dress it will be proper for me to wear?"

"As it is a civil appointment you will not wear uniform, but either
the ordinary civilian dress, or, if you like, a dress of oriental
character. I generally dress so, and it certainly has its advantages,
and favourably predisposes chiefs you may have to visit. A British
uniform they understand, but a purely civilian dress is too simple for
them, and does not convey any sense of importance."

"Very well, sir; I am glad that you have decided so. I have no civilian
clothes with me, and should find it very difficult, if not impossible,
to get them here."

"Your appointment will be a thousand rupees a month, so long as the
campaign lasts; after that it would, of course, depend upon the future
employment you might have. If you would like to draw a month's pay in
advance you can do so."

"No, thank you, sir; I am fairly provided with money."

"I have four officers employed on similar duty, Mr. Campbell, I will
introduce you to them at once; and you will, of course, mess with our
party."

Major Leech, the chief assistant, was away on duty, but the other three
officers were at once sent for. "Captain Jones, Captain Arbuthnot,
and Lieutenant Macgregor, I wish to introduce to you Mr. Campbell,
whom I have just appointed as one of my political assistants. He has
distinguished himself greatly under Lieutenant Pottinger throughout
the siege of Herat, and was previously an assistant to Mr. M'Neill,
our ambassador at the court of Persia. He speaks Persian, Arabic, and
Pushtoo, and has been specially recommended to the Governor-general by
Mr. M'Neill and Pottinger. He has now made his way from Herat through
Candahar, and the fact that he has done so safely shows that he knows
how to use these languages to advantage."

As Lieutenant Pottinger's gallant defence of Herat was the theme of
general admiration throughout India, Angus could not have had a better
introduction, and he was warmly received by the three officers, who at
once took him away with them.

"You will share my tent with me," Lieutenant Macgregor said. "I am
alone at present. You have a horse, of course, and a servant, I
suppose?"

"I have a very fair horse, and an excellent servant, who is a young
fellow, a Persian, the son of a door-keeper at the embassy. He was
with me through the siege, and I found him invaluable. He is a strong
fellow, and has plenty of courage and shrewdness; I should never have
got away out of Candahar had it not been for his assistance.

"Sir Alexander has advised me to get an Eastern dress, as I cannot wear
uniform; and I must see about that at once, for this Persian dress
would in any case have been out of place, and my journey down the Bolan
has ruined it altogether. But in the first place, I shall be obliged if
you will tell me where my two horses are to be put up."

"Your horse will be picketed with ours in our tents; our servants'
horses are in the line behind them. Is that your man over there with
the two horses? I will send an orderly to tell him to take them over
and picket them. Now, I suppose you want something to eat? We had
tiffin an hour ago, but the servants can get something for you."

"Thank you; I will go down into the town. I had something before
mounting this morning, and I own I should not care about going into the
mess-tent till I have got something to wear a little more respectable
than these clothes."

"Oh, that is nonsense. Besides, you need not go into the mess-tent.
I will order them to warm something up at once, and to bring it into
my tent. We are all wanting to hear more about Herat. The official
despatches only give us bare facts."

For the next two hours Angus was fully occupied in relating his
experiences of the siege to the three officers; after that he went down
with Azim to the town. There he bought for himself a dress such as
would be worn by a native of some rank--a white turban, a blue tunic
opening at the breast and showing a white cambric shirt, several white
robes, and loose white linen trousers tightened in at the ankle. He
bought a good supply of under-linen and a couple of pairs of native
riding-boots. For Azim he bought clothes appropriate to a retainer
of a Mohammedan gentleman. As he was unable to procure a camp bed of
European make, he bought a native charpoy, which could be taken to
pieces and conveniently carried. He had found that his fellow-officers
had each three native servants--a butler or body servant, a syce for
their riding horses, and a man who looked after and led on the line of
march two baggage animals. He had no difficulty in engaging a syce, and
let the question of the baggage animals stand over until next day.

Azim would, of course, act as his personal servant. The lad, who had
during the past year become imbued with the spirit of adventure, was
delighted to hear that his master was to accompany the army. He had,
during his stay in Herat, picked up the language, and could converse in
it as fluently as Angus himself was able to do; and although he had no
pleasant recollections of the journey from Candahar, he felt sure that
it would be a very different affair when accompanying a British army.
He expressed as much to his master, who said:

"I should not make so sure of that, Azim. We had no great difficulty
in obtaining provisions for ourselves, but it will be a very different
thing with an army of thousands of men, with an even larger number of
camp followers and five or six thousand camels. Except just round one
of those little villages, we did not see a blade of grass from the time
we left the Shawl valley, and how the animals will exist till we get up
to Quettah I have no idea. Once there no doubt we shall do fairly well,
but we shall have a very bad time on the journey, unless I am mistaken.
If I had the management of affairs, I should send off at once the whole
of the camels with a sufficient escort as far as Dadur. There they
should leave the provisions and forage they took up, and return here
to accompany the army with a further supply. No doubt it would cause a
month's delay, but it would be better to do that than to lose half our
baggage animals and to risk famine for the troops."

"I believe," Captain Arbuthnot said when Angus joined the others,
"that ten days' supply are ready at Dadur, and twenty days' supply at
Quettah."

"Certainly there were no supplies at Dadur when I came through, but I
know nothing about Quettah," Angus said; "still I think that if any
supplies of consequence had been collected there I should have heard
about it from the men who guided us through the pass."

"There were no troops there, then?"

"No, not the slightest sign of them, nor did we pass any on the march
down from Candahar; but of course the Khan of Khelat may have collected
a great force of Belooches, and if he did so, he would naturally keep
them at Khelat until he heard that the army was approaching, as it
would be an immense deal of trouble to victual them in the pass."

"I know that Mr. Macnaghten received news which induced him to believe
that a large force would be likely to march down from Candahar, and
that the attitude of the princes was altogether hostile. It is on
account of that news that we are going to advance in two or three
days' time, instead of waiting for another three weeks for a larger
stock of supplies to be collected. It was but ten days ago that the
commissary-general sent off four thousand camels to bring up supplies
from the rear. However, they will be useful for the Bombay column which
is coming up, as it is arranged that we shall collect transport and
supplies for them.

"Therefore the decision has been taken to march at once, so that we
can ascend the pass before the enemy send a sufficient force to hold
it against us. No doubt the report that we were not going to leave
here for another three weeks has been sent up to Candahar. The Prince
is sure to have agents and spies here. We ought to be at the foot of
the Bolan before it is known in Candahar that we have started. As to
Khelat, the Khan has sent in assurances of his friendship, and I expect
he will make himself safe by assuming neutrality; but the Belooches
are a warlike people, and born plunderers, and his authority is very
slight, except in Khelat and the district near it. We are sure to have
trouble with the mountaineers, but beyond having to protect the convoy
strongly, I do not suppose we shall have serious fighting with them. I
expect that we shall be sent off to-morrow or next day to Khelat and
Quettah, perhaps one of us may even go to Candahar. I know that Mr.
Macnaghten thinks that possibly the princes may not take an active part
on Dost Mahomed's side. Everyone knows that they have no great love for
their brother; which is not surprising, for he, who is the youngest
of the family, has managed to secure the sovereignty. Besides, they
would see that if they took up arms in his favour the whole brunt of
the fighting would fall upon them, for Cabul could render them no real
assistance. They are very shifty gentlemen, and though they may make a
show of force at first, it would probably be only for the purpose of
securing advantageous terms for themselves."

"I saw them when I was at Candahar," Angus said, "and they, or at least
one of them, questioned me closely; but supposing me to be a Persian
just arrived from Herat, he naturally said nothing about a British
invasion. His great anxiety was to know what the intentions and power
of Russia and Persia were. No doubt the plans that were formed were
entirely disconcerted by the Shah's retreat from before Herat. I saw no
signs whatever of any gatherings of the Afghans, nor was the subject
ever alluded to in the conversations I had with traders at the place
where I lodged."

At this moment a native officer came in and said that Sir Alexander
desired to see Captains Arbuthnot and Jones. As they buckled on their
swords the latter said: "You have told us about Herat, Mr. Campbell,
and this evening I hope you will tell us about your journey down."

When the officers returned Angus found that Arbuthnot was not mistaken
as to the probable work they would have to perform, for he was to
accompany Major Todd the next morning with an escort of cavalry for
Khelat. They were to see the Khan and arrange with him for supplies to
be sent to Dadur. Captain Jones was to remain there to see that his
promises were carried out, and Arbuthnot, unless he learned that a
force from Candahar had arrived at Quettah, was to go on there and see
to the collection of grain and cattle.

"A squadron of cavalry is going forward to-morrow morning, Campbell.
Four hundred labourers are going with it, and you are to be in special
charge of half of them. Of course, they will have eight or ten headmen,
but they will want looking after all the same. They are to dig wells
at Burshoree; the other half, under you, Macgregor, are to do the same
thing at Meerpoor. It is a thousand pities it was not done before, for
the army is to begin its advance the day after to-morrow. However, you
will gain a couple of days on them, and that is something. If you meet
Major Leech, who is at work improving the roads, you will, of course,
report yourself to him, and he will doubtless be able to advise you as
to the best place for the wells."

Angus heard the news with much satisfaction. In the first place it
meant active work, and in the second it would save him from the
slow and toilsome march of the army, which would, he felt sure, be
accompanied with enormous hardship. The four officers dined together.
Sir A. Burnes was not present, as he was dining with General Cotton and
Mr. Macnaghten. After dinner Angus related his adventure at Candahar;
how he evaded pursuit, and his passage through the pass. He had hardly
finished when he was sent for to the general's tent.

"I have just been telling General Cotton, Mr. Campbell," said Mr.
Macnaghten, "that you arrived this morning from Candahar. He wishes to
learn as much as you can tell him of the state of the pass at present,
and of the country between Dadur and this place. I told him that I had
not been able to find time to question you on these points."

"In the first place," the general said, "what is the state of the
Bolan?"

"As I only travelled during the night I cannot tell you very much about
it. The river is not high, and there is no difficulty whatever on that
score. The ground is generally extremely rough, and covered not only
with rounded boulders, but by rocks that will prove very trying to the
feet of the animals. We bandaged very thickly the hoofs of our horses
to deaden the sound, and so saved them from being lamed, which they
otherwise would certainly have been. The bandages were of felt, and
these were completely cut to pieces the first night. After that we cut
up one of the water-skins I had with me, and we covered the felt with
the leather, but even this was cut to pieces, and had to be renewed
the next night. Although this is the general character of the pass,
there are places at which, by skirting the foot of the hills at points
where the pass opens out--and the hills are not precipitous, although
everywhere steep--it is possible for mounted men to go along at a fast
walk, the stones being much smaller, and like, I should think, what I
have heard of a sea-beach, though I never saw one, at least that I can
remember."

"Still, there were no insurmountable difficulties, Mr. Campbell?"

"No, sir, though there were places where certainly not more than two
laden camels could pass abreast."

"Well, next as to the country between this place and Dadur. We know
about it as far as the edge of Beloochee Desert; what is it beyond
that? Did you suffer from want of water?"

"No, sir, at the villages where we stopped there was always water; but
there were, as far as I saw, but a few small wells, which would seem to
me very insufficient for the supply of an army and its train."

"Well, we are going to dig more wells," Mr. Macnaghten said rather
impatiently. "If the water will run into three or four wells it would
run into fifty. Now, about forage?"

"There were small patches of cultivation round each of the villages; at
Bhag more than elsewhere, as it lies nearer to the foot of the hills;
but at Meerpoor, Burshoree, and Rojhan I should not say there were more
than twenty or thirty acres of cultivated land. At Bhag I was strongly
advised to take the road at the foot of the hills to Dundeaver down
to Larkhanna, and from there to follow the Indus up to Sukkar; but
the guides said that I should be more likely to be troubled by the
Beloochees along that route, and as it was also twice as far I took the
straight way here."

"Thank you. We will not detain you any longer, Mr. Campbell, and we are
obliged for the information that you have given us."

Angus bowed and retired. He felt that Mr. Macnaghten was vexed that
he could not report better upon the chances of obtaining sufficient
supplies of forage and water. But he felt that it was clearly better
that he should give, in the plainest terms, the true state of affairs,
for when, as he was sure would be the case, there was immense suffering
of men and animals, the blame would fall upon him if he had given a
more hopeful account than the facts warranted.

Sir A. Burnes sent for him on leaving the general's tent.

"You did quite right in not giving a rose-coloured description of
the state of things along the line of march, Mr. Campbell. Of course
neither Mr. Macnaghten nor General Cotton liked it. Neither of them, in
fact, has the slightest idea of the troubles ahead of them, and both
were inclined to view me as a pessimist. However, it will not matter
to you very greatly whether Macnaghten is pleased with you or not,
because your reports will be sent in to me. This sort of work will not
last very long. I have only undertaken it because Major Garden, General
Cotton's quarter-master-general, has been taken ill. Major Craikie, the
adjutant-general, will go forward with me the day after to-morrow to
superintend matters generally. I hope by that time to have a thousand
more men for well-digging. Major Leech has gone to Sebee to cut a
dam there on the river Naree, which it is hoped will fill the small
water-courses and greatly assist us. I have more fear about forage than
water. You can dig wells and cut dams, but you can't get a crop to grow
at a day's notice. However, we must hope for the best."

The next morning at three o'clock Angus and Lieutenant Macgregor
started with the labourers and an escort of fifty native cavalry.

"I am very glad to be off, Campbell," Macgregor said. "It has been
disheartening work for some time. Somehow or other nothing has gone
smoothly since we started. Of course I am only a sub, but certainly
it seems to me that so far there has been an enormous amount of
unnecessary friction, and that the chiefs have not gone the right
way to work. I don't believe myself in this Shah whom we are going
to force upon the Afghans. Dost Mahomed is worth a dozen of him, and
no one who knows anything of the affairs of Afghanistan is able to
understand why Lord Auckland and Macnaghten and the rest of them should
ever have conceived the idea of supplanting a man who has shown himself
really desirous of our alliance and friendship, and who undoubtedly
possesses the support of a majority of his countrymen, by one who has
never shown any talent, who has no party whatever in Afghanistan, and
is a member of a discredited and fallen family.

"Still, that is their affair; but matters have been complicated by
the manner in which the Emirs of Scinde have been treated. Instead of
regarding them, as they have always shown themselves, as friendly to
us, we have gone out of our way to render them hostile, by the manner
in which we have, in absolute contradiction of the terms of their
treaty with us, compelled them to furnish carriage, provisions, and
money. Had they been a conquered country we could not have carried
matters with a higher hand. It will be sure to lead to trouble some
day, and certainly adds immensely to our difficulties. Now, the
very fact that, in the days when he was for a short time ruler in
Afghanistan, Soojah advanced all sorts of preposterous claims of
suzerainty over a large portion of Scinde, was in itself a reason why,
if we took the absurd step of placing him on the throne of Cabul, we
should have advanced from Peshawur through Jellalabad direct, instead
of taking this roundabout journey through Scinde. Of course there would
have been great difficulties in the Khyber, and we should have had to
encounter fierce opposition from the hill-tribesmen, but that will have
to be met in any case. And after installing Soojah at Cabul, we could
have gradually extended his power--or ours, for of course he would be
but a puppet in our hands--through Ghuznee to Candahar. Of course
you won't hear any talk like this among the officers of the Bombay or
Bengal army. They know and care nothing about the matter. It is just
among the men who have been employed here in the north, and who know
something about it, that there is any doubt as to the wisdom of the
affair. I know Burnes considers that the whole thing is a mistake.
Colonel Pottinger, who, as our resident in Scinde, knows a great
deal about the Afghans, says little, but I know that he disapproves
of it; and so, I think, do all of us juniors, who have worked either
under him, or with Burnes, or up in the Punjaub, and have, of course,
always taken an interest in the affairs of Afghanistan, especially
since Russian influence has become so preponderant in Persia. Well,
we can only hope for the best, and do our best in our own little way.
Thank goodness, whatever comes of it, we have no responsibility in the
affair."

"I really know very little about it," Angus said; "but I do know that
it will be a terrible business getting the army to Quettah, and that
directly it was determined to come this way arrangements should have
been made to dig sufficient wells to ensure a supply of water at every
watering-place, and to collect stores of forage and grain. I really
don't see how it is to be done now. From all that I could hear as I
came down, there will be a lot of trouble with the Beloochees."

The difficulties of the advance had already been felt. Great numbers
of camels had died between Sukkar and Shikarpore, and those that
accompanied the party of well-diggers were enfeebled, and looked as
if they had accomplished a long forced march instead of the strong
and fresh animals one would expect to see setting out on such an
enterprise. The first halting-place was Jagan. The next day they
started at the same early hour and proceeded to Janeedera. Here they
had passed beyond the boundary of the Scinde Ameers, and had entered
the territory over which the Khan of Khelat held nominal authority.
At this place there was a small mud fort, outside of which straw had
been collected for the use of the cavalry, and to guard this a small
party of Shah Soojah's troops had been posted. These, however, had been
attacked and driven off by a Beloochee band, and the straw carried
away. However, there was sufficient water in the wells for the men and
animals.

The next day's march was a long one, but at Rojhan a certain amount
of forage had been collected, and there was a fair supply of water.
The country so far had been barren, with occasional bushes, but beyond
Rojhan they had nothing but an absolutely flat surface of sand, without
a blade of grass or a bush to break the level expanse; across this
desert the party toiled on for twenty-seven miles. A little water was
carried by the camels, but this supply was soon exhausted, and with
parched lips and throats the men plodded on, knowing that until the end
of the journey no water could be obtained. Scarce a word was spoken
during the painful journey. Passing over the ground as he came down at
a canter, Angus had thought but little of it; he had done it in less
than four hours, and there was no trouble from the dust. It was very
different now. It was fourteen hours from the time of starting before
they reached Burshoree, the mounted men having to accommodate their
pace to that of the labourers, and the dust rose in dense clouds.

A part of the cavalry rode ahead, the rest some half a mile behind
the main body of the footmen. But before half the journey was done
these began to straggle, and the dust had no time to settle before the
horsemen came along. Fully half the labourers, indeed, threw themselves
down on the sand incapable of going farther, and lay there until the
cool evening air revived them, and it was long after midnight before
many of them reached Burshoree. Here a considerable number of wells had
already been dug by the party under Major Leech. The water was muddy,
and trickled in but slowly. Still it was water, and men and horses
drank it eagerly as fast as it could be brought up in buckets and
emptied into troughs which had been erected.

Although the village--a mere collection of native huts, surrounded by
a wall as a protection against the plundering Beloochees--offered a
most uninviting prospect, Angus was well pleased that he had arrived
at the end of his journey, and had not, like Macgregor, another day's
march to perform. The latter started as usual at three o'clock, and an
hour later Angus, with some difficulty, roused his two hundred weary
men and set them to work, promising them that if they laboured hard he
would allow them to rest during the heat of the day. Cheered by the
promise, the labourers set to work under their headmen. Each of these
had charge of twenty workmen; these were divided into two gangs and
worked wells close together. Angus had nothing to do save to exercise a
sort of general superintendence. The soil became much more firm a few
feet below the surface, and as the sides stood satisfactorily it was
not necessary to make the wells of any great depth. It was found that
four men only could be employed on each, two working in the bottom and
the others bringing up the earth with buckets and ropes, consequently,
the number of the wells was largely increased. After three days of
prodigious toil, water was reached in the majority of the wells, and
by the end of the fourth day fifty had been added to those already
dug. The liquid, however, oozed in but slowly, and when a well was
emptied it was two or three hours before water could again be drawn
from it; thus although the amount that could be obtained altogether
was considerable, it was still wholly insufficient for the supply of an
army. Five-and-twenty of the native cavalry were kept constantly on the
alert, for parties of plundering Beloochees hovered round, and several
of the well-diggers who, in spite of orders, ventured to wander some
distance away were robbed and killed.

The next morning General Thackwell, with a body of cavalry, a small
force of infantry, and some irregular horse, rode into the place. He
brought with him an order from Sir A. Burnes for Angus to accompany
him. The well-diggers were to remain there and continue their work. The
general had intended to stop there for two or three days, but finding
that no forage could be procured, he started the next morning early
and rode through Meerpoor to Oostar, a distance of twenty-seven miles,
where, as had been reported by Major Leech, there was a small reservoir
of water, and a store of straw and grass had been collected. Angus
stopped for an hour at Meerpoor and had a talk with Macgregor, whose
men had also accomplished a great deal of work, and who bewailed his
fate at having to remain there instead of going forward with General
Thackwell.




CHAPTER VIII

THE ADVANCE


The cutting of the dam of the Naree did not afford so much aid as had
been hoped for, for the thirsty soil absorbed the water almost as fast
as it poured out, and it was not until many days later that it began to
fill the little irrigation canals at the villages through which the
army passed. After resting two days at Oostar, the force proceeded to
Bhag, a town of some size. Here water was found in abundance, and grain
in considerable quantities, and also a supply of carrots, which were
eagerly purchased by the officers for the use of their horses. At the
various places where they halted Angus acted as interpreter, and rode
out with a small body of cavalry to villages at which they learned a
certain amount of forage could be obtained.

At Bhag, to his great satisfaction, Sir Alexander Burnes joined the
party. He had paid a visit to the Khan of Khelat, and obtained from
him stringent orders to the headmen of villages and others to do all
in their power to aid the army. The inhabitants were all to be set to
work to dig the holes, for which they would receive payments from the
British. The Khan also promised to despatch to Dadur what supplies he
could gather, but explained that unfortunately there was a much greater
difficulty than usual in collecting provisions, as the previous season
had been a very bad one, and in many parts of the country the villagers
had not been able to gather sufficient for their own needs. As Angus
had heard the same at Candahar, at the village near Quettah, and from
his guide, there could be no doubt that this excuse was a genuine one,
and indeed the officers who had been engaged in Scinde and in the
country bordering the Indus affirmed that the supplies obtainable there
were also vastly smaller than had been anticipated.

Throughout the next week Angus was continually employed in riding among
the towns in the khanate, interviewing headmen, and expediting the
despatch of convoys. He was always accompanied by a troop of cavalry,
for plundering parties of Beloochees were making their way on all sides
towards the line followed by the army, where they murdered stragglers,
captured lagging camels, and were so bold that they ventured close to
the outskirts of the villages occupied by the British camps, robbed
the natives of the moneys paid them for forage or grain, and rendered
it necessary that every convoy should be protected by a considerable
escort. After a week of this work, Angus received orders to join the
force that was gathering at Dadur. During the last two days' march the
difficulties with regard to water had disappeared. The villages had all
been situated on the Bolan river, and little irrigation canals enabled
the cultivation of a considerable tract of country to be carried on,
which supplied forage in sufficient quantity for the first division of
the army which came along.

Dadur, a town of some four thousand inhabitants, stands on the eastern
branch of the Bolan river, whose banks were fringed with high reeds and
groves of dwarf trees. The country round was well cultivated, and the
fields were covered with young crops of wheat and barley. Close to the
town were gardens, and the whole presented an agreeable appearance to
the troops, who had for nearly three weeks been painfully making their
way across country which, even at its best points, was little more than
a sandy desert. Here Angus again met Sir Alexander Burnes, who had been
making the greatest efforts to accumulate supplies at the town. His
success, however, had been very small, nor had Major Leech, who was
also at Dadur, been more fortunate. It had been reckoned that twenty
days' supplies for the whole army would have been accumulated there,
but not more than sufficient for two or three days had been gathered,
and General Cotton, on arriving there with the Bengal army, decided
that it was necessary for at least a portion of the army to advance
without delay.

Sir Alexander Burnes started at once with Major Cureton of the 16th
Lancers, with a troop of that regiment, three companies of the Native
Infantry, and a strong party of sappers and miners, to survey the
pass up to Quettah. Major Leech was sent to Khelat to maintain a
strong pressure upon the Khan, and it was still hoped that stores
might be collected by the time the Bombay army came along. The report
sent down was satisfactory inasmuch as the physical difficulties of
the journey were concerned. In spite of the fact that heavy rains had
fallen, the river had not risen sufficiently to interfere seriously
with the passage of troops and animals, and on the 16th of March the
Horse Artillery, 2nd Light Cavalry, the 13th Regiment of the line,
and the 48th Native Infantry, started early in the morning, forded by
torchlight the Bolan river, and at eight o'clock pitched their camp in
the valley, where they were to rest for the day.

The road had so far offered no difficulties, except that the river
had to be forded no fewer than eight times. The baggage animals which
started at midnight had already arrived, but the tents were pitched
with some difficulty owing to the rocky nature of the ground, which
necessitated the use of iron tent-pegs instead of the wooden ones
previously used. Fortunately, owing to the pause that had been made by
the advance parties at Dadur, and the abundance of succulent food they
had obtained there, the animals had recovered to a large extent from
their previous fatigues and hardships, and the journey through the pass
was accomplished with less loss and suffering than had occurred during
the march from Sukkar. Vast numbers of animals, however, died, and the
troops, who had started full of life and strength, were sadly changed,
many of them being utterly worn out and a mere shadow of their former
selves. The rumour that had precipitated the march by three weeks,
upset all the transport arrangements, and caused so vast an amount
of suffering, proved to be false--no forward movement had been made
by the Candahar princes, and except for some little trouble with the
marauding villagers, the march was entirely unopposed.

Once in the Shawl valley the fatigues of the army were over for the
time, but in spite of the efforts of Sir A. Burnes and his assistants,
only a very small amount of food and forage had been collected in
readiness for them. So small indeed was the supply that it was
necessary to place both the troops and native followers on reduced
rations of flour, rice, and ghee. Meat, however, was plentiful. The
proceedings of the Khan of Khelat were not of a character to inspire
confidence in him. While protesting strongly his friendship for us,
he told our officers frankly that he was certain Shah Soojah would
not retain his position for a day after the British troops marched
away; that the whole feeling of the country was against him, and that
although, had he advanced with only a native army raised by himself, he
might have been accepted, the people would never submit to a sovereign
thrust upon them by British bayonets.

Opinions differed much as to his sincerity. Those who doubted it
pointed to the fact, that although he was said to have large stores of
provisions at Khelat, he had scarcely sold any to our troops, and had
failed in all his promises in that direction. On the other hand, Sir
A. Burnes maintained that the stores of provisions spoken of did not
exist; and that in any case, having no belief in the possibility of
Shah Soojah maintaining himself, it was but natural that he should hang
back until he saw how matters went, for if he were to give any active
aid to the British he would be considered a traitor by his countrymen,
and would imperil his khanate and his life when our protection was
withdrawn from him. The question was never satisfactorily cleared up.
Some of those who took part in the proceedings and wrote on the subject
regarded him as a very ill-used man, while others considered the
measures afterwards taken against him as being fully justified by his
conduct.

As it was absolutely necessary that food should be obtained, parties
were sent into the villages and a rigorous search instituted, and in
this way a considerable quantity of hidden grain was discovered. This
was taken and paid for at the market price. In Quettah itself one very
large store was found and taken up for the use of the army.

The climate was pleasant, and in spite of reduced rations the men
benefited by the halt, which was not without its excitement, for large
bands of plunderers hovered round, attacks were frequently made upon
parties going out with camels to graze, and expeditions to punish the
villages to which the marauders belonged were undertaken. At length
General Sir John Keane, who was in command of the whole expedition,
arrived at Quettah, to the satisfaction of the army, for it was
thought that some decision must now be arrived at. It was evident to
all that, unless something were done, famine would ere long stare
them in the face. The European troops could indeed exist upon meat,
but the native troops and camp followers, the greater portion of whom
were not meat-eaters, were already in sore distress, the supply of
grain and rice barely sufficing to keep life together. The hope was
justified. As soon as the general arrived the heads of the departments
were assembled and arrangements were made for an advance. The greater
portion of the Bombay army arrived soon after their commander, and
although the men were still weakened by privation the army was in most
respects perfectly capable of carrying out the work successfully. There
was, however, one serious drawback which threatened to destroy their
efficiency: the horses of the cavalry and artillery and the animals of
the transport were so weakened by want of grain and hay that they were
altogether unfit for hard work.

It was upon the 7th of April that the army moved forward, seven
weeks having elapsed since they started from Shikarpore. The
march to Candahar was long and painful, several passes had to be
traversed, food became more and more scarce, and hundreds of animals
died daily. Beloochee plunderers during the first portion of the
journey, and Afghan raiders during the second, hung along the line of
march, murdering all who straggled, capturing camels, at times even
threatening an attack in force. They were able to do this, as our
cavalry horses were so broken down that they could scarcely proceed
beyond a walk. The Candahar princes with a large following came out to
give battle; but Hajee Khan Kakur, one of the leading chiefs, had been
bribed by our political officers, and deserting, came into our camp
with a large body of followers, and this so disheartened the princes,
and excited so much fear among them of further treachery, that they
withdrew at once to Candahar, and a few hours after their arrival there
took the northern road. After immense suffering from want of water
and food, the army entered the city on the 26th of April, Shah Soojah
having gone on with Hajee Kakur and made a formal entry into the town
two days previously.

Angus had had little to do during the march from Quettah. The chances
of obtaining forage or food at the deserted villages near the line
of march were so small that Sir John Keane decided that it would be
useless to endeavour to obtain anything there, especially as an officer
leaving the main body had to be accompanied by a strong escort to
protect him from the bands of marauders, and it was deemed inadvisable
to give the horses any work that could be avoided. Angus's own animal,
being accustomed to the country, suffered less than those from the
plains, and in order to spare it as much as possible, and keep it in
such a condition that it would be fit for work were he ordered to make
any expedition, he generally walked by its side the greater part of the
day, preferring this, indeed, to sitting on horseback and moving at the
snail's pace necessitated by the difficulties of the road and the slow
progress of the weakened animals of the baggage train. Among these the
mortality had been terrible, and one writer estimated that no fewer
than thirty thousand transport animals died on the road between Sukkar
and Candahar.

Shah Soojah had at first established himself in his camp outside
the city, but two days after the arrival of the army he took up his
abode at the palace. He was accompanied by his own officials and by
Macnaghten and Burnes and their assistants.

"What are you smiling at, Campbell?" Lieutenant Macgregor, who had been
his companion and tent-fellow since they left Dadur, asked as they rode
together into the city.

"I am thinking of the difference between my position in this
procession, and the fact that I am going to take up my quarters in the
palace, and the position I occupied when I was last here--a pretended
trader, suspected and watched, and obliged to escape by night."

"Yes, it is a change, certainly," Macgregor said, "and one for the
better, though, after what we have gone through and all we may have
to go through before we leave this wretched country, I don't think
it would be safe to assert that it is less dangerous now than it was
then. From the time we left Shikarpore till we arrived here three days
ago, we have never had a decent meal, we have practically never had
enough to eat, we have suffered horribly from thirst, we have never
dared to ride a hundred yards beyond the column or camp; we have lived,
in fact, dogs' lives--not the life of a respectable dog in England,
but of a starving cur in an Indian bazaar. We don't know much about
the future; I don't suppose we shall suffer from hunger and thirst as
we have done, but our dangers of other kinds will certainly not be
abated. Everything looks smooth enough here. I don't think there is any
enthusiasm at all for Soojah, but there is no doubt that the princes
were hated, and the people heartily glad to be rid of them. I fancy
that we shall not have much difficulty in reaching Cabul. They say
Ghuznee is a strong place, but we have taken scores of places in India
that the natives considered impregnable. Still, considering the way in
which these marauding Afghans hover round us, I think we shall have a
very uncomfortable time of it."

As the soldiers were not at first allowed to enter the city, the
merchants there speedily established a temporary bazaar outside
the walls. Here vendors of rose-water, of sherbet, and of a drink
concocted of the juice of fruits, took up their stalls. People from the
country round brought in loads of lucerne, wheat, barley, wood, and
chopped straw. Other merchants displayed posteens, pelisses made of
sheep-skins, with the wool inside and embroidered outside with blue,
red, and yellow thread; fowls, sheep, onions, milk, tobacco, and spices
were also on sale, and before long the horse-dealers of Herat brought
down large numbers of good animals, which were eagerly bought up by
officers who had lost their chargers. As soon as the soldiers were
allowed to enter the town they poured into it. Wheaten cakes, cooked
meat, and mulberries tempted their appetite, and a little later plums
and apricots were brought in in great profusion.

The scenes in the streets were very amusing. The British soldiers and
Sepoys with their large variety of uniforms mingled with the people of
the town and country round. Some of these wore long cloaks of chintz or
woollen cloth, with large turbans; their hair, beards, and moustaches
being allowed to grow very long, and the beards being dyed red. Others
were closely shaven, and dressed in jackets and trousers of blue linen,
and tunics of brown cloth with long hanging sleeves, their heads being
protected by skull-caps of various colours.

With May the heat, which already had been great, became even more
oppressive. Water was abundant, but the troops and camp followers were
still on short rations of food. The price of grain was enormously high,
and there was no chance of the magazines being replenished until the
fields were ripe for harvest.

It was not until nearly three weeks after possession was taken of the
capital that a force was despatched under Brigadier Sale in pursuit of
the princes--a grievous mistake; for Shah Soojah had entered Candahar
on the day they left, and as they were greatly encumbered by their
baggage train, the ladies of the harems, and a host of camp followers,
they might easily have been overtaken; whereas, after their escape,
they became the centre of intrigues against the Ameer.

In June the harvest ripened, large quantities of grain were bought up
by the commissariat, and preparations began for the advance to Cabul.
Candahar was quiet and apathetic. So far no signs were visible of any
enthusiasm for their new ruler among the people. Not only did none
of the neighbouring chiefs come in to pay their allegiance, but the
Shah's orders were everywhere disregarded. Marauding bands harassed and
sometimes attacked convoys coming up; and even close to the city it
was dangerous for the soldiers to move many hundred yards beyond the
limits of their camps. The health of the troops was far from good. The
plains of Candahar, fertile as they are, are unhealthy, as water can be
found everywhere six or seven feet below the surface. The native troops
suffered comparatively little, but the European soldiers were attacked
by dysentery, jaundice, and fever, and large numbers were carried off
by these diseases.

At the end of June the necessary amount of grain was accumulated by
the arrival of a large caravan from Mooltan. The army was now to cut
itself entirely free from its former lines of supplies, and would have
to depend solely, upon the country for food, as the ever-increasing
boldness of the Beloochees in the Bolan Pass, and of the Afghan
marauders between Quettah and Candahar, had made it impossible for
convoys, unless very strongly guarded, to make their way up.

The advance began at two o'clock on the morning of the 28th, and four
hours later, after passing through a fertile district, the troops
encamped at the village of Killa Azim. Here they obtained barley for
their animals, and peasants from other villages brought in an abundance
of chopped straw for the camels. At midnight the trumpet sounded, and
an hour later the army moved forward again as far as Kheil. Four days'
further march brought them to Kelat-i-Ghilzye, the chief town of the
Ghilzye tribes. Two or three hundred of their horsemen galloped away as
the troops approached.

Marching ten miles a day, the army followed the valley of the Turnak,
which afforded an ample supply of water for all their needs. The
country was mountainous and desolate, the dreariness being only broken
by small villages with their orchards and patches of cultivated ground.
Grain was brought in in abundance. The force was now far above the
plain, the heat ceased to be oppressive even in the middle of the day,
and the mornings and evenings were delightfully cool. Nevertheless, the
number of sick increased, owing to the bad quality of the flour and the
absence of vegetables. The country now became more thickly populated,
little villages, with the fortified dwellings of their chiefs, being
thickly scattered about. The hostile tribesmen followed the march
on both flanks, and many skirmishes took place; on one occasion the
Ghilzye marauders made an attack on the line of march, but were driven
off with heavy loss. On the 17th a nephew of the Ameer rode in with
fifteen followers. He had gone to Ghuznee with his brother to aid in
its defence, but suspicions being entertained by Mohummed Hyder, the
governor, of their fidelity, his brother was seized and put to death,
and he himself only escaped a similar fate by flight.

As they approached Ghuznee, Sir Alexander Burnes said to Angus: "Mr.
Campbell, I shall be glad if you will resume your Afghan costume and
ride to-morrow at daybreak with a party of six of Hajee Khan Kakur's
men, and ascertain whether the enemy are in strength outside the
fortress and intend to oppose our approach. If they do, we shall leave
the baggage here under a strong guard and proceed to attack them. If
they retire into the fortress, we shall advance as we have been doing,
for possibly the siege may last some time, and it would be as well
to take our ammunition and stores with us. Will you undertake that
mission? I do not wish you, of course, to approach the enemy very
closely. They will naturally take you for a party coming to join them,
and will pay no attention to you. Half a mile will be near enough for
you to go to the fortress. The disguise is only necessary because they
too may have parties out, and should any come suddenly upon you, you
would pass without suspicion or question; and indeed should you be
stopped, your knowledge of the language is quite good enough to pass in
any case. I have requested Hajee Khan to choose well-mounted men. We
shall remain here to-morrow, and the general will send out a troop of
cavalry to meet you on your return half-way between this and Ghuznee,
so that should you be pursued, you will know that you will meet with
succour before going many miles. The fortress itself is some twelve
miles from this camp."

"I will undertake it willingly, Sir Alexander."

Accordingly on the following morning Angus set out. Azim asked leave to
accompany him, but he refused.

"Your horse is not a very fast one," he said. "It is a good beast, but
we may have to ride for our lives, and you would soon be left behind.
It is not a dangerous expedition, but in a country like this there is
always the possibility of a surprise."

After riding for two miles the fortress of Ghuznee was seen. It was
situated on a high rock and surrounded by a wall of great height and
strength, and was regarded by the Afghans as absolutely impregnable. As
they approached, and could make out the strength of the fortifications,
it seemed to Angus that, except by famine, it would be next to
impossible to capture it. The general had left the few heavy cannon
he had brought with him at Candahar because of the extreme difficulty
of getting transport, and the light field-pieces could make but small
impression indeed on these massive walls. When he approached within a
mile he halted. There were no signs of any Afghan force in front of it.
It was, of course, possible that they might sally out when they saw the
army approaching, but at present there was nothing to show that they
meant to do so. He was about to turn, when he was suddenly seized from
behind, and in a moment his hands were bound tightly to his side by the
sashes of two of his escort. The Afghans burst into a shout of triumph.

"Infidel dog," one said, "did you think because Hajee Khan Kakur is a
traitor that all his men are also. You came to see Ghuznee. You shall
see the inside as well as the outside."

Angus was brave, but a shudder ran through him as he thought of the
fate that awaited him. The Afghans never spared those who fell into
their hands, and fortunate were those who were speedily killed, for
in many cases they were tortured before they were done to death. It
had never occurred to him to doubt for a moment the good faith of
the men who accompanied him; and yet, now he thought over it, such a
possibility should have been foreseen, since there was no reason why
the men should be traitors to their race, although for the moment
they had obeyed their commander's orders and ridden with him into the
British camp. They might even have remained faithful to him had not
this opportunity of rejoining their countrymen presented itself. Even
in the midst of his own deadly peril he was glad to think that, by his
refusal to allow Azim to accompany him, he had saved him from the fate
that awaited himself.

He knew well that no entreaties would avail to soften the heart of the
Afghan commander, and determined that, whatever came, he would maintain
a firm countenance and meet his fate bravely. The gate of the fortress
stood open. The men as they entered said a few words to the guards
stationed there.

"We were forced," they said, "to accompany the traitor Hajee Khan Kakur
to the camp of the infidel, but we have taken the first opportunity
to desert, and have brought with us this man, who is one of their
officers, as a prisoner."

"Why trouble to bring him as a prisoner?"

"We thought that Mohummed Hyder would like to question him, and are
bringing him here to show that we are true men."

Climbing a steep road, they entered a great courtyard. Here they
dismounted, and their leader, a sub-officer, went forward to the
governor's house, followed by two others, between whom Angus walked.
The leader entered, the others remained outside until he returned.

"Follow me with the captive," he said, "Mohummed Hyder will speak to
him."

A minute later Angus stood before the governor. He was seated on a
divan, and several other chiefs of importance were standing or sitting
round.

"They tell me," the governor said, "that you can speak our tongue?"

"I can do so," Angus said quietly.

"Where did you learn it?"

"In Herat, where I fought during the siege, against the Persians."

"And now you come hither as a spy?"

"Not as a spy. I came here only to view the fortress from a distance."

"Is it true that the kafirs are bringing no big guns with them?"

As the governor was doubtless well informed as to the strength of the
British army and the number of its guns, Angus felt that there could be
no harm in answering the question.

"They are not," he said.

"How do they intend to take Ghuznee? Will they fly over the walls or
burrow through the rock?" the governor said scoffingly. "Are they
madmen, who think they can tear down the walls of Ghuznee with their
finger-nails?"

"I know nothing of the plans of the general," Angus replied. "But the
British have taken many strong places in India when it seemed that it
could not be done."

"They will not take Ghuznee. When the first shot is fired at its walls
we will throw over to them your head and your limbs, to show that we
despise them and mock their foolish effort. Take him away, Yakoob. Do
you see him safely bestowed."

Angus was led to a cell in one of the turrets on the wall. His weapons
had been taken from him when he was first captured, and when he
reached the prison his arms were unbound by the leader of the band,
who carried off the sashes to the men to whom they belonged. A massive
door was closed behind them, and Angus heard two heavy bolts shot--a
proof that the tower was often used as a prison. Listening, he heard
another door at the foot of the turret closed and bolted. The window
was a mere loophole, but it commanded a view of the road by which he
had been brought up. The cell was circular in shape, and some ten feet
in diameter; it was absolutely bare. Angus stood for some little time
looking through the loophole. It was three feet wide on the inner side,
but narrowed to six inches at the outlet; the wall was more than two
feet thick, and of solid stone.

"It is evident that there is no possibility of escape," he said aloud
as he turned away from the loophole. "Even if I could widen the hole so
to be able to creep through, there is a fall of a hundred feet or so;
and there is nothing of which a rope could be made. I have my knife,"
he said, "fortunately they did not think of looking in my pockets; but
though it has a good long blade, and I might at the end sell my life as
dearly as possible, and force them to kill me, it can be of no earthly
use here, for there is nothing to cut except that rough plank in the
corner, which was, I suppose, brought up for some purpose or other and
forgotten."

The day passed slowly. No one came near him until, just as the sun was
setting, two soldiers came in bringing a jug of water and some bread.
Angus had little sleep that night. He dozed off occasionally, but the
hardness of the stone floor and the cold speedily roused him, and he
was glad indeed when daylight returned and the sun shone out. An hour
later, when looking from his prison window, he perceived a party of
horsemen. Long before he could distinguish their figures he made sure
that they were British troops, from the fact that two or three rode
ahead, and the rest, evidently an escort, in a close body behind them.
They approached within musket-shot. As soon as they did so a fire of
matchlocks broke out from the walls. They drew off a little, and then
turned and rode off. There was no doubt that they were a reconnoitring
party, who had ridden forward to ascertain the best spot for an attack.

Two hours later three regiments of infantry came up, followed by a
battery. The object of their approach was to discover whether Ghuznee
was held in force, for reports had reached the camp that the greater
portion of the garrison had retired. It answered its purpose, for the
guns of the fortress opened fire, and for an hour there was an exchange
of shot between them and the battery. The object of the reconnaissance
being fulfilled, the British returned to their camp. Not until five
o'clock was any further movement perceptible; then Angus saw a long
dark line ascending the pass. On reaching its head the column made
a wide detour, so as to keep beyond the range of the guns of the
fortress, and then entered a rocky and difficult country to the east.
As he knew that the gates had all been walled up with masonry with the
exception of that through which the road from Cabul entered it, he had
no doubt that it was intended to encamp on that side, thus cutting
off the fortress from relief by the army assembled under another of
the Ameer's sons, and at the same time preventing the flight of the
garrison. As long as it was light the column was still passing on--a
long line of baggage waggons and native followers, guarded by bodies
of troops against any sortie that might be made. During the night
occasional shots were fired from the fortress, and at various points of
the plain and on the surrounding hills fires raised gave indications of
gatherings of tribesmen.

It had indeed been a painful and difficult march. Several streams and
water-courses swollen by rain had to be crossed, but with enormous
exertions the whole force was established, and on the following
morning tents were erected along the position chosen. Sir John Keane,
accompanied by General Cotton, ascended the heights, took a survey of
the fortress, and decided upon the plan of attack. At two o'clock in
the afternoon a body of Afghan horse suddenly attacked the camp in the
rear, but were beaten off by our own cavalry. Angus heard the outburst
of firing, and concluded that the governor would ere long carry out
his threat. He had no idea what the commander-in-chief's plan was, but
he felt certain that the attack when made would be sudden and sharp,
and would be in the nature of a surprise, for in no other way did it
seem possible that a force, however strong, could without artillery
capture the place. In that case there was just a possibility that in
the excitement of the moment his existence would be forgotten.

"At any rate," he said to himself, "I will do what I can to defer the
moment of my execution. I don't suppose it will be of the smallest use,
but as I have nothing else to do, I will cut some wedges, and as soon
as the attack begins in earnest I will jam them in round the door."

For the rest of the day he occupied himself in cutting strips of wood
off the plank and fashioning wedges, of which he made about four dozen,
the work sufficing to keep his thoughts from dwelling upon his probable
fate. He concealed all these in his clothes; then he cut off a stout
piece of plank and fashioned it into the form of a short thick bat,
with which to drive the wedges into their place. Then he laid the
plank in its place again, with the freshly-cut side against the wall,
swept up the chips, and threw them out of the loophole. He thought it
probable that Sir John Keane would attack without any delay, as it was
all-important to capture the citadel before the relieving army from
Cabul and the forces of three or four great chiefs which were also in
the neighbourhood could join hands and attack him in the rear, while
the powerful garrison sallied out and fell upon him in front.




CHAPTER IX

JUST IN TIME


The plan of the British general for the capture of Ghuznee was a
bold one. He knew that his little guns could make no impression upon
the walls, and that it would take weeks before it would be possible
to effect a breach. His idea was to blow in the gate and to pour
his troops in through the opening. His plans were admirably laid.
At midnight six companies of infantry established themselves in the
gardens to the right and left of the spot where the assaulting column
were to take up their position, ready to advance as soon as the gate
was blown in. Two hours later three companies of a native regiment
made a detour and took up a position to the north of the fortress. The
field artillery took up their post on a height. At three o'clock in
the morning the infantry on the north opened a musketry fire. At the
same moment the artillery on the hills began a brisk cannonade, while
a camel battery directed its fire against the walls. The guns of the
fortress at once replied, and the walls were fringed with the musketry
fire. It was still an hour to daylight when Captain Thompson, of the
Royal Engineers, with a party of his men, crept forward to the gate,
carrying with them nine hundred pounds of gunpowder in twelve sacks.

The movement was altogether unobserved by the garrison, who had been
taken completely by surprise by the sudden fire. The night had been
exceptionally favourable for the attempt. The wind blew so strongly
that the tramp of the columns and the sound of the wheels of the
guns failed to reach the ears of the sentries on the walls. When the
fire broke out the Afghans at once burned numbers of blue lights to
endeavour to obtain a clear view of the attacking force; but the light
failed to pierce the darkness, and the fireworks burned but fitfully
owing to the force of the gale. They therefore distributed themselves
along the whole circuit of walls instead of concentrating upon the
point where the attack was about to take place.

The Engineers had done their work admirably. They crept silently along
the causeway which afforded a passage across the moat, and then up the
steep ascent which led to the gate, unnoticed by those who manned the
loopholes. Two minutes sufficed to place the sacks in position. The
fuse was then fired, and the party ran back to such cover as they could
find. At this moment the Afghans lit a large and brilliant blue light
immediately over the gate, but before they could obtain any idea of
what was passing below the explosion took place. The gate was blown to
pieces, and masses of masonry and fractured beams fell into the passage
beyond. Then a bugle was sounded by the Engineers, and the storming
party rushed down and crept into the dark, blocked-up passage. Here
they were fiercely opposed. The Afghans had rallied almost instantly
from their first surprise, and rushed down to defend the passage. A
desperate struggle took place in the dark, but British valour was
triumphant, and the four companies of the 2nd and 17th Regiments
fought their way into the interior of the fortress.

Had they been at once supported by the column behind them, commanded
by Brigadier-general Sale, the capture of Ghuznee would have been
comparatively bloodless; but as he was advancing he met one of the
Engineer officers, who had been terribly bruised and injured by the
explosion. Upon being questioned, the latter said that the gate had
been blown in, but that the passage was blocked with the ruins. As in
that case it would have been madness to advance, the general ordered
the retreat to be sounded. The call was heard by the leading companies,
but not obeyed. Instead of the troops retreating, they halted
irresolutely, rather than carry out an order the most unwelcome that
can be given to British soldiers. Fortunately another Engineer officer
soon came along and assured the brigadier that, although the passage
was greatly blocked, the storming party had made their way through;
whereupon the column at once rushed forward. The delay, however, had
given the garrison time to rally, and large numbers had run down
from the wall to take part in the fight. Many, however, despairing
of successful resistance now that their assailants had won their way
into the town, allowed the storming party to pass and then attempted
to escape through the gateway. But as they did so, General Sale with
the head of his column arrived, and another desperate fight took place
among the ruins of the gate.

The general himself was cut down, and his assailant endeavoured to
complete his work. Sale succeeded in grasping his sword hand, but,
weakened by his wound, must have been overpowered had not an officer
run up and severely wounded the Afghan. The struggle continued, but the
general managed to gain his feet and cut down his assailant.

The column was a long time in passing over the heap of ruins, now
further encumbered by wounded and dead. As soon as they had entered,
the reserve, who had been suffering from the fire of the Afghans still
on the walls, followed them, and while General Sale's division ascended
the steep path that led to the citadel, which rose far above the rest
of the fortress, the reserve began the work of clearing out the Afghans
from the houses. Large numbers of Afghans had taken refuge here as
the troops entered, and these, rushing out, flung themselves upon the
troops with the fury of despair. Many of these who had first entered,
exhausted by their exertions, were with the wounded sitting in the
courtyard at the foot of the citadel. Upon these the fanatics rushed,
cutting and slashing with their keen tulwars alike at the soldiers who
started to their feet, the wounded on the ground, and their own horses,
who, mad with terror, were galloping wildly over the courtyard. A
series of desperate hand-to-hand conflicts were waged until the last of
the Afghans were shot or bayoneted. The walls were cleared with little
difficulty, but many soldiers were shot as they passed through the
narrow streets of the native town. All resistance ceased at a quarter
past five. Thus in two hours and a quarter after the first shot was
fired, a fortress deemed impregnable and garrisoned by three thousand
five hundred men was captured.

Ghuznee had been provisioned for six months, and so certain was
Mohummed Hyder of the ability of the place to hold out that he
had brought with him all the ladies of his zenana. In spite of
the desperate nature of the fighting, not one of the Afghans who
surrendered was injured, nor was the slightest insult offered to the
ladies of the zenana or the women in the native town. The troops
who had ascended to the citadel found the gates open, the Afghan
prince having lost all hope as soon as he found the lower fortress
in possession of the British. He was found hiding in disguise, and
was brought before Shah Soojah. The latter magnanimously said to him:
"What has been has been; you have deserved evil at my hands, but you
have this day behaved like a brave man. I forgive thee the past; go in
peace." The young prince was then handed over to Sir Alexander Burnes
for safe custody.

The success had been cheaply purchased. Only seventeen non-commissioned
officers and privates had been killed, and eighteen officers and a
hundred and forty-seven men wounded. Of the Afghans, five hundred and
fourteen bodies were buried next day; more than a hundred fugitives
were killed outside the walls; upwards of a thousand horses, a great
number of camels and mules, vast quantities of provisions, ammunition,
and arms fell into the hands of the conquerors, together with more than
fifteen hundred prisoners. Over a thousand made their escape.

At the first outburst of firing Angus had sprung to his feet; as
the fight increased in fury he was certain that a night attack was
in progress, and he at once proceeded to drive in the wedges he had
prepared. Just as he had completed this he heard the dull roar of the
explosion, followed by loud and excited shouts, but the noise of the
gale prevented him from catching the words. He had no doubt, however,
that either the gate had been blown in or that a mine had been driven
into the wall, and that the explosion of an immense charge of powder
had effected a breach. Then came the sound of a heavy and continuous
rattle of musketry. The cannon of the fortress opened fire, while those
of the besiegers answered. By the occasional fall of masses of masonry,
and the screams of women, he had no doubt that the British artillery
were now directing their fire against the citadel, in order to add to
the confusion among the defenders of the fortress.

[Illustration: HE TOOK DOWN THE PROP, AND THRUST IT SUDDENLY WITH ALL
HIS FORCE THROUGH THE HOLE.]

Presently he heard a rush of feet up the staircase, then the bolts of
the door were pulled back, and a yell of rage and surprise arose as the
door did not yield to the push against it. The staircase was a very
narrow one, and but one person could mount at a time. As it terminated
at the door, one man only could use his strength against it, and Angus
felt perfectly sure that it would need a much greater pressure than
this to force it open. He had already propped the plank against it, and
stood with his foot at the lower end to prevent it from slipping. The
man next to the door, finding that it did not yield, began to hammer
with the hilt of his sword, but soon desisted, finding that his blows
did not even shake it. There was a confused sound of talking, and then
silence for a few minutes; then there was a renewed noise, and a heavy
blow was struck at the door. Evidently a large block of wood had been
brought up; but this did not greatly alarm Angus. The staircase was a
circular one, and at most but two men could work the battering-ram,
which on account of the confined space was necessarily short.

This proving unsuccessful, there was again silence. After an interval
came blows of a sharper sound, an axe of some sort was being used.
During the lulls of the wind the sounds of the struggle below could
be plainly heard, and as it was now dawn Angus could have seen what
was going on had not the loophole been on the opposite side, but from
the sharpness of the sound he had no doubt that the firing was in
the courtyard, and that his countrymen had effected an entrance. The
chopping went on regularly. The door was thick and strong, and it
was half an hour before the edge of the axe first showed through it;
another five minutes and a hole a foot wide appeared some four feet
from the ground. At this rate it would be some time before an opening
large enough for a man to pass through could be made. He took down
the prop, and thrust it suddenly with all his force through the hole,
striking the man who was wielding the axe full in the face.

There was a terrible cry, mingled with yells of rage from the others.
Presently a pistol was thrust through the hole and fired; he had
expected this, and had stood back. Again and again shots were fired.
It was evident that there was an unwillingness on the part of his
assailants to try the axe again. Presently he heard a shout from below.
The words came up distinctly, "Mohummed Hyder's orders are that the
attack is to cease," and Angus felt that he was saved. The prince,
indeed, seeing that all was lost, had sent an officer in great haste
to put a stop to the attack on his prisoner's cell. He no longer
thought of carrying out his former intentions. The British army was
not after all an impotent enemy to be insulted, but a victorious one
to be appeased, and as soon as he was informed of the attack on his
prisoner's cell he had sent off to put a stop to it. It had not been
made by his orders, but was the act of the soldiers on the wall near
it, who, seeing that the British had entered, had determined to take
vengeance upon the captive.

A few minutes later Angus heard the triumphant cheers of the troops as
they poured in through the open gate of the citadel.

It was another hour before the contest in the courtyard below and on
the walls of the fortress came to an end. Shortly afterwards he heard
steps approaching, and through the hole in the door saw a British
officer coming up the stair; behind him was Azim.

"I am glad indeed to see you, Campbell," the officer said, as he caught
sight of his face. "We had all given you up as dead when we found
that none of your escort came back; but your boy, on questioning the
prisoners, found out that you were confined here, and came at once to
tell me. I see by the state of the door that you have been standing a
siege. Are you uninjured?"

"Yes, my rascally troops seized me suddenly and brought me here. I will
tell you about it as soon as I have unfastened the door."

"It is the first time I ever heard of a prison door having bolts on the
inside."

"They are not bolts, as you will see directly."

It took some minutes to get all the wedges out. Macgregor then entered
and shook Angus warmly by the hand, while Azim threw himself on his
knees, and seizing his master's hand kissed it again and again, tears
of joy streaming down his cheeks.

"Where in the world did you get these wedges?" Macgregor asked.

"I cut them out of this plank. It took me all day yesterday to make
them and this mallet. How the plank came here I don't know, but it
certainly saved my life."

"That and your wits, Campbell. It was a capital idea, first-rate. I see
there is blood on the staircase."

"The plank came in useful again. I used it as a battering-ram on the
fellow who was chopping, and as I caught him full in the face, the
blood is accounted for. As you see by the opposite wall, they fired a
few shots through the hole afterwards, but of course I took good care
to be out of the line of fire."

"Well, come along. Sir Alexander has been asking about you, but could
get no information, and it might have been some time before you were
set free had it not been for your boy."

On going down into the body of the citadel, Angus was most warmly
greeted by Sir Alexander Burnes and the other officers who knew him,
for all supposed that he had been murdered. He explained to his chief
why his life had been spared.

"You had a narrow escape indeed," the latter said, "for I have no
doubt whatever that the Afghan would have carried out his threat had
we attacked in a regular way. It is quite in accordance with their
barbarous customs. But I certainly wonder that they did not kill you
when we entered the fortress."

Macgregor then told the manner in which Angus had converted his little
cell into a fort, and had resisted successfully the attacks made upon
it.

"A very narrow escape indeed, Mr. Campbell," Sir Alexander Burnes
said. "It was fortunate indeed that that piece of wood had been left
in the cell; but the idea of cutting wedges from it and fastening the
door would not have occurred to everyone. It was a most happy thought,
and certainly was the means of saving your life. It was a treacherous
business indeed of Hajee Khan Kakur, for I have no doubt that he was
the concocter of the plot. He has given us the strongest grounds for
suspicion ever since we left Candahar, and has continually been making
excuses for lagging behind. We have strong reason for believing that if
we had failed here, he would at once have turned against us."

"I do not think he knew of this, sir. When I was seized, the trooper
said. 'Do you think that because our chief is a traitor we are traitors
too?'"

"These fellows are very crafty, Mr. Campbell, and Hajee has a special
reputation that way, having before now turned traitor in spite of
promises and vows. He may very well have instructed one of his men
to say this, in order that if, contrary to all probability, you ever
rejoined the army, he himself might be shielded by your repeating
this speech. We have never put any trust in him since he joined us,
though of course it was politic to seem to do so, as other chiefs might
follow his example. He was questioned very sharply as to the orders he
had given his men when you did not return that afternoon. Of course he
swore by the Prophet that he had chosen men in whom he had the greatest
confidence, which was, I have no doubt, true. However, as it was
possible that you and they might have fallen into an ambush, the matter
was dropped for the time. But our suspicions gained ground when, as we
came up here, no signs of a fight were discovered, no bodies either of
men or horses, and I intended to reopen the matter as soon as things
were a little settled down. Well, I can assure you I am heartily glad
to see you back again safe and sound, and I shall not fail to report
the matter to Sir John Keane, and tell him how cleverly you escaped the
fate intended for you."

The army remained for a week at Ghuznee while preparations were being
made for converting the fortress into a base from which further
operations could be carried on. It was thought well to pause, so that
the full effects of the disaster might be felt throughout the country
before the advance began again. The fall of Ghuznee had indeed entirely
disarranged the plan of campaign that had been decided upon by Dost
Mahomed. The fortress had been provisioned for six months, and it was
confidently believed that it could resist all attacks for that time.
With the approach of winter, the position of a besieging army would
be desperate. The cold would be intense, they would be surrounded on
all sides by swarms of fierce tribesmen, would be unable to obtain
provisions in the country round, and must either retire through the
passes they had ascended, to Candahar, or be forced by famine to
surrender. In the former case, the disaster that afterwards occurred in
endeavouring to retire from Cabul would probably have befallen them.

This plan was entirely brought to naught by the fall of Ghuznee, and
six days later the brother of Dost Mahomed arrived in camp with an
offer from the Ameer to surrender the government to Shah Soojah, on
condition that he himself should, as the head of the Barukzyes, fill
the hereditary office of wuzeer, or prime minister. As this would
have placed the whole power of the state in his hands, the offer was
refused, and on the 31st of July the army resumed its march. After
three days' march, they learned that the Kuzzilbashes had mutinied.
This body of troops were of Persian descent, and had for very many
years formed an important part of the military power of Cabul, and held
a position similar to that of the Janizaries of Constantinople and the
Mamelukes of Egypt. Under but very slight control, they were constantly
causing trouble by their insolence and exactions, and they now showed
that they entertained no feeling either of loyalty or gratitude towards
the dynasty which they served.

In spite of the exhortations of the Ameer, they insisted upon his
granting them a discharge from his service, and as it was evident that
the news from Ghuznee had so much dispirited the whole army that no
reliance whatever could be placed on their fidelity, the unfortunate
monarch was obliged to allow the Kuzzilbashes to disband, and the rest
of the army to disperse, and to take to the mountains as a fugitive,
accompanied only by a small party of personal followers. A force was at
once sent in pursuit of him; but as the following of the traitor, Hajee
Khan, formed the principal part of this force, the double-faced chief,
who desired to make himself safe whatever turn affairs might take, so
contrived that Dost Mahomed and his party were not overtaken. In the
meantime the main force marched forward to Cabul wholly unopposed.
Twenty-two guns were found abandoned at the spot where the Ameer's army
had dispersed. These, placed in a strong defile, and supported by a
large force of tribesmen, might have long resisted our advance had the
Kuzzilbashes and other Afghan horsemen swept round on our rear, and
although British valour might have finally succeeded, it could only
have been after a terrible struggle. But now the Ameer was a fugitive,
the guns were in our hands, the Kuzzilbashes and native tribesmen had
come in to salute their new ruler, and nothing remained but to enter
the capital in triumph.

The entry took place on the 7th of August. The ceremony was an imposing
one. Shah Soojah, after an exile of thirty years, rode at the head
of the cortege, on a white charger with golden trappings. He wore a
jewelled coronet, his arms and garments were ornamented with precious
stones, and his waist encircled with a broad girdle of gold encrusted
with rubies and emeralds. Accompanying him were the commander-in-chief,
and Mr. Macnaghten and Sir Alexander Burnes, who were in full
diplomatic dress. Two of the Shah's sons and a few of the principal
chiefs rode behind him with a number of staff officers in full uniform.
Following him came the army that had performed so long and difficult
a march to place him on his throne. The surrounding country traversed
was rich and fertile in the extreme, and almost covered with orchards
of peaches and other fruits; under these crops of all sorts grew
luxuriantly. On the eminences commanding the plain immense numbers of
tribesmen assembled to witness the martial display.

On entering the city, the victors found the inhabitants clustered
in the streets through which they passed to the royal residence in
the Bala Hissar, a great citadel situated on a hill commanding the
town, and so strongly fortified that it would have been difficult
to capture it unless by the aid of a regular siege train. The aspect
of the inhabitants was perfectly peaceful; there were no shouts or
exclamations of enthusiasm, but it was evident from the expression
of satisfaction on their faces that the majority were well satisfied
with the termination of the rule of the Barukzyes, whose exactions had
pressed heavily upon them.

Dost Mahomed himself was popular. He was affable and kindly in
disposition; his decisions on all matters brought before him were just
and fair; he was accessible to all having complaints to bring before
him; and had he possessed a body of trustworthy infantry to overawe the
marauding Kuzzilbashes and the semi-independent chiefs, there can be
no doubt that his rule would have been a wise and beneficial one. Shah
Soojah was the reverse of his rival. Haughty and arrogant, he regarded
and treated with contempt his new subjects, seldom granted audience, or
troubled himself in any way with their affairs, rarely went abroad, and
remained in almost constant seclusion in his palace.

The shops of Cabul excited the admiration of the officers and men
of the British force. Probably nowhere else in the world could such
a display of fruit have been collected. Here were piles of peaches
equal to the finest product of English hothouses, grapes of five
varieties, rosy apples, juicy pears, several delicious kinds of melons,
almonds, pistachio nuts, walnuts, quinces, cherries, and red and white
mulberries, and vegetables of all kinds. The butchers' shops were
cleanly and well arranged; there were public ovens, in which loaves,
and the cakes of which the Afghans are extremely fond, were baking
when the force entered. In the potters' shops were jars and drinking
vessels of all kinds; Afghan, Persian, and Russian cloths, cloaks, furs
of many kinds, sets of china and Dresden porcelain in the shops of the
wealthier traders; and behind these open shops were inner apartments
with very fine and costly shawls, silks, precious stones, valuable
carpets, and tea imported by way of Bokhara. Conspicuous were the
shops of manufacturers of swords and daggers, and makers of scabbards
and belts, shields and chain armour, and even of bookbinders, who
manufactured covers for manuscript copies of Persian poems and stories.
Unfortunately for the moral of the army, there were also manufactories
of spirits. Since leaving Candahar no spirit rations had been served
out, and the troops had greatly benefited in health during their
arduous work by the privation, but the power to purchase vile spirits
at a very low price now tempted many into drinking to intoxication, and
lowered at once their health and discipline.

Mr. Macnaghten and his staff had a fine building in the Bala Hissar
allotted to them. Sir Alexander Burnes with his assistants occupied
a house in the city. The position of Burnes was an unsatisfactory
one. He had a right to expect that after his previous residence in
Cabul he would be appointed British resident there, and he had only
accepted a secondary position upon the understanding that Macnaghten's
appointment was a temporary one. He had on the way up rendered much
valuable assistance, but he had no strictly defined duties. His opinion
was seldom asked, and if given, was wholly disregarded. For this he
was himself somewhat to blame. His temperament was a changeable one.
At times he was full of enthusiasm and saw everything in the rosiest
light; at other times he was depressed and despondent, and came to be
regarded as a prophet of evil. Having no serious work to occupy his
mind, he worried over trifles, exaggerated the importance of the bazaar
rumours, and was often filled with the gloomiest anticipations.

The war had been undertaken altogether in opposition to his advice.
He had been most favourably impressed with Dost Mahomed, and his
remonstrances against the attempt to force Shah Soojah on the Afghans
had been so strong and persistent, that the home government, in
defending themselves from the public indignation excited by subsequent
disaster, even went the length of suppressing some of his despatches
and garbling others, after he was no longer alive to proclaim the
falsification.

Once at Cabul, his opportunities for doing useful service came to
an end. Macnaghten, who was always sanguine to an extent that, in
the light of subsequent events, seemed to border on insanity, was
all-powerful with the new Ameer. The expression of any opinion which
ran counter to his own was in the highest degree distasteful to him,
and it was only in negotiations for the supply of the troops, and with
the petty chiefs, that Burnes and his staff found any employment.

Although Pushtoo was the language of the country-people who came in
with goods, the inhabitants of Cabul almost universally spoke Persian,
and Angus Campbell and Azim found themselves quite at home among them.

On the 3rd of September, a force under Colonel Wade, which had advanced
through the Khyber Pass, arrived at Cabul. It was a mixed body composed
principally of Pathans and Sikhs. It had met with comparatively small
resistance, but had rendered valuable service, as a large force had
been detached from Dost Mahomed's army to oppose its advance, and thus
greatly weakened the army with which the Ameer had intended to meet the
British advance from Candahar. The Afghan force had been recalled in
haste after the news of the fall of Ghuznee, but had not arrived until
after the disbandment of the Ameer's army and his flight to the Bamian
Pass, when it had also broken up, and Wade was therefore able to reach
Cabul without opposition.

It was now necessary to decide what should be done with the army of
occupation. Macnaghten was pressing by a constant succession of letters
that large reinforcements should be sent up in order to win back for
Shah Soojah the territories that had once formed part of the Afghan
empire. He urged that in order to check Russian aggression an army
should not only occupy Herat, but should extend its operations until it
became paramount at Bokhara; while, on the other hand, Peshawur and the
territory wrested from Afghanistan by the Sikhs should be reconquered,
and the Sikh nation, which was becoming more and more hostile to us,
should be brought into subjection. But fortunately Lord Auckland, now
freed from the pernicious influence of Macnaghten and surrounded by
discreet counsellors, was by no means disposed to turn a favourable ear
to these fantastic projects. The cost of the army of occupation was a
heavy drain on the revenue of India, and so far from any assistance
being rendered by Afghanistan, Shah Soojah was constantly clamouring
for subsidies to enable him to maintain his position. The absence of so
many troops was also much felt in India, for they were greatly needed
on the frontiers of the Beloochees as well as those of the Sikhs.
Macnaghten had so persistently asserted that Shah Soojah was personally
popular with the Afghans, that it was decided that only a comparatively
small force was needed to uphold his authority in case Dost Mahomed
should make an effort to recover his throne, and orders were given
that the greater portion of the Bombay army should march down through
the Kojuk and Bolan Passes, and most of the Bengal troops through the
Khyber, leaving some six regiments, with a proportion of artillery, at
Cabul, with garrisons at Ghuznee, Candahar, Quettah, and Jellalabad.

Macnaghten in vain remonstrated and entreated. It was settled that the
movement should begin at the end of September, so that the troops
could regain the plains before winter set in in earnest. September
passed quietly. The climate at this time was perfect, and the troops
enjoyed the rest, with the abundance of fruit and vegetables. There
were reviews and races. Shah Soojah established an order of knighthood,
and held a grand durbar, at which the principal officers were invested,
with great ceremony, with the insignia of the new order. On the 18th of
the month the Bombay column started on its march, but news having been
brought down from the force that had occupied the Bamian Pass, that
Dost Mahomed was collecting a formidable army, the authorities were
induced to maintain a great portion of the Bengal force round Cabul.
Great difficulties arose with reference to provisioning these troops
through the winter. There was abundant accommodation for them in the
Bala Hissar and its citadel, but Shah Soojah strongly objected to the
presence of a large body of troops there. Macnaghten, with his usual
weakness, gave way.

On the 15th of October Sir John Keane, with that portion of the Bengal
force that was to return, set out. The Ameer left two days later,
to spend the winter in the more genial climate of Jellalabad, and
Macnaghten accompanied him. Sanguine as he was, he could not help
feeling uneasy at the situation. The British occupation had greatly
benefited the merchants and traders, the farmers and cultivators
of Cabul, but it had seriously injured the poorer portion of the
community. The natural result of so large an army, well supplied
with money, being stationed in the city, was to raise the price of
all articles of consumption prodigiously, and to cause wide-spread
discontent. The exactions of the native tax-collectors pressed heavily
upon all the tribesmen. The British officers, by the terms of the
treaty with Shah Soojah, were unable to interfere in any way with the
internal affairs of the country; but when the natives revolted against
the unjust exactions it was they who were called upon to suppress them,
consequently the infidel supporters of the Ameer became more and more
hated by the people, and it was soon dangerous for them to go beyond
the limits of their camps. The Ameer himself resented the state of
subjection in which he considered that he was held, though he could
not dispense with British bayonets and British money. Macnaghten left
behind him experienced administrators. Burnes, Conolly, Leech, Todd,
and Lord had all long acquaintance with the country, and if anyone
could, under such circumstances, have reconciled the country to foreign
occupation, they would have done so.




CHAPTER X

A MISSION


"I wish that we had trustworthy news of what Dost Mahomed is doing,"
Sir Alexander Burnes said one morning when he and his assistants were
talking over the work for the day. "Of course one hears from the Hindoo
merchants what rumours are circulating, but these are so contradictory
that they are not to be relied upon. One day it is said that Dost has
retired to Bokhara, another that he has already gathered a formidable
force. It is certain that if he does not recross the Bamian soon he
will not give us any trouble till the spring, for I doubt whether even
the Afghans, hardy as they are, could traverse the passes when winter
has fairly set in. Still, it would be very useful to us to obtain some
sort of inkling as to what his movements and intentions are. He may
intend to make a bold stroke to recover his kingdom, he may wait until
there is a popular rising here. In the first case, our force here must
be maintained at the present strength, and it would be well to warn
Lord Auckland as soon as possible that next spring its strength must be
increased rather than diminished. If, on the other hand, Dost depends
upon a rising here rather than upon any force he may himself gather,
there will be no occasion for more troops than we have, for these
should suffice to crush any tribal rising."

"I should be happy to undertake the mission if you would confide it
to me, sir," Angus said. "I travelled as a Persian without exciting
suspicion, and I can do the same again. I might obtain a couple
of horse-loads of Indian silk and cashmere goods, and travel as a
Persian trader who has been settled here, but who, fearing that fresh
disturbances might occur, had decided to make a trip himself to Bokhara
with a view of establishing himself there. I see all trade is at
present at a stand-still, as the northern traders dare not venture down
here. The fact that I can also speak Pushtoo will, of course, be an
advantage, and would seem to show that I had, as I gave out, resided
here for some time."

"It would be a dangerous enterprise, Mr. Campbell."

"There would be a certain amount of danger in it, sir, but not, it
seems to me, excessive--not more than I met in my journey from Herat.
There is danger, as you have frequently said, even here; and at any
rate, I am ready to take all risks if you think that the mission would
be of utility."

"That it would certainly be, and I admit that no one would be more
likely to carry it to a successful conclusion, but I fear that it would
be impossible for you to return before the spring."

"I do not think that I could return across the mountains, but I might
dispose of my goods to the Turkomans. From what we hear, Dost Mahomed
is either at Balkh or Kunduz, or possibly Tashkurgan, half-way between
them. Balkh would, of course, be more convenient, for it is but a
couple of days' journey to Kilif, on the other side of the Oxus. There
I might dispose of my goods, and buy carpets and shawls of Bokhara; and
then travel across the plains to Herat; thence, by the trade route,
to Candahar; and so back through Ghuznee. That would, of course, be a
long journey, but there would be no very lofty passes to traverse. I
need hardly say that I should not enter Herat, as I might be recognized
there; but there would be no fear of recognition elsewhere. As my
servant is really a Persian, and has also picked up Pushtoo, he would
greatly aid me in preserving my disguise. At any rate, I would rather
be doing something than remaining here idle through the winter."

"Then I accept your offer, Mr. Campbell. The information you would give
as to the feeling of the people on the other side of the mountains
would be invaluable. I will myself question one or two of the Hindoo
merchants as to the goods that are generally sent to Bokhara. I know,
of course, that the bulk of that trade with India is carried on through
Candahar and Herat, but it would be natural that a trader residing
here and wishing to leave should prefer the direct route, however
toilsome it might be. I should say easy loads for three animals would
be sufficient, and as the merchandise would be of light materials, a
considerable value could be carried by three horses. You will need a
fourth for a small stock of provisions, for you will have to depend
on yourselves until you are on the other side of the passes. You will
require two men to look after the four horses. I will obtain two
soldiers from one of the Pathan regiments. It would be dangerous for
you to hire a man in the city; I will get a couple of men of approved
fidelity. They will, of course, be in native dress, and will pass as
peasants hired for the journey by you. Four of you, well armed, should
be able to give a good account of yourselves if you should fall in with
any small party of freebooters, though that is more likely to happen on
your return journey than on your way across the hills."

"Thank you, sir."

"Well, to-day is Monday; it will take two or three days to make all the
preparations and get the sort of men you require. Would you be ready to
start on Thursday?"

"Certainly, sir. As far as I and my man are concerned, we should be
ready to start at a moment's notice, as there will be no difficulty in
buying the clothes we require."

"Very well, then, it shall be settled for Thursday. I know I need not
tell you to warn your servant to maintain absolute secrecy as to the
fact that you are leaving the town."

Azim was greatly pleased when Angus told him of the intended
expedition, for, having few duties to perform, he had found the time
hang heavily on his hands, and was glad to hear that he was not to
spend the long winter at Cabul. He purchased in the bazaars all the
garments for his master and himself--high boots lined with fur, and
cloaks of thick cloth similarly lined, and Afghan hats of black lamb's
wool.

[Illustration: THERE, LYING CLOSE UNDER A ROCK, WAS A YOUNG AFGHAN.]

On Wednesday evening Sir Alexander Burnes said to Angus: "It is just as
well that you did not make your start this morning, for there has been
a sharp skirmish on the road ten miles off between a squadron of our
cavalry and a party of Afghan horse. I hear the fellows fought well,
but were driven off with considerable loss. I have seen the two men
who have been selected to accompany you, they have both been some time
in our service. Their colonel spoke highly to me of them. I explained
to them the nature of the duty on which they were going, and gave
them the option of declining it, but said that if they carried it
through successfully they would on their return receive a present of
six months' pay and would at once be promoted. They accepted without
hesitation, and I feel certain that you can rely upon them. They were
recruited from the border tribes, which have ever held themselves
independent of the Afghan factions, and have no sympathy whatever
either with the Kuzzilbashes or Soojah himself, and care not a snap
who rules over Afghanistan. If questioned, their story will be that
they came up as camp followers with Colonel Wade's force, and that on
arriving at Cabul their work with the army was at an end, and they
took service with the Persian trader. All the goods and packs have
been marked in Persian characters, with the prices they would fetch in
Persia, and those at which they would probably sell at Bokhara; so that
you will know how to carry on your trading without exciting suspicion
either by asking too little or by demanding an unusual price. Each man
will lead two horses, and I have provided rough ponies for them to
ride. I think you will find that no detail has been neglected. I have
had a thousand rupees sewn up in the saddle of your horse. I sent for
one of the cavalry saddlers, and your man showed him which was your
saddle. Another five hundred are sewn in the saddle of your servant in
case of mishap. Here is a letter to Lieutenant Mackenzie, who commands
the troop of horse artillery which is at Bamian with the Ameer's
Ghoorka regiment. You may be questioned there, so without giving him
any details I have simply requested him to allow the bearer and his
party to pass on without question or interference."

The start was not made from the house of Sir Alexander Burnes, but from
that of the Hindoo merchant from whom goods had been purchased. As
there was nothing unusual in a trader starting with some horse-loads
of merchandise, no attention was attracted, and the party crossed the
plain four miles farther up, and skirted the foot of the mountains
until they reached the gorge through which the track--for it could not
be called a road--led over the mountains to Bamian. They had decided to
camp here, but they found that it was the scene of the previous day's
combat. Dead horses and men were scattered about, and it was evident
that the Afghans had been lying in ambush here, aware that at times
parties of our cavalry rode some distance up the pass. They determined
to go half a mile farther up the gorge, as there was no danger of
disturbance by the Afghans, who, after their defeat on the previous
day, were not likely to be in the neighbourhood.

After proceeding a quarter of a mile Angus, who was riding ahead,
suddenly stopped his horse, hearing a deep groan. As the ground was
strewn with rocks on either side of the track, he concluded at once
that some poor fellow had crawled away to die, unnoticed by our cavalry
returning from pursuit. Knowing what tortures he must be suffering from
thirst he dismounted, and filling a pannikin from one of the skins,
he bade Azim bring some fruit, and then made his way to the spot from
which the sound proceeded. There, lying close under a rock, was a young
Afghan, whose clothes showed that he was a chief of some rank. His eyes
were closed, his face pallid and drawn, his lips black and cracked with
thirst. Angus knelt beside him, and poured a few drops of water between
his lips. This he repeated again and again.

The wounded man opened his eyes with a deep exclamation of
thankfulness. Then his face darkened, and he said: "You meant kindly,
good friend, but you have done me a cruel service. The worst had
passed; I had sunk into unconsciousness, and should have passed into
Paradise without more pain."

"Where are you wounded?" Angus asked. "Perhaps we can do something for
you."

The Afghan slightly shook his head. "Nothing can be done for me," he
said. "I have a musket-ball in my shoulder, and my right leg is broken
above the knee."

"At any rate we can make you comfortable. We were going to camp a short
way ahead, but we will now do so here."

"May Allah bless you, but it would be better to leave me to die at
once."

"That I cannot do. Now, have a good drink of water, and then I will cut
a melon into pieces for you to suck while we are preparing our camp."

The horses' loads were removed and the animals turned loose to graze on
the grass growing among the rocks. Then the tent was erected and the
Afghan carried into the shade of a high rock close by. By this time he
was able to speak more strongly, and said: "You are Persian, I see, by
your dress. How comes it that you have entered this lonely gorge with
your pack-horses and your goods?"

"We are going to make our road to Bokhara. There are rumours of
disaffection in Cabul, and if there is fighting the houses of the
traders will be looted. Therefore I resolved to leave while I could,
and am taking my Indian goods for sale there."

"It will be a terrible journey," the young chief said. "There is
already snow in the upper passes. I wish you success. I shall think of
your kindness as I lie here, and pray Allah to protect you. Before you
go I pray you to carry me down to the edge of this stream, so that I
may drink when I will."

"We will certainly do that, and give you a supply of fruit if we can
do no better. Now we must look and see to your wounds. I can at least
bandage them, and make you somewhat easier."

To his surprise Angus found no wounds in the leg. "I see no bullet
mark," he said.

"No, the leg was broken in my fall. My men had fought well, but the
Feringees were too strong for them, and we fled. I was riding in their
rear, when a shot struck me in the shoulder. I fell from my horse, and
when I found that my leg was broken I felt my end was at hand; but I
heard no more shots nor any further sound of galloping horses, and I
knew that by Allah's mercy they had ceased their pursuit. My horse had
galloped on after the others, and my men might not notice that I had
fallen until they had gone some distance, when they would probably
conclude that I had been killed. I managed to crawl out of the road to
the shelter of that rock where you found me, as the infidels might come
up in the morning, and I would rather die quietly there than be shot
down."

"They would not have injured you," Angus said. "They kill many in
battle, but it is a rule with them never to touch an injured man; and
had they come along they would have taken you back to their camp and
have done all they could for you."

"I have heard that they were strange in that respect; but I did not
think of it--my only wish was to die quietly and alone. I tried several
times to crawl to the stream, but the agony was so great that I could
not do it."

Angus while he was speaking was feeling the limb. "The first thing to
do," he said, "is to bring the ends of the bone together; the operation
will be painful, but it will greatly relieve your sufferings."

"Do as you will, stranger; Allah has sent you to my side, and what you
do must be right."

"In the first place, I must prepare some splints to keep it in its
place."

Leaving the Afghan, Angus searched among the bushes until he found a
shrub which was thick enough for the purpose. He and Azim with their
knives cut this down near the root, and then divided it into lengths,
split each of these and smoothed the pieces until they were perfectly
even. He then tore off several long strips of cloth to form bandages,
and calling to the two men, he returned to the wounded Afghan. The
patient was lifted into another position, where he could place his left
foot against a rock.

"Now, chief," Angus said, "you must with that leg prevent yourself from
being pulled forward; my servant will hold you round the body, so as to
aid you; the other two men will take hold of your right leg and pull
it, while as soon as it is sufficiently stretched I shall press the
broken ends into their position. I am afraid that the pain will be very
severe, but you will be much easier afterwards. At present the ends of
the bones are tearing your flesh."

"An Afghan can bear pain," the chief said quietly; "do as you will."

"Now," Angus said to the soldiers, "take a firm hold above the ankle,
and draw as steadily and quietly as you can, but with all your
strength."

The resistance of the muscles was so great that it was only by
exercising their utmost power that the men got them to yield. At last
Angus felt the end of the bone on which he was pressing suddenly slip
into its place. Then for the first time he looked round. No sound had
escaped the Afghan's lips, but the agony had been so intense that he
had fainted.

"Now, give me a long bandage, Azim; you need not hold him any longer.
Double up a cloak or something and lift him and put it under him, so
that I can pass the bandage round and round."

First a wad of thick material soaked in water was placed round the leg
at the point of the fracture, and then bandage was added to bandage,
until the limb down to the knee was surrounded by a casing half an inch
thick; then the splints were applied, some reaching only down to the
knee, others to the ankle. These were held in their place by the three
assistants, while Angus again firmly bandaged them. The operation being
completed, he dashed some water on the Afghan's face. The latter soon
opened his eyes.

"It is all over, chief; the bones are in their place again, and if all
goes well, in time the ends may knit firmly together."

"It is easier already," the chief said gratefully. "I no longer feel as
if an evil spirit from Eblis were torturing me with a hot iron."

"I will now see to your shoulder. The wound has ceased bleeding;
therefore I shall but sponge it with cold water and put a bandage on in
case it should break out afresh."

This was soon done. Some cloths soaked in water were laid over the
bandage, then some more fruit was given to the wounded man, and he was
left in the shade, and the men set about cooking a meal. Angus from
time to time went across to see him, and had the satisfaction in the
evening of finding that he had fallen asleep.

"Now, Azim," he said when he returned, "the next thing to do is to
settle what is to be done with him."

"I have been wondering that ever since we found him, master."

"There is a choice of two things: one is that I mount my horse, ride
back to Cabul, report having found a wounded man, and ask that a party
with a stretcher may be sent out to fetch him in early in the morning;
the other is to take him on with us."

Azim looked in surprise. "That would be very difficult, master."

"No doubt it would be difficult, but I think it might be done. There
is no doubt that from his dress and appearance, and from the fact that
he speaks excellent Persian, he is a chief of considerable standing.
In that case his friendship might be invaluable to us, both on our way
down to the frontier, and possibly in the future, which Sir Alexander
Burnes regards as very threatening. It would be worth while, therefore,
to make some sacrifice to carry him down to his friends. I would not do
it if I thought the journey would harm him, but I believe the cold air
of the mountains would be vastly better for him than the heat of the
plains round Cabul. He may suffer somewhat from jolting, but I think
that we can obviate that if we cut two strong poles about fifteen feet
long, attach them to the pack-saddles of two horses, and by securely
fastening a blanket between them make a hammock, in which he can ride
comfortably. The poles would be elastic enough to save sudden jolts; we
can only go at a foot's pace in these passes, and these native horses
are so sure-footed that I think the chance of any accident is extremely
slight. The horses are but lightly weighted, and as the provisions are
consumed we can move a portion of the weight they carry to the one who
takes our food."

"Yes, that would be a good plan, master."

"Another advantage of it would be," Angus went on, "that whereas he
would chafe at being in a hospital in care of the people he hates,
his spirits would naturally rise as he felt that he was returning to
his friends, and this would hasten his recovery. However, I will put
the question to him in the morning. If he decides upon being kept in
camp, I will send you back with a letter to Sir Alexander Burnes for
stretcher-bearers, and you will easily overtake us at our camping-place
to-morrow evening."

In the morning the young chief was better than Angus had even hoped
for. Once or twice during the night fresh water had been poured gently
over the bandages on the wounded shoulder. Like all people living
chiefly in the open air, accustomed to climbing, and to hard exercise,
the Afghans suffer less from wounds than Europeans do. Abstemious in
their habits, comparatively small meat-eaters, lithe and sinewy in
their figures, they speedily recover from wounds unless of a mortal
nature. Angus found that the chief's forehead and hands were cool, and
there were no signs of fever setting in.

"I have been thinking over what would be best for you, and decided to
leave the choice to yourself. I am acquainted with Burnes Sahib, and if
I send my servant with a letter I know that he will at once send out a
party to carry you into hospital, where you will be well cared for."

"I would rather die than accept kindness at their hands," the Afghan
said firmly.

"In that case there seems no other course but for me to construct
a litter between two of my pack-horses, and to carry you over the
mountains to Kundur."

"And would you thus burden yourself with a stranger?" the Afghan asked
in a tone of great surprise.

"Certainly I would for a wounded stranger," Angus said; "but I do not
think that there will be any great trouble, and I will try to make the
journey as easy for you as possible." He then explained how he intended
to carry him. The face of the wounded man lit up. He had permitted
Angus to set his limb because he believed it was destiny that had sent
him to his aid. He felt sure that the man who had taken such trouble
with him would leave a store of provisions within his reach, and that
possibly some of the natives might come along and carry him to their
village, and so tend him until his strength was restored. It was but a
faint hope, for now that winter was approaching the men from the upper
villages would have come down into the plain, and the chances were but
slight that any would enter the gorge. His hope rested chiefly in the
belief that, as he had been so unexpectedly saved from death, his final
deliverance would also be effected; but that this kind trader should
offer to carry him up the passes had never entered his mind, and his
pale cheek flushed with pleasure.

"Certainly I will go with you if you will take me," he said joyfully;
"nobly indeed do you carry out the precept of the Prophet, to be
compassionate to all those who need it."

"Let us say no more about it, chief. It will be a pleasure to me to see
you grow stronger, and I doubt not that the mountain air will benefit
you greatly, and I shall have my reward in seeing you regaining your
strength. We have meat with us, but it will be better for you to take
fruit and a little bread."

Two soldiers were sent out, and presently returned with poles of the
desired length and thickness. Breakfast was then eaten. Afterwards the
poles, a long blanket having been firmly lashed between them, were
securely fastened against the horses' flanks under their burdens. In
this way a hammock was formed in which, while the body and legs were
below the level of the poles, the head was somewhat above them. A cloak
was rolled up to make a pillow, and the chief was then gently lifted
and laid in it.

They started at daybreak, rested in the shade for three or four hours
in the middle of the day, and then continued their journey till late in
the evening. After two days' travel the halt was no longer necessary,
for they were now far above the level of the plain. The air was fresh
during the day, and at night all were glad to cover themselves with
their long coats lined with sheep-skin.

Angus had made no attempt to discover the position of the ball in the
shoulder of the wounded chief. Even if he found it, he had neither the
instruments nor the skill necessary for its removal. The only thing
he could do was to keep the cloths bathed with cold water to prevent
inflammation setting in.

The track they were following sometimes disappeared altogether, and
Angus often congratulated himself upon having the young chief with him,
for the latter had twice before crossed the mountains, and was able to
tell him which line to take. The day's journey varied much in length,
being from fifteen to twenty-five miles, according as they found a
suitable halting-place. They always camped where there was water,
emptying the skins and filling them afresh as often as possible. At
times the ground was covered with snow. This they thawed in a pot over
a fire of brushwood, of which they were careful to gather some at every
opportunity on the day's march.

The chief and Angus occupied the little tent, while Azim slept with the
two soldiers in a shelter composed of blankets. Every day there was
a visible improvement in the state of the wounded man; the cool air
acted as a tonic to his system. The first two or three days his arm
pained him a good deal, though he had never once complained of it. It
was kept bound to his side, and by means of splints and bandages the
shoulder was held in its natural position; more than this Angus had not
attempted. He believed that the shoulder was broken, but even of this
he was not sure, and could only hope that the bone would knit together
itself. One day, however, in reply to his questions the Afghan admitted
that he felt a burning pain just over the left shoulder, and feeling,
Angus perceived a hard substance apparently but a short distance under
the skin.

"There is no doubt that this is the ball," he said. "A surgeon would
cut down upon it, and get it out easily enough."

"Then why do you not do it? you seem very skilful."

"I have had no practice," he said. "My father was a trader of Tabriz.
He was a good man and very much respected. The poor often came to him
in cases of accidents, and I have many a time seen him bandage broken
limbs, that is why I was able to do it; but of bullet wounds I know
nothing."

"Take my dagger and cut down to it at once; the pain of a cut is
nothing. Cut fearlessly and deeply, so that you can take hold of the
ball with your fingers."

After some hesitation Angus agreed to do so, for, by the pain it was
causing, the bullet might set up inflammation.

"It is a mere nothing," the Afghan said. "I have frequently cut out
bullets from my tribesmen."

The chief's dagger was as keen as a razor, and seeing that his patient
really wished it, Angus performed the operation. He had to cut three
times before he could manage to get hold of the bullet. The Afghan
himself did not once flinch.

"That is well," he said, when the ball was extracted. "Now, bring the
edges together again, put a piece of wet rag over them, and then tie a
bandage tightly round me; by the end of a week there will be nothing
but a scar remaining."

Two days later they arrived at Bamian. As they entered the little town
a native officer of a Ghoorka regiment came out and demanded their
business. For the first time Angus was unable to give an answer in the
language in which he was addressed. Knowing, however, the purport of
the question, he showed his letter to Lieutenant Mackenzie. The native
was unable to read English, but called to an English artilleryman, who
at once came up. On seeing the letter he motioned to the pretended
trader to follow him, and conducted him to the house where Lieutenant
Mackenzie lodged.

"There is a man outside who has a letter for you, sir," he said
saluting.

"An Englishman?"

"No, sir, one of these traders, I think. He has some horses with packs,
and he has a wounded or dead man in a litter."

"Show him in."

Angus on entering said in Persian, "My orders are to deliver this
letter to you when alone, sir."

The lieutenant signed to two orderlies, to whom he had at the time been
giving orders, and Angus then went on in English: "You do not remember
me, Lieutenant Mackenzie. I am Angus Campbell, on the staff of Sir
Alexander Burnes."

"Oh, yes, I remember you now," the officer said, rising and shaking him
by the hand. "Of course we have met many times, but in that Persian
dress I did not know you again. I suppose you have come to see how we
are getting on?"

"No. I am on a mission across the mountains to see what Dost Mahomed is
really doing there, as you will see by this letter."

The officer glanced through it. "I see you do not want the natives
here--there are not many of them--to be asking any questions. Let me
see. We are pretty closely packed, as you may imagine. I could give you
a room here, but that would hardly do."

"No, it would not do at all," Angus said. "It would appear strange
indeed to the natives if you were to so honour a travelling merchant.
I can do very well without a room, for I have a tent that I have used
on my journey. All I wish is that you give an order that we shall not
be in any way interfered with."

"That I can do easily enough, and will put a sentry over your
encampment with orders that no one is to enter into conversation with
your followers."

"Thank you; that is just what I desire."

"I hear that one of your men is ill, can anything be done for him? We
have a doctor with us, and you could leave the man in hospital, and
he could either make his way back when cured, or follow you--though
I doubt whether that would be possible, as the passes will soon be
completely blocked with snow. As soon as we are sure of this we shall
return to Cabul, so we are looking forward eagerly, as you may imagine,
for the news that they have become impassable."

"Thank you. The man met with an accident by falling from his horse, but
I doctored him as well as I could, and I think in another day or two he
will be able to sit a horse; and as he knows the passes, I must keep
him with me, for already the paths are in many cases obliterated by
snow, and I should fare badly indeed without him."

"Yes, I see that. How long are you going to stay here?"

"I shall start again the day after to-morrow. It is most important that
I should push on, for the passes may be closed any day. I will give the
horses and men one day's rest, that is all that I can afford now. I
will say good-bye, for it would not do for you to be seen speaking to
me again."

"No, I suppose it would not do for you to come here, but I will after
dark to-night come down and have a chat with you. I have had no news
from Cabul for the last fortnight. There would be no harm in that,
would there?"

"No; I should be very glad if you would come in that way."

Half an hour later the tents were erected, and two sentries were placed
near them to warn off all intruders. Angus went into the little town,
and made some purchases from three small traders who had remained
there, and had been well rewarded for doing so by the prices they
obtained from the troops for their stores. Lieutenant Mackenzie, on
his arrival, had ordered them to send all the liquor they had to his
quarters, telling them that unless they agreed to this they would not
be allowed to remain, and promising that the liquor should be returned
to them when the troops left. Their stores were almost exhausted, but
Angus was able to purchase some rice, a pot of ghee, and a sack of
grain for the horses. At eight o'clock Mackenzie came down. Sadut Khan
had been apprised of the intended visit, and had willingly consented to
be carried for the time into the other tent, so that Angus had his to
himself.

"It is a snug little tent," Mackenzie said when he entered it; "not
much head room, but that is of no consequence, as it is only a place
for sleeping in. I am ashamed to come empty-handed, but I only brought
a couple of bottles of spirits with me, and they are both empty long
ago. I can't drink this beastly native stuff. And besides, the room in
which I stored all there was in the place when I got here is locked
up. I made the traders put their seals to it so that there could be no
dispute about the quantities when I handed them over."

"Thank you," Angus said; "I don't touch spirits. Whatever may be the
case in other places, I am convinced that men are better off without
them in a country like this. Certainly they are best avoided in hot
weather; and I think even in the cold weather coffee is infinitely
better, and I have brought a good store of that with me. Now, make
yourself as comfortable as you can. Fill your pipe from that jar, it is
the best Persian tobacco. Then when the coffee comes in I will give you
the news from Cabul."

A large jug of coffee, with two silver horns which Angus had bought
before starting, was soon brought in, and then Angus told what had
happened at Cabul since the last letter Mackenzie had received.

"Then you don't think things are going on well?" Mackenzie said when he
had concluded.

"No, there is much disaffection among the lower class in the city.
The tribesmen are restless and discontented. It was a great mistake
to allow Shah Soojah the entire control of all civilian matters;
the consequence is that the people are grievously oppressed by the
tax-gatherers. The Ameer himself is impatient at the slightest attempt
to control him. He renders himself intensely unpopular by hardly ever
appearing in public, by his refusal to grant audiences, and by his
haughtiness and arrogance to those whom he does admit to his presence.
I am certain that he could not maintain himself for a day if we were
to march away, and I don't see how we can leave him to his fate.
Altogether the situation is very difficult, and I am afraid it will end
badly. They want a strong man at the head of affairs. I do not think
that Macnaghten is a strong man. Keane is a good soldier, but it is
said that he will return to England in the spring."

"And how about Burnes?"

"Burnes is my chief," Angus said with a smile; "but I can say this,
I believe that if he were in Macnaghten's place things would go on
better. At present, however, he has no authority of any kind. He
differs from Macnaghten on almost every point, and any advice he gives
is almost contemptuously neglected."

"It is a queer state of affairs," Mackenzie said. "However, I suppose
we shall get out all right in the end. It is a way we have. We
generally make a muddle in the beginning, but our fighting power has
pulled us through. Well, I will be going now; it is eleven o'clock. I
think that it would be better that I should not come again to-morrow."

"I think so too. If the Afghans here entertained the smallest suspicion
that you were visiting me, they would feel sure that I was not the
trader I pretended to be, and would find means of sending a message
across the mountains, which would result in the failure of my mission
and my own certain death."

After a hearty farewell, and an expression of the best wishes for the
success of his mission, Mackenzie said good-bye and left the tent. The
Afghan chief was carried back into it, and in a few minutes all in the
little camp were asleep.




CHAPTER XI

A DANGEROUS JOURNEY


Angus made every effort to secure the services of a native well
acquainted with the passes as guide, but was altogether unsuccessful.
The difficulties were, they declared, insurmountable, the danger
overwhelming.

"I must see what I can do," Sadut Khan said, when Angus informed him
that the natives were all of opinion that the snow was too heavy and
the danger too great for the pass to be attempted. "We stayed here for
some days, when I crossed the hills with Dost Mahomed. There is a petty
chief living in a village two miles away; if he is still there, I
think he would accompany you. Whether or not, I am certain he would not
divulge the secret of my being here to anyone."

"I will go myself to see him," Angus said. "I hope indeed he will
accompany us, for if not, I fear that our journey has come to an end,
as the offers I have made would have tempted any of the natives here to
go with me if they had thought it possible. Shall I mention your name
to him?"

"Say to him only that a chief of the Momunds, whom he knew here three
months ago, desires to speak to him."

Angus at once mounted his horse and rode to the foot of the hill
upon which the village with the tower of its chief was perched. Then
fastening the bridle to a stunted shrub, he made his way up the steep
ascent on foot. The place did not contain more than a dozen houses. As
he passed through these, natives wrapped in sheep-skin jackets came to
the door and gazed at him with angry scowls. As he reached the door of
the tower four armed men came out.

"What would you here, stranger?" one of them said.

"I would speak a few words with your chief."

"He does not want either to buy or to sell," the man said shortly.

"I do not seek to sell," Angus said. "I have a message of importance to
him."

One of them went into the tower, and returning in a minute, motioned to
Angus to follow him. The chief, a tall and powerful man of middle age,
was seated on the floor of a room in the upper story of the tower. Near
him was a large earthenware pan, in which a charcoal fire was burning.

"Why come you here, Persian?" he said, "and what message can one like
you bear to me?"

Angus repeated the message that Sadut Khan had given him. The chief
rose to his feet suddenly. "You lie!" he said fiercely, "he is dead.
The news came to us a week since."

"Nevertheless, he gave me that message; and if you will come with me to
Bamian you will see for yourself that he is not dead, though it is true
that he has been sorely hurt."

"I go not into Bamian," the chief said. "I have not put foot in
the town since the accursed infidels came there. They have held no
communication with me, nor I with them. This may be a trick to lure me
there and make me prisoner."

"If they had desired to do so," Angus said quietly, "they would have
sent a hundred men with a gun or two, and not a mere trader. Besides,
how could they have told that a Momund chief had been here with Dost
Mahomed when he passed through?"

"Many could have told you that," the chief said, "seeing that, next to
the Ameer himself, he was the most observed of the party."

"Well, chief, if you will not go, I have nothing to do but to return
and inform him that you refuse to come and see him."

"How can he be there, in the midst of the enemy, unless indeed he is a
prisoner?"

"He is not a prisoner; he lies in my tent. You can see him without
entering Bamian, for my camp is outside the town. What motive, chief,
could I have in deceiving you?"

"I will go," the chief said suddenly. "It shall not be said that I
refused to answer such a call, however improbable it might seem."

He threw on a cloak lined with sheep-skins, and telling his men that
unless something befell him he would be back by noon, he led the way
down the hill. Angus mounted his horse when he reached it and rode
beside him. For some distance the Afghan did not speak.

"Do you know the name of this chief?" he asked abruptly when half the
distance had been traversed.

"It is Sadut Khan, the fighting chief of the Momunds, and a nephew by
marriage of the Ameer."

The Afghan had not expected this reply.

"You must be in his confidence indeed, Persian, or he would not thus
have disclosed himself when in the midst of those who would hail his
capture as one of the most valuable prizes."

"He has, as you say, faith in me," Angus said quietly, "and will,
doubtless, when you see him, give you his reason for that trust in me."

"Your story must be true, and I believe it; forgive me for at first
doubting it. But having heard that the chief had been killed, I thought
this was a plot of some kind."

"It was natural that you should not believe me," Angus said. "You could
scarce credit that he was alive, and, what was still more strange,
that he should be in a town occupied by the English, and yet not be a
prisoner."

"This is a fortunate day for me, indeed," the Afghan said. "There is
no chief whose name is more honoured in the country than that of Sadut
Khan. He is as brave as a lion, good to his people, and faithful to
Dost Mahomed, when so many have fallen away from him. The Ameer regards
him as if he were a favourite son, and it will gladden his heart
indeed, and lessen his troubles, when he learns that he is still alive."

Avoiding the town they went straight to Sadut. Angus dismounted and led
the way to his little white tent, and, raising the flap, said to the
chief, "He is here; enter."

The Afghan did so; and thinking it best to leave them together for a
time, Angus strolled away and saw that his horse was, as usual, well
wrapped up in a thick felt blanket. It was half an hour before the
chief made his appearance at the entrance to the tent and looked round.

Angus at once spoke to him.

"My friend," said the chief, "I again ask your pardon for doubting you
for a moment. Allah will surely bless you for the good work you have
done. Sadut Khan has told me all, and it passes my understanding why
a stranger should have cumbered himself with a wounded man of whom he
knew nothing."

"Does not the Koran bid us succour the afflicted?"

"That is true, my friend, but there are surely limits. One will do
great things for a friend, one may do something for a stranger, but to
hinder one's journey and cumber one's self with a wounded stranger is
surely more than can be expected of us."

Angus now entered the tent.

"My trust in the chief was not misplaced," Sadut Khan said. "He will
act as our guide across the mountains, though he doubts whether it will
be possible to cross the passes. If it is the will of Allah, Persian,
that we should not, we can but die."

"That is so," Angus said; "but the passes may not be as badly blocked
as we expect."

"We can hardly hope that," the chief replied, shaking his head. "The
last party that came over reported that they had never known it so bad.
This was a week ago, and since then the sky has always been dull to
the north, and it has surely been snowing there. However, to-day it is
lighter, and maybe no more snow will fall for a time. We had best lose
not an hour in starting. I shall take four of my men with me. We have
no horses, but that matters not at all, for the passage will have to be
made on foot. Let us move to-morrow at daybreak, and travel as far as
we can before it is dark."

When the arrangements were all settled, Angus went into the village and
bought some more grain, cheese, and other food, also a store of extra
blankets, and two other native tents; these were to be packed on his
horse and Azim's. Among other things he bought two native lamps for
each tent, and a good supply of oil, a roll of flannel for tearing into
strips for winding round the feet and legs, and he was then satisfied
that he had done all in his power to render the enterprise a success.
Before daybreak next morning Hassan, the Afghan chief, arrived with
four of his followers, all strong and sinewy men. The animals were
speedily packed; Sadut's litter was placed between two of the horses
which were more lightly loaded than the others, and they set out just
as daylight was spreading over the sky.

The speed with which the start was effected was in itself a sign that
all felt the gravity of the task before them. Angus had the evening
before explained to the two soldiers that the journey before them was
one of tremendous difficulty, and offered to leave them in charge of
Lieutenant Mackenzie till spring, when they could return to Cabul and
rejoin their regiment; but they would not hear of it.

"We are both mountain men," one said, "and if others can get through
we can. At any rate, we will risk anything rather than return with
blackened faces and say that we had feared to follow our officer."

The morning was bitterly cold, but the sky was clear.

"We shall do well to-day," Hassan said to Angus, "and the horses are
fresh. As for to-morrow, who can say?"

The snow was knee-deep when they got beyond the village. The ascent
began almost at once and was heavy work both for men and horses.

They continued their journey till it was too dark to go farther, then
they halted in a ravine which afforded some shelter from the piercing
wind. All set to work to clear away the snow where the tents were
to be pitched, but before raising these the horses were attended to.
Blankets were girded round them from the ears to the tail, and they
were picketed touching each other for mutual warmth. A supply of corn
was then laid down before each on some square pieces of felt placed
on the snow. When the tents were pitched the lamps were lighted and
the flaps closed, then snow was scraped up outside until the canvas
was covered nearly to the top. In spite of the intense cold all were
thoroughly warmed by their hard work before they turned in. Angus took
Azim into his tent, the rest divided themselves among the other two. At
other times it would have been unpleasant to be so closely packed, but
in such weather it was an advantage.

Before setting to work to pile the snow against the tents a brass
kettle filled with water had been suspended from the ridge-pole over
the lamps, and the water was almost boiling by the time the work was
finished, and in a few minutes coffee was made. The frozen carcasses of
four sheep had been brought, as well as a large quantity of meat that
had been cooked on the previous day. Some slices of the latter were
thawed over the lamp and eaten with bread that had been purchased at
Bamian. But few words were spoken after the meal was finished, their
fatigue and the warmth of the tent rendering it difficult for them to
keep awake. In a few minutes all were sound asleep. The next day's
march was even more arduous. Sadut had given up his litter and again
mounted his horse, as it was found impossible for the two animals
linked together by the hammock to make their way up the steep place.
The work was toilsome in the extreme, but all worked cheerfully.

Hassan and his four men laboured with the greatest vigour, carrying
burdens to places which horses when laden could not have climbed,
hauling the animals out of deep drifts into which they frequently
fell, carrying Sadut Khan in his litter at points where the ascent was
so steep that, crippled as he still was by his injured leg, he could
not have retained his seat in the saddle. The party worked in almost
complete silence, but with a stern determination and energy which
showed their consciousness that every moment was of importance. Twelve
miles were the result of as many hours of labour. No signs of a track
had been visible since they left Bamian, and Angus felt how absolutely
impossible it would have been to cross the pass had it not been for
the intimate knowledge of Hassan and his followers; even these were
sometimes at fault. None of them had ever passed over the mountains
when so deeply covered with snow, and consultations constantly took
place between them as to the line to be followed. When they arrived at
their halting-place for the night, Hassan told Angus and the Momund
chief that they were now within two hundred feet of the top of the pass.

"To-morrow's work will be the most dangerous; the north wind sweeps
across the plateau with terrible force. Moreover, I do not like the
look of the sky this evening. We have been fortunate so far, but I
think that there will be a change."

"It is well, indeed," Sadut said as they ate their supper, "that we
crossed the highest pass before the snow began in earnest; we certainly
could not have supported that journey had we been ten days later. We
have got through the hardest part of the work, and everything now
depends upon the weather. May Allah grant that there be no more snow.
The pass to-morrow is but twelve miles across, and if all goes well we
shall begin to descend on the following morning. If the snow holds off
we shall be able to do that distance easily, for it is almost a level
plain that we have to traverse. Parts of it will be nearly clear of
snow, which the fierce blasts sweep away as fast as it falls, while in
other places the surface will be hard enough to walk on, the snow being
pressed firmly together by the weight of the wind."

They were on foot again next morning even earlier than usual. All were
aware of the importance of haste. The tents were pulled down and loaded
with the greatest rapidity. The cold was intense, and but few words
were spoken until they reached the summit of the ascent, by which time
the effort of climbing had restored the heat that had been lost as soon
as they left their warm tents. The sky was cloudless, and Angus felt
hopeful that the day's journey would be accomplished with comparative
ease. He noticed, however, that there was an anxious look on the faces
of the five tribesmen, who, although they were travelling more rapidly
than they had done since they left Bamian, were constantly urging
horses and men to press forward at a greater speed. Angus had expected
that they would have to face very strong wind, but scarce a breath was
blowing.

As Sadut had predicted, the rock was in many places completely bare.
The fields of snow were so hard that, instead of struggling knee-deep
as before, they now seldom sank over their feet, and sometimes left
scarcely a track upon the surface. The hills on either side stood up
clear and hard, and the silence was almost oppressive. They were, they
calculated, half-way across the pass three hours after leaving their
camp, when Hassan, who was walking beside Angus and Sadut, stopped
suddenly and pointed to the sky. Looking up Angus saw two or three
little wisps of vapour passing overhead with extraordinary speed.

"The storm!" Hassan exclaimed. "See, others are coming; it will soon be
upon us. We can go no farther, but must prepare to meet it instantly or
we shall be overwhelmed."

Knowing that Hassan would not have spoken thus unless from the direst
necessity, Angus at once ordered a halt. The plateau was perfectly
flat, and nowhere could any shelter be obtained, and they were now on
an expanse of hard snow. Urged by the shouts and exclamations of Hassan
all hastened to unload the animals. As soon as this was done, Angus
ordered the tents to be pitched.

"It is useless," Hassan said, "they would be blown down in an instant.
Let them lie open on the snow. Let each man take his two blankets and
keep them by him in readiness, and when the storm begins let him wrap
himself up in these, and then let those who are tent-fellows lie down
together on one side of the tent, pull the other over them, and roll
themselves in it. I and my men will be the last to take shelter, and we
will pile the sacks and saddles over the ends to keep them down. But
first put all the extra blankets over the horses and fasten them over
their heads, and let them hang down well behind. They will turn their
backs to the wind. Make all those that are accustomed to lie down do
so. Range the others close to them."

Ten minutes of hard work and all was ready. Then they had time to look
round. The sky was hidden from view by masses of black clouds streaming
along. The men took their places on their tents and wrapped their
blankets round in readiness.

"Lie down at once!" Hassan ordered. "It will be upon us almost
immediately."

The men did so. Hassan and his followers pulled the felt covering over
them, pushing the edge of the upper side under them as far as possible.
Then they piled baggage and saddles on the ends. Angus, with Azim and
Sadut, remained standing till the last. Hassan ran up to them with his
men.

"Quick!" he said, "the storm will be upon us immediately."

Glancing ahead as he lay down, Angus saw what looked like a white mist
in the distance, and knew that it must be snow swept up by the force of
the wind. Half a minute and they were tucked up in the thick felt; this
was weighted at both ends.

"Allah preserve you!" Hassan shouted, then all was silent. A minute
later the storm struck them with such force that they felt as if
pressed down by a heavy weight. Had they been inclined to speak they
could not have heard each other, so loud was the howl of the wind.
Wrapped up in their sheep-skin posteens and blankets, they did not feel
the cold. For some time Angus lay and wondered how long this would
last. Presently he fell asleep, the warmth, after the bitterly cold air
outside, overpowering even the thought of danger. He was lying between
Sadut and Azim, who, like himself, lay without moving. Indeed, movement
would have been difficult, so tightly was the tent wrapped round them.
He slept for many hours vaguely conscious of the roar and fury of the
gale. When he awoke at last it was with a sense of suffocation, a heavy
weight seemed to press upon him, and the sound of the storm had ceased.

"Are you awake?" he asked the others, but he had to shake them before
he obtained an answer.

"Something must be done," he went on, as soon as they were capable of
understanding him. "We shall be suffocated if we don't let some air in."

"That is true," Sadut said. "The snow is evidently piled up round us.
We must let air in, or we shall perish."

But in spite of their efforts they found it impossible to move forward
to get to the end of the roll.

"We must cut our way out; it is our only chance," Angus said, and
turning on to his back, he managed to get out his long Afghan knife,
and cut a slit three feet long in the felt. As he did so, the snow
came pouring in through the opening.

"Do you both put your hands under my shoulders," he said, "and help me
to sit up."

It was not until he had cut a transverse slit so as to allow the hole
to open wider that he was able to do so.

"The snow is not packed very hard," he said, as he pressed it aside.
"It can't be very deep, for I can see light."

It was not long before he was on his feet, and had pushed the snow
sufficiently back to enable his companions to get out also. The feeling
of suffocation was already relieved, as a sufficient amount of air
made its way through the snow, and after five minutes' hard work they
clambered out. The gale was still blowing, though not so violently as
at first, the snow still falling thickly. Two white mounds marked the
position of the other tents, elsewhere a wide expanse of level snow was
seen. It was evident that, as it drifted, it had first heaped itself
against the tent. More had settled beyond it, and so gradually mounds
had risen until they were seven or eight feet high.

"We must rescue the others at once," Angus said.

On the windward side the snow was so hard that their hands made no
impression upon it, but on the sheltered side it was lighter, and
working with their hands they were soon able to clear it away down to
the end of the tent beneath which Hassan and three of his followers
were lying. It was not, like the others, closed there, as its occupants
had been unable to place weights on it after they had rolled themselves
up. As soon as they had cleared the snow and opened the felt out a
little, Sadut called--

"Are you awake, Hassan?"

"I am awake," he replied, "but am bound down hand and foot."

They cleared the snow off until they saw a foot. Taking hold of this
together they pulled and gradually drew one of the men out. The other
three were extricated more easily. They found that these had not
suffered so much from a sense of suffocation as the first party had
done, as, the ends of the roll being open, a certain amount of air had
found its way through the snow. Half an hour's hard work sufficed to
rescue the occupants of the other tent. The three were unconscious, but
the cold blast speedily brought them round.

"What is to be done next?" Angus asked Hassan.

"The gale is still far too severe for us to move," the latter answered.
"We had best clear away the snow over the tents, and then take to them
again."

After two hours' work the tents were cleared. The men had worked from
above, throwing out the snow over the sides of the mound, so that when
they had finished the tents lay at the bottoms of sloping holes. A meal
was then eaten, and lifting the upper covering of felt they lay down
again and closed it over them. The sun was in the east, and they knew
that some fifteen hours had elapsed since the gale had struck them.
A mound of snow had marked where the horses were lying. They did not
interfere with these, for Hassan said that the horses would be able to
breathe through the snow, and probably the heat of their bodies had
melted it immediately round them, and they would be much warmer than
if the snow were cleared off. Before turning in Hassan and his men
managed to erect the tent of their leaders. Lying as it did in a crater
of snow, it was sheltered from the force of the wind. Holes were made
with a dagger on each side of the slit that Angus had cut, and the
edges tied together by a strip of leather. A couple of lamps and oil
were taken from the sack in which they were carried, and also the bag
of corn, and the little party after filling their vessels with snow and
hanging them over the lamps, and closing the entrance to the tent,
soon felt comfortable again.

"It has been a narrow escape," Sadut said. "Had it not been for your
thinking of cutting the tent, and so enabling us to make our way out,
the whole caravan would assuredly have perished. Now, we have only an
imprisonment for another day or two at most, and can then proceed on
our journey."

The next morning the gale had ceased, though the snow continued to
fall. By mid-day the sky cleared, and all issuing out from their
shelters prepared for a start. It took them an hour's work to extricate
the horses; one of these, a weakly animal, had died, the others
appeared uninjured by their imprisonment. All the vessels in the camp
had been used for melting snow, and a drink of warm water with some
flour stirred into it was given to each of the animals, and an extra
feed of corn. As soon as they had eaten this, the baggage was packed on
their backs, and the party moved forward. It was heavy work. The snow
that had fallen since the force of the wind had abated was soft, and
the animals sank fetlock-deep in it. But after three hours' travelling,
they reached the end of the pass and began to descend. Two hours later
they halted at a spot where a wall of rock afforded shelter against the
wind from the north.

"Allah be praised that we have reached this point!" Hassan said. "Now
the worst is over. I can see that we shall have another storm before an
hour is past, they generally follow each other when they once begin.
But here we are safe, and it was for this that I said 'No' when you
proposed that we should halt at the mouth of the pass."

The tents were soon erected, great stones being placed on the lower
edge to steady them against the gusts of wind. Then a diligent search
was made for wood, and enough bushes were found to make a good fire.
Strips of meat from one of the frozen sheep were cooked, the kettles
were boiled, cakes of flour and ghee were baked, and the travellers
made a hearty meal. The horses were each given half a bucket of warm
water, thickened with flour, and a double feed of grain. Then all sat
round the fire smoking and talking until it burned low, when, in spite
of their sheep-skin coats, the bitter cold soon made itself felt.
They had scarcely turned into their tents when the storm, as Hassan
had predicted, burst. Except for an occasional gust they felt it but
little, and slept soundly until morning, when they found that light
snow had eddied down, and was lying two feet deep. The day was spent in
cooking and attending to their own wants and those of the horses.

For two days they were prisoners, then the gale abated, and they
continued their journey, and late that evening arrived at the village
of Chol. Here they were received with hospitality by the natives,
who were astounded that in such weather the caravan should have made
its way over the pass. Resting here for two days, they travelled to
Kala Sarkari. Sadut now took the lead, for the chief of the village
seeing three horses loaded with merchandise demanded toll; but, Sadut
announcing himself as a nephew of Dost Mahomed, and saying that the
whole party were under his protection, the threatening attitude that
the inhabitants began to assume was at once calmed. Four days' travel,
with halts at small villages, took them to Balkh. Here, on declaring
himself, Sadut was received with great honour, and was entertained at
the governor's house, where Dost Mahomed was lying ill. No attention
was bestowed upon Hassan and his followers, who walked behind him, and
were reported as having been the means of his safety. Angus with his
party kept some little distance in the rear and took up their quarters
at a khan unnoticed, but when Sadut was seen to call early the next
morning upon the Persian trader and remain with him for a considerable
time, it was understood that they were under his protection, and no
enquiries were made by the authorities of the town.

On the third day Sadut said to Angus: "I regret that the Ameer is ill.
Had it not been for that he would have received you. I told him of the
services you have rendered me, and that but for you a few hours would
have ended my life. He said that he would like to see so noble a man,
and to give him a fitting testimonial of gratitude for the service done
to his sister's son. He requested me to bring you to him as soon as he
is able to rise from his couch; and when he enters Cabul in triumph,
as he assuredly will do ere long, he hopes that you will establish
yourself there. I can promise you that your business shall flourish."

"I thank you heartily, Khan, for having spoken to the Ameer about me,"
Angus said gravely, "but I cannot receive a present from Dost Mahomed.
I have intended many times to tell you more about myself, and I feel
that I must do so now. You are my friend, and I cannot remain in a
false position with you. As long as we were travelling together, no
harm was done; it mattered not to you who was the man who had aided
you in your extremity. But the case is different now. You were then a
sorely wounded man, who needed what aid I could give you; now you are
a close relation of Dost Mahomed, and a powerful Afghan chief, so the
case is changed. Dost Mahomed, and no doubt yourself, know what is
passing in Cabul by means of your friends there, who see all that is
going on. The English general, on the other hand, knows nothing of what
is passing beyond the ground patrolled by his cavalry.

"It was important for him to learn what was passing on this side of the
mountains, and he selected me, an officer in his army, on account of my
knowledge of Persian and Pushtoo, to cross the mountains and ascertain
what prospect there was of Dost Mahomed's returning with an army to
Cabul in the spring. I confide my secret to you as to a friend. You can
see that it would be impossible for me to accept presents from Dost
Mahomed in my character of a Persian merchant, and for the same reason
I should abstain from questioning you, or even allowing you to give
me any information as to the military preparations going on. To do so
would be to take an unfair advantage of the chances that enabled me to
be of service."

Angus had thought the matter over, and knew that while such work as he
was engaged in would, if discovered, cost him his life, it would be
regarded by the Afghans as a legitimate means of obtaining information;
and although if caught he would be killed as an enemy, his action would
be regarded as showing that he was a man of great bravery thus to place
himself in the power of an enemy. This was the view, indeed, in which
Sadut Khan regarded it.

"You have done well to tell me," he said gravely. "It was truly the
act of a brave man not only to risk discovery here, but to undertake
the terrible adventure of crossing the passes when winter had fairly
set in, in order to obtain information for your general. Still more
do I wonder that you should have burdened yourself with the care of
an enemy, one who was fighting against your people. It was wonderful
on the part of a Persian trader, it is far more so on the part of one
against whom I was fighting, who is not of my religion, who was engaged
upon an enterprise of such a nature, and to whom speed was a matter of
the greatest importance. Had it not been for the slow pace at which you
travelled with me, you might have crossed all the passes before they
were blocked. I shall fight against your people as before, but I shall
respect them now I see that although our religions differ, there are
good things in their beliefs as in ours, and that even the Koran has
no lessons in charity and kindliness stronger than those that you have
learned from the teaching of your own religion.

"What I thought wonderful on the part of a Persian merchant is still
more marvellous on the part of an English officer, who could have no
possible interest in saving a dying man; and who, indeed, might have
gained credit by delivering him into the hands of his countrymen, since
so long as I was a prisoner in their hands, I should be a hostage for
the quiet behaviour of my people. You can do no harm to us by your
enquiries here; it is known by all on this side of the mountains that
the Ameer will in the spring endeavour to turn out the usurper; it is
known already to every sheik from Candahar to Jellalabad. Whether he
will come with ten thousand or twenty thousand men matters little;
when he appears, all Afghanistan will rise. Your generals might have
been sure that it would be so without sending to make enquiries.
I cannot tell you with what force we shall come. It will not be a
great army; even in summer a large force could scarcely traverse the
passes. It is not on the force that he will take from here that Dost
Mahomed relies; it is on the host he will gather round him when he
crosses the mountains. We have learned that the disaffection to Soojah
is everywhere on the increase. There were many who did not love the
Barukzyes, but they know now that things are worse instead of better
since the change, for the man has made himself hated by his arrogance,
his contempt for the people in general, and the extortion exercised by
his tax-gatherers.

"There is no secret in all this, your own officers must know it. What
you will not learn, for the decision will not be made until the spring,
is the line by which the Ameer will advance. There are many passes
by which he may then cross; or he may go round by Herat, and gather
forces as he advances. Or again, he might go east, and crossing by the
passes there, come down through Chitral to Jellalabad."

"That I can well understand, Khan. Of course I have already learned
that there is no doubt that Dost Mahomed is preparing to cross the
passes in the spring, and that he is sure of the support of the
tribesmen on this side of the mountains."

"He could gather a very large army if he chose," Sadut said, "but the
difficulty of transporting food for so large a body would be very
great, I think that ten thousand men will be the utmost he could move
with. I am doing no harm in telling you this, because you would soon
learn it in the town, and it is certain that your people could not
prevent his passing the Hindoo Koosh, since he has so many routes to
choose from. His force is not like your army, which, moving with great
trains of baggage, cannon, and ammunition, could only cross by one or
two passes; we can move wherever our horses can climb. And now I will
leave you, for I have some business to attend to; but I will return
this evening."




CHAPTER XII

TROUBLES THICKEN


Angus saw that as he could not hope to obtain further information,
however long he might stay, and as he had fulfilled the main object
of his mission by discovering that Dost Mahomed would not be content
with remaining master of the northern province, but would certainly
advance in the spring, he could do no good by remaining any longer.
The information that he could give would enable Macnaghten and Burnes
to show the Indian government that their intention of withdrawing
more troops in the early spring would be disastrous; and it was with
this special object in view that he had been sent. He had on the two
previous days sold a portion of his goods, but had held out for the
prices with which they were marked. He was now more willing to bargain,
as he wished to travel in future as lightly as possible. Accordingly,
before nightfall he had disposed of nearly half the stock with which he
had started; but he had at the same time purchased a certain amount of
goods from Turkestan, as these would be more appropriate as merchandise
when he started from Balkh for Herat. Sadut came again in the evening.

"My friend," he said, "I have been thinking over your position.
Doubtless you might stay here for some time without its being suspected
that you were other than you seemed to be, but a chance word from one
of your men might betray you, and as you have really learned all that
there is to learn, it seems to me that there is no use in your tarrying
any longer here. It is true that Dost Mahomed, for my sake, would
protect you, even were you discovered. Still, you know the nature of
our people, and were it rumoured that you were an infidel, you might be
torn to pieces before either the Ameer or myself knew aught about it."

"I have come to the same conclusion. If I thought I could gain anything
by remaining I should do so, whatever the risk; but as it would be
useless to stay, I intend to leave to-morrow. I have a long journey to
make via Herat; the sooner I am off the better. My men are now packing
up my goods and preparing for a start at daylight."

"I felt so sure that this would be your course that I have brought with
me an order from the Ameer to the governor and headmen of all towns
and villages through which you may pass, enjoining them to give you
good treatment, as he holds you in high esteem for having rendered most
valuable services to me."

"I thank you very heartily," Angus replied. "This will greatly
facilitate my journey and save me from all small annoyances. I trust
that we shall meet again."

"I hope so indeed. Never shall I forget the debt of gratitude that
I owe you. Perhaps some day I may be able to repay that debt to a
small extent. Remember, that in case of need you may rely upon me
to the utmost. At any rate, you must not refuse to accept this; it
is a present from Dost Mahomed, not to an English officer, but to a
Persian merchant who has saved the life of his sister's son. He talks
continually while with me of the nobility of your action, and when I
told him that you were going he had his turban brought and took out
this gem, which was its chief ornament, and bade me hand it you in
remembrance of the deed. I told him you had said that you would receive
no present for a simple act of humanity. More I could not tell him
without revealing your secret, though I know that it would be safe
with him. You cannot refuse to take this. As for myself, I am here an
exile far away from my own people, and have but this to give you as a
token of my love. It is my signet ring. If you send it to me I will go
through fire and water to come to you. My tribesmen will all recognize
it, and will do anything in their power for its possessor."

Angus saw that, offered as it was, he should greatly hurt the Afghan's
feelings if he refused the immense ruby surrounded by diamonds that
Dost Mahomed had sent him.

"I will not refuse the gift of the Ameer so given to me, and shall
cherish it as my most valued possession and the gift of a man whom
I for one, and I may say most British officers, consider to be very
badly treated by us. I know from Sir Alexander Burnes that Dost Mahomed
was most anxious for our alliance. Shah Soojah is as unpopular among
us as among his own people. Of course, as soldiers, it is not our
business to concern ourselves with politics; that is a matter for the
government only. Still we cannot but have our feelings, and I am sure
that should the fortune of war ever place Dost Mahomed in our hands he
would receive honourable treatment. Your gift I shall prize as highly,
as a token of our warm friendship, and trust that the time may never
come when I have to put its virtue to the test, though I well know that
I could in necessity rely upon any help that you might be able to give
me."

After talking for some time of the best route to follow, Sadut Khan
took an affectionate leave, and Angus started the next morning with his
party. Before setting out he bestowed handsome gifts upon Hassan and
his followers, whom he had learned to like greatly for the devotion
they had shown to Sadut and the energy and courage with which they had
worked during the journey. Travelling from twenty to five-and-twenty
miles a day, with occasional halts, he reached Cabul after two months
of travel. His journey had been greatly facilitated by the order that
he carried from Dost Mahomed. He had not entered Herat, as it was
probable that he would be recognized there. Avoiding the city, he
travelled by the same route as before to Girishk, and then took a road
running a few miles north of Candahar and falling into the main road at
Kelat-i-Ghilzye.

His first step was to see Sir Alexander Burnes and to report to him
that assuredly Dost Mahomed would come south with a considerable force
as soon as the passes were opened. His following would not itself be
very formidable, but he relied upon being joined by all the tribesmen
south of the hills.

"Your news is most opportune," the agent said, "and can hardly fail to
induce the Governor-general to alter his determination to withdraw the
greater part of our force in the spring. Already we have not a man too
many for contingencies that may arise. Now, tell me about your journey.
The winter set in so severely directly you left us that I have been
seriously uneasy about you. I had only one message from Mackenzie after
you had left, it was brought by a native; and he told me that you had
passed through, but that the weather had changed for the worse the day
after you started, and the universal opinion among the natives was that
you and your party had perished."

Angus gave an account of his journey. He had thought over the question
whether it would be wise to mention the episode of the wounded Afghan,
but he concluded that it would be better to do so, as Mackenzie, when
he rejoined the force, might casually mention that he had a sick man
with him; and he therefore told the whole story as it happened.

"I admire your humanity, Mr. Campbell, though it seems almost quixotic
to burden yourself with a wounded man. But, as you say, it was evident
that if you could manage to carry him through he might be of great
service to you. Undoubtedly he would have been a valuable prisoner to
have in our hands, but his gratitude to you may prove valuable to us,
for the Momunds are a powerful tribe, and your conduct to him cannot
but have inspired him with a better feeling towards us than he has
hitherto shown."

"He may have less animosity, sir, but I fear that he will still be
found fighting against us. On the way he spoke many times of his
determination to continue the struggle until Afghanistan was free from
the infidel; I am convinced that his indignation at the treatment of
Dost Mahomed, and his fanaticism are so strong that no private matter
is likely to shake them."

The winter passed quietly, and the attention of Burnes and Macnaghten
was turned rather towards the frontier than to the state of things
round Cabul. Yar Mahomed, virtual ruler of Herat, although he was
receiving large sums of money from us, was known to be intriguing with
Persia, and trying to form an alliance with the Shah to expel the
British from Afghanistan. Russia had sent an expedition against Khiva,
and the conquest of this little state would bring her more closely to
the frontier of Afghanistan. Dost Mahomed, however, had gone on a visit
to the Ameer of Bokhara, and had been detained for the present by that
treacherous ruler; thus for a time the prospect of an invasion on his
part was greatly diminished.

In the spring Macnaghten and Shah Soojah returned to Cabul. The
former continued to ignore the warnings of Sir A. Burnes, as to the
ever-growing hostility of the Afghans to the British and the man
they had forced upon them. His advice and that of Burnes had been so
far followed that the force at Cabul had not been diminished; but,
not content with this, Macnaghten continued to urge on the Indian
government the necessity of sending a great force to occupy Herat and
another to cross the mountains and thwart the projects of the Russians
by carrying our arms into Bokhara. Moreover, he was continually
applying for money to meet the expenses of Shah Soojah's government. As
if the drain that these demands would entail upon the Indian treasury
and upon the Indian army were not sufficient, he insisted upon the
necessity of conquering the Punjaub, where, since the death of Runjeet
Sing, the attitude of the population had been increasingly hostile.

It is difficult to understand how any perfectly sane man could have
made such propositions. It would have needed the whole army of India to
carry them out, to say nothing of an enormous outlay of money. Although
the Governor-general and his council firmly declined to enter upon the
wild schemes proposed to them, Macnaghten did not cease to send them
lengthy communications urging the absolute necessity of his advice
being followed.

As the summer came on there were everywhere signs of unrest. In April
the Ghilzyes cut the communications near Candahar, but were defeated
by a small body of troops sent from that city. The Beloochees, whose
country had been annexed, were bitterly hostile, and convoys were
cut off. Candahar was invested by them, Quettah besieged, and Khelat
captured. With the exception of Macnaghten himself, there was scarcely
an officer in the army but was conscious of the tempest that was
gathering round them. Shah Soojah was as unpopular among them as among
the native population. Macnaghten was almost as unpopular as the Shah.
Everyone knew that it was his influence that had first induced Lord
Auckland to enter upon this war, and the levity with which he replied
to every warning, and the manner in which he deferred to Shah Soojah in
every respect, and allowed him to drive the tribesmen to despair by the
greed of the tax-gatherers, incensed the officers of the army to the
utmost.

In the spring the little garrison of Bamian were on the point of being
reinforced by a Sepoy battalion when Dr. Lord, who had been sent as
political officer, received information that led him to believe that
Jubbar Khan, one of Dost Mahomed's brothers, who was in charge of
Dost's family at Khooloom, was ready to come in. One of his sons had
already done so, and Lord thought that by sending forward a force to
the fortress of Badjah he would quicken Jubbar Khan's movements. It had
the desired effect, and Jubbar Khan came into Bamian bringing with him
Dost Mahomed's family and a large party of retainers. This, however,
in no way improved the position of the little party at Badjah, for the
natives in the vicinity exhibited the greatest hostility. The officer
in command sent a detachment under Sergeant Douglas to escort another
officer to Badjah. The party was, however, attacked, and although they
made a gallant resistance, they would have been destroyed had not two
companies of Ghoorkas arrived on the spot and beat off the enemy.

In August the startling news arrived that Dost Mahomed had escaped from
Bokhara. He was received with open arms by the governor of Khooloom
and a large force speedily gathered round him. Early in September he
advanced upon Bamian with eight thousand men. Badjah was attacked, and
although the Ghoorka regiment kept back the assailants, it was evident
that so advanced a post could not be held, and the force retreated,
leaving all their baggage behind them. A regiment of Afghan infantry
had been raised and were stationed at Bamian, but on hearing of Dost
Mahomed's approach they deserted to a man, most of them joining the
enemy. Even Macnaghten could no longer shut his eyes to the serious
nature of the position. Cabul was full of Sikh emissaries, who were
stirring up the population to revolt, promising them that the Sikh
nation would join in driving out the infidel. Reinforcements under
Colonel Dennie reached Bamian on the 14th of September, and on the 17th
Dost Mahomed with his army approached the place. Ignorant that the
whole force was upon him, Dennie sent Mackenzie with two guns and four
companies of native infantry and some four hundred Afghan horse, and
himself followed with four more companies in support.

On joining the advanced party, he found that the whole of Dost
Mahomed's force was in front of him. In spite of the enormous disparity
of numbers, he determined to attack; a wise resolution, for although in
our Indian wars the natives often fought bravely when they attacked us,
they seldom offered a vigorous opposition when we took the offensive.
Mackenzie's two guns opened fire with shrapnel, which had a terrible
effect upon the dense masses of the enemy. These were unable to
withstand the fire, and soon began to fall back. Mackenzie followed
them, and again opened fire. Before long, Dost Mahomed's levies broke
and fled; and Dennie launched the Afghan horsemen in pursuit. These cut
down great numbers of the enemy, and dispersed them in all directions.
The effect of this signal defeat was at once apparent. The Governor of
Khooloom entered into negotiations without delay, and pledged himself
not to harbour or assist Dost Mahomed; the country south of Khooloom
was divided, he taking half, while the southern portion came under the
authority of Shah Soojah.

The victory caused great satisfaction in Cabul, but this feeling was
short-lived. Dost Mahomed after his defeat went to Kohistan, where
there was great discontent among the chiefs, some of whom were already
in revolt. General Sale sent a force from Jellalabad, which attacked
a fortified position held by them, but the assault was repulsed with
heavy loss. It was about to be renewed, when the Kohistanees evacuated
the fort and fled. The fact, however, that our troops had met with
a repulse had a great effect upon the minds of the natives. For the
first time the Afghans had successfully withstood an attack by British
soldiers.

Throughout the month of October Dost Mahomed was busy, and at one time
approached within forty miles of Cabul, when guns were hastily mounted
on the citadel to overawe the town, and orders sent to the force at
Bamian to return at once. Dost, however, moved no nearer. Sir Robert
Sale was pursuing him, and it was not until the 27th that he moved down
again towards Cabul, and on the 29th the greater part of the force
there marched out to give him battle.

On the 2nd of November the two armies came face to face in the valley
of Purwandurrah. The Ameer at once moved from the village to the
neighbouring heights, and the British cavalry galloped to outflank
the Afghan horse. These were comparatively few in number, but headed
by Dost Mahomed himself, they advanced steadily to meet the Indian
cavalry. Gallantly as Indian troops have fought on numberless fields,
on this occasion they disgraced themselves utterly. Turning rein as the
Afghans approached, they galloped away in headlong flight, pursued by
the Afghans until within range of the British guns. Their officers in
vain attempted to arrest their flight, charging alone into the midst
of the enemy. Two of them were killed when surrounded by enemies, Dr.
Lord was shot, and the other two cut their way through their assailants
and reached the British line covered with wounds. No more disgraceful
affair has taken place in the story of our wars in India than this rout
of Indian cavalry by a third of their number of wild horsemen.

But even yet the affair might have been retrieved had an officer like
Dennie been in command; had the guns opened and the infantry advanced
it might still have been a repetition of the victory of Bamian. But
Sir A. Burnes was in authority, and, easily discouraged, as was his
nature, he gave no orders, but sent off word to Macnaghten that there
was nothing for it but to fall back to Cabul. Suddenly, however, the
position was changed by Dost Mahomed himself. As he rode back after the
victorious charge he thought over his position. His imprisonment at
Bokhara had not broken his spirit, but it had affected him by showing
him that the Mohammedans of Central Asia could not be trusted to work
together or to unite to beat back the ever-advancing wave of infidel
aggression by the British on the south, and the Russians on the west.
But more than this, the defection of his brother at Khooloom, and the
surrender by him of his family, had convinced him that it would be
vain for him to continue to struggle to regain the throne that he had
lost. The Kohistanees had risen before he joined them, and he had the
satisfaction of showing that his bravery was in no way shaken by his
misfortune, and of gaining a success of a most striking description.
Now at least he could lay down his sword with honour. Accordingly,
without telling anyone of his intention, he rode off the field with a
single attendant, and on the following day reached Cabul and rode to
the British Embassy.

As he approached it he saw Macnaghten returning from his evening
ride. His attendant galloped forward and asked if the gentleman was
the British envoy, and on Macnaghten saying that he was so, he then
returned to his master; and Dost Mahomed riding forward, dismounted,
saluted the envoy, and handed him his sword, saying that he had come
to surrender and to place himself under his protection. Macnaghten
returned it to him, and told him to remount, and they rode together
into the residency, Dost Mahomed asking eagerly for news of his family,
of whom he had not heard since their surrender. Being assured that they
were well and were honourably treated, he was greatly relieved. A tent
was pitched for him, and he wrote at once to his son, begging him to
follow his example. He conversed freely with Macnaghten, gave him the
history of his wanderings and adventures, and assured him that there
was no occasion to place a guard over him, as his mind had quite been
made up before he came in, and nothing short of force would compel him
to leave. His only anxiety was that he should not be sent to England,
and on Macnaghten assuring him that this would not be the case, and
that an ample maintenance would be assigned to him in India, he became
perfectly contented and calm.

As a result of his letter, three days later his eldest son, Mahomed
Afzul, came into camp and surrendered. Dost remained two days at
Cabul, where he was visited by many of the British officers, all of
whom were impressed most strongly by him, comparing him very favourably
with the man for whom we had dethroned him. Macnaghten wrote most
warmly in his favour to the Governor-general, urging that he should be
received with honour and a handsome pension assigned to him. He was
sent down to India with a strong escort, where he was kindly received
by the Viceroy, who settled upon him a pension of two lacs of rupees,
equivalent to £20,000.

Unfortunately, just at the time that the ex-Ameer returned to Cabul
a European regiment, a battery of horse artillery, and a regiment
of native infantry were recalled to India, and with them went Sir
Willoughby Cotton, and the command for the time being remained in the
hands of Sir Robert Sale.

Angus Campbell had not accompanied Sir A. Burnes when he left Cabul
with the force which marched out to encounter Dost Mahomed, but had
been left in charge of the office at Cabul. He was now his chief's
first civil assistant, his temporary appointment to the civil service
having been approved and confirmed by the Court of Directors at home
in consequence of the very warm report in his favour sent by Eldred
Pottinger and Mr. M'Neill. Sir A. Burnes, too, had in his letters
spoken several times of his energy and usefulness, and on his return
from his expedition through the passes, both Burnes and Macnaghten had
reported most highly both of his volunteering to undertake so dangerous
a mission, and of the manner in which he had carried it out. In return
the directors had sent out an order for his promotion to a higher
grade, and had ordered that a present of £1000 should be given him in
token of their recognition of his conduct.

"Your foot is well on the ladder now," Sir A. Burnes had said on
acquainting him with the decision of the board. "You will now have
your name on their books as one of the most promising of the younger
officers of the Company, and you may be sure that they will keep
their eye upon you. Macnaghten will shortly return to England, and I
have long been promised the succession to his post. I shall certainly
request, and no doubt my wishes will be acceded to in such a matter,
that you should hold the position of my chief assistant. As such
you will have many opportunities of doing good service, as you will
naturally proceed on missions to the chiefs of neighbouring peoples,
and will so qualify yourself for some important post in the future."

Macnaghten, indeed, was extremely anxious to leave. Bodily and mentally
he had suffered from the strain and anxiety. He had been promised a
high post in India, probably the succession to the governorship of
Bombay, but it was considered advisable that he should remain at his
present post till the country was more settled. The winter passed
quietly. With the submission of Dost Mahomed and his sons there was now
no rival to Shah Soojah, no head round whom those discontented with
the Ameer's rule could rally. He was the less unwilling to remain, as
he thought that an era of peace had now begun, and that his anxieties
were at an end. He was soon, however, undeceived. On Shah Soojah's
first arrival in India he had naturally looked to the Dooranees for
aid against the Barukzyes, who had so long oppressed them, and had
made many promises of remission of taxation as an incentive to their
zeal. These promises had so far been kept, that no taxes whatever had
been exacted from the Dooranees; but in view of the absolute necessity
of raising an income for the expenses of the government, and for
the personal expenditure of the Ameer and his favourites, it became
necessary that all should contribute to some extent to the revenue.

Although this tax was but a tithe of that which they had paid under
Barukzye rule, the Dooranees of the district of the north-west of
Candahar rose in rebellion, and General Nott marched out from that city
and defeated them in a pitched battle. For a time the movement was
crushed, but the discontent remained. This was rendered more formidable
by the fact that the Heratees had taken up so offensive an attitude
that our mission there had been withdrawn, and proofs were obtained
that its ruler was fomenting the discontent in the western province,
and was encouraging the disaffected by promising them assistance.

In May more serious trouble arose, this time with the Ghilzyes. It had
been determined to restore the dismantled fort of Kelat-i-Ghilzye.
The tribesmen viewed the work with hostility, and assembled in larger
numbers, and Nott sent a force against them under Colonel Winder, with
four hundred British troops, a Sepoy battalion, a battery of horse
artillery, and a small body of cavalry. The Ghilzyes advanced to the
attack in great force. The battle was long and desperate, but the
volleys of grape from the guns, and the steady fire from the infantry,
at last turned the scale, and after five hours' fighting the Ghilzyes
retired. The Dooranees were again in arms, and three thousand men were
assembled under their chief at Girishk. A small force, under Colonel
Woodburn, marched out against them and defeated them, but having
no cavalry on which he could rely, he could not prevent the rebels
from retiring in fair order. Major Rawlinson, the political officer
at Candahar, again warned Macnaghten that the situation in western
Afghanistan was extremely threatening, but was answered that this was
an unwarrantable view of our position, and that there were "enough
difficulties, and enough of croakers, without adding to the number
needlessly."

But Rawlinson was perfectly right, and Macnaghten was living in a
fool's paradise. The defeated chief of the Dooranees was joined by
another, and in August a force of eight hundred cavalry, of whom some
were regulars, three hundred and fifty infantry, and four guns, under
Captain Griffin, met the insurgents. They were strongly posted in a
succession of walled gardens and small forts, but the fire of the
guns and infantry drove them from the enclosure, and the cavalry then
charged them with great effect and scattered them in all directions.
Another defeat was inflicted upon the Ghilzyes in the same month. For
the moment all was quiet again; the only drawback to Macnaghten's
satisfaction was that Akbar Khan, Dost Mahomed's favourite son, was
still in the north, and was reported to be gathering troops somewhere
near Khooloom. In September Macnaghten received news of his appointment
to the governorship of Bombay, and began his preparations for leaving
Cabul, and Burnes looked forward to receiving at last the appointment
for which he had so long waited. His position had been in every respect
irksome. His views differed from those of Macnaghten; he saw the
dangers of the position which Macnaghten refused to recognize. The
reports he addressed to the envoy were generally returned with a few
lines in pencil of contemptuous dissent; but he believed that with
power to act in his hands he should be able to remedy the blunders that
had been made, and to restore peace and contentment in Afghanistan.

The troops were now commanded by General Elphinstone, who had succeeded
Cotton. He was a brave old officer, but almost incapacitated by
infirmities. He obtained the post simply as senior officer, and was
wholly unfitted for command in such a critical time and in such a
position. Probably had it not been for the assurances of Macnaghten
that all was going on well, and that the trifling risings had been
crushed without difficulty, Lord Auckland would have yielded to the
opinion of his military advisers and appointed General Nott. Had he
done so the greatest disaster that ever fell upon the British army
might have been avoided.

Nothing could be worse than the position in which the British camp
and mission were established. They were on low ground, commanded on
every side by hills, and surrounded by forts and villages. They were
nearly a mile in extent, defended only by so contemptible a ditch and
rampart, that an English officer for a bet rode a pony across them.
The commissariat compound was near the cantonment, and occupied an
extensive space with the buildings and huts for the officers. It,
too, had a rampart, but this was even less formidable than that which
surrounded the camp.

Things had now settled down. Many of the officers had sent for their
wives and children, and Lady Macnaghten, Lady Sale, and others were
established in comfortable houses. The climate was exhilarating,
the officers amused themselves with cricket, horse-racing, fishing,
and shooting, and lived as if they had been at a hill station in
India, instead of in a mountainous country surrounded by bitter foes.
October came in quietly, though Pottinger, who was now in Kohistan,
sent unfavourable reports of things there. But these were as usual
pooh-poohed by Macnaghten. The latter's troubles with the Indian
government, however, continued unabated. The expenses of the occupation
of Afghanistan, amounting to a million and a quarter a year, were a
terrible drain upon the revenues of India, and it had become necessary
to raise a loan to meet the outlay, and the question of a withdrawal
from Afghanistan was being seriously discussed.

None of the good results that had been looked for had been achieved,
nor did it appear likely that the situation would improve; for it was
evident to all unbiassed observers that the Ameer was upheld solely
by British bayonets, and that when these were withdrawn the whole
fabric we had built up at so enormous an expense would collapse. The
uneasiness of the Indian government was increased by the fact that a
change of ministry was imminent at home, and that the Conservatives,
who had always opposed the invasion of Afghanistan, would at once
take steps for the withdrawal of the troops from the country; and the
investigation which would be made into the whole affair would create
intense dissatisfaction in England, and lead to the recall of the
Indian politicians responsible for it. The news stirred Macnaghten
to fury; but he saw that it was necessary to make retrenchments, and
accordingly he largely cut down the subsidies paid to the chiefs. The
consequence was, that the leaders of the whole of the powerful tribes,
including those round Cabul, the Kohistanees, Ghilzyes, and Momunds, at
once entered into a hostile federation against the British.

Sale's brigade, that was about to start on its way to India, was
ordered to attack the Ghilzyes at Jellalabad, and on the 9th Colonel
Monteith was sent with a Sepoy regiment, a squadron of cavalry, and
a party of sappers and miners, to keep the passes clear. The force
was, however, attacked at the first halting-place, and Sir Robert
Sale marched with the 13th Regiment to clear the pass from his end.
Joined by Monteith's force, he succeeded in driving the natives from
their heights, the Sepoys and the British soldiers vying with each
other in climbing the almost inaccessible crags. The 13th retired down
the valley, and Monteith encamped in the Khoord Cabul pass. He was
attacked at night, the enemy being aided by the treachery of the Afghan
horsemen, who admitted them within their lines. They were, however,
beaten off, and Monteith was joined by Sale on the following day.
Negotiations were then opened with the Ghilzyes; terms were made, but
broken by the treacherous tribesmen a few hours after they had been
signed.

On his way back to Jellalabad Sale was attacked more than once in
great force, and with difficulty cut his way down. Macnaghten, who
had determined to leave on the 1st of October, but had postponed
his departure for a short time, wrote on that day that he hoped the
business just reported was the expiring effort of the rebels.

Angus had remained with Burnes at Cabul. The latter was much depressed
by the occurrences that had taken place. He had greatly disapproved of
Macnaghten's wholesale cutting down of the subsidies of the chiefs.

"How unfortunate am I!" he said many times to Angus. "Had Macnaghten
gone but two months earlier, this would never have happened. It has
been money alone that has kept the tribesmen quiet, and the very worst
form of retrenchment has been chosen. Had he gone I should have acted
in a very different way. In the first place, I should have told the
Ameer frankly that the troubles were solely caused by the rapacity
of the men he had appointed to receive the taxes. These must be
dismissed, and honest and faithful ones appointed in their place. It
is the abominable tyranny with which the taxes--of which I believe but
a small portion ever get into the treasury--are collected that has
brought about the trouble. With proper administration the revenue could
be doubled, and the taxation would press much more lightly upon the
people than it does at present. Now the evil is done, and I shall have
to take over the administration when everything points to a terrible
catastrophe, with which my name will ever be associated."




CHAPTER XIII

THE MURDER OF SIR A. BURNES


October passed quietly, and Macnaghten arranged to leave on the 2nd of
November. Burnes had received several warnings as to the formidable
nature of the confederacy of the chiefs. Mohun Lal, the principal
moonshee, who had been down to Sale's camp, told him that if the
conspiracy was not crushed in its infancy it would become too strong
to be suppressed. Burnes replied that he had no power at present, but
that as soon as Macnaghten left he would conciliate the chiefs by
raising their allowances to the former point. On the 1st of November
Mohun Lal again expressed his opinion of the danger. Burnes replied
that he feared the time was coming when the British would have to leave
the country. He was in one of his moods of depression, but from this
he recovered in the evening, and congratulated Macnaghten upon leaving
when everything was quiet.

At the very time he was speaking the hostile chiefs were assembled
together, and were discussing the methods that were to be taken to
overthrow the British power. They determined that the first step was
to forge a document in the Ameer's name, ordering all the people to
rise, and at the same time to spread a report that it was the intention
to seize all the principal chiefs and send them prisoners to England.
It was singular that they should not have waited a few days, for the
Indian government had sent peremptory orders that the whole force at
Cabul, with the exception of a single brigade, should return with
Macnaghten to India.

The chiefs decided that as a first step a tumult should arise in the
city, and this they at once set about exciting. They had no idea that
it would succeed, and none of them ventured to take any part in it,
as it was only intended to excite the passions of the rabble of the
city. Early the next morning a friendly Afghan brought Burnes news
that the residency was about to be attacked. He did not believe the
intelligence, as the city had of late been as quiet as usual; but
on sending out some of his servants into the street they reported
that there was certainly an unusual stir and excitement. He wrote to
Macnaghten saying so, but stating that he did not think the matter at
all serious, although at the same time he requested that a military
guard should be sent to him in order to overawe any disaffected persons.

Angus had gone out early with Azim. The latter had for some days past
spent his time in the city, and each evening had returned with the
rumours he had gathered. The talk in the lower quarters was all of the
understanding at which the chiefs had arrived, and the general opinion
was that in a few days these would pour down with all their forces and
annihilate the infidels.

Angus himself noticed the sullen expression on the faces of the lower
class and the manner in which they scowled at him as he passed, and
quite agreed with his follower that the troubles he had long foreseen
were about to come to a head. When in the streets, too, he had an
uneasy consciousness that he was being followed. Several times he
turned sharply round, but in the throng of natives in the streets he
could recognize no face that he knew. This morning the feeling was
particularly strong, although, as he had often done before, he assured
himself that it was pure fancy on his part.

"I am not conscious of feeling nervous," he said to Azim, "but I must
be getting so. It has been a very anxious time all the year, and I
suppose that without my knowing it it must have told upon me. However,
I will turn down this quiet street, and if anyone is following us we
shall certainly detect him."

A hundred yards down another lane crossed the one he had taken. Azim
had looked several times, but no one else turned down the lane, which
was entirely deserted. As they passed the corner of the next lane some
men suddenly sprang upon them. Cloths were thrown over their heads,
and in spite of their struggles they were lifted up and carried along
rapidly. In a couple of minutes they stopped. Angus heard a door open.
They were borne along what he thought was a passage, thrust into a
room, and a door was slammed to and locked behind them. They tore off
their mufflers and looked around. It was a room of no great size,
with strongly-barred windows. There were cushions on a divan that ran
along one side. On a low table in the middle of the room were two cold
chickens, a pile of fruit, a large jar of water, and two bottles of
native wine.

"What on earth does this mean?" Angus said, "and why have we been
carried off?"

Azim did not attempt to reply.

"We are prisoners, that is certain," Angus went on; "but it would
certainly look as if they meant to make us comfortable, and the room
must have been prepared in readiness for our reception. I see no
hope of getting away; the windows are very strongly barred, and," he
continued as he walked across and looked out, "this little yard is
surrounded by houses without windows on the ground floor, and with
no door that I can see. I suppose there is one below us; anyhow, if
we could get through these bars we should be no nearer liberty, for
at best we could only re-enter the house, and possibly the door is
fastened on the inside. There are certainly men in the house; I heard
voices in the passage just now, and no doubt one of the fellows is
stationed there. The only reason I can imagine for their carrying us
off is that we are to be kept as hostages. Of course I am known to be
Burnes's chief civilian assistant, and they might think that if I were
in their hands he would be willing to make some concessions to get me
back again. It is of no use worrying over it; we are not so badly off
as we were in that snow-storm in the pass. The best thing we can do for
the present is to make a meal, for we did not take anything before we
started."

[Illustration: AS THEY PASSED THE CORNER ... SOME MEN SPRANG ON THEM.]

They had just finished their breakfast when the sound of musketry was
plainly heard.

"There is fighting going on," Angus exclaimed. "What can it mean? There
are no troops in the city except the native guards at our house and the
treasury next door. It is either a fight between two factions in the
city, or they are attacking our place. It is maddening being fastened
up here just at this moment. The news brought by that Afghan this
morning that we were to be attacked must be true, though Sir Alexander
altogether disbelieved it. He was in one of his happiest humours this
morning, as to-day he was to obtain the goal of his hopes and to be the
resident political officer, with all power in his hands. When he is in
that mood he disbelieves all unpleasant tidings, while in his fits of
depression he gives credit to every rumour that reaches his ear. Still,
the house should be able to hold out against a mob until help arrives
from the camp; but whether or not, my place should be by his side
whatever comes of it."

"If there is really a rising in the town, sir, we are certainly safer
here than we should be in the streets, or even in the house."

"That may be," Angus said impatiently, "but my duty is to be there." He
paced restlessly up and down the room.

Presently Azim said: "I can't think how the men who seized us knew
that we were coming along. It was quite by chance that you turned down
the lane."

"They must have been close to us when we did so," Angus said, "and must
at once have run round by another lane and posted themselves at the
corner where we were seized. We were not walking fast, and there would
have been time for them to get there before us if they had run. But why
should they have taken this trouble? and why should they have prepared
this place beforehand for our reception? It beats me altogether."

After the firing had continued for a few minutes it ceased; then they
could hear a confused roar of shouting.

"Good heavens!" Angus exclaimed, "they must have taken the house. The
troops cannot have arrived in time, or we should have heard sharp
volleys. This is maddening."

"Well, sir," Azim said philosophically, "if we had not been carried off
we should have been in the house when they attacked it, and should have
shared the fate of the others, whatever it may be."

"That is true enough," Angus agreed; "still, I ought to have been
there. Ah!" he broke off suddenly, "they have not taken either your
sword or mine, or my pistols"--for although not in military uniform the
civilians generally carried swords, a necessary precaution when the
whole native population always went about armed; and Angus in addition
carried pistols also concealed in his dress. "It is extraordinary that
they should not have disarmed us."

"I do not think that they intended to do us harm," Azim said; "they
could have cut our throats had they chosen to do so, when they brought
us here, without fear of discovery. Why should they leave us our
swords and provide a good meal for us if they intended to murder us
afterwards?"

"That is so, Azim, and it makes the affair more incomprehensible. I
tried to get at my pistols as they carried me along, but they held my
arms too tightly for me to do so. It seems to me possible that this
is the work of someone who was aware of the intended attack, and who
doubted whether the troops would not enter the city and slaughter many
of the inhabitants, and so thought that by producing us at the right
moment he would not only clear himself, from any charge of taking part
in the affair, but would earn a reward for having saved our lives. I
certainly have no friend in the city who would be likely to seize me
for any other object. Of course, I was in communication with most of
the important persons here, but it has been simply in an official way."

"Whoever it is must have been watching you for some days, master, if,
as you thought, he has been following you whenever you went out."

"I can have no doubt on that subject now, Azim," and Angus sat thinking
for some time. "I think," he said suddenly, "it must be Sadut Khan;
if so, we are safe. We know that he was with the Ameer, and rode with
him when he defeated our cavalry, and it has been reported that he has
since returned to his tribe, though we have no certain information
about it. It is possible that, knowing we were about to be attacked by
the whole force of the tribesmen, he has borne his promise in mind, and
has employed men to watch me and take steps, if necessary, to secure my
safety. That certainly would explain what before it seemed impossible
to understand."

The noise in the town still continued. At one time there was sound of
heavy musketry firing.

"The troops have entered the city," Angus exclaimed; "there will be
hard fighting, for in the narrow streets an armed mob can offer a
desperate resistance even to the best troops. But in the end they will
put down this tumult, and if Sir Alexander has been murdered, exact a
heavy penalty for his death."

In half an hour the firing gradually abated, and the musket shots came
more faintly through the air. "Our men are falling back, Azim, there
can be little doubt about that by the sound. There cannot be any great
number of troops engaged. What on earth can Macnaghten and Elphinstone
be doing?"

The roar of shouting in the streets became louder, and there was an
occasional sound of firearms. "It is quite evident that the mob are
in entire possession of the city, Azim. They are looting the traders'
quarter, and probably murdering all the whites who have taken up their
residence there."

These fears were fully justified. The houses of Sir Alexander Burnes
and Captain Johnson, the paymaster of the Ameer's troops, adjoined each
other. Johnson had, fortunately for himself, slept that night in the
camp. Sir Alexander had with him his brother, Lieutenant Burnes, and
Lieutenant Broadfoot, his military secretary, who had just arrived.
Curiously enough, it was the anniversary of the disastrous fight at
Purwandurrah, in which fight Broadfoot's eldest brother had been
killed. Soon after Angus had gone out the Ameer's minister arrived and
repeated the warning already given by the friendly Afghan. Burnes could
no longer doubt that there was danger, but he refused to leave his
house, saying that as soon as the news that there was a tumult reached
the camp, the troops would be at once despatched to put it down. He,
however, wrote urgently to Macnaghten for support, and sent messengers
to the most powerful native chief in the town begging him to calm the
people, and assure them that all grievances should be redressed.

One of the messengers was killed on the way, the other managed to
return to the house desperately wounded. The gathering in the street
increased every moment. Burnes with the two officers went out on to a
balcony, and from thence harangued the mob. His voice was drowned by
yells and curses, weapons were brandished, and an attack was made on
the doors of both houses. Part of the mob were fanatics, who thought
only of slaying the infidels, but a still larger party were animated
solely by a desire to share in the sack of the Ameer's treasury next
door. The native guards both of Sir Alexander and the treasury opened
fire, and for a time maintained themselves with the greatest bravery.
Of the English officers, Broadfoot was the first to fall, shot through
the heart. The position became more and more desperate. A party of the
insurgents had set fire to the stables and forced their way into the
garden. Burnes was still attempting to lull the fury of the crowd. Long
ere this troops should have arrived to his rescue, but there were no
signs that they were approaching. At last, seeing that all was lost, he
disguised himself and went out into the garden with a man who had sworn
by the Koran to convey him and his brother safely into camp. No sooner,
however, did they issue out than the traitor shouted: "This is Burnes."

The mob rushed upon the brothers and hewed them to pieces. The
defenders of the two houses fought bravely to the last, but were
finally slaughtered to a man.

Sir Alexander Burnes owed his death to the faults of others rather
than his own. Having been previously at Cabul as the British agent,
and speaking the language perfectly, it was to him the people made
their complaints, to him they looked for redress. They knew nothing
of Macnaghten. When they found their condition growing from bad to
worse, their taxes increasing, their trade at a stand-still, food
extremely dear, and employment wanting, it was on Burnes that they
laid the blame; and yet he was all the time endeavouring, but in vain,
to persuade Macnaghten that it was absolutely necessary to compel the
Ameer to abandon a course that was exasperating for people of all
classes, from the most powerful chiefs to the poorest inhabitants of
the city. Burnes was unquestionably a man of great ability, and had he
been in Macnaghten's place with full power and responsibility, things
would probably have turned out differently.

The expedition from the first was a gigantic blunder, undertaken in
the teeth of his remonstrances. In any case it was doomed to failure.
It was impossible that we could maintain on the throne a man hated
by the whole of his subjects--a race of fighting men, jealous to the
last degree of their independence, and able to take full advantage of
the natural strength of the country. But under the administration of
an officer at once firm and resolute, and anxious to conciliate them
in every way, the British force might have remained until the Indian
government could no longer support the expense of the occupation,
and could then have withdrawn quietly with the puppet who had proved
himself so utterly incapable of conciliating the people upon whom we
had thrust him.

The great fault in the character of Burnes was instability--his
alternate fits of sanguine hopefulness and deep depression, and
his readiness to believe what suited his mood of the moment. These
characteristics were no doubt heightened by the unfortunate position
in which he found himself. He had had every reason to expect that
in view of his previous residence in Cabul and his knowledge of the
character of the people, he would have the post of political officer
of the Afghan capital, and he only accepted a secondary position upon
the understanding that Macnaghten's appointment was a temporary one,
and that he would succeed him. When, however, months and years elapsed,
and he was still without any recognized position whatever, when his
advice was never adopted and his opinions contemptuously set aside by
a man infinitely his inferior, he naturally came to take the worst
view of things, and his fits of depression became more frequent. At
last he fell, not because his house was isolated, for it could have
held out until aid had come, but because the three men whose duty it
was to rescue him--Macnaghten, the Ameer, and Elphinstone--were alike
vacillating, undetermined, and incompetent.

The Ameer was the only one of these three to take any steps. When he
heard of the riot he sent down a regiment of Hindoostanee troops to
rescue Burnes. Instead, however, of marching outside the town to the
end of the street in which Burnes's house was situated, they entered
the city by the nearest gate, and tried to make their way through a
maze of narrow lanes. Their advance was desperately opposed. From every
house and roof a fire of musketry was kept up, and, after losing two
hundred of their number, they fled in utter confusion to the shelter of
the citadel. Elphinstone in his report says that he received the news
at half-past seven that the town was in a ferment, and shortly after
the envoy came and told him that it was in a state of insurrection, but
that he did not think much of it, and expected the revolt would shortly
subside. Macnaghten suggested that Brigadier Shelton's force should
proceed to the Bala Hissar to operate as might seem expedient, while
the remaining force was concentrated in the cantonment, and assistance
if possible sent to Sir Alexander Burnes.

It was not, however, until between nine and ten that Shelton received
his orders; and almost directly afterwards another note arrived telling
him not to move, as the Ameer had objected. To this Shelton replied
that in an insurrection of the city there was no time for indecision,
and recommended the general at once to resolve upon what measures he
would adopt. He was then told to march immediately to the Bala Hissar,
where he would receive further instructions from Macnaghten. Just as
he was marching off, a note came from this officer telling him to halt
for further orders. He sent an engineer to ask the reason for this
order, but the officer was cut down by an Afghan while dismounting
just outside the square where the Ameer was sitting. Soon after this
the military secretary himself came with orders for him to enter the
citadel. When he arrived there, the Ameer asked him who sent him and
what he came there for, and he was forbidden to enter the town. All
that he could do was to cover the retreat of the Ameer's Hindoostanee
troops. In consequence of all these delays, it was twelve o'clock
before Shelton moved into the Bala Hissar, by which time Burnes and his
friends had been murdered and the riot had spread. Houses were burned,
shops sacked, and the families of several British officers massacred.

It is certain that had the slightest energy been shown, and had a small
body of troops been despatched when Burnes's first request for help
arrived, the riot would have been nipped in the bud, for all accounts
agree that for a considerable time not more than three hundred men
took part in the attack, and even when Shelton urged the necessity for
prompt measures Burnes might have been saved. Except in the case of
the rising at Meerut in the Indian Mutiny, never did such disastrous
effects result from the incompetence of a British general.

The day passed slowly to Angus. It was maddening to be helpless when
great events were happening. Until it became quite dark no one came
near them, but at seven o'clock they heard the bolt of the door
withdrawn, and a man entered with a torch, by whose light they at once
recognized Hassan, their guide over the passes.

"You here, Hassan!" Angus exclaimed. "I had always thought of you as
back again in your tower near Bamian. Is it you who has thus made us
prisoners?"

"We were sorry to use force, effendi, but there was no other way. Sadut
Khan charged us to look after your safety, and we have kept you in
sight for some days. He was living in this house in disguise. He was
absent yesterday evening to take part in the conference with the other
chiefs, and did not return until after midnight. Then he said, 'There
will be a tumult in the city to-morrow, Hassan, and probably the house
of the officer Burnes will be attacked. What will come of it I do not
know. I myself and the other chiefs are leaving at once, so that if
things go badly we can disavow any connection with the affair. The
young officer, my friend, is, as you know, at Burnes's house. He must
be rescued. Prepare this room for him. If he leaves the house before
the attack begins, you must seize him and carry him in here. If his
servant is with him, bring him also; he too must be saved. He waited on
me kindly, and did all in his power for me. If he should not leave the
house, then you and your followers must join the mob and keep together,
forcing yourselves to the front, so that you will be the first to enter
the house. Take long cloaks to throw round them, and get them out, even
at the cost of your lives.'

"I told him that it should be done. You saved his life, and you also
saved ours, for we should have been suffocated in the snow-storm had
you not cut your way out and come to our rescue. So it has been done.
We were glad indeed when we saw you come out. Had you not turned down
that lane, I should have come up and accosted you, and, telling you
that I had an important message to deliver to you, should have asked
you to come with me to a quiet spot, where I might deliver it safely.
As it was, directly you turned down, we ran round, and, as you know,
captured you without noise and without being observed by you. You will,
I trust, pardon me for having laid hands on you; but I had orders from
the Khan, who told me that I should have to use force, as he was sure
you would not, however great the danger, he persuaded to leave Burnes."

"What has happened?"

"The Englishman and two others with him have been killed. One of the
Ameer's regiments entered the town, but was driven back. There is
looting going on everywhere. Many have been killed, and many houses
burnt."

"But what is our army doing?"

"Nothing. There is a force at the Bala Hissar, the rest are under arms
in their camp."

"It seems impossible!" Angus exclaimed. "However," he went on, stifling
his indignation for the time, "I have to thank you deeply, Hassan, you
and Sadut Khan, for having saved our lives. Assuredly you took the only
way to do so; for had you only told me of the danger that threatened
Sir Alexander Burnes, I should have returned to warn him and share his
fate, whatever it might be. As it was, I cannot blame myself that I
was absent. I thank you with all my heart. Pray tell the Khan when you
see him that I am deeply grateful to him. He has nobly redeemed his
promise, and I hope some day to thank him in person."

"Now, sahib, we will start at once," Hassan said. "I have clothes for
you to put over your own, and there is no fear of our being suspected.
We will take you to within shot of your camp."

He called out, and his four men entered, bringing with them Afghan
disguises. When these were put on, they sallied out at once. The
five men were fully armed, and long Afghan guns were given to Angus
and Azim. The streets were full of people, for the most part in a
state of wild excitement, though the better class looked grave at the
prospect of the retribution that would probably fall upon the city,
perhaps to-morrow or certainly in a day or two. None paid any attention
to the group, who differed in no respect from the majority of those
around them. Issuing from one of the gates, they made their way to
the cantonments. When within a few hundred yards the Afghans stopped.
After a hearty farewell and renewed thanks, Angus and Azim left them.
They had taken off their disguises, and offered them to Hassan to carry
back, but he said, "You had best keep them; you may want them again.
There is no saying what may happen." And they accordingly carried them
with them.

In a short time they were challenged by a sentry, and halted till the
latter had called a sergeant and four men. Then they went forward.
Angus was recognized at once, as he was known by sight to everyone in
the camp. In a short time they met an officer, who told them the news
of the massacre of Burnes, his brother, and Broadfoot, and their guard,
which was already known, as one man had escaped the general slaughter,
and had, after hiding for some hours, come into the camp. Angus went
at once to Macnaghten's house and sent in his name. The envoy came out
into the hall. "I am glad to see that you have escaped, Mr. Campbell.
I thought that all had perished, though your name is not specially
mentioned as among the victims."

"I was not in the house, sir," Angus replied. "Sir Alexander Burnes had
sent me out to gather information, and I and my servant were suddenly
seized and carried into a house, where we were kept as prisoners all
day. After it was dark we made our escape, having obtained disguises
from a friendly Afghan."

"Well, I am glad," Macnaghten said; "but you must excuse me now, for
the general is here, and we are holding a council. You had better for
to-night take up your quarters in poor Burnes's tent. I shall have time
to attend to matters to-morrow."

Although Burnes had his residence in the city, he had a large tent not
far from the envoy's house. This he occupied when he had business in
camp, and it was here that he received natives who brought him news, or
who had grievances that they wished to report to him. Here Angus lay
down for the night, with a deep feeling of thankfulness that his life
had been spared, mingled with a foreboding that the troubles had only
begun, and that there was yet much peril in store before the army were
safely out of Afghanistan.

In the morning Angus again went up to the envoy's. "I have been
thinking, Mr. Campbell," Macnaghten said when he entered, "as far as I
have been able to think on any one subject, how your services can be
best utilized temporarily. I think that, if you would not mind, you
might be attached to the commissariat, and assist Captain Boyd and
Captain Johnson."

"I will gladly do so, sir," Angus said. "I will take up the work at
once."

"Anticipating your consent, I have already written a letter for you to
take to those officers."

Glad to have work before him, Angus went at once to the commissariat
camp. The two officers were at breakfast. Both rose and congratulated
him heartily on his escape. "How on earth did you manage it?"

He gave as brief an account as he had done to Sir William Macnaghten,
and then handed them the letter he had received from the envoy. "That
is good news," Captain Johnson said heartily. "We shall be glad indeed
to have your aid. I will have a tent pitched for you at once by the
side of ours. Of course you have not breakfasted. Sit down with us.
What do you think of the state of affairs? You know a good deal more
than we do of the disposition of the Afghan chiefs."

"I think things look very bad," Angus said gravely. "After what seems
to me the imbecility shown yesterday, to which the death of my chief is
due, it is impossible to feel anything like confidence in the general."

"That is the universal feeling in camp," Captain Johnson said. "If we
had Sale here I believe everything would go right, but poor Elphinstone
is only fit for a snug armchair in a comfortable club. He is no more
able to cope with a crisis like this than an old woman would be. In
fact, for choice I would take the average old woman.

"Orders have been given for an attack upon the town to-day, but it is
more than likely that it will be countermanded. If Elphinstone can make
up his mind to throw his whole force, with the exception of a strong
camp guard, against the city, we should certainly carry it. No doubt
there might be a considerable loss of life, but that could not be
helped. It would certainly be successful. Then I should say we ought to
turn the whole of the Afghan population out of the town, move all our
provisions and stores there, and settle down for the winter. We could
beat off any attack that the Afghans could make against us. As it is,
we are terribly anxious about the stores. You know that I originally
established all the magazines for the Ameer's army in the Bala Hissar.
Then Macnaghten came up with the Ameer from Jellalabad, and he told
me that the Ameer objected to the magazines being there. That was
quite enough for Macnaghten. He always gives in to the Ameer's wishes,
however ridiculous. So we had to leave the storehouses I had built and
move out bag and baggage.

"The only place that I could get was the camel sheds half-way between
this and the town, and unless a strong garrison is sent down there the
Afghans are certain to take possession of them. But Boyd's stores are
even more important. They are within four hundred yards of the defences
of the camp, and contain all our grain, our hospital stores, our wine
and beer, our sugar, and everything else. And if his stores and mine
are both lost, we shall have starvation staring us in the face at the
end of a week. Just look out over the plain. Since daylight there has
been a steady stream of men from the hills, and from all the villages
round, flocking into the city; they have heard of the capture of my
treasury, and are eager to share in the looting. If they succeed in
capturing the stores and provisions, God help us all."




CHAPTER XIV

A SERIES OF BLUNDERS


Numerous as had been the blunders, and great the mismanagement up to
the 2nd of November, matters might yet have been retrieved had the
conduct of affairs been in resolute and energetic hands. Macnaghten was
personally a brave and fearless man. Had he at last felt the necessity
for strong measures, an attack upon the city would certainly have been
attended with success. Now that the first burst of hate and passion had
passed, the inhabitants were filled with apprehension at the punishment
that would fall upon them, and none doubted that the British army would
at once attack the town. The army itself expected this, and, furious at
the treacherous massacre of Sir Alexander Burnes and his comrades, were
burning for the order to attack.

The troops were under arms early, but no orders were issued for
a forward movement. Some hours later the 35th regiment of Native
Infantry, with two mountain guns, came in from Khoord Cabul, having
brushed aside the opposition it had met with on its march. With this
valuable addition to the fighting strength in the camp all opposition
could have been easily overcome, and yet until three o'clock in the
afternoon nothing whatever was done. By this time what could have
been effected with comparative ease in the early morning had become
a far more difficult operation. Vast numbers of the tribesmen had
been pouring into the city since daybreak, and the two miles of plain
between the camp and the city, which earlier in the day could have
been traversed without a shot being fired, were now covered by a host
of fierce enemies; and yet, after wasting so many valuable hours, the
general, instead of throwing the whole of the force in the cantonments,
and that of Brigadier Shelton at the Bala Hissar, against the city,
sent only three companies of infantry and two guns to the attack.

Naturally this handful of men failed; and it was well for them that
they did not penetrate into the city, for had they done so they would
assuredly have been overwhelmed before they had gone fifty yards.
However, the officer in command, seeing the impossibility of the task
set him, withdrew his detachment in good order. The result of the day's
operation, if it could be so called, was disastrous, the troops, who
had until then been eager to be led against the enemy, and confident
of success, were irritated and dispirited, and lost all confidence in
their commander; while, on the other hand, the Afghans were jubilant
over what they considered the cowardice of the enemy. The next day the
misfortune invited by the passive attitude of our troops happened. Only
eighty men were in charge of the commissariat fort. The little party
were commanded by Lieutenant Warren. Early in the day a threatening
force of the enemy approached, and Warren sent a messenger urgently
asking for reinforcements.

But the Afghans had already occupied an old fort that commanded the
road between the camp and the commissariat fort. Considering the
enormous importance of the stores, an overwhelming force should have
been sent out to drive off the assailants, and to occupy the fort in
such strength that it could be held against any assault. Instead of
doing this, two companies only of the 44th Regiment were sent. The
two captains in command were killed by the fire from the Afghan fort,
other officers were wounded, and the men fell so fast that the officer
who was senior in command, seeing the impossibility of reaching the
store, drew them off. Then an order was issued--which was practically
the death-warrant of the army--by General Elphinstone, for a party
of cavalry to go out and bring in the little garrison. This party
suffered even more severely than the preceding one. From every wall,
building, and orchard a storm of musketry broke out, and the troopers,
after suffering great loss, again retired. The news that the general
intended to abandon the store struck dismay into the officers of
the commissariat. Captain Boyd hurried to head-quarters, and urged
the general to send a force that would sweep away all opposition,
and to hold the fort at all hazards. The general promised to send a
reinforcement, but no relief was sent.

As night was coming on, Captain Boyd and Captain Johnson again went
to the general and pointed out in the strongest language the result
that would follow the abandonment of the stores. The unhappy old man
hesitated, but on a letter being brought in from Lieutenant Warren
saying that the enemy were mining the walls, and some of the Sepoys,
seeing their position was desperate, were deserting, he promised that a
strong detachment should be sent at two o'clock in the morning to storm
the Afghan fort and relieve the guard at the commissariat stores.
Orders were accordingly issued, but these were presently countermanded,
and it was decided that the force should not move until daylight.

By that time it was too late. Warren had repulsed an attack on the
walls, but seeing that the enemy were preparing to fire the gate and
renew the attack, he retired through a passage that had on the previous
day been dug under the wall, and reached the camp in safety. But this
was not the only disaster that happened that day. Captain Johnson's
store of provisions for the use of the Ameer's troops, on the outskirts
of the city, was also attacked. Captain Mackenzie, who was in command
of the little garrison there, defended his post throughout the day
with the greatest gallantry; but water was scarce, and ammunition
failing, and large numbers of women and children were in the fort,
with great quantities of baggage. Urgent letters were sent asking
for reinforcements, but no reinforcements came. Had they arrived the
situation would have been saved. The Kuzzilbashes were ready to side
with the British. Several of their commanders were with Mackenzie, but
when they saw that no help was sent, they refused to join a cause that
seemed to them lost. All night the fighting went on, and all next day,
until his men were utterly worn out, and the ammunition exhausted. No
more could be done, and when night came on, he moved out of the fort
and fought his way to the cantonments--a brilliant action, which showed
what could be accomplished by a mere handful of men well led.

While Mackenzie was thus fighting for the stores under his charge,
the troops in the cantonments were condemned to see crowds of Afghans
looting the stores within four hundred yards of our camp, carrying off
the supplies that had been garnered for their subsistence through the
winter, and this without a man being set in motion or a gun brought to
bear upon the plunderers.

Furious at the imbecility of their leaders, the soldiers clamoured to
be led against the enemy. Unable to resist the demand, the general
ordered the 37th Native Infantry to move out; but instead of being
led straight against the enemy, the officer in command hesitated and
halted, and soon fell back with the indignant Sepoys.

General Elphinstone was already talking of making terms with the enemy,
and seemed to despair of victory when no attempt had been made to
gain a success. On the 6th, however, a party of the 37th were again
sent out under Major Griffiths. Again it was seen what could be done
by an energetic officer. The Afghan fort was stormed, the enemy were
driven out, and were routed by a party of horse, who dashed at them
gallantly. The troops could be no longer restrained, and cavalry,
infantry, and artillery poured out; but there was no general plan, and
the consequence was, that although desultory fighting went on all day,
nothing was accomplished. Had any general plan of operation been laid
down, and a combined action fought, the enemy would have been utterly
unable to withstand our troops, worked up to fury as these were by the
disgraceful inaction that had been forced upon them. In the meantime,
starvation would have already stared the troops in the face had not
Captains Boyd and Johnson, aided by Angus and other officers of their
department, gone out to the native villages and succeeded in purchasing
a certain amount of grain. But already the troops were on half rations,
and even these scanty supplies could not long be available.

The general, while his troops were out fighting, wrote to Macnaghten,
urging that negotiations should be opened with the enemy, and saying,
"Our case is not yet desperate, but it is becoming so very fast."

Macnaghten himself was conscious of this, conscious that, under such
leading, the situation was fast becoming desperate, and he employed
the moonshee, Mohun Lal, who was still in Cabul under the protection of
the Kuzzilbash chief, to endeavour to bribe the chiefs of the Ghilzyes.
Two lacs of rupees were offered. The chiefs gave a favourable reply,
and then Macnaghten, with his usual instability, was seized with a
suspicion that they were not sincere, and abruptly broke off the
negotiations, thereby mortally offending the Ghilzye chiefs.

Fresh danger was threatening in another direction. Mahomed Akbar Khan,
the second son of Dost Mahomed, was on his way with a force from the
north, and had already advanced as far as Bamian. Mohun Lal suggested
that an emissary should be sent to offer him a large allowance if he
would join the British. His suggestion was carried out, and money was
spent in other quarters lavishly.

But it was now too late. A quarter of the sum would, a fortnight
earlier, have sufficed to satisfy the demands of all the chiefs of
the tribesmen. Now that success had encouraged the assailants of our
force, and the whole population had taken up arms against us, inspired
alike by fanaticism and hatred and thirsting for blood, it was doubtful
whether even the chiefs could restrain them had they chosen to do so.

In their letters and journals the officers still spoke with kindness
and respect of their unfortunate general. He had been a brave and able
soldier, but age and terrible infirmities had rendered him altogether
incapacitated for action. He had for months been suffering from gout,
and had almost lost the use of his limbs. Only once or twice, after his
arrival to assume the command, had he been able to sit on horseback;
for the most part he was wholly unable to walk. Sometimes he was
confined altogether to his couch; at others he was able to be taken out
in a palanquin. His mind was also enfeebled by suffering. On the very
day of the first outbreak he had been a little better, and had mounted
his horse; but he had suffered a very severe fall, and was carried back
to his quarters.

It was altogether inexcusable that Lord Auckland, against the advice
of the commander-in-chief and the remonstrances of his other military
advisers, should have appointed such a man to a command which, beyond
all others in India, demanded the greatest amount of energy and
activity. There were many men who might have been worthily selected,
men with a knowledge of the political conditions of Afghanistan, of the
feelings of the people, of their language and of their country.

General Elphinstone knew nothing of these things, and depended
entirely upon the advice of others. Had he relied solely upon that of
Macnaghten, things might have gone differently, but he asked advice
from all around him, and took the last that was offered, only to change
his mind again when he heard the opinion of a fresh counsellor. He
was himself conscious that the position was too onerous for him, and
sent down a medical certificate of his incapacity for action, and
requested to be relieved. The request had been granted, and he was to
have returned to India with Macnaghten, but unhappily no other officer
had been appointed to succeed him. It is upon Lord Auckland, rather
than upon the unfortunate officer, who, in the teeth of the advice of
his counsellors and of all common sense, was thrust into a position
for which he was wholly unsuited, that the blame of the catastrophe of
Cabul should be laid.

Macnaghten, in hopes that Brigadier Shelton, a brave officer, but
hot-tempered and obstinate, would be able to influence the general
and to put an end to the deplorable indecision that paralysed the
army, persuaded Elphinstone to send for him to come in from the Bala
Hissar to the camp and bring in with him a regiment of the Ameer's
troops. He came into the cantonment of the 9th, and his arrival was
hailed with the greatest satisfaction, as it was believed that at last
something would be done. Unfortunately, however, Shelton's energy and
the general's weakness were as oil on water. No two men were less
calculated to pull together. Shelton enforced his arguments with a
vehemence that seemed to the general insubordinate in the extreme;
while the brigadier, on the other hand, was unable to make allowance
for the physical and mental weakness of the general, and was maddened
by the manner in which orders that had but an hour before been issued
were countermanded.

On the morning of the 10th the enemy mustered in great force, and
occupying a small fort within musket-shot of the defences, opened a
galling fire. Macnaghten only obtained the general's consent to a party
going out to capture the fort by telling him that unless he gave the
order he should himself take the responsibility of doing so, for that
at any risk the fort must be captured. Thereupon Shelton was instructed
to take two thousand men and attack it. When they were on the point of
starting Elphinstone countermanded the orders. Shelton, in a fury, laid
the case before the envoy, who was as eager as himself, and the general
was again persuaded to give the order and the force advanced.

It was intended to blow open the gate with powder, but by some accident
only a wicket by the side of the main entrance was blown in. Led by
Colonel Mackrell the storming party, consisting of two companies of
Europeans and four of native infantry, advanced. They could with
difficulty make their way through the narrow entrance, for they were
exposed as they did so to a heavy musketry fire, but two officers and
a few soldiers pushed through, and the garrison, believing that the
whole column was following them, fled through the opposite gate. But
unhappily they were not followed. A body of Afghan cavalry threatened
to attack the storming party outside, and these, native and British
alike, were seized with an unaccountable panic and fled. In vain
their officers endeavoured to arrest their flight. The events of the
previous week had terribly demoralized them. Shelton set them a noble
example by remaining on horseback alone, and at last shamed them into
returning. Again the Afghan horse approached, and again they fled.
Again Shelton's expostulations and example brought them back. The guns
in the cantonments drove the Afghans off, and Shelton led his men up to
the capture of the fort.

In the meantime the handful of men who had entered the fort had been
engaged in a desperate struggle for life. The Afghans, discovering
how small was the number of their assailants, re-entered the fort and
fell upon them in overwhelming numbers. When Shelton's force entered,
Colonel Mackrell had fallen mortally wounded, and was carried into
the cantonments to die. Lieutenant Bird, with two Sepoys, were the
sole survivors. They had, when the enemy poured in, taken possession
of a stable and barricaded themselves there, and had successfully
repulsed every attack. When they were rescued their ammunition was
almost exhausted, but they were uninjured, and no fewer than thirty
dead Afghans lying in front of the stable bore mute testimony to the
steadiness and accuracy of their aim.

Several small forts were abandoned by the enemy, and a quantity of
grain was found in them, but as no measures were taken to convey it
into the camp, it was lost again when the troops retired. Desultory
fighting went on all the afternoon without any decisive results, and
the next two or three days passed quietly.

In the meantime the moonshee was making every effort to bring over some
of the chiefs to our side. Macnaghten was sending off letter after
letter to the political officer with Sale, urging the necessity for
an instant advance of the force at Jellalabad. On the 13th the enemy
occupied a hill within range of the cantonment, and planting two guns
there opened a steady fire. Macnaghten spent hours in endeavouring
to persuade the general and brigadier of the absolute necessity for
driving the enemy off the hill, but without success, and it was not
until he took the responsibility upon himself that a detachment under
Shelton was ordered to be sent. It was then four o'clock in the
afternoon. The troops advanced in three columns, and the infantry
rushed forward with such impetuosity that the two guns with them could
not arrive in time to herald their attack. The detachment poured in
a volley within ten yards' distance, but they were unsteady from
their exertions in mounting the hill, and their fire took no effect.
A minute later the Afghan cavalry charged down upon them. The attack
was unexpected, the men in confusion, and the Afghans rode through and
through the ranks. The British troops retreated down the slope, where
they re-formed behind the reserve; the guns opened fire with great
effect, and the infantry again marched up the hill.

Our cavalry now came into action and drove the enemy before them. The
infantry carried the height, and the enemy fled, abandoning their guns.
It was now getting dark. A party of the Ameer's infantry removed one
of the guns; but the Afghan marksmen were keeping up a heavy musketry
fire, and the troops, British as well as Sepoys, were so demoralized
that they refused to advance and carry off the other. It was therefore
spiked and rolled down the hill, while the smaller gun was brought
by the Ameer's troops into the cantonment. The enemy, now strongly
reinforced, attempted to intercept the retreat, but were beaten off.

On the 15th Major Pottinger and another officer came in wounded, and
reported that the Ghoorka regiment that had been retiring from Kohistan
had been entirely destroyed. They defended themselves courageously
against overwhelming forces, and held the barracks they occupied until
maddened by thirst; then they rushed to a stream, where the enemy
fell upon them and cut them to pieces, the two mounted officers alone
escaping after innumerable dangers. On the 17th Macnaghten heard that
there was no hope whatever of assistance from Sale, who was himself
surrounded with difficulties. He now urged that the force should all
retire to the Bala Hissar, behind whose strong walls they could have
maintained themselves. But Shelton vehemently opposed the step, which
would have saved the army from destruction, urging that the abandonment
of the cantonments would be an acknowledgment of defeat.

On the 23rd of November the enemy again appeared on the hill from
which they had been driven, and a strong force moved out against it.
Strangely enough, however, they only took one gun with them. The day
was disgraceful as well as disastrous, for the British force was
signally defeated and the gun was lost, and the troops re-entered the
cantonment in headlong flight, hotly pursued by the Afghans till they
reached the protection of the earthworks. Their conduct showed how
completely the imbecility and vacillation of their commanders, and the
effect of the insufficient rations on which they had to subsist, had
destroyed the moral of the troops. The men who a month before could
have driven the Afghans before them like sheep, were now unable to cope
with them even when in superior numbers.

On the 24th Elphinstone addressed a letter to Macnaghten stating
his opinion that their position could no longer be maintained, and
that he should at once enter into negotiations with the enemy. He
accordingly sent a message to the insurgent chiefs inviting them to
send in a deputation to discuss the conditions of the treaty. Two of
their leaders came in, but as they demanded that the British should
surrender at discretion, giving themselves up, with all their arms,
ammunition, and treasure, as prisoners of war, Macnaghten resolutely
rejected the offered terms.

Angus had been constantly employed from the day he reached the
cantonments. His work was to go out with small parties of the natives
employed by the commissariat to bring in the grain that Boyd and
Johnson had purchased. There was no slight risk in the work, for
although the villagers were glad to sell their corn on good terms,
the party who fetched it ran the risk of being cut off by any band of
tribesmen they might encounter.

Of an evening he talked over the situation and prospects with the two
officers. Absorbed in work as they all were, they were less influenced
by the feeling of hopelessness than those who had nothing to do but to
rage over the trap into which they had fallen through the incapacity of
their leaders. Still, they did not attempt to disguise from themselves
the magnitude of the danger.

"I have no faith in any treaty that could be made," Boyd said. "An
Afghan is only bound by his word as long as it pays him to keep it.
They will take Macnaghten's money, and will promise that we shall be
allowed to go down the passes without molestation; but I am mistaken
indeed if we shall not be attacked the moment we enter them. If they
do so, few of us will ever get through. The men are weak now from
want of sufficient food. They are utterly dispirited and demoralized,
as is shown by their shameful flight yesterday. Besides, they will
be encumbered with a host of camp followers, women, and children. I
am still of opinion that our only hope is to take refuge in the Bala
Hissar, and Shelton's vehement opposition has already put a stop to
that. For myself, I would rather that they attacked us here, even if
the attack meant our annihilation. It would be better to die so than
cooped up hopelessly in the passes. At best the march would be a
terrible one. The cold is severe already, and we hear that the snow is
deep in the passes; not so deep as to render them impracticable, but
deep enough to render the passage a terrible one."

"Of course we are bound to stay with the rest and do our best to the
end. Were it not for that, we three might escape. We all speak the
language well enough to pass as natives. You, indeed, have already done
so. However, of course that is not to be thought of; indeed, it would
probably amount to the same thing in the end, for we could scarcely
hope to reach either Jellalabad or Candahar."

"No, it is not to be thought of, Johnson," his companion said. "We have
to do our duty to the last. I still hope that the general may yet have
an hour of inspiration and deliver battle in good order. I believe that
the troops would fight well if they did but see that they were properly
handled."

On the following day they learned that Akbar Khan had arrived. He was
greeted with great enthusiasm and much firing of guns. Macnaghten had
a faint hope that he would side with us, as his father, mother, and
brothers were in our hands in India; but, on the other hand, he had
every reason for bitter animosity against the British, who had, without
any ground for complaint, invaded the country and dethroned his father.
The prince bore the reputation of being frank, generous, and far
brighter and more cheerful than the majority of his countrymen; at the
same time he was passionate and impulsive, given to sudden bursts of
anger. The wrongs that he and his family had suffered were, indeed, at
present predominant in his mind. For two years he himself had been an
exile from his country. His father, who had tried so hard to gain the
friendship of the British, had been dethroned by them; and as it was
notorious that their captives were always honourably treated, he felt
that no action upon his part would recoil upon their heads.

He himself was now the heir to the throne if he could win it. He was
extremely popular among the people, who hailed his advent as giving
them a leader whom they could rely upon, under whom the chiefs of the
tribesmen could lay aside their mutual jealousy and animosity and join
in the effort to drive the foe for ever from their country. He did
not, however, at once assume the chief authority. The Nawab Mahomed
Zemaun Khan, a cousin of Dost Mahomed, had been proclaimed Ameer by the
tribesmen, and all orders were sent forth in his name. He was a man of
humane and honourable nature, of polished manners, and affable address.

As soon as he learned the state of affairs, Akbar Khan took immediate
steps to prevent further supplies being taken into camp. He burned the
villages where grain had been sold, and placed bands of men to attack
any parties coming out from the camp to purchase grain. Day after day
passed, messengers came and went between Macnaghten and the Nawab, but
nothing was done; the food supply dwindled; only three days' rations
remained in camp.

The supplies doled out were scarcely sufficient to keep life together.
The oxen and other baggage animals were in such a state of starvation
as to be wholly unfit for service. The store of fuel had long been used
up, some men died of cold, and all suffered much. Macnaghten was still
hopeful, and early in December again urged a retirement, but in vain.
The enemy had now guns planted in several positions, and kept up an
almost constant cannonade on the camp. On the 8th there were but three
days' half rations left, and the general informed Macnaghten by letter
that it was absolutely necessary to surrender upon the best terms
that could be obtained; and the three senior officers also signed the
letter, saying that they concurred in it. On the 11th there was but one
day's food left for the fighting men, the camp followers were starving.
Again and again Macnaghten urged that a force should sally out and at
all costs bring in provisions, but the general knew that the men could
not be relied upon to fight. The time had come when even Macnaghten saw
that all hope had gone save in surrender. He drew out the rough draft
of a treaty, and met the leading chiefs of the Afghans at about a mile
from the river.

By this treaty the British were to evacuate Afghanistan. They were
to be supplied with provisions for the journey, Shah Soojah was to
abdicate, and to have the option of accompanying them; but if he did
so, his wife and family were to remain as hostages until Dost Mahomed
and his family were released. The troops at Jellalabad were also to
retire, as well as those at Ghuznee and Candahar. Four British officers
were to be left as hostages, to return to India on the arrival of Dost
Mahomed and his family on the frontier. The conference lasted two
hours, and its main stipulations were agreed to. The meeting then broke
up, on the understanding that the British troops were to evacuate the
cantonments in three days, and that provisions should in the meantime
be sent in. The treaty was a humiliating one, but Macnaghten was not
to blame for it. When the three military chiefs had declared that
there was nothing for it but surrender, he was forced to make the best
arrangement he could, and the terms of the treaty were as good as could
have been expected in the circumstances.

When the conference broke up Captain Trevor, one of Macnaghten's staff,
accompanied the chief to the city as a hostage for the sincerity of
the envoy. On the 11th the Bala Hissar was evacuated. Akbar Khan
pledged himself to conduct the garrison safely to the cantonments,
and kept his promise, succeeding in inducing the crowds of horsemen
who gathered round to let the little detachment pass. The provisions,
however, were not sent in as agreed, and the chiefs refused to send
them until the garrisons were withdrawn from the forts they occupied
round the cantonments. The parties were each suspicious of the other's
good faith. On the 18th snow began to fall heavily. Macnaghten tried
desperately to win over some of the chiefs, lavishing money among
them. The Afghans made fresh demands, and demanded more hostages, and
Lieutenants Conolly and Airey were handed over to them.

On the 22nd Akbar Khan sent in fresh proposals, to the effect that
the British were to remain in Afghanistan till the spring, and then
to withdraw as if of their own free-will. Shah Soojah was to remain
as Ameer, and Akbar as his minister. As a reward for these services
Akbar was to receive an annuity of £40,000 and a bonus of £300,000.
Macnaghten accepted the terms, and agreed to meet Akbar. The offer was
so strange that Elphinstone and others thought that it was probably a
plot. Macnaghten replied that he did not think that it was so, but in
any case he would go. After breakfast he sent for the officers of his
staff, Lawrence, Mackenzie, and Trevor, who had returned, and begged
them to accompany him to the meeting. An hour later they set out with a
few horsemen. As they rode on Macnaghten admitted to his officers that
he was well aware that it was a dangerous enterprise, but that he was
playing for a heavy stake and the prize was worth the risk. "At all
events," he said, "a thousand deaths are preferable to the life I have
of late been leading."

The parties met at some hillocks six hundred yards from the
cantonments, where some horse-cloths had been spread upon the snow by
Akbar Khan's servants. Macnaghten presented to Akbar a splendid horse
he had admired. They dismounted, and Macnaghten took his place on the
blankets. Trevor, Mackenzie, and Lawrence sat behind him. Suddenly the
envoy and his companions were violently seized from behind. The three
officers were dragged away, and each compelled to mount horses ridden
by Afghan chiefs, who rode off through the crowd. Trevor unfortunately
slipped from his insecure seat, and was instantly cut to pieces, while
the other two reached Mahomed Khan's fort alive. In the meantime the
envoy himself was struggling desperately on the ground with Akbar Khan.
Exasperated by the resistance of his victim, whom he had only intended
to seize, the Afghan's passion blazed out, and drawing from his girdle
a pistol, which Macnaghten had given him the day before, he shot him
through the body. Instantly his followers closed round and hacked him
to pieces.

Thus died a gentleman who, in other circumstances, might have made
a great reputation for himself. Possessed of unusual talent, his
course was marred by his propensity to believe all that he wished, to
disbelieve all that ran counter to his own sanguine projects. During
the last month of his life he did all that man could do to avert a
catastrophe, but he had been unable to instil his spirit into any of
the military commanders, or to induce them to take the only course to
redeem the position, by giving battle to the foe that surrounded them.
He was the author of the ill-fated expedition to Afghanistan, he was
its noblest victim. His peculiar temperament was fatal to him. Even
when there was no longer any ground for hope he still continued to be
sanguine. He had all along believed in himself, and scoffed at the
warnings of men who knew the country and people--of Burnes, Rawlinson,
Pottinger, and others.

He was thoroughly sincere; he was always able to convince himself
that what he believed must be true, and he acted accordingly. He was
not a strong man; had he been so the course of events might have been
altered. He deferred in every way to Shah Soojah's wishes, however much
these might be opposed to his own judgment. He allowed him to misgovern
the country, to drive the natives to desperation by the exactions
of his tax-gatherers, and to excite the bitterest animosity of the
chiefs by the arrogance with which he treated them. A strong man would
have put a stop to all this--would have intimated to the Ameer that
he held the throne solely by the assistance of British bayonets, and
that unless he followed British counsels he would at once yield to the
oft-repeated wishes of the Indian government and order the retirement
of the troops.




CHAPTER XV

A DOOMED ARMY


Even the murder of the British envoy within sight of the camp failed to
arouse the military authorities from their deadly lethargy. Sullenly
the troops remained in their cantonments. Not a man was put in motion
to avenge the deed or to redeem the honour of the army. The only
idea was to renew the negotiations that had been broken short by the
murder of their political chief. The commissariat had nothing to do.
Beleaguered as they were, it was impossible to collect provisions
unless a strong force was sent out, and the military authorities
refused to allow a man to be put in motion. They had no confidence in
their soldiers, and the soldiers had none in them. It was their leaders
who had made them what they were. Macnaghten in his wrath had spoken
of them as miserable cowards, but they were not cowards. They had at
first full confidence in themselves, and if ordered would gladly have
attacked the Afghan forces in the open and have carried Cabul by storm.
But kept in enforced inactivity, while fort after fort was wrested from
them without an effort being made to relieve the garrisons, while the
whole of their provisions for the winter were carried off before their
eyes by an enemy they despised, and feeling that on the few occasions
on which they were led from their entrenchments there was neither plan
nor order--no opportunity for showing their valour, none for engaging
in battle, they lost heart. Day by day they were exposed to continual
insults from their exultant foes, day by day exposed to a heavy cannon
and musketry fire, while the food served out was insufficient to
maintain their strength--almost insufficient to keep them alive. It is
not wonderful that their fighting powers were lost, and that they had
become little more than a rabble in uniform.

Angus had now no official duties to perform, and he spent much of his
time with his old friend Eldred Pottinger, now a major, who, after
Macnaghten's murder, took his place, by right of seniority as well as
of energy and talent, as chief political officer. He had been employed
in the west, but had been sent to Cabul, and very shortly afterwards
had proceeded to Kohistan, returning almost the sole survivor of
the little force that was stationed there. His counsel since then
had always been for energetic measures, but his voice, like that of
Macnaghten, availed nothing. He had, however, taken no prominent
part in affairs, having been confined to his bed by the wound he had
received. He was now recovering from it, and took up the work with the
same energy as he had displayed at Herat. As he said to Angus, "It
seems to be my fate to have to do with incapable men. At Herat it was
Yar Mahomed and Kamran, here it is Shelton and Elphinstone. Elphinstone
and Kamran have both in their younger days been fighting men. Both are
utterly worn out bodily and mentally by disease and age.

"Shelton is a brave man, a hard fighter, but his temper overmasters
him. When in the field he shows personal gallantry, but no military
capacity whatever. At first he was always in opposition to the
general; he has given that up as useless, and beyond always
endeavouring to thwart his chief when the latter was roused to
momentary flashes of energy by Macnaghten, he has sunk into a deep
gloom, as if he regarded it as absolutely hopeless to struggle further.
I would that any other than myself had been placed in the position I
now hold. The terms proposed to Macnaghten were hard enough, they will
be still harder, still more disgraceful, now. But however disgraceful
they may be, they will be accepted by the military leaders, and my name
will be associated with the most humiliating treaty a British officer
has ever been called upon to sign."

His previsions were correct. Negotiations were renewed without the
slightest allusion being made to the murder of Macnaghten, and as if
such an event had never happened. While these were going on, little
food was allowed to enter camp--enough to sustain life, but no more.
At last the terms were settled. The Afghan chiefs agreed to supply
provisions, and to send in baggage animals, upon payment being made for
them. Six officers were to be handed over as hostages, all muskets and
ordnance stores in the magazines, all money in the treasury, and all
goods and property belonging to Dost Mahomed, were to be surrendered,
and Dost himself and his family to be returned. No provision whatever
was made for the safety of the man we had placed upon the throne.
Pottinger endeavoured in vain to obtain better conditions. He received
no support from the military chiefs; and even when at last he agreed to
the terms, he did so with little hope that they would be observed.

Warnings came from friends in the city that no dependence whatever
could be placed upon the chiefs, and that in spite of all promises
the force would certainly be attacked on its way down through the
passes. No step was taken by the chiefs to send in either provisions or
carriage animals, and the escort that was to accompany them did not
make its appearance. On the 5th of January the military authorities
determined to march out, contrary to the advice of Pottinger, who
argued that without carriage and provisions, and without the protection
of the chiefs as promised, the prospects of four thousand troops and
twelve thousand followers being able to make their way down through the
passes was small indeed.

Angus had come to rely very much upon Azim for information as to what
was passing outside the cantonment. The latter had during the three
years come to speak the Afghan language perfectly, and in the attire
of a peasant often went out after dark, mixed with the insurgents,
and entered the city. He had each time he went out brought back a
less hopeful report than on the previous one, and Angus was the more
impressed since the young fellow was generally cheery, and disposed to
look on the bright side of things, taking indeed comparatively little
interest in what was going on around him, having absolute confidence
that his master would find some way out of any difficulty that might
confront him.

"I quite agree with all you say, Azim, but I am powerless to act in any
way. If I were here as a private person I should certainly disguise
myself and endeavour to make my way down to Candahar, but as an officer
I must remain at my post, come what may, and share the fate of the
rest. But if you are disposed to try and get down, I will not throw
any obstacle in your way, and will furnish you with money sufficient
to pay your way either back to Persia or down into India, where, with
your knowledge of languages, you will have no difficulty in finding
employment."

Azim laughed. "No, master, whatever comes, I will stay with you. Just
as you are in the employment of government and cannot leave, so am I in
your employment."

Angus did not attempt to push the matter further, for he felt that it
would be useless; and indeed, although he would have done what he could
to procure his follower's safety, he felt that he would be a great
loss to him in many ways. They had been so long together, and had gone
through so many dangers in companionship, that he regarded Azim as a
friend rather than as a servant.

"When you have been in the city, Azim, have you ever seen our friend
Sadut?"

"No, sir; I have heard that he has been in the city many times, and
that he was with the Afghan horsemen who drove our people in, but I
have not seen him. Should I speak to him if I do so?"

"Yes, you might thank him in my name, and your own, for having saved
our lives the other day; but on no account say anything to him about
the future. I cannot make any overtures for help to a man who, though a
friend of my own, is fighting against us. And indeed, however willing
he might be to aid me to the best of his power, he could not do so. If
we are really attacked in the pass, mixed up as we shall be with the
camp followers, we could not be found in the crowd; and you may be sure
that the tribesmen and the Ghazee fanatics will be mad with bloodshed
and hate, and that even a chief would be unable to stand between them
and their victims. Even if he were to send a messenger to me to say
that he and his men would again save me, if I would let him know in
which part of the column I shall ride, I should refuse to do so. It
would be an act of treachery on my part to others, weaker and less able
to take care of themselves than I am."

On the afternoon of the day when the force moved out of the cantonments
Eldred Pottinger sent for Angus.

"Are you ready to undertake a hazardous mission?" he asked. "It is
so hazardous that I would send no one upon it, were it not that I
consider that those who stay here are running as great a risk. After
the murder of Burnes and Macnaghten, I have not the smallest faith in
the chiefs keeping to their promises, and the manner in which they have
failed now to carry out the terms of the treaty heightens my distrust
in them. I do not believe that any of the messengers that have been
sent down of late have succeeded in getting through; and indeed, until
to-day it was impossible to say whether we should really start or
not. The messages sent down were necessarily vague, and were indeed
only requests for aid. I know, and no doubt Sale knows, that it is as
difficult for him to fight his way up the passes as it is for us to
make our way down; but now that, in spite of my advice, Elphinstone and
Shelton and the other officers have decided to wait no longer, but to
start at once, a specific message must be sent."

"I am ready to try to get through," Angus said. "I have no doubt that
while we have been negotiating here, the tribesmen from all the country
round have been gathering in the passes. The only way would be for me
to join some party of men from the villages going that way. Once fairly
in the pass and among the tribesmen, I could leave the party and mingle
with others. Of course it would be slow work going on afoot, but I
should say that it would be quite impossible on horseback."

"I have not much hope that the mission will be of any real use, for
Sale is himself besieged in Jellalabad. Still, one must make an
attempt. I shall enter in my journals--trusting that they will some
day be recovered--that as a last hope I have accepted the offer of Mr.
Angus Campbell to carry a message to General Sale saying that we are
starting, and begging him, if it be possible, to make a diversion in
our favour by advancing as far as he can to meet us. I will not give
you any written document. You are well known to many of the officers
who went down with Sale, therefore no question can arise as to the
message you bear being a genuine one. If you were searched and any
letter found upon you, it would be your death-warrant. Still, I believe
if anyone could get through alive, you can."

"I will do my best anyhow," Angus said, "and I will start as soon as it
becomes dark. It is all easy enough as far as Khoord Cabul, after that
I shall keep a sharp look-out; if I overtake any party of villagers I
shall join them."

"I shall come and say good-bye to you before you start, Campbell."

Angus returned at once to his tent. "You have my disguise ready and
your own, Azim?"

"Yes, sir, I have both ready, and have two of their long guns and some
daggers and pistols."

"I have my own pistols, Azim."

"Yes, master, and it will be as well to take them; but they would be
seen directly if you had them in your girdle."

"No doubt they would, Azim, but there are a good many English pistols
among them now. There were three pairs they got at Sir Alexander's
house, and there have been several officers killed since. I can give
out that I took part in the fight at Sir Alexander's and got these
pistols as my share of the plunder."

"Are you going anywhere, master?"

"Yes, I am going to try to get down through the passes to Jellalabad.
We shall start as soon as it is dark. It will be a terribly dangerous
journey, but I hardly think it will be more dangerous than going down
with the troops."

"What are we to take, master? I will get it ready."

"There is not much that we can take. I will go down to the store myself
and get eight or ten pounds of ground grain. There is not much of it,
for the mills have all been smashed, and we have had to serve the grain
out whole; but I know that there are two or three sacks left in the
stores. There is no meat to be had, nor spirits--not that I would take
spirits if I could get them, for if they were found upon me it would
excite suspicion at once. Another thing, I must stain myself. My face
and hands are nearly as brown as those of the Afghans, but if we were
searched and they took our things off, they would see in an instant
that I was a white. I don't know how we are to get stain."

"I should think, master, that if we were to bake some grain quite
black, and then pound it and pour boiling water over it so as to make
it like very strong coffee, it might do."

"A very good idea. Well, I shall not want you for the next two hours.
I shall go round and see some of my friends and say good-bye to them.
Mind, whatever you do don't say a word to anyone about our leaving."

"I will be sure not to do that, master."

Azim went out to a little tent of thick native blanket a few yards from
that of his master. There he sat looking through the entrance until he
saw his master leave his tent. Five minutes later he issued out in his
Afghan dress, long coat lined with sheep-skins, black lamb's-wool cap,
high boots, and sheep-skin breeches, and at once set off at a brisk
walk. There were at all times many Afghans in the camp, and indeed
many of the camp followers had, since the cold set in, adopted the
same dress; therefore no attention was paid to him, and no questions
were asked by the sentries as he passed out at the gates. As soon as
he got among the gardens and enclosures he broke into a run, which he
continued until he reached a village a mile and a half away, and here
he entered one of the cottages.

"Have you news for us?" one of the four men sitting there said.

"Yes, and good news. My master starts as soon as it is dark. He will
be on foot, and he is going to try and make his way down through the
passes."

"That is good news indeed," the Afghan said. "I was afraid that we
should never get a chance. Which road will he go by?"

"I can't say exactly, but he is sure to leave by the western gate.
He would have more chance of getting away unnoticed on that side. Of
course we shall both be in our Afghan dress."

"We will be on the look-out. I suppose that he will be armed?"

"Yes, he will carry one of your long guns and a brace of pistols. You
had best choose some spot where you can close on him suddenly, for he
would certainly fight till the last."

"We will be careful," the man said. "I don't want to get a pistol ball
in my body. We shall follow at a distance until we find a convenient
spot."

"He is sure to keep along at the foot of the hill so as to avoid your
people on the plain."

"It will suit us best also, as we shall not have far to carry him."

"Mind, you must make a struggle when you seize me as if I was violently
resisting. Then, when we start you must order me to walk, and threaten
to blow out my brains if I try to escape. My master can learn the
truth afterwards. If he were to know it now, he would be furious with
me; but in a few days, when fighting is going on in the passes, and a
great disaster occurs, he will thank me for having prevented him from
throwing away his life, especially as he knows perfectly well that the
English in Jellalabad could not come out to assist those here."

When Angus returned to the tent he found Azim busy roasting the grain.
The Afghan costume had been laid aside.

"Everything is ready, master. The grain is nearly done, and it won't
take me long to pound it up. I got a few sticks down at the stores and
the kettle is just boiling."

"Then as soon as it is ready I will stain myself, but I sha'n't put
on the Afghan dress until the last thing. Have you cooked some of the
flour?"

"Yes, sir, I have made four cakes. They are baking in the ashes now. I
thought perhaps you would eat one before we started, and we can carry
the others for to-morrow."

"I wish, Azim," Angus said, "that there was some chance of this journey
being useful, but I feel convinced that no good can come of it. The
moonshee has sent in a report that confirms the rumours we heard.
There can be no doubt that General Sale is strongly beleaguered in
Jellalabad, and will have all his work to do to hold the place, and
therefore it will be absolutely impossible for him to fight his way up
the pass."

"Then why should you go, master?"

"Because I have been asked to go as a forlorn hope; and also because,
however great the risk I may run, I do not think that it is greater
than it would be if I went down with the army. We have no baggage
animals. We have food for only three days more, and it will only last
that time by cutting down the rations still further. The unfortunate
camp followers are for the most part without warm clothing of any sort,
and will die by thousands. As to the troops, I have no doubt that
most of them will fight when they know that unless they cut their way
through they are doomed, but their chance of victory is small. Here
in the open plain they might even now, if well led and worked up to
enthusiasm by a stirring speech, thrash the Afghans, numerous as these
may be; but pent up in the passes, under a fire from every hillside by
a foe they cannot reach--for in their present weak state they could
never scale the mountains--I believe it will be a massacre rather than
a fight. At any rate, if we are to be killed, I would rather be shot
as a spy than go through such awful scenes as there will be before a
bullet finishes me."

"I don't want to die at all, master; but if it be the will of Allah,
so be it. But, as you say, I would rather be killed straight off than
struggle on through the snows in the passes and get killed in the end."

As soon as it became dusk, Angus and his follower put on their
disguises. A few minutes later Eldred Pottinger came in.

"Well, as far as looks go you will pass anywhere, Campbell, and
certainly as regards language there is no fear of your being suspected.
The real difficulty will be in explaining where you came from. Every
village has sent its contingent of fighting men, and if it happened
that you met anyone from the place you pretended to come from, the
consequences would be very awkward."

"I intend to give out that I have come down from Arcab, which is a
little village to the south of Ghuznee. I went out there once with a
detachment to buy some cattle. It is hardly likely that any of the men
from that place would have come here, for they would naturally join the
bands that are threatening our garrison there. Of course I can invent
some story to account for my not doing the same."

Pottinger nodded. "Well, Campbell, I hope that you will get well
through it. As I told you, I have not a shadow of hope that Sale will
be able to lend a hand to us. Still, although it is but one in a
thousand chances, I feel that it ought to be attempted; and in your
case I say honestly that I consider there is no greater risk in your
going down by yourself, and having your own wits to depend upon,
than in going down with the army--if one can call this broken and
dispirited soldiery an army--for in that case the bravest and clearest
head would share the fate, whatever that may be, of the dullest and
most cowardly."

"I quite see that, and agree with you that nothing can be slighter than
the chances of the army getting down safely. Be assured that whatever
happens, so far from blaming you, I shall consider that you did the
best for me by sending me on this mission."

"I will walk with you to the gate," Pottinger said. "In the daytime
there is no check upon anyone passing in or out, but at night the
sentries are on the alert, and as you are both armed, you would
certainly be stopped."

A minute was spent in packing their scanty stores into the pockets of
their coats, then they started for the gate. Here Pottinger, after
seeing them through, shook hands cordially not only with Angus but
with Azim, whom he had learned to like and value for the devotion he
showed to his master in Herat. They proceeded on their way without
meeting any parties of Afghans until they neared the foot of the hill,
then, as they were passing along a path through an orchard, a party of
men suddenly sprang out upon them, and they were thrown down on their
faces before either had time to offer any resistance. Angus, indeed,
had repressed the natural impulse to try to draw one of his pistols.
Resistance would have meant death, and it seemed to him that these
could only be plunderers.

"What are you doing, fools?" he exclaimed. "Do you not see that we are
friends?"

No answer was given. His captors were binding his hands tightly to his
side; then before raising him they muffled his head in a blanket. He
was then lifted to his feet. He heard the men say to Azim that he was
to accompany them, and that if he attempted escape he would at once be
shot. A man on each side of him put his hands on his shoulder, and one
said: "You are to walk quietly with us; escape is impossible, and it
were well for you not to attempt it."

Angus indeed felt that escape was out of the question. He was unable
to conjecture into whose hands he had fallen. They were not bent upon
plunder, for had they been so, they would have taken his arms, searched
him, and probably cut his throat afterwards. It seemed impossible
to him that they could know he was a British officer, and the only
conceivable explanation he could think of was that men had been
scattered all round the cantonment to prevent anyone from leaving, or
going out with messages to one or other of the chiefs, and that they
had seen him and Azim come out, had followed and seized them, and were
now taking them to some chief to be questioned as to why they were
in the British camp after dark, and for what purpose they had left.
Certainly the affair reminded him of his friendly capture at Cabul; but
it seemed to him altogether impossible that Sadut could have learned
that he was about to start on a mission, or that had he even learned
it, he could have known that he and Azim would have followed the road
on which they had been captured. He soon found that the path they were
following was an upward one, and as it became steeper and steeper, he
was sure that he was being taken into the hills.

Once or twice he addressed his captors, but received no answer. He
walked, as far as he could tell, for two hours. At last there was a
pause. He heard a door open, and felt that he was being taken into a
hut. Then for the first time the pistols and knives were taken from
his sash. His captors, after addressing a few whispered words to some
men who were already in the hut, retired, closing the door behind them
and piling heavy stones against it. The blanket was then taken off
his head. A bright fire was burning in the hut, which he saw was some
fifteen feet square. Four men, armed to the teeth, were standing by
the fire. There was no door save the one by which they had been brought
in, and it was evident that the hut consisted only of this room.

"You are unhurt, I hope," he said to Azim.

"Yes. I was knocked down before I had time to think of doing anything."

"Do you know where they have brought us?"

"No. They threw a cloth over my head."

"How could this have happened, Azim? I cannot understand it at all."

"No more can I, sir."

"When we started to fight against the infidels we never thought that
we should be attacked by our own countrymen. It seems to me that there
must be some mistake." Then he turned to the Afghans. "Why are we
brought here? What harm have we done?"

"That I know not," the man said. "You must have done something, or our
comrades would not have brought you here. That is their business."

"It seems to me," Angus said angrily, "it is our business too. Our
tribe are not at war with any others, and it is a new thing that
Afghans should attack each other when all are uniting to fight the
strangers."

"I know nothing about it. I only know that our comrades brought you
here, and left us to look after you. There are plenty of traitors among
the men who have taken the infidel's gold. They will all be reckoned
with when we have finished with the white men. Well, they did not tell
us to keep you bound, and we will take off the cords if you swear by
the faith that you will make no attempt to escape."

Angus hesitated. It seemed to him that if two of the four men slept he
and Azim could, if unbound, snatch at their weapons, and at least make
a fight for it; that chance would be gone if he gave his word.

"No," he said; "I will make no bargain with men who have deprived me of
my liberty."

"Well, just as you like," the other said, seating himself by the fire,
"it makes no matter to us."

"We may as well sit down too," Angus said, and advancing near the fire
he sat down by the side of the Afghans. Azim did the same.

"Where did you say you came from?" the man who had been the spokesman
of the party asked. Angus briefly named the village he had before
decided upon, and then sat looking silently at the fire. He saw that
his chance of being able to discover at present any plan for escape was
very small. Presently one of the men said, "Let us have supper," and
rising he went to a corner of the hut, where the carcass of a sheep was
hanging from the rafters. He cut off a leg, divided this into slices,
which he spitted on a ramrod, and then put it over the fire. In the
meantime another had unceremoniously placed the four cakes that were
taken from the captives in the embers to warm up. When the meat was
done, the leader said to Angus: "We do not wish to starve you. We will
untie the hands of one of you, and let him eat; when he has done, we
will fasten him up again, and let the other eat in the same way."

This was done. When they were again securely bound Angus said in
Pushtoo: "You may as well lie down now, friend. Perhaps in the morning
the men who have taken us will find out that they have made a mistake
and will let us go, with apologies for having treated friends so
roughly." They lay down close together, but Angus was afraid even to
whisper to his follower, lest it should excite the suspicion of their
guard. For an hour he remained watchful, then he saw two of the Afghans
lie down, but the other two lighted their pipes, and were evidently
going to keep watch. He had tried quietly once or twice to see if the
cords that bound him could be loosened, but he found that although
they had not been tied unpleasantly tight, they were securely fastened,
and did not yield in the slightest to his efforts. He therefore gave up
the idea of trying to free himself from them; and indeed, even if the
guards should all sleep, the prospect was hopeless, for from the noise
made in rolling the rocks against the door, it was certain that this
could not be opened without waking the sleepers. It would therefore be
necessary as a preliminary to kill all of them, and even then he might
not be able to break open the door. At any rate, there was nothing to
do at present. After trying in vain to discover an explanation of their
capture he fell asleep. He woke several times in the night, but found
that two men were always on guard. The next morning he heard the stones
removed from the door, but no one entered. The Afghans breakfasted, and
this time permitted their captives to share the meal with them. From
time to time one or other of the Afghans went to the door and looked
out, and at two o'clock one of them said, "The infidels are moving."

The others went out. "Have you thought of any way of escape?" Angus
whispered in Persian to his follower.

"I can think of nothing," Azim murmured.

As there seemed no obstacle to their going out Angus joined his
captors. He could see on the snow which covered the plain below, the
dark masses of the troops surrounded by a host of camp followers, while
beyond these hovered hordes of Afghans. From time to time horsemen rode
in, evidently delivered some message, and then went off again.

The departure of the troops had been fatally delayed. It was ordered to
begin at eight o'clock in the morning, and at that hour they stood to
their arms. The day was clear and bright, and although four miles from
the camp, Angus could clearly see what was going on. Although it was
now two in the afternoon, only a portion of the troops had left the
camp, and it was not till six o'clock, when night had already fallen,
that the rear-guard left it.

Already confusion had set in; the ranks of the soldiers were broken
up by the terrified camp followers, and presented the appearance of a
vast mob rather than an organized army. Had they started at the hour
fixed they might have reached Khoord Cabul in safety, but the loss
of time was fatal. Only six miles were accomplished, and it was two
o'clock in the morning before the whole gathered, when it was seen that
their numbers were already diminished. The wretched camp followers,
accustomed to the heat of the plains of India, and thinly clad, were
the first to succumb. Hundreds, especially of women and children, sat
down in the snow and were frozen to death. Already the Afghans were
hanging on the flanks, and sometimes making rushes and cutting down
many of the unresisting multitude.

Soon after two o'clock a native came up to the hut and delivered an
order to the Afghans, who at once cut up the remainder of the sheep,
and divided it between them. Then their leader said, "We are to move."
The ropes that bound the prisoners were loosened. One end was tied
round the wrist of each captive, the other being wound round the
waist of an Afghan, allowing a slack of a yard and a half. As soon as
this was done the party moved off. They descended the hill for some
distance, and then followed the lower slopes in the direction in which
the army was moving. They kept on till long after midnight, and then
halted at a deserted hut. Far behind them they could see the flames of
the burning cantonments, which had been fired by the Afghans as soon
as they had removed everything of the slightest value. In the morning
Angus saw that their halting-place was high up above the entrance of
the Khoord Cabul Pass. There was as yet no sign of the army, but in
the afternoon it was seen approaching in a confused mass. The night
had been a dreadful one; soldiers and camp followers, horses and
baggage and cattle were huddled in a confused mass. No warm clothes had
been served out to the followers, and hundreds were frozen to death
during the night, while others were so badly frost-bitten that they
were unable to walk.

As soon as the troops started again the Afghan horsemen attacked the
rear, seizing the baggage, capturing the guns, and cutting down all
they encountered. At noon Akbar Khan, with six hundred horsemen, rode
up. Pottinger sent Captain Skinner with six horsemen to communicate
with him. Akbar said that he had been sent out by the Nawab to protect
them from the attacks of the Ghazees. His instructions were to demand
other hostages as security for the evacuation of Jellalabad, and to
arrest the progress of the force, supplying it in the meantime with
everything it required, until news of the evacuation of Jellalabad by
Sale was received. The troops, however, did not halt until they reached
the entrance of the Cabul Pass. The night was even more dreadful
than the preceding day had been. The Sepoys burned their caps and
accoutrements to obtain a little warmth, and numbers were frozen to
death. At daybreak the crowd of soldiers and camp followers began to
push forward, their only thought now being how to escape death.

Akbar Khan spent some hours in negotiations. Four more hostages were
demanded; Pottinger volunteered to be one of them, Captain Lawrence
had been specially named, and Pottinger chose Mackenzie as the third.
It was agreed that the force should move down through the Khoord Cabul
Pass to Tezeen, there to await tidings of the evacuation of Jellalabad.




CHAPTER XVI

ANNIHILATION OF THE ARMY


In terrible confusion the crowd of fugitives--they were now nothing
more--all entered the terrible pass. The Ghilzyes at once commenced
their attack. In vain did Akbar Khan and his chiefs endeavour to
restrain the fanatics. From the hillsides, from every rocky crag they
opened a murderous fire. That day three thousand men fell, either from
the musket fire or from the knives of the Afghans. The dooly-bearers
had all deserted on the first day, the greater portion of the camels
and ponies had been captured. So far the ladies had escaped; they all
rode next to the advanced guard, as this was considered the safest
point, for the soldiers here maintained some sort of order, and the
Afghans, therefore, devoted their attention to the helpless crowd in
the rear. Again the column halted in the snow.

In the morning the camp followers made another rush ahead, but the
troops, who were ordered to march at ten o'clock, did not move,
for in spite of all the remonstrances of the officers, the general
countermanded the order, believing that Akbar Khan would send in
provisions and troops to protect them. Another terrible night was
passed, and then Captain Skinner rode into camp with a new proposal
from Akbar Khan, namely, that all the English ladies of the force
should be placed under his charge, and that they might be accompanied
by their husbands. Pottinger remembering that Akbar Khan's family were
in the hands of the British, and believing that he was sincere in his
wish to save the ladies and children from destruction, sanctioned the
proposal. Elphinstone at once accepted it. It was the choice of two
evils. On the one hand Akbar Khan had proved faithless, and on the
other certain death awaited the ladies. They were insufficiently clad,
had scarcely tasted food since they left Cabul, and had passed three
terrible nights in the snow. Undoubtedly it was the wiser course to
trust them to Akbar Khan. Accordingly a party of Afghan horse rode
in, and Lady Macnaghten, Lady Sale, and ten other ladies, some twenty
children, and eight officers rode away under their escort.

The next morning the survivors started. The Sepoys had already lost the
greater portion of their numbers; the remainder threw away their guns,
which they could no longer use owing to their hands being frost-bitten,
and joined the disorganized rabble in front. They were attacked in a
narrow gorge, and the pass was soon choked with dead and dying. Not
a single Sepoy survived. Of the sixteen thousand men, soldiers and
camp followers, that had left Cabul four days before, not more than a
quarter were now alive. Akbar Khan watched the slaughter that was going
on, declaring that he was powerless to restrain the Ghilzyes, whom even
their own chiefs could not control. He advised that the remnant of the
British army should lay down their arms and place themselves under his
protection. The general very properly refused the offer, for Akbar
Khan had already acknowledged that he was incapable of restraining the
tribesmen.

The march was continued. The rear-guard was commanded by Shelton, and
nobly they did their work, repulsing several attacks of the enemy,
and giving time for those ahead to pursue their way. Before daybreak
they started again in hopes that they might reach Jugduluk that day.
Despair gave the soldiers strength, and they moved off quietly in order
to obtain a start of the camp followers, who paralysed their action.
The latter, however, were soon on their feet, and as usual endeavoured
to push on ahead of the troops. For some miles the retreat was
uninterrupted, but presently a heavy fire opened on the rear-guard. The
camp followers then rushed in a tumultuous crowd past the troops, and
when, a little later, the head of the column was attacked, they again
fled to the rear, not only hampering the movements of the soldiers, but
carrying many of them away by the impetus of their rush. Steadily until
day broke the Afghan marksmen maintained their fire. Soon afterwards
the advanced guard reached a village ten miles from Jugduluk, and
halting only till the rear-guard came up again pushed forward. Shelton,
with a handful of the rear-guard, kept the Afghans at bay, and covered
the retreat until all arrived in Jugduluk, where they took their post
behind some ruined walls. There was, however, little rest for them; the
Afghans, in ever-increasing numbers, posted themselves on the heights
and opened a terrible fire. Three bullocks were found among the camp
followers; these were instantly killed and served out to the famishing
soldiers, who devoured them raw. Again Akbar's party approached, and
Captain Skinner went out to remonstrate with him for permitting the
continued attacks, but the Afghan prince declared himself incapable of
repressing his men, as his orders were disregarded.

A handful of the 44th Regiment issued out and made a gallant rush at
the enemy and drove them back, but as the main body did not follow
their example, they again retired behind the ruined walls. All night
long and through the next day the force remained at Jugduluk. Akbar
Khan sent in a message inviting the general, Shelton, and Captain
Johnson to a conference, and promised to send in provisions. This
promise he as usual broke, and insisted on retaining the three officers
as hostages.

The conference was resumed the next morning. Akbar now seemed in
earnest in his desire to put a stop to the slaughter; but the petty
chiefs of the tribes between Jugduluk and Jellalabad were now present,
and these would listen neither to his entreaties nor commands, nor to
the offer of large sums of money. They thirsted for blood, and were
determined to extirpate the infidels. Mahomed Shah Khan, to whose
daughter Akbar was married, then came forward and asked whether the
British would pay two lacs of rupees for safe-conduct to Jellalabad.
The general agreed to this, and it seemed that at last the safety
of the survivors was ensured. At eight o'clock in the evening the
survivors, who now numbered but a hundred and twenty of the 44th and
twenty-five artillerymen, again set forth. No provisions had been
sent in during the two days' halt, and all were terribly reduced by
famine. The Afghans rushed down among the camp followers, killing them
unresistingly. The soldiers, however, held together, and, bayonet
in hand, drove off their assailants until they reached the Jugduluk
Pass. They struggled up the narrow and terribly steep ascent until
when near the summit they came upon a barricade composed of bushes and
branches of trees. Here the column was thrown into great confusion,
the camp followers crowding upon the soldiers. The latter fought with
desperation, while the Afghans massacred the unresisting camp followers.

Twelve officers fell here. Their number was large in proportion to that
of the men. They had been no better clothed, and had suffered equally
from cold and hunger; but they did not give way to the depression that
during the first two marches had reigned among the troops. They were
upheld, too, by the feeling of responsibility, and the necessity of
keeping up an appearance of cheerfulness and hopefulness in order to
encourage the men. After desperate fighting some twenty officers and
twenty-five soldiers managed to break their way through the barricade,
and at daybreak reached Gundamuck. There were but two rounds of
ammunition remaining in the men's pouches. Most of them were already
wounded, but they were resolute not to lay down their arms, and when
called upon to do so they refused. Then the mob of Afghans rushed
down upon them. One officer and a few privates were taken prisoners,
but seven officers succeeded in cutting their way through, and being
mounted, left the Afghans behind them, and reached Futtehbad, but
sixteen miles from Jellalabad. Here, however, they were attacked by the
peasantry. Two were cut down at once; the others rode off, but were
pursued and overtaken. Four of them were killed, and one only, Dr.
Brydon, reached Jellalabad alive, the sole survivor of four thousand
five hundred fighting men and twelve thousand camp followers, with the
exception only of those who had been taken over by Akbar as hostages.

This, the greatest disaster that ever befell a British army, was due to
the vacillation and weakness that had characterized every action since
the murder of Sir Alexander Burnes. Had the force pressed forward at
once on the morning when it left its cantonment, the greater portion
would probably have reached Jellalabad, but two days had been lost
before the army reached Khoord Cabul Pass, about ten miles from the
city. There were fresh halts, fresh delays, fresh futile negotiations
again and again, and during the time thus thrown away the enemy from
all the mountains round were gathering in the passes to oppose them,
and building the fatal barricade in the pass of Jugduluk. Had the force
pushed forward with only an occasional halt of a few hours, they would
not have been enfeebled by hunger. By slaying the baggage animals an
abundance of food could have been obtained for all, the opposition they
encountered would have been comparatively feeble, and cold would have
been their only formidable antagonist. Truly it seemed that a curse had
fallen upon the army; that it was Divine retribution for a most unjust
and iniquitous war.

Each day Angus and his followers had been taken along, always being
halted in positions whence they could see the terrible tragedy that
was being enacted. Angus was half mad with grief and with fury that
he was not in his place among the troops. Azim in vain endeavoured to
comfort him, by pointing out that it was not his fault that he was not
there, but that he had been sent away from the army by the order of his
superior; and that even had he not been taken prisoner, he would not be
a sharer in what was going on in the pass.

"That is true, Azim, but it is a poor consolation to me. I feel sure
that Pottinger foresaw what would happen, and that it was as an act
of friendship, in giving me a chance of getting through safely, that
he sent me down. It was no doubt kindly meant, but I would a thousand
times rather have shared the fate of the rest."

"Well, master, for my part I own that I am glad we are up here. I have
no wish to be killed, especially as it would do no good to anyone. Why
should a man throw away his life? Allah has given it to us, and we
shall die when our time comes. But it would be wicked to throw it away
uselessly."

"It is all very well to talk like that, Azim, when one is in safety,
but when one sees one's comrades being slaughtered, a man would not be
worthy of the name did he not long to be with them and to die fighting
by their side. Indeed, we know not at present whether our lives are to
be saved. We know not into whose hands we have fallen, or why we should
thus be taken along to be spectators of this massacre. The whole thing
is bewildering to me."

[Illustration: ANGUS WAS HALF MAD WITH GRIEF AND WITH FURY THAT HE WAS
NOT IN HIS PLACE AMONG THE TROOPS]

They now generally conversed in Persian. Their guards, although
keeping as strict a watch as ever on them, interfered with them but
little. Fortunately the worst scenes took place at night, and were
therefore hidden from those on the hill, the incessant rattle of
musketry alone telling of the relentless pursuit. On the night of the
12th the roar of fire had been louder than ever. At last it ceased
suddenly. Angus and his guards alike remained awake, Angus listening in
agony to the sounds of the combat, the Afghans talking together in low
tones.

"What do you think has happened?" he asked them when some minutes had
passed without the sound of a shot being heard.

"Either Akbar Khan has succeeded in persuading the Ghilzye chiefs to
spare what few there are left of the infidels, or the last man has been
slain."

Angus felt that the latter was by far the more probable solution, and
throwing himself down on the ground he burst into tears. The eight
days of mental suffering had shaken him terribly, and now, feeling
that his worst fears had been realized, he broke down altogether.
Before daybreak his captors moved some distance farther up into the
mountains, and by the cautious manner in which they made their way,
often pausing to look back and round, Angus concluded that they were
desirous of avoiding all contact with their countrymen. He had indeed
before observed how careful they were to avoid the Afghans scattered on
the hillside, and he now concluded that they must be taking him to the
tower of the chief, to be dealt with as he might direct, either shot at
once or held by him as a hostage, for whose delivery he might obtain a
handsome sum should the British again advance up the passes.

All day they travelled among the hills. At last they came upon a large
village. There were no men about, doubtless all had gone to take part
in the fray. The women came out and eagerly questioned them as to the
fighting on the night before.

"We know nothing," the leader said. "We believe that the last of the
infidels has fallen, but we know nothing for certain."

Without pausing they took the two prisoners, whose appearance had
created no surprise, as they were taken for natives, to the chief's
tower, a much larger building than the abodes of most of the petty
chiefs. Standing upon a crag of rock, it overlooked the village;
entrance was only obtainable by a ladder leading to a door some thirty
feet above the rock. Their coming had been observed. An old man stood
at the door.

"So you are back, Suffyd?"

"Yes, as you see. Has the chief returned?"

"No; it is two weeks since we saw him last. He started then with all
the fighting men from here and the other villages; but I expect it will
not be long before he returns, for, from what we have heard, the work
must be nearly done."

The party ascended the ladder, and the leader spoke a word or two with
the old man, who looked greatly surprised. The captives were taken
into a room, which by its furnishing was evidently one of the chief's
private apartments.

"You are free to move about the house," the leader said, "but you must
not leave it."

In a few minutes a woman entered, bringing a dish of boiled grain with
portions of mutton in it. She gave the usual Afghan salutation. She was
followed by another woman with a jug of water, two mugs, and a bottle.
These were placed on a low table, and then without another word they
left the room. A minute later they returned with a large earthenware
dish full of burning charcoal.

"This is a good beginning, Azim," Angus said, his spirits rising at
the sight of the hot food; for although they had not been actually
starved, they had been on extremely short rations when their supply of
flour was exhausted, their captors being, like themselves, reduced to
a handful of unground grain each day. "This does not look as if they
meant to cut our throats. Evidently our Afghan is acting under orders.
Those orders must have been that we were to be well treated."

They ate a hearty meal; then Angus said:

"See what there is in that bottle, Azim."

The cork had already been taken out, and Azim poured some of the liquor
into a tin, and handed it to his master. The latter smelt it.

"It is Afghan spirits," he said, "the same as they sell in the bazaars
in Cabul."

He filled it up with water, and drank it off.

"Now, Azim, do you do the same."

Azim, who was not a very strict Mohammedan, and had more than once
tasted the forbidden drink at Cabul, needed no pressing.

"Well, master," he said, as he put the cup down, "after all this is
better than lying dead and frozen down in the pass."

Angus, warmed with the good meal and by the draught that he had taken,
could not disagree with his follower.

"I begin to think that you are right, Azim, though I did not believe so
yesterday. It is certain that had I joined my countrymen I should have
perished with them, and assuredly I have been saved from eight days of
awful suffering and from death--if, indeed, we are saved from death."

"I think we can feel certain of that, master. This is not the way the
Afghans treat a man whose throat they intend to cut. They certainly do
not make a pillau for him, or provide him with a bottle of spirits."

"Do you know, I have been thinking, Azim," Angus said after a short
silence, "that if it had been possible for Sadut Khan to know that
we intended to leave camp in disguise, this might be his work again.
But he could not have known it. No one but you and I, and Major
Pottinger, and the three or four officers to whom I said good-bye, knew
anything about it. Besides, he would have sent the men who captured
us before, and who knew us by sight. And even supposing, which seems
to be impossible, that this was his doing, why not have sent us here
straight, instead of taking eight days to do a journey that could have
been made easily in two, and forcing me to witness the awful scenes in
the passes? It is all most extraordinary."

"However, there is no question, sir, that whoever our captor may be, he
has been the means of saving our lives."

"There can be no doubt of that, Azim; and though I may not feel that at
present, I shall in the future be very grateful to him. Even if he were
to have us shot directly he comes here, I should still be grateful, for
it would be a sudden death and not a lingering one, as it has been to
those below. Well, it is of no use puzzling ourselves over the matter.
I suppose we shall learn how it all came about when the chief, whoever
he be, returns here. In the meantime we are certainly a great deal
better off than we have been for the past two months in cantonments."

"That we are, master. To begin with, I am warm for the first time since
the winter set in; and in the next place, I have had a good meal, and
do not feel that I could grumble at anything. As to your mission, you
said yourself that nothing could come of it, even if you succeeded in
getting through, so that in that respect nothing has been lost by our
journey being so suddenly brought to an end."

The next day some of the men who had been away with their chief
returned, and the old man in charge told Angus that only one man out of
all who had started from Cabul had reached Jellalabad, but that several
officers had been taken as hostages, including the two generals,
Major Pottinger and Captain Johnson, and two others; also, that all
the ladies and children, and the ladies' husbands, had accepted the
protection of Akbar.

It was a relief, indeed, to Angus to find that his friends Pottinger
and Johnson had been saved, and as Captain Boyd was one of the married
officers, he also must have escaped the massacre. As to the fate of
Elphinstone and Shelton he was indifferent, it was to them that the
misfortune that had befallen the army was largely due; but the thought
that his three greatest friends had escaped gave him much pleasure.
With these exceptions, that but one man out of sixteen thousand five
hundred should have escaped was appalling. That the loss had been
terrible he was well aware, but he was hardly prepared for the total
annihilation of the force.

Another two days passed. They continued to be well fed and treated,
and the women who waited upon them seemed to regard them as guests
rather than as captives, talking freely with them, and only being
silent when Angus endeavoured to find out the name of their chief. It
was evident that on this point they had orders to keep silent. On the
third day they heard a stir in the village, and shouts of acclamation
and welcome. The room in which they were confined was at the back of
the house, and they were therefore unable to obtain a view of what was
passing.

"We shall learn our fate now, Azim," Angus said.

"I have no fear of its being a bad one, master. We cannot doubt that
orders were given that we should be well treated. If we are kept
prisoners till the spring, for my part I shall not grumble if they
continue to treat us as well as they have been doing."

They heard the sound of many footsteps and loud talking, then the door
opened and Sadut Khan entered. He advanced with both hands outstretched
to Angus.

"My dear friend," he said, "how thankful I am that you have been saved
where so many have perished!"

"And so it is you, chief, to whom I owe my life?" Angus said, returning
the warm grasp of Sadut's hand. "I did not thank you at first, for it
seemed to me shameful that an English officer should not share in the
fate of his comrades."

Sadut smiled. "But in no case would you have shared their fate. It is
not from that I have saved you, but from being killed on your way down.
Knowing that the passes were full of our people, I was sure that you
must have been taken and murdered. No story you could have told would
have availed you. You were not a Ghilzye, nor a member of any of the
tribes there, and you would assuredly have been detected and killed had
I not saved you."

"That is so, Sadut; and although at first I was half-mad at being
unable to join my countrymen, I saw before the end came that, had I
done so, my life would have been thrown away uselessly."

"Exactly; and that was why I ordered that you should be enabled to see
all that passed. From what I had seen of you, I was sure that at first
you would bitterly resent being taken prisoner, and that even if you
knew into whose hands you had fallen you would resist; and it was for
that reason that I did not this time employ Hassan and his followers to
seize you, though all through your journey they kept close at hand, to
use my name and authority should any party of tribesmen meet you--not
that I had much fear of your detection had they done so. The men with
you had orders that in case they did meet such a party, they were to
treat you both, not as captives, but as forming part of their own band.
Still, it was as well that Hassan should be at hand in case of need."

"I thank you with all my heart, Sadut. I could not have done so at
first, but I can do so now; you have indeed saved my life. A few days
ago that seemed to me as nothing, for I felt that I was dishonoured in
looking on at the massacre of my countrymen. I have had time to think
it over since, and I now know that the view I took was exaggerated.
Could I have joined them it was plainly my duty to have done so, but if
I was a prisoner no blame could attach to me. Have you, chief, taken
part in this terrible business?"

"No. With twenty of my own horsemen I rode with Akbar, who is my friend
and relative, but I had no intention of drawing my sword against your
people. I knew that they had been promised protection, and I thought
that Akbar and his force were going to escort them. His word had been
given, and I did not think he would withdraw it.

"I do not think it was his intention to do so. He could have done much
more than he did, but he could not have saved the fugitives. The Nawab
was alone among the Afghan chiefs in the sincerity of his assurances.
Akbar had no influence with the Ghilzye chiefs, and even had he
influenced them they could not have restrained their tribesmen and
the Ghazees. The die was cast. It was Allah's will that those who had
invaded the country without any pretext, dethroned Dost Mahomed, who
had eagerly sought their alliance, and forced a man we all hated upon
us, should meet their fate. Over and over again we implored Akbar, for
the sake of his pledge and his word, to assist your people; even if,
in his efforts to do so, he fell, then his name would go down as long
as our nation existed as one who died in defence of his oath and his
honour. He was all along irresolute. At times he did his best short
of attacking the Ghilzyes, at other times he held aloof altogether
from the scene. At any rate, I can feel that my honour is not soiled.
I was not one of those who signed the treaty, but I have done my best
to prevent that treaty from being violated. Had your people sallied out
from the cantonments and given us battle, I should have fought against
them. But even had there been no treaty, I would not have taken part in
the massacre of men who were practically defenceless, and who were in
no way responsible for the crime of their government."

"I am glad to hear you say so, chief. I should have been grieved
indeed had you taken part in so treacherous and terrible a massacre.
But how did you learn that I was going to try to make my way down to
Jellalabad? That I have never been able to understand."

"I kept a watch over you the whole time, my friend. Either Hassan, or
one of his men who knew you, was always in the camp, dressed as one of
the camp followers."

"But even then I cannot imagine how he could have told that I was
going. I knew it myself but a few hours before I started, and only
Major Pottinger and three or four of my friends were aware of it."

"My watch was a good one," the chief said, "and when two Afghans issued
from your tent you may be sure the news was quickly brought to the men
who had for some days been lying in readiness, and who were prepared to
repeat the adventure in the city."

Suddenly, to the astonishment of Angus, Azim threw himself on his
knees. "Master!" he exclaimed, "you can kill me, but I own that it was
I who betrayed you. I had met Hassan in the camp, and he told me that
assuredly no white man would escape alive, that it was settled that all
should be attacked and slain in the passes. He said that Sadut Khan
had resolved to save you, but that to do this with certainty it would
be necessary that he should be informed as to your movements, and where
you would ride when the army started. He said that unless I helped them
it might be impossible to save you. Then I agreed to do so, and met him
or one of his men every day. As soon as you had left the tent after
telling me of your expedition, I ran to the spot where I knew I should
find Hassan, and told him that we were going alone. He said at once
that it would be certain death were you to try to go down the pass, and
that you must be carried off as soon as you had left the camp. I knew
well that you would be greatly angered, and that if you suspected me
you would kill me for my treachery; but that was nothing compared to
your life, and so I turned traitor to you, and am willing now that you
should order me to be taken out and beheaded."

Angus held out his hand to his faithful follower. "I should have been
angry at first--grieved and angry too, but I cannot be angry now.
You did what you believed to be best for me, and I acknowledge that
it has turned out so. Your treachery was but an act of fidelity, and
undoubtedly was the means of saving my life. You did wrong, but it was
with the best intentions. You ought to have confided in me."

"But I knew that if I did so you would not have consented."

"That is true enough; still, I was the best judge of what was
consistent with my honour. However, next to Sadut Khan I owe you my
life, and it would be but poor gratitude were I to reproach you. Let us
say no more about it. I shall remember always that you saved my life,
and shall forget that you somewhat betrayed my trust. I have for four
years past regarded you as my friend rather than as my servant, and I
shall esteem you even more so in the future."

Azim retired with tears of joy in his eyes. Sadut and Angus had a long
talk together. As if by mutual consent, the subject of the late events
was avoided, and the conversation was upon their journey across the
Bamian and Sadut's doings since that time.

"I stayed at Khooloom until the governor, whom we had trusted
implicitly, handed over Dost Mahomed's family and mine to your people.
I happened to be away at the time, and on my return two days later
was warned by Hassan of what had taken place. When Dost returned from
captivity among the Turkomans, of course I joined him and accompanied
him to Kohistan, and fought by his side in the battle of Purwandurrah.
The Ameer had said no word even to me of his intention to surrender,
and I was thunder-struck when I heard that he had given himself up. I
remained there, and took part in the attack on the Ghoorka regiment, at
Charekar. After that I returned home. My fortress, as you know, lies
far to the west among the Momunds. This place does not belong to me,
but to the husband of a sister of mine. She is at present at my place
with her husband, who is ill; and as I wished to be nearer to the scene
of action, he begged me to use his fort as a residence. I desired to
hold myself aloof from the negotiations, as I knew that most of the
chiefs were open at any moment to betray the cause for British gold.
Still, I was often down in the city, where I own the house to which you
were taken. I no longer hated your people as infidels--your kindness
to me showed me that there was goodness in your religion as well as in
mine--but I was still ready to fight against them as the invaders of my
country."

"And now, chief, what do you propose to do with me?"

"That is for you to decide, my friend. I know what you will say, but,
though I may regret it deeply, I shall certainly offer no opposition.
You are my guest, and it is not for me to dictate to you. I should be
happy if you would stay with me till these troubles have passed, but I
place myself wholly at your disposal, whatever you may decide upon."

"Thank you, indeed. It is clear to me that if it is in my power I
should immediately rejoin our forces."

"I was sure that that would be your wish, and I will send you down with
a strong escort to Peshawur."

"I would rather join Sale at Jellalabad."

Sadut Khan shook his head. "In that case," he said, "I shall have
rescued you in vain. Sale's force is already besieged, and it will
be but a repetition of Cabul. By orders of Akbar Khan, the Ghilzye
chiefs have all risen. The town is practically without fortifications,
though I hear that the white soldiers have been labouring hard to put
the place in a state of defence. But if the army at Cabul could not
withstand us, still less will Sale's force, which is only a third of
its strength, hold Jellalabad."

"You forget, chief, that they are commanded by a man, and not by an
utterly incapable person. They are not dispirited by forced inaction
or want of food. I do not say that Jellalabad may not be taken, but I
feel sure that it will offer a sturdy resistance, and the news of what
has happened in the passes will only fill the soldiers with fury. At
any rate, Sale's is the only force that remains of the army to which I
was attached, and it is there that it is my duty, with your permission,
to go. I am sure that were you in my place that would also be your
decision."

"So be it," Sadut said after a long pause. "Were you to go to Peshawur
you might meet your death there also, as doubtless a force will
endeavour to relieve Jellalabad, and in that case you would certainly
go with them. They will never force their way through the Khyber
Pass. From what I hear the Sepoys at Peshawur are almost in a state
of mutiny. The Sikhs have sapped their loyalty, and have assured them
that they will never be able to force the pass; and when they do move
forward they cannot be depended upon to stand by the British troops
so that your danger may be as great one way as another. However,
Jellalabad is your choice and not mine. The citadel there is strong,
and when the town is captured, as it certainly will be soon, the troops
can retire there, and may hold out until they make terms and are
allowed to return to India."

"I do not think they will make terms, Sadut. They have had a terrible
lesson as to the manner in which treaties are respected by the greater
portion of your chiefs, and are not likely to trust again to any
promises, but will hold out until they have fired their last cartridge."

"They cannot hope to defend themselves," Sadut said positively. "Akbar
Khan will himself head the army."

"I do not think, Sadut, that you know yet what a British soldier can do
when well led. There has been no great battle fought since we entered
Afghanistan, and you must not judge them by the small fights that took
place round Cabul; the soldiers there had lost heart and confidence in
their commander. It will be a very different thing when you meet them
confident in themselves and in their leaders. Believe me, your hosts,
however large, do not frighten them. You know how they have overcome
many of the best fighting races in India, and that in the teeth of odds
as great as can be brought against them here. I say not a word against
the courage of your people, but they want discipline and training, and
even a host of men fighting each for himself, cannot withstand the
charge of well-disciplined soldiers."

"Why did they not come up the passes, then, to aid their friends."

"Because they were deficient in carriage, they were in a country
altogether hostile to them, they had many sick, and must have left a
strong force to guard them. There may have been other reasons of which
I know not, but these are sufficient. For a force to enter these passes
without animals to carry their food and their wounded would have been
madness. And I believe that Sale has not more than twelve hundred
bayonets, a force sufficient to do wonders in the plains, but which
could hardly fight their way up the passes against thousands of good
marksmen, as the Afghans assuredly are, armed with guns which carry
much farther than their own, and firing in safety behind inaccessible
rocks. But whether Jellalabad can resist all attacks, as I believe,
or whether the place falls, is a matter which does not affect my
resolution. It is my duty to be there, and if you will afford me means
of getting there I will assuredly go."

"We will start to-morrow, then, and the sooner we are off the better.
The news of what has happened in the passes will spread like flame
through the country, and every fighting man will turn out to complete
the work. There is a pathway from here which goes straight down to
Gundamuck. I will ride with you with half a dozen of my followers;
there are plenty of ponies on the hills. Certainly no questions will be
asked, no suspicions can arise. When we get near Jellalabad we shall
see how you can best enter. I will ride round the place with you. As
I am a friend of Akbar's, it will be supposed that I am examining the
place to see where an attack had best be made. There are many orchards
and small villages round. When we are as near the town as we can get,
you can slip from your horse as we go through an orchard. Keep under
cover in the gardens until close to the walls. When you get within
musket-shot you can tie a white cloth to your gun, and you will then be
safe."

This plan was carried out, and two days later, after a grateful parting
from his preserver, Angus stood at the edge of the moat opposite one of
the gates.




CHAPTER XVII

JELLALABAD


A sentry had already sent down word that two Afghans had approached
carrying a white flag, and an officer appeared on the wall.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"We want to come in, Thompson. I am Angus Campbell, and have escaped
almost by a miracle."

There was a shout of pleasure, and a minute later the gate was opened,
and Thompson ran out and warmly shook Angus by the hand.

"I am delighted to see you," he said. "We all thought you among the
slain in the passes. What an awful time it has been since we left
Cabul on our way, as we believed, to India! We can scarcely believe
the terrible news even now. We have learnt but little from Brydon, who
was, he thought, the only survivor, except the hostages who, he tells
us, were given over a few days before the end came. He was desperately
wounded, and could scarce sit his horse when he arrived, and has been
too ill to give us any details."

"I can give very little, for I was not with the army. I started the
evening before they left camp, on a mission from Pottinger to Sir
Robert Sale. Pottinger did not think that any help could possibly come,
but at the same time he thought it right to make one more effort to
communicate with your general, and to tell him that they were on the
point of starting. I had gone but a short distance when I was captured.
Fortunately the men who took me were followers of Sadut Khan. I was
taken to his fort. He was absent at the time; when he returned he at
once gave me my liberty, and escorted me to within a quarter of a mile
of the wall, as a return for a service I had rendered him two years
ago."

"That was a piece of luck indeed. Then you saw nothing of it?"

"Yes, I saw a great deal. My captors were, I suppose, anxious to see
what was going on, and we followed the course of the army, keeping on
the hill; and, except for the fighting at night, I saw almost the whole
of the tragedy."

While they were talking they were approaching the head-quarters of
the general. Angus was well known to Sir Robert, to whom he had often
carried messages and notes from Burnes or Macnaghten. When their first
greeting was over, he repeated the story he had told Captain Thompson.
He thought it best to say no word of his escape being the result of a
preconcerted plan on the part of Sadut Khan, as he felt that some might
suspect that he was privy to the scheme, and had taken advantage of the
friendship of the Momund chief to make his escape.

"I am not so surprised as I might otherwise have been," the general
said, "since I received a letter from Pottinger yesterday. Akbar
had allowed him to send it down, thinking that the information that
Elphinstone, Shelton, Lawrence, Mackenzie, and Pottinger himself were
all right might induce us to submit to terms. He said, 'I trust that
before this you will have heard that we are about to start from Mr.
Angus Campbell, who nobly accepted the desperate mission of penetrating
through the passes and bringing you word of our intention. Should he
have arrived safely, I beg to recommend him most strongly to the
authorities for accepting the mission, which seemed almost a hopeless
one. He has rendered great service during the time the troops have been
in cantonments, by aiding the commissariat officers in bringing in
grain.' As you had not arrived we naturally feared that you had been
murdered on your way down. I am glad indeed that you have escaped. You
will now, of course, give your assistance to Macgregor, our political
officer."

"If he cannot utilize my services, sir, and he can have but little
political work to do now, I shall be glad if you will attach me to one
of the regiments where you think I may be most useful."

"You had better talk it over with Macgregor first. You know him, of
course; and if he does not want you, I will attach you to my own staff.
With your knowledge of the Afghan language, your services might be
invaluable in obtaining information; or, should we make a sortie--and
we have already made one with effect--I should be glad, if you wish it,
to attach you either to the infantry or cavalry, whichever you prefer.
Now that you have told us about yourself, please give us any details
you can of what you saw of the fighting?"

"It can hardly be said that there was any fighting, sir; until the last
day the troops were so completely surrounded, and I may say overwhelmed
by the camp followers, that they were practically unable to use their
arms. General Shelton with the rear-guard fought nobly, and covered
the retreat into Jugduluk, until the time when he was enticed with
the general into Akbar's camp, and there held as a hostage. By what
I heard, the handful of men left, only about a hundred and fifty all
told, fought desperately to break their way through a barricade with
which the Afghans had blocked the top of the pass. Only ten officers
succeeded in breaking through, and of these all but one were killed
on the road. All the soldiers died fighting at the barricade, and many
officers. The last Sepoy had fallen two days before."

"It has been a bad business," General Sale said, "bad not only in its
terrible result, but in the manner in which affairs were conducted.
We here received with astonishment the news that four thousand five
hundred British troops were cooped up by a horde of Afghans without
one single attempt being made to bring on a battle in the open.
Officers and men alike were astounded when Pottinger's first letter
arrived, saying that negotiations were continued after the murder of
Macnaghten. However, all this is a matter for future investigation.
And now a personal question. Can you tell me how it was that my wife,
Lady Macnaghten, and the other ladies, escaped uninjured? I only
know from Pottinger that the ladies and children were handed over to
the protection of Akbar, and that those who had husbands were also
accompanied by them."

"The ladies were always kept close behind the advanced guard, sir.
As these showed an unbroken front, the Afghans allowed them to pass
without opposition, falling upon the confused mass behind them."

"Do you think that Akbar was a sharer in this treacherous attack?"

"I think his conduct was doubtful in the extreme, sir. He certainly
did try more than once to persuade the Ghilyze chiefs to allow the
survivors to pass on unmolested, but by that time the passions of the
Afghans were absolutely beyond control. I myself have great doubts
whether he would have interfered had he not been well aware that his
interference would be useless. But this is only my opinion, based upon
the facts, that in the first place he himself shot Macnaghten, whom
he had invited to a conference; in the second place, he took no step
whatever to carry out the condition to supply baggage animals and
provisions; and lastly, because I know that long before the column set
out on its march, he sent out orders to the Ghilzye chiefs to attack
you."

"The case certainly looks very black against him," the general said;
"but at least we may hope that, as his family are in our hands in
India, he will protect the hostages."

"I hope, sir, that he will hand them over to the Nawab, who appears
to me to be a thoroughly honest man. Undoubtedly he did his best to
persuade the chiefs to agree to the treaty with us. He certainly did
send in some provisions to the camp, and generally we formed a high
opinion of his kindness of heart. Your fortifications are stronger than
I expected to find them, from what I have heard, sir."

"Yes, the men have worked incessantly at them ever since we came here.
The mud walls can scarcely be said to have existed when we marched in.
There was no parapet, the ditch was filled in with rubbish, and the
walls had so crumbled away that carts could cross over them at almost
every point. Fortunately the men were in good heart, and all, Europeans
and Sepoys, have worked with an energy beyond praise. The moat has been
cleared out and filled with water, the walls have been scarped, and a
parapet twelve feet high erected. The bastions have been put in order;
and though, had we been seriously attacked at first, we must have
retired to the citadel, we are now ready to withstand any assault."

Angus next went to Macgregor, who received him most warmly.

"I am glad indeed to see you, Campbell. Pottinger mentioned you in his
reports as doing invaluable service with Boyd and Johnson. You will
not find much in our line here. When the sword is once drawn, there
is nothing for us to do until it becomes a question of our dictating
terms, a contingency not likely to arise for some time."

"Had you hard fighting to get here?" Angus asked.

"No fighting at all. As we marched down from Gundamuck, the natives
all supposed that we were on our way to Peshawur, and when we suddenly
turned and marched towards the city, it was too late for them to think
of resistance, and they simply bolted on one side of the town as we
marched in on the other. We were bitterly disappointed when we saw
the state of the walls, and it was a question for some time whether
we should not content ourselves with holding the citadel only. But
it was at last determined, for a time at least, to hold the town,
as our retirement to the citadel would look like weakness. Another
consideration was, that once in the citadel we should be shut up
entirely, for, as you see, it stands in the middle of the town, and
with the streets crowded with the enemy, there would be no getting out
to obtain provisions.

"The result has proved the wisdom of the step we took. The walls are
now strong enough to be obstinately defended, and from their extent
we have been able to sally out at one gate or another and bring in
provisions. We had but two days' food when we arrived here; now we
have succeeded in gathering in a sufficient quantity to keep the
troops on half rations for two months, and I hope that before it is
finished we shall be relieved from Peshawur. We gave the natives a
handsome thrashing on the day before we got in here. They attacked us
in great force, trying especially to carry off our baggage, but the
infantry repulsed them splendidly. However, they came on to renew the
attack. The cavalry were placed in ambush, and the troops, after at
first advancing, suddenly wheeled round and went off at the double.
The enemy, believing that they had achieved a great victory, rushed
after them. As soon as they reached an open space, the cavalry fell
upon them. For months they had been inactive, being of no use among the
hills. Now was their chance, and in a moment they were in the thick of
the Afghans. They made terrible havoc among them, and thus it was that
we were able to enter the town without further trouble. The next day,
the 13th of November, Broadfoot was appointed garrison engineer. He had
a small corps of sappers with him, and they soon set to work.

"On the morning of the 16th, the enemy were thick in the gardens round
the town, the principal body being on the hillside. It was resolved to
give them another lesson. They were, as could be seen from the highest
point in the city, some five thousand strong, and Colonel Monteith of
the 35th Bengal Infantry, took out eleven hundred men at daybreak. The
advance was covered by the guns which had been mounted on the walls,
and their shrapnel soon drove the enemy into the open. The infantry
pressed forward and scattered them, and the cavalry completed their
rout. It was this defeat that so cowed them for a time, that I was
able to fetch in grain, sheep, firewood, and other necessaries. I may
mention that I took upon myself, as soon as we came in here, the post
of commissariat officer. It was not until the end of the month that
they again mustered in force sufficient to attack us; they contented
themselves with hovering round and keeping up a desultory fire.

"On the 1st of December, however, they gathered in great numbers, and
seemed to threaten an attack. Colonel Dennie commanded this time, and
he took out the greater portion of the garrison and a couple of guns.
It was noon when he sallied out. Abbot's guns commenced the action by
pouring a tremendous fire of grape into the thick mass. They fled in
wild confusion; the cavalry cut them up terribly, and the infantry
overtook and bayoneted many of them. It could scarcely be called a
fight. The day was won directly the guns opened fire, and we did not
lose a single man. Since that time they have not ventured to attack us.

"News came day after day of the terrible mess at Cabul. The news was
kept as far as possible from the troops, so as not to discourage
them; but, of course, since Brydon came in, the truth of the terrible
massacre had to be told. I am happy to say that, although filling them
with wrath and indignation, it has in no way abated their spirit.
During the six weeks' rest we have had since the battle of the 1st
of December, we have, as you see, really done wonders in the way of
fortification, and consider that we are in a position to repulse any
attack however formidable."

"When do you expect that a relief column will arrive from Peshawur?"

"That is a grave question which I cannot answer. Our last news was
that Brigadier-general Wyld was on the point of advancing, but from
the tone in which he wrote he had evidently no great hope of success.
His four Sepoy regiments had been corrupted by the Sikhs, who, having
themselves a great repugnance to enter the passes, had endeavoured, and
successfully, to inspire the Sepoys with the same feeling. The Sikhs,
who were to co-operate with him, were themselves in a state of open
mutiny, and threatened to kill General Avitable if he interfered with
them. He intended, however, to advance, as the case was so urgent, but
with little hope of success. He was without cavalry, and had but two
guns on Sikh carriages, which would probably break down after a few
rounds had been fired. It was the letter of a brave man surrounded with
difficulties, but ready to attempt almost the impossible to bring aid
to us. I fear, however, that there is little chance of our relief until
reinforcements from India reach Peshawur."

This opinion was justified when, on the 28th, news was brought that
the movement had failed. On the 15th Colonel Moseley had started under
cover of night with the 53rd and 64th native regiments to occupy the
fortress of Ali Musjid, which had been held by a small corps of men
of one of the native tribes under Mr. Mackeson. They had been true to
their salt, and had resisted every attack of the Afridis. Moseley's
force arrived there at daybreak, and met with but little opposition on
the way. But it was discovered that, owing to some blunder, only fifty
supply bullocks had been sent on instead of three hundred and fifty
that should have accompanied the force. Therefore, instead of having
a month's provisions, they had but enough for a few days. Brigadier
Wyld started on the morning of the 19th to relieve them, but on the
preceding day the Sikh troops refused to enter the pass and marched
back to Peshawur. Nevertheless, Wyld determined to press forward with
the two native regiments. As soon, however, as the enemy attacked them
the Sepoys at the head of the column wavered and opened an aimless fire.

In vain the Brigadier and the officers endeavoured to persuade them to
advance. They would not move forward, nor would the rest of the troops
advance to their assistance. The two guns broke down after a round or
two, and what little spirit remained among the Sepoys evaporated at
once, and the column had to fall back. One of the guns was spiked and
left behind, the Sepoys refusing to make any effort to bring it off.
The Brigadier, who with several of our officers was wounded, saw that
it was impossible to persevere, and the force fell back beyond the
pass. Moseley could obtain no news, and was unaware of the repulse of
the relieving column. Although the troops were on half rations supplies
were nearly exhausted. The water was bad, and numbers of the Sepoys
fell ill, and on the 23rd he determined to evacuate the fortress. Two
officers volunteered to hold it, but the Sepoys would not support
them, and the former native garrison had lost heart; so, on the 24th,
the force marched out. The Afridis mustered strongly to oppose the
retreat. The Sepoys, animated now by the hope of safety, fought well.
Two British officers were killed, most of the baggage lost, and some of
the sick and wounded had to be abandoned, but the main body got through
safely.

Such was the news that was brought by a native in our pay, together
with a letter from Brigadier Wyld saying that it would be impossible to
renew the attempt until reinforcements of at least one British regiment
with some guns arrived. But the news that help was still far distant
in no way discouraged the garrison of Jellalabad, who redoubled their
efforts to strengthen the fortifications and to prepare by their own
unaided efforts for the worst.

At Peshawur Wyld's repulse bore the natural consequences. The
discontent among the Sepoy's increased, many deserted, and expressions
of determination never to enter the pass again were common among them.
Sickness broke out, and when on the 25th of February General Pollock,
who had been selected to command the force gathered there, and invested
with full authority on all other matters, arrived, he found a thousand
men in hospital; a week later the number was increased to eighteen
hundred.

No better man than Pollock could have been chosen. He possessed at once
great firmness, kindness of heart, and a manner calculated to inspire
confidence. He declared to the central authorities at once that, even
with the brigade which had come up with him, to advance up the pass
would be to court another defeat. The four Sepoy regiments that had
been engaged could, in their present state, not be counted on for
service, and the force at his disposal was therefore no greater than
that which Wyld had lost. He set to work in the first place to restore
confidence. It was a difficult task. Many even among the officers had
become affected with the spirit of defection, and did not hesitate to
express their opinion that an advance through the Khyber Pass would
involve a repetition of the Cabul disaster. The new Sepoy regiments
were at once visited by emissaries from those of Wyld's brigade and
from the Sikhs, who endeavoured in every way to persuade them also to
refuse to enter the pass, and succeeded in the case of the 26th native
regiment, who joined the four other battalions in refusing to advance.
On the day after his arrival General Pollock visited all the hospitals,
enquired into the ailments of the sick, and talked encouragingly to
them. Then he went to the Sepoy regiments, enquired into the cause of
their discontent, and exhorted them to return to their duty, and not to
bring disgrace upon regiments that had so many times in the past proved
their courage and loyalty.

His task was a hard and difficult one, but his method of mildness and
firmness combined gradually restored their spirits and discipline;
and the knowledge that reinforcements were on their way, with a good
proportion of European troops, including cavalry and artillery, greatly
aided his efforts. Still, until these reinforcements arrived, Pollock
could do nothing but reply to the urgent letters of Sale and Macgregor
by pointing out his inability to move.

On the 19th of February Angus was with Macgregor on the walls of
Jellalabad. The men were as usual working hard and steadily, grateful
in the thought that their long labour had borne its fruits, and that in
a few days they would be able to lay by their picks and shovels, the
work that they had been set to do having been accomplished.

"Another week," Captain Havelock, who was acting as Persian interpreter
to Macgregor, said to Angus, "and the whole work which Broadfoot traced
out will be finished. In one respect I am sorry that it should be so,
for there is nothing like active work for keeping men's spirits up
and preventing them from feeling the effects of idleness. I think--"
and he stopped abruptly. There was a sudden tremor of the earth and
a deep sound like thunder, then they were both thrown off their feet.
The walls, the houses, the whole city, swayed and shook. Then came
the crash of falling houses, wild shouts of alarm and pain; the earth
crumbled beneath them, and they rolled down together into the moat. On
finding that they were unhurt they scrambled up the slope of earth. A
terrible sight presented itself. A third of the buildings in the town
had fallen. But this was not the worst. Several of the bastions had
been destroyed; almost all the parapets were thrown down; several great
breaches were made in the wall, one of them eighty feet in length;
and the moat had in many places been filled up with the debris of the
wall and parapet. The soldiers were extricating themselves or helping
their comrades from the earth that had almost overwhelmed them; others
were standing gazing with a dazed air at the destruction that had been
wrought.

"We had better go to head-quarters," Havelock said, "and see what has
happened there."

They made their way with difficulty through the ruins that blocked the
streets. The movements of the earth still continued, and they had all
they could do to keep their feet. On reaching head-quarters they found
to their satisfaction that all was safe. The general and Macgregor had
both been occupied in writing despatches to Peshawur, and had rushed
out into the little courtyard of the house. The offices round it fell
in ruins at their feet, but the dwelling-house, although it swayed to
and fro, did not fall. Enquiries were at once set on foot, when it was
found that no lives had been lost among the garrison, although two
natives had been killed by the fall of their houses.

No time was lost. The whole of the garrison were told off into working
parties, and in half an hour were diligently at work repairing the wall
at the most important points. They worked until late at night, by
which time the breaches were scarped, the rubbish all cleared away, and
the ditches dug out again, while a parapet of gabions was erected along
the great breach. A parapet was erected on the remains of the bastion
which flanked the approach to the Cabul gate, that had been entirely
ruined, a trench had been dug, and a temporary parapet raised on every
bastion round the place. Never, probably, was so much work accomplished
by an equal number of men in the same time. Day after day the work was
continued, until by the end of the month the parapets were restored,
the breaches built up, the rampart increased in thickness, every
battery re-established, and the gates entrenched; and yet the troops
were in hourly anxiety that their work might be again destroyed, for
during the month succeeding the great earthquake fully a hundred shocks
were felt.

So extraordinary was the vigour with which the repairs had been
accomplished, that when Akbar Khan moved down with his forces early in
March and saw the formidable defences, he and his followers were unable
to understand it, and declared that the preservation of Jellalabad
from destruction must have been the result of witchcraft, for no other
town or village had escaped. While at work the garrison had been in
constant expectation of attack, for Akbar's army lay but a few miles
from the town. But the success of the two sorties had shown the Afghan
leader that he had very different foes to deal with from the dispirited
force that had been annihilated in the passes. Here were men ready
to work and to fight, while those at Cabul had done neither; and he
resolved to attempt to starve them out, hoping for the same success as
had attended a similar step at Cabul. He kept on, therefore, drawing
in more closely, harassing the foraging parties, and having occasional
skirmishes with the bodies of cavalry sent out to protect the
grass-cutters.

On the night of the 10th the enemy threw up sangars, small defences of
earth or stone, at many points round the town, and from behind them
opened a brisk fire. There was a report that behind these shelters
they were mining towards the walls, and a strong party of infantry
and cavalry, with two hundred of Broadfoot's sappers, commanded by
Colonel Dennie, were sent out. As they poured out through the gate,
Akbar advanced with his forces; but the guns on the ramparts received
them with a heavy fire, and although they came on several times as if
prepared to give battle, they eventually drew back, unable to withstand
the storm of shot and shrapnel. The working parties of sappers set to
work to destroy the sangars, and in doing so discovered that there was
no foundation for the report that the enemy were mining. When the work
was done, the troops began to fall back to the town, as ammunition was
beginning to run short. On seeing their retirement the Afghans again
advanced; but on our troops halting and facing them, they at once
turned and fled, having lost considerably by our artillery and musketry
fire. Dennie's force sustained no loss in killed, but Broadfoot was
wounded, and the loss of his services as engineer was serious.

Time passed quietly. The whole of the ground had been cleared of trees,
houses, and walls for some distance round the town, and the Afghans
were no longer able to crawl up under shelter and keep up a galling
fire on our men. Early in April a messenger brought in news that
Pollock had now received his reinforcements, and would advance in a day
or two, the Sepoys having recovered their health and spirits. His force
had been joined by the 9th Foot, the 3rd Dragoons, nine guns, and the
1st Native Cavalry.

On the 5th these started from Jumrood. Brigadier Wyld commanded the
advance guard, General M'Caskill the rear. Two columns of infantry were
to scale the height on either side of the pass, Major Davis in command
of that on the right, Colonel Moseley of that on the left. At three
o'clock in the morning they started. The heights on either side and the
pass were crowded with the enemy, who were always well informed of the
British movements by the natives in the town. They expected that the
force would all move along the road, and anticipated an easy success.
The two flanking parties moved off so quietly in the dim light of the
morning that they were not perceived by the enemy until they began to
scale the heights. Then a lively combat began, and the Afghans learned
for the first time that even among their own hills the British could
beat them.

The difficulties of the ascent were great, but the _moral_ of the
Sepoys was now completely restored, and they stormed the heights on
either side with great gallantry, driving the Afghans before them.
While this was going on, the main column in the valley had cleared
away a formidable barricade that had been erected at the mouth of the
pass, and which could not have been destroyed without much loss had the
Afghans maintained their position on the hills. Pollock now advanced,
and the Afghans, who had assembled in large numbers at the mouth of the
pass, bewildered at finding themselves outflanked, fell back, and the
column with its great convoy of animals moved forward.

The number of draught animals was very large, although the baggage of
the advancing force had been cut down to the narrowest dimensions, in
order that provisions and ammunition for the garrison at Jellalabad
might be taken on. The march occupied the greater part of the day.
The heat was great, and the troops suffered from thirst; but animated
by their success, they thought little of this, and before nightfall
bivouacked round Ali Musjid, whose garrison had evacuated the place
when they saw that the day had gone against them. All night long the
Afghans kept up a fire from among the hills, but did not attempt an
attack. The Sikhs had joined the main body, as the general, doubtful
as to their fidelity, had sent them by another pass. The general's
estimate of them was not a mistaken one. They were left to occupy Ali
Musjid and guard the pass, but shortly after the army had moved on they
quitted the position and marched away, seizing some of the baggage
animals on their way up, and, throwing their loads on the ground,
employing them to carry their own baggage.

The crushing and altogether unexpected defeat that the tribesmen had
suffered had its effect. They had found themselves beaten at their own
game and withdrew at once to their fastnesses, and Pollock's force
marched on without meeting with any serious opposition.




CHAPTER XVIII

THE ADVANCE ON CABUL


The garrison of Jellalabad found themselves pressed for provisions at
the end of March, and on the 1st of April made a gallant sortie, and
swept into the town a flock of five hundred sheep and goats. On the
5th Macgregor's spies brought in news from Akbar's camp that it was
reported there that Pollock had been beaten with great loss in the
Khyber Pass, and on the following morning Akbar's guns fired a royal
salute in honour of the supposed victory. Sale, now confident of the
fighting powers of his men, determined to make a great effort to break
up the blockade; as if Pollock had really been defeated it would be
some time before relief could come to them, and they could not hope
again to make such a capture as that which they had effected on the
1st. A council of war was held, and action was decided upon, as success
would not only free them from all apprehensions of being starved out,
but would effect a diversion in favour of Pollock.

The force was but a small one for the enterprise which they moved out
to undertake. The centre column, consisting of the 13th Regiment,
mustering five hundred bayonets, was under the command of Colonel
Dennie; the right, consisting of some three hundred and fifty men of
the two native regiments and a detachment of sappers, was commanded
by Captain Havelock; the left column was about the same strength,
under Lieutenant-colonel Monteith; the light field battery and a small
cavalry force were to support them. They advanced from the city at
daylight on the 7th. Akbar Khan drew up his force, six thousand strong,
before his camp, his right resting on a fort, and his left on the Cabul
river. Havelock's column commenced the fight by attacking the enemy's
left, while Dennie advanced to the assault of the fort, which was
vigorously defended. Dennie himself fell mortally wounded by an Afghan
ball, but his men captured the place in gallant style. A general attack
now took place on Akbar's camp. The artillery advanced at a gallop,
and poured their fire into the Afghan centre, the 13th and Colonel
Monteith's column pierced their right, while Havelock drove back their
left from the support afforded by the river.

The Afghans fought sturdily, their musketry keeping up a heavy fire,
and large bodies of horse again and again threatened Havelock's column,
while three guns from a hidden battery opened fire. The struggle,
however, was a short one. Their cannon were taken, every position held
by them was captured, and by seven o'clock they were in full retreat.
Two cavalry standards were taken, four guns lost by the Cabul and
Gundamuck forces were recaptured, a vast quantity of ordnance stores
destroyed, and the whole of the enemy's tents burnt. The loss of the
Afghans had been heavy, and several chiefs were among the fallen. The
loss of the victors was small indeed. Colonel Dennie and ten Sepoys
were killed, three officers and some fifty men wounded. A day or two
later Pollock's force reached Jellalabad, and the joy of both parties
was great.

Indeed, no stronger contrast can be found than that between the leading
and conduct of the force at Cabul and that at Jellalabad. The one
showed the British leader and the British soldier at their worst,
the other the British commander and men at their best. It may be
confidently affirmed that had Sale been in the place of Elphinstone,
with full power of action, the fight in the passes would never have
taken place, and within three days of the murder of Burnes the Afghan
host would have been a mob of fugitives, and Cabul would have been in
our hands. The British soldier is always best in the attack. He is
ready and eager to fight against any odds, but when kept in a state
of inaction, under a commander in whom he has lost all confidence, he
speedily deteriorates. Happily there are few examples in our military
history such as those of Cabul and Walcheren, where the British soldier
has been placed in such a position.

While Pollock was forcing the Khyber Pass the reign of Shah Soojah came
to a sudden end. After the departure of the British no hostility was
shown towards him by the Afghans, and he continued at the Bala Hissar
in the position of nominal sovereign of Afghanistan the Nawab having
willingly resigned the difficult and dangerous post and accepted that
of wuzeer. He himself had his troubles. Most restless and dangerous
of these Afghan leaders was Aneen-oollah-Khan, who had played fast
and loose with the British while secretly working against them. He
demanded the surrender to him of the hostages. The Nawab steadily
refused, and as threats of force were used against him, raised a body
of three thousand men for their protection. These, however, were
corrupted by Aneen, but the Nawab remained faithful to his trust. On
the 4th of April Shah Soojah left the Bala Hissar with his retinue to
go down to join Akbar Khan. An ambush was laid for him by one of the
sons of the Nawab. These poured in a volley, and Shah Soojah fell dead,
shot through the head. The Nawab was filled with horror at the deed,
and swore an oath never again to see his son beneath his roof or suffer
him to be named in his presence.

While Jellalabad was being besieged, the situation at Candahar had
been precarious. Ghuznee had been captured by the tribesmen after a
gallant defence, and its garrison had been massacred. Kelat-i-Ghilzye
was besieged, and without hope of succour. Candahar was surrounded by
the insurgent Dooranees, but these had been twice defeated by General
Nott. During one of these expeditions the city was in imminent danger,
for the enemy, gradually retiring, drew the sortie-party a considerable
distance from the walls, and then at night slipped away and attacked
the place. One of the gates was destroyed by fire, and for many hours
the issue of the contest was doubtful. At last, however, the assailants
were beaten off with very heavy loss. A force marching up to the relief
of the town, under General England, being very badly handled, were
opposed on their way up from Quettah, and fell back and remained there
until Nott sent a peremptory order for them to advance again.

He himself marched to meet them, and on the united force arriving at
Candahar, the town was placed beyond all risk of capture. Nott was
preparing to march on Cabul, while Pollock advanced on Jellalabad;
but, to the stupefaction and disappointment of all, an order arrived
from Calcutta for the abandonment of Candahar and the return of the
force to India. There had been a change of governors. Lord Ellenborough
had succeeded Lord Auckland, and immediately set to work to overthrow
the whole policy of his predecessor. Similar orders were sent to
Pollock. The latter, however, mindful of the honour of his country,
and the safety of the hostages and ladies, replied that, being almost
without carriage, it would be impossible for him to retire at once,
thus gaining time, which he utilized by entering into negotiations with
Akbar Khan for the release of their prisoners.

Both generals wisely kept the order they had received a secret from
the troops, who would have been profoundly disheartened. However, no
secret had been made as to the orders issued in Calcutta, and the
news soon spread all over India, and reached Pollock's camp, that
the army was to be withdrawn. Pollock did his best to throw doubts
upon the truth of the reports by marking out a new camp two miles in
advance, and arranging with the natives to bring in supplies there, so
as to give grounds for a belief that, so far from leaving the town,
he was preparing for an advance. In the meantime he had written an
urgent letter pointing out the evils and difficulties of an immediate
withdrawal, and the immense advantage that would arise by striking
a heavy blow before retiring, and so to some extent retrieving the
reputation of the British army.

The letter had its influence, and the governor wrote:

 _It would be desirable undoubtedly, before finally quitting
 Afghanistan, that you should have an opportunity of striking a blow at
 the enemy, and since circumstances seem to compel you to remain there
 till October, the governor-general earnestly hopes that you will be
 able to draw the enemy into a position in which you may strike such a
 blow effectually._

This was good news. Every effort was being made to collect carriage
cattle in Hindostan for the purpose of the withdrawal, and Pollock
determined to turn these to account. If there was carriage enough to
enable him to fall back upon Peshawur, there would be carriage enough
for him to advance on Cabul. In the meantime negotiations were going
on for the release of the captives. The married families had, on the
day of their arrival at Akbar's camp, been placed in a small fort with
Pottinger, Lawrence, and Mackenzie. Two days later they were taken down
to Jugduluk, where they found General Elphinstone, Brigadier Shelton,
and Captain Johnson, and thence travelled down to a fort, the property
of the father of Akbar's wife. The party consisted of nine ladies,
twenty officers and fourteen children; seventeen European soldiers, two
women and a child were confined in another part of the fort.

Here they remained three months. Two more officers were brought in,
and a month after their arrival two other survivors, Major Griffiths
and Captain Souter, were added to the party. On the day after Akbar's
defeat they were hastily taken away and carried to Tezeen, and thence
to a place called Zanda, far up in the hills. General Elphinstone had
been bed-ridden for some weeks, and was left behind at Tezeen, where
he died. Akbar Khan sent in his remains to Jellalabad. Civil war was
raging in Cabul. Shah Soojah's second son had succeeded him, but he
was altogether without power. Some of the chiefs supported him, others
opposed; but finally the Bala Hissar was stormed by Akbar, who was now
the most powerful chief in Afghanistan. Pollock was still harassed
by letters from Lord Ellenborough insisting upon his retiring; but
public opinion throughout India was so opposed to a course that would
bring the deepest disgrace upon the British power, that at last, in
August, he wrote to Nott saying that he must withdraw his force from
Afghanistan, but that if he chose he might take the route through
Ghuznee and Cabul. He similarly issued his orders for Pollock to
retire, but added that "you will be at liberty to first march to Cabul
to meet Nott."

Both had been preparing for the movement. Pollock had sent several
expeditions against hostile tribesmen, and had recovered one of the
captured guns. On the 20th of August he left Jellalabad with eight
thousand troops, and on the 23rd reached Gundamuck. The next day the
village was cleared of a strong body of the enemy. While concentrating
his troops there and waiting intelligence from Nott, the British
force remained at Gundamuck till the 7th of September. On the 1st,
Futteh Jung, who had succeeded his father, rode into camp. Akbar Khan
had stripped him of all power and all his wealth, and imprisoned him
in the Bala Hissar, from which he had now escaped, and with much
difficulty made his way to Pollock's camp to seek the protection of
the British government. On the 7th the first division of the army,
under the command of Sale, moved forward; the second division, under
General M'Caskill, marched on the following day. Sale found the hills
commanding the roads through the Jugduluk Pass occupied by large
bodies of the enemy, who opened a heavy fire. The guns replied, and
the infantry then in three columns dashed up the hills and drove the
Ghilzyes from them.

One strong body had taken refuge at an apparently inaccessible point,
but the British storming party scaled the height, and the enemy fled
without waiting for the assault at close quarters. Thus on the hills
where the Afghans had massacred Elphinstone's troops they were now
taught that, if well led, the British soldier could defeat them in a
position they had deemed impregnable. At Tezeen the second division
joined the first. The force halted for a day, and the Afghans,
believing that this betokened indecision, mustered their forces for
a final engagement. Akbar had, as he had threatened to do if they
advanced, sent off the captives to the Bamian Pass, with the intention
of selling them as slaves to the Turkomans.

On the 13th the two armies were face to face. The valley of Tezeen was
commanded on all sides by lofty hills, and these now swarmed with men.
The enemy's horse entered the valley, but the British squadrons charged
them, drove them in headlong flight, and cut down many. The infantry
climbed the hills on both sides under a terrible fire from the Afghan
guns. To these they made no reply, well knowing that their muskets
were no match for the long firearms of the enemy. As soon, however, as
they reached the summit, they fixed bayonets and charged with a mighty
cheer. Only a few of the enemy stood their ground, and fell, the rest
fled. All day firing was kept up, until at last the enemy occupying
the highest ridges were, in spite of a sturdy resistance, driven off,
fairly beaten on their own ground and in their own style of warfare.

Our troops fought with extraordinary bravery. They were animated by
a desire to wipe out the disgrace that had fallen on our arms, and
were maddened by the sight of the numerous skeletons of their comrades
in the Jugduluk. Akbar Khan saw that all was up, and fled, while the
tribesmen scattered to their homes, and the army marched forward
without opposition to Cabul.

In the meantime, Nott had been busy. On the 29th of May he inflicted a
decisive defeat upon the Dooranees outside the walls of Candahar. On
the 7th of August the army evacuated that city, and on the 27th arrived
at Mookoor. Up to this point no opposition whatever had been offered.
The inhabitants had been friendly, and supplies were obtained without
difficulty. But the Afghan governor of Ghuznee had raised all the
country, and had taken up a very strong position near the source of the
Turnuck.

On the 28th the forces met. The position of the enemy was unknown,
as a thick mist covered the country. The cavalry rode forward to
reconnoitre, cut up a party of Afghan infantry in the plain, and
pursuing them hotly came upon hills crowded by the enemy, who opened
a heavy fire. They fell back in an orderly manner, when a body of the
enemy's horse appeared on the hill above them. A squadron of native
cavalry charged them, but were cut up by the fire of a body of Afghan
foot who had hitherto been hidden. The enemy's horse poured down, and
the troopers, already suffering from the infantry fire, turned and
fled. The panic spread, and the whole of the cavalry were soon in
flight. Two British officers had been killed and three wounded, and
fifty-six men disabled. Nott, on hearing the loss, marched out with his
infantry, but on reaching the scene of the fight found that the enemy
had retired.

On the afternoon of the next day Nott, marching forward, came upon
a fort held by the enemy. Our artillery opened upon it with little
effect. The Afghan army, some ten thousand strong, had been watching
us, and now opened an artillery fire from the heights, and its foot men
moved forward to the attack; but as they neared us our infantry charged
with a cheer and they broke and fled. Two of their guns, and their
tents, magazines, and stores were captured. On the 5th of September
Nott encamped before Ghuznee, and began to prepare for the assault. The
enemy, however, were in no humour for fighting; the greater portion
of the tribesmen had scattered to their homes after their defeat.
The garrison lost heart altogether and evacuated the city, and the
governor set off with a few followers for Cabul. The next morning the
British entered the town without firing a shot. On the following day,
however, the governor returned with a large number of the tribesmen
who had just arrived, and on the 14th Nott attacked them. A hard
battle was fought, but it was indecisive. On the following morning the
enemy disappeared; they had received the news of the defeat of Akbar
at Tezeen. The column, however, was again harassed when the troops
advanced, but they cleared the way in good style. The tribesmen here
had been actively engaged in the Cabul insurrection, and twenty-six of
their forts were burned as punishment. On the 17th the army encamped
four miles from the city, and learned that Pollock had occupied Cabul
two days previously.

Angus Campbell had taken no part in the operations of that advance.
On the 26th of August news had arrived at Gundamuck by a messenger
from the moonshee, Mohun Lal, who had throughout kept the force at
Jellalabad well supplied with news of what was passing at Cabul; he
now sent to say that on the previous day Akbar had despatched all
the captives under an escort of three hundred horse to Bamian, and
that they were to be taken on to Khooloom, and there handed over to
the governor. Once there, it was certain that they would remain in
captivity among the tribes until death released them. As soon as he
heard the news Angus went to Macgregor.

"I am going to ask," he said, "if you will allow me to go on an
expedition on my own account. I was thinking that it was just possible
that the captives might be overtaken. It is probable that they will
halt some time at Bamian, and certainly we could come up to them there.
With so many women and children it will be impossible for the convoy
to move fast, and they may stay at Bamian until the result of our
operations here are known. You have already promised me that the part
taken by Sadut Khan shall be forgiven, seeing that he did his best to
persuade Akbar to give protection to the retreating army, and also
because he showed great kindness to me when I was in his hands. If you
can obtain permission from the general I will start at once in disguise
for his fort in the mountain. I cannot but think that he will aid me,
and I might, with four of his followers, who have come from Bamian,
and are personally well known to me, succeed in some way in rescuing
at least a few of the captives. Eldred Pottinger, Captain Boyd, and
Captain Johnson are all dear friends of mine, and I would willingly run
any risk in the endeavour to save them. Possibly, if we overtake the
party, we may in some way cause a delay which would enable any rescue
party sent off when you reach Cabul to get up in time."

"It is a brave offer, Campbell, but the enterprise seems to me an
almost desperate one. However, I don't think that I should be justified
in refusing it, and I am sure that if anyone could succeed, you will do
so. When will you start?"

"In ten minutes, sir, if you will furnish me with an authority to offer
a bribe to the officer in command of their escort."

"I will go and see the general at once. He is well aware, from the
report that I have made, of the kindness Sadut showed you, and of his
efforts to save our army. I have no doubt that the chief has fought
against us in the last battle, but that was only natural. I feel sure
that above all things Pollock would embrace any offer that promises
the slightest chance of rescuing the hostages, but the risk would be
terrible, Campbell."

"Of course there would be risk," Angus agreed, "but I do not see how
it would be exceptionally great. I have journeyed as an Afghan two or
three times already without detection, and I could just as well do so
again. At any rate, I am willing to undertake the enterprise. It would,
of course, be useful for me to take a considerable sum of money to win
over the guard; still more useful if the general would authorize me
to offer terms that would tempt the cupidity of the commander, as we
have always found that the Afghans are ready to do almost anything for
bribes."

"I will take you at once with me to the general. He is well acquainted
with the services you rendered Pottinger at Herat, and have rendered
the army ever since it began its march from the Indus, and he knows the
favourable report that has been sent in by Pottinger and Burnes."

Angus had, indeed, been introduced by Sir Robert Sale to General
Pollock on his arrival at Cabul. On reaching his tent they found him
for the moment unoccupied. He listened gravely to Macgregor's statement
of the offer that Angus had made.

"It is a noble proposal, Mr. Campbell," he said, in his usual kindly
and courteous way, "but the risk seems to me terrible, and should
anything happen to you, the service would be deprived of one of its
most promising and meritorious officers. At the same time, there seems
a fair possibility that you may succeed in rescuing one or more of the
captives. Of course it would be quite out of the question that any
of the ladies could escape. There would be a hot pursuit, and only
horsemen well mounted could hope to get off. However, I do not feel
justified in refusing any offer that affords a shadow of hope of saving
such men as Pottinger, and will do all that Mr. Macgregor suggests to
facilitate your operations. You will doubtless pass through Cabul, and
I will at once write a letter to Mohun Lal, requesting him to give you
authority, in his name as well as mine, for payment to the leader of
the prisoners' escort of any sum in reason. At present native opinion
is strong that we shall not be able to force the passes, and the name
of the moonshee may have greater effect than any promise on my part;
but at the same time, until you can get into communication with the
captives and learn something of the officer and his disposition,
it would be madness to attempt to bribe him. The difficulties of
the journey appear to me to be great, but not insuperable. The real
difficulty will only begin when you overtake the captives' escort."

"I feel that, sir, but I rely greatly upon the men I hope to obtain
from Sadut. Although not of his tribe, they have attached themselves
most strongly to him. They are strong, resolute men, and as one of them
was a petty chief near Bamian, he may be able to gather a few others
to aid me. I shall, of course, be very glad to have authority to offer
a bribe to the officer in command of the party, but I rely chiefly
upon these men and my own efforts, at any rate as far as Pottinger
is concerned. Captains Boyd and Johnson can hardly leave their
families. Possibly, by the aid of these men, I may be able to collect
a sufficient number of fighting men to make a sudden attack upon the
escort, and to carry off all the captives to some hiding-place among
the hills, and there keep them until you send on a force to bring them
in. Of course I must be entirely guided by circumstances, but it is
impossible for me to have any fixed plan until I see how matters stand."

"I can quite see that, Mr. Campbell, and that, greatly as you may
desire to rescue the whole party, it is Eldred Pottinger who is the
first object of your expedition."

"That is so, colonel. He was most kind to me in Herat, and it is to
him I owe my present position; therefore he is my first object. If
I can free him it will be a great step gained towards rescuing the
others. I feel sure that he would not think for a moment of leaving
his companions to their fate. But his name as the defender of Herat is
known to every Afghan, and he would be able to bring a great influence
to bear upon the tribesmen round Bamian, whose interests must lie quite
as much with Herat as with Cabul."

The general nodded approvingly.

"I see that you have thought matters over well. If you will call here
again in half an hour the letter for the moonshee shall be ready for
you, and a thousand pounds in gold."

At the appointed time Angus called upon the general, and received the
money and letter; then returning to his own tent, he rode out with
Azim. When fairly away from the camp they dismounted and put on their
Afghan disguises. They had brought an orderly with them, who took back
the clothes they had discarded and Angus's sword to Macgregor's tent,
he having undertaken to have them brought up to Cabul with his own
baggage. They had no difficulty as to the way, as the path they had
followed with Sadut had come down close to Gundamuck. They had little
fear of being interfered with on the road. The Afghans would have
gathered in the passes, and should they meet any they would only have
to say that their village near Gundamuck had been burnt by the British,
and they were now on their way to join Sadut and fight under his orders.

Although they saw several parties in the distance making their way
towards the pass, they did not encounter any within speaking distance,
and just at sunset reached Sadut's fort.

They had passed through the village unnoticed. Tribesmen were
frequently coming and going, and there was nothing to distinguish
them from others. They dismounted in front of the fort. A man was
sitting at the top of a ladder, and Angus held up his hand to him, and
Hassan--for it was the man who had twice captured him--at once waved
his hand in welcome, and stood up.

"You have come willingly this time," he said with a smile, as Angus
reached him. "Of course you wish to see Sadut Khan. He is within. It is
lucky that you have arrived to-day, for to-morrow he sets out."

Sadut greeted him with pleasure mingled with surprise.

"I did not expect to see you here, my friend."

"No, I suppose not, chief; but I am on a mission with which I am sure
you will sympathize, and in which I hope you will aid me, so far as to
spare me Hassan and his four men."

"What is its nature?" the chief asked. "I know that you would not come
and offer me English money to abstain from fighting again."

"I should not think of such a thing, Sadut. I know that you are a fair
and open enemy, and I think the better of you for fighting for your
country. I may say that General Pollock has been informed of your
kindness to me, and that you did your utmost to make Akbar keep his
word to grant protection to the retiring army, and I can assure you
that, in any event, no harm will happen to you or yours. I will tell
you what I have come for. Do you know that all the hostages, ladies
and children, have been sent away by Akbar from Cabul, that they are
to be taken over the Bamian Pass to Khooloom, and handed over to the
governor there, and that, doubtless, they will be sold as slaves to the
Turkomans?"

"I had not heard it," Sadut said angrily. "It is a disgrace to us. They
were delivered up trusting to our word and honour, and it is a foul
deed of Akbar to harm them in any way after taking his oath for their
protection. It is infamous! infamous!" and he walked up and down the
room in fierce indignation. "What should we say," he burst out, "if
the families of Dost Mahomed and Akbar himself were to be sold by your
people as slaves to some barbarous race? Could we complain if, when the
news of this treatment of the hostages becomes known in India, Dost
Mahomed's family should be treated in a similar way?" Then he stopped
abruptly. "What is it that you have come to ask of me? The thing is
done, and cannot be undone. Akbar and I are ill friends now, for I have
bearded him in the council and denounced his conduct. Certainly I have
no influence that could assist you. I am an Afghan, and am pledged
to join the force that will oppose the march of your troops up the
passes, and I am a man of my word. But even were I free to help you,
I could be of little assistance. I have here not more than thirty or
forty fighting men, and I doubt if even these would obey me on such an
enterprise. I might ride to my own fort and summon the Momunds, whom I
have so far kept quiet; but the enterprise would be a desperate one,
we should set all the other tribes against us, and they would not risk
destruction merely for the sake of rescuing a few white men and women.
Their sympathies are all with the tribes round Cabul, and they share in
their hatred of the infidel invaders. It would be as much as I could do
to keep them quiet, and certainly I should fail if I called upon them
to embark on such an enterprise."

"I have no intention of asking it of you, chief. I am going myself to
see what can be done to save my friends, and have come to ask you to
allow Hassan and his men to go with me. They are from Bamian, and at
Bamian it is likely that the captives will be kept for some time. I
should, of course, pay them well for their aid."

"You can take them," the chief said at once. "They are good men and
faithful to me, and I rely upon them as I could not do on any of my
own tribesmen. I will call them in at once."

Hassan and his four men entered the room a minute later.

"Hassan," Sadut said, "you and your men have proved yourselves true
and faithful followers from the day when you left your homes to carry
me over the passes, although you all thought that there was no hope
of our getting through. You have fought by my side in Kohistan; you
twice at my orders carried off my friend here. He appreciates the
service you did him, and is in sore need of five men upon whom he can
rely to the utmost. He has come to ask me to let you go with him. A
sore disgrace has fallen upon our nation. Akbar Khan has sent the men
who placed themselves in his hands as hostages, and the women whom he
swore to protect, over the Hindoo Koosh to be sold as slaves to the
Usbegs. My word has been given to fight against the army of Gundamuck
if it attempts to ascend the passes, and I at least will keep faith.
This British officer is going to attempt to free some of the captives.
How he will do so I know not, but my best wishes will go with him. He
thinks it likely that the escort of the prisoners will halt for some
little time at Bamian, and you more than any others might therefore be
able to help. I do not order you to go, but I ask you to do so. It is a
good work, and concerns the honour of every Afghan."

"And moreover," Angus said, "I will pay a thousand rupees to you, and
five hundred to each of your followers. I will hand them over to you at
once, and if we are successful I will pay you as much more."

The sum was a huge one in their eyes. It would suffice to settle them
in comfort for the rest of their lives. Hassan looked at his men,
and saw by the expression of their faces that they were more than
willing to accept the offer. He held out his hand to Angus, "We are
your servants," he said, "and will serve you truly, and if needs be,
lay down our lives for you, not only for the sake of the money you
offer us, but because Sadut Khan has told us that for the honour of
the nation these people ought to be released. We have been comrades in
danger before, and were nigh dead when you rescued us when buried in
the snow. I see not how this enterprise can be carried out; but we will
do what you tell us, and men cannot do more. When do we start?"

"Every hour is of consequence," Angus replied. "Can you find your way
across the mountains in the dark? if so, we will start at once."

"I certainly can find the way."

"You must all have a meal first," Sadut said. "Besides, you will need
horses. They shall be brought in and got ready for you in an hour.
See that the English officer's horses have a good feed, and that his
servant eats with you. The food will be ready in half an hour."

No time was lost, and in an hour and a half after the arrival of Angus
at the fort the party set out. Fortunately the moon was nearly full,
and Hassan had so frequently gone down to Cabul from the fort that he
had no difficulty whatever in following the track. This in many places
was so steep that all had to dismount and lead their horses down.
However, they reached Cabul an hour before sunrise, and all lay down in
an empty hut for three or four hours' sleep.

Then Angus, with Hassan and three of his men, entered the town, leaving
Azim and the other man to look after the horses. As there were numbers
of tribesmen in the streets, they attracted no attention whatever.
Proceeding to the house of the moonshee, Angus enquired if Mohun Lal
was in.

"He is busy. He does not grant audiences till ten o'clock."

Angus moved away and returned at half-past nine. Already five or six
persons were waiting to see the moonshee, and by ten the number had
considerably increased. It was eleven before Angus's turn arrived. The
moonshee was alone. Angus took out his letter and handed it to him.
He knew Mohun Lal well, having often taken communications to him from
Burnes.

The Afghan read the letter, and looked up in surprise.

"You are well disguised indeed, sahib," he said, rising, "for, often
as I have seen you before, I did not recognize you in the slightest,
but thought it was, as usual, an Afghan peasant with complaints to make
against plunderers. So you have undertaken the dangerous mission of
endeavouring to rescue some of the prisoners. Truly you English have
courage thus to thrust yourself into the midst of enemies, and on such
a mission. However, I will do what I can to help you. I do not say
that it is altogether hopeless, for I know my man; the commander of
the escort is Saleh Mahomed. He is an adventurer, and has served under
many masters. He was at one time a subaltern in one of your native
regiments, but deserted with his men to Dost Mahomed just before the
fight at Bamian. Such a man might be bought over, but not cheaply."

"General Pollock said he left the sum to be offered to him entirely to
you."

Mohun Lal thought for some time, and then said:

"I should say that a pension of a thousand rupees a month, and a
present of thirty thousand would tempt him as much as a larger sum.
It would, I think, be best for you to disguise yourself now as a
Cashmerian. You know Syud Moorteza?"

"I know him well," Angus said; "he helped Captain Johnson to collect
grain from the villages."

"It would be as well for you to use his name. As an Afghan, Saleh
might doubt you. Altogether, it would be more likely that a man who
may be considered a neutral should be employed on such a mission, and
the offer to sell goods would make an opening. Of course you could
take the dress you now wear with you in case of necessity. It would
be too dangerous for me to give you a letter, for if Saleh, when you
opened the subject to him, at once ordered you to be arrested, it would
certainly be found on you, and would cost me my life. You will require
to take a small escort with you, or you might be robbed at the first
place you come to."

"I have five men with me," Angus replied. "They come from Bamian; one
of them is a petty chief there, and might, if I find that Saleh cannot
be approached, persuade or bribe some of the people there to aid."

"I fear you would not succeed in that way. Saleh had, I believe, two
hundred and fifty men with him. I suppose you will start at once?"

"Our horses are outside the town, and we shall mount as soon as I
return to them."

"I wish you good fortune. There are many Afghans who feel deeply
the disgrace Akbar has brought upon himself, and upon all of us, by
breaking his plighted word."

Taking leave of the moonshee, Angus joined his companions, and after
having bought in the bazaar a costume suitable for a trader from
Cashmere, and two bales of goods from that country, left the city.




CHAPTER XIX

THE BRITISH CAPTIVES


"Why are you going as a Cashmerian?" Hassan asked. "I thought that you
were going in the disguise that you now have on."

"I had intended to, Hassan; but Mohun Lal suggested that as a trader I
should have more chance of going among the escort than as an Afghan,
and I see that this would be so. And, moreover, as Afghans can enter
into fellowship with the men of the escort better than I can, and as
you come from Bamian, no doubt would arise as to the truth of your
story, namely that, having been absent for more than two years from
home, you were anxious to get home, and that as this trader had offered
you money to serve as his escort it was a good opportunity for you to
return."

Hassan nodded. "That makes a good story of it, certainly."

The change of disguise was made, two ponies were purchased to carry the
bales of goods and provisions for the journey, and they then started.
In buying his goods Angus had only purchased two costly shawls, which
he intended as a present for Saleh, or, if he failed with him, for one
of the officers under him. With this exception, the bales were filled
with trifles such as might tempt the soldiers, and with stuffs which
would, he was sure, be very welcome to the ladies, who must, naturally,
be in a sore plight for garments, as what baggage they had started
with must have been lost in the passes, and they could have had little
opportunity of replenishing their wardrobe during their captivity.

They travelled rapidly, halting only for a few hours when it was
necessary to give their horses a rest. As the ladies were carried in
litters, and there was no reason why they should be hurried on their
journey, Angus knew that he must be gaining fast upon the captives and
their escort, and indeed he reached Bamian only a few hours after them.

He put up at a little khan, while Hassan and his men went off to their
village to see the families from whom they had been so long separated.
Hassan found his wife in undisturbed possession of the little fort, and
there was great joy in the village when it was found that he and his
men had returned with funds that would enable them to pass the coming
winter in comfort, and largely to increase their stock of animals. That
evening two or three sheep were killed, and a general feast was held
in honour of the return of the chief and his followers. As nothing was
talked of in the little town but the arrival of the British captives,
Angus had no difficulty in learning that these had been lodged in a
little fort close to the place. He did not attempt to open his bales of
goods, although several of the people came to him to ask him to do so,
for so few traders had visited the place since the troubles began, that
the stores had long been empty. There had, too, been a good deal of
plundering since the British force there had retired. Angus was obliged
to explain that he had only brought a few trifles with him, as his
purpose was to buy Turkoman carpets and other goods at Khooloom, and
that he had sold off almost all the stock he had brought from Cashmere
at Cabul.

Leaving Azim at the khan to see that his goods were not stolen, he
strolled out. The place was full of the men of the escort, who showed
much discontent on finding that neither fruit nor any other of the
little luxuries to which they were accustomed could be bought at
Bamian. Angus had no difficulty in entering into conversation with
some of them. He had brought with him a considerable quantity of good
tobacco, and when he produced a pouch and invited them to fill their
pipes he at once won their good-will.

"How quickly have you come from Cabul? Was there any news when you left
there?"

"We have travelled fast," he said. "You have had three days' start of
us, and I arrived here this afternoon. No, there was no news. They say
that the infidels are halting at Gundamuck. The chiefs are gathering in
the passes with all their forces, but have not yet moved."

"I should have thought that they would have had enough of our passes;
they will meet with the same fate as those who tried to go down them."

"It should be so," Angus replied. "Who can withstand your people when
they are fighting among your own hills? You must have travelled slowly,
since we gained three days upon you."

"We made very short journeys," the man said. "You see, we were
encumbered with these women and children, for whom it must have been
rough work, for the nights are already cold. I shall be glad when we
get to Khooloom and hand them over to the governor there. But I will
say for them that they have borne up bravely. I can tell you that we
are all disgusted at having to be making this journey with them instead
of taking our share of the spoil that will be gathered in the passes."

"Yes, it must be annoying to brave men to be thus wasting their time
when great things are being done, to say nothing of losing their share
of the booty to be gathered. Have you a good commander?"

"Yes, we have no cause to grumble on that account. Saleh Mahomed is a
bold soldier and a cheerful fellow, is not unduly harsh, and as long
as we keep our arms in good order, and obey his orders, he asks no
questions when one of us comes in with a sheep fastened to his saddle.
But there has been no chance of getting anything to help out our
rations, for the two or three little villages we have passed since we
left the valley are for the most part deserted. There are women there,
but the men have not yet come down from the hills with the flocks, and
none of us have tasted meat since we started. Saleh Mahomed is a man
who has travelled much and seen many things. He was an officer in the
English army, but he would not fight against us, and two years ago,
when Dost Mahomed with his army came here, he went over to him with
his company of Sepoys. He was not a chief, but was a tribesman near
the frontier. There are many of them, they say, in the service of the
infidels; and he had done well for himself."

"I suppose the captive women must be in want of warm clothes. I have
not a large stock of goods, but among them are several warm robes,
which I would sell cheaply to them, for I wish to clear away my
remaining stock, as I intend to buy Turkoman carpets at Khooloom and
Balkh; and besides these I have some stuff which doubtless the women
here would buy to make garments for the children. Think you that Saleh
would let me traffic with them?"

"That I could not say; but if you have anything in your pack that would
please him he might perhaps let you do so. You seem a good fellow, if
you like I will take you to him to-morrow morning."

"Thank you for your offer. When I meet you I will have a pound of good
tobacco, which I shall beg you to accept."

"I will be here. I shall be one of the guards to-night round the fort,
but shall be free in the morning."

"Does Saleh Mahomed sleep there?"

"No, it is a miserable and dirty place. He lodges at the house of the
headman there."

Early in the morning Hassan came down to the khan. "Now, sahib, you
have only to tell us what you want us to do, and you can rely upon us."

"For the present there is nothing. I am going to see Saleh Mahomed
this morning, and try to get permission to sell some of my goods to
the captives. I may then be able to learn something of his disposition
towards them, and how he behaved to them during the journey. It is
important that I should know this before giving him the message from
the moonshee."

"It would be well to do so, master; but from what I hear the moonshee
has been negotiating with many of the chiefs, who are willing enough
to take his money, but who do not carry out their part of the bargain.
However, I have not heard that any of them have denounced him. He is
always considered to be the chief agent of the English, but as he
spends English gold freely, and as it is well to have some one in Cabul
through whom negotiations could be entered into with them, no one
interferes with him."

"The only thing that you can do for the present is to go round among
your friends, talk to them about the captives, and say that it is a
disgrace that they should be sent as captives among the Usbegs after
having received promises of protection, and having willingly submitted
themselves as hostages. Of course you will do it carefully; but if you
can create a feeling in their favour, and make them afterwards win over
a portion of the escort, something might be done. Of course you can
say, and truly, that Sadut Khan, Dost Mahomed's nephew by marriage, is
most indignant at this breach of faith, and that you believe that many
other chiefs share his feeling."

"I will set about it at once. The tribesmen here have not the same
animosity against the English as those at Cabul. The English troops
when they were here behaved well; they took no man's goods without
payment, and the tribesmen got better prices for their sheep and
cattle than they had ever got before. They care little who rules at
Cabul, and it is nothing to them whether it is the Barukzyes or a
Dooranee."

The next morning Angus met the Afghan soldier. "Here is the tobacco I
promised you; it is good stuff."

"If it is like that you gave me yesterday, I shall be very content.
Now, come with me to Saleh; he is a good fellow if you find him in the
humour." The officer was alone when they entered. "Saleh Mahomed,"
the soldier said, "this is a trader from Cashmere, Syud Moorteza; he
will tell you his business. He seems to be a good fellow, and has some
excellent tobacco."

Having thus introduced Angus he left the room.

"What is it that you want with me?" Saleh asked in Persian. Angus
replied in the same language, "I am a trader, my lord, and wish to get
rid of some of the wares I am carrying. They are but few, as I am going
north to purchase and not to sell. I would willingly rid myself of a
part of them. Among them are warm dresses and stuffs. I am told that
the persons in your charge are but thinly clad, and I doubt not that
they would willingly buy these goods of me."

The Afghan laughed. "They would willingly have them, no doubt; but as
to buying, they are altogether without money. Those who were in charge
of them saw to that before they were handed over to me."

"I should not mind that, my lord. I have had dealings with Englishmen
who have come up to Cashmere, and they generally take a store of shawls
and other things back with them to India. We always find that they are
true to their word, and we take their orders as willingly as gold--more
so, indeed, because the shroffs in India take them anywhere, and it
saves our having to send money there for the purchase of goods in
India. Thus, then, if they gave me orders on their people at Calcutta
or Bombay, I would more willingly accept them than gold, which is a
dangerous commodity to carry."

"But you say that you are going to purchase goods."

"That is so, my lord, but I do not carry money to do so. I pay for them
with orders upon a merchant at Herat to whom I am well-known, and who
acts as my agent, and buys for me such goods as I require from Persia.
I have not come empty-handed to you, my lord. It is right that if you
do me the favour of allowing me to trade with your prisoners, you
should share in the benefit. I have with me here a cashmere shawl. I do
not say that it is worthy of your acceptance, but it is handsome and of
the best wool, and will make a warm girdle."

Saleh was fond of finery. "Let me look at it," he said.

Angus undid the parcel and held the shawl up, and closely watched the
Afghan as he examined it. He saw that he was pleased with it. However,
the chief said, "I say not that it is not a good shawl, but it is not
of the best quality. I have been at Srinagar."

"'Tis not of the best, my lord--I would not try to deceive one like
yourself--but it is the best I have, and I can hardly hope to make more
than its value from these people."

"It is worth about two hundred rupees," Saleh said.

"Your lordship is not to be deceived, that is the very sum I gave for
it; but it is worth much more here."

"You seem to be an honest man," Saleh said, throwing the shawl down
on the divan from which he had risen. "And in truth I should be well
content that the prisoners were better supplied with garments in the
cold weather that is setting in. I am ordered to conduct them safely
to Khooloom, but nought was said against my providing them with such
comforts on the way as they could obtain. To-day I am busy; I have
to see that the men are well quartered and fed. To-morrow if you come
here with your goods I will myself take you to the place where they are
confined; but mind that no word is said to them save concerning your
merchandise."

"What words should I say, my lord? But doubtless one of your men will
be present and see that I confine myself to my business."

"Then come at this hour to-morrow."

Angus bowed deeply and then left, delighted that he had obtained
permission to see the captives.

That day the prisoners were taken to another fort, Saleh being moved by
their complaints of the dirt and want of accommodation in the little
fort in which they were crowded. The place was but a little better than
the one they had left, but there was somewhat more room.

Hassan came to Angus in the evening. "I have seen many of my friends,"
he said, "and have spoken as you told me. They are indignant. I
told them that Dost Mahomed and his family, and that of Akbar, are
honourably treated in India, and are allowed a large income by the
government there, and live with every comfort and luxury, and it is a
disgrace to our nation that such treatment should be meted out to the
officers who are hostages, and the ladies and their families. I do not
say that they will be disposed to hazard their own safety by taking
any active measures, but if the soldiers were to show any disposition
favourable to the captives, they would assuredly take no hostile steps
against them."

"I have strong hopes that I may succeed with Saleh. He has taken a
bribe from me to permit me to sell goods to the prisoners, and he may
be willing to take a vastly greater one to release them."

"My men have been going about among the soldiers, sahib. They are
discontented at this journey they have taken, and at the prospect of
a still farther one, and if their commander gave them the order to
return, they would not, I think, hesitate to obey."

"Let your men continue at that work, but let them be careful not to
appear to be too warmly interested. Let them avoid at present all
mention of captives, and simply inflame the men's minds by talking of
the hardships of their being sent on such a journey when so much booty
is likely to be picked up in the passes. It is not likely that if
Saleh orders them to proceed on their journey they will refuse to do
so, but if he learns from his officers that the men would gladly obey
him if he ordered them to return, it may help him to decide to accept
the offer I have to make him. I shall put off doing so till the last
moment, because at any time news may come that Pollock and Nott are
both beating back all opposition and advancing on Cabul, and in that
case he may see that his interest lies in siding with them rather than
with Akbar."

In the morning Angus rode with Saleh to the fort, Azim following with
the pony carrying the bales of goods. Two men stood as sentries on the
platform on the top of the plain, half a dozen others were posted round
it. The officer in charge came out.

"Have you anything to report, Suleiman?"

"No, captain, except that the prisoners complain that this place is
little better than the last they were confined in."

"They are particular, these ladies and gentlemen," Saleh said with a
laugh. "The place might be better, no doubt, but they will be lucky if
they do not find themselves very much worse lodged when they get among
the Usbegs."

"Major Pottinger was asking, captain, that a few blankets should be
given them for the use of the women and children."

"We will see about it. However, this trader here has some warm robes to
sell, and they may just as well pay for the things themselves as that
I should put my hand into my pocket, for my instructions said nothing
about buying things of this sort for them; and from the manner in
which Prince Akbar gave me my orders, I should say that the more they
suffered the better he would be pleased. However, I am sorry for them,
and have given permission to this Cashmerian to see them and try to
sell his goods to them."

The officer looked doubtful. "I do not think there is a rupee among
them."

"No, but the trader has faith that if they give him notes for his
goods, their people will assuredly cash them."

"He must be a very confiding fellow," the officer said.

"No; by what he says the shroffs of all the large cities in India are
always ready to take the notes of English officers, and that he himself
has done so in Cashmere.

"At any rate you can take him up to their apartments, but remain in the
room while he bargains with them. I do not mind his carrying on his
trade, but see that he in no way communicates with them save in the
matter of his business."

Saleh went up with Angus, followed by the officer and Azim, who was
assisted by the soldiers to carry up the goods. A sentry was sitting
before the door at the top of the stairs with his musket across his
knee. As Saleh came up, he rose and took a key hanging on a nail on the
wall beside him and opened the door.

"I hear that you are still not content with your lodging, Captain
Johnson," Saleh said as he entered. "Well, what would you have? These
towers are all alike, and do not come up to our ideas of comfort in
Cabul; and as glass is scarcely known in Bamian, no doubt you feel it
cold at night."

[Illustration: ANGUS SHOWS HIS GOODS TO THE PRISONERS.]

"If we had a few blankets to hang across the windows the ladies would
not feel it so much, Saleh."

"That is so; and as I am anxious that they should not, while under my
charge, feel greater discomfort than necessary, I have permitted this
trader, Syud Moorteza, to enter. He has, he tells me, some warm robes
and other things which he is ready to sell, and as I told him that
before you came into my charge all your money had been taken away, he
is ready to take your notes upon a banker at Calcutta or Bombay in
payment."

Captain Johnson knew the Cashmerian, as he had rendered invaluable
assistance in obtaining grain. Angus, who was acquainted with him,
had the more willingly adopted his name because the man was about his
own height and build, and there was even some resemblance in feature.
Captain Johnson therefore looked with interest at the trader, who was
standing a little behind Saleh. For a moment he seemed puzzled but
Angus had his hand on his chin and suddenly moved two fingers across
his lips and very slightly shook his head. Johnson understood the
gesture, and replied to Saleh: "The man is right; he may be sure that
whatever happens to us our friends will see that he is paid for any
goods we may buy of him. We will write a letter in Persian, which you
can read to our friends, saying that this man has trusted us and that
our orders are to be honoured."

The ladies, who were in the next room, were called in. The Afghan
commander, who had nothing to do, remained with his officer, being
interested in the contents of the trader's bales. Azim opened them,
and spread the articles out on the floor for inspection. Angus was
greatly concerned at the appearance of the ladies, to all of whom
he was known. His disguise, however, had so completely changed his
appearance that none of them recognized him. His face was darkened,
his eyebrows and hair had been stained black, and by the assistance of
some false hair the latter was arranged in the fashion worn by the man
he represented. Syud Moorteza was of the Hindoo religion, and Angus had
imitated his caste marks on the forehead, which alone greatly altered
his appearance. But the ladies scarcely looked at him. Their delight at
seeing the warm robes and woollen cloths was great indeed. Here was a
prospect that their sufferings from cold would be alleviated, and that
their children could now be warmly clad.

Among the smaller articles in his bale Angus included a good supply of
needles and thread, buttons, and other small necessaries. The ladies
saw at once that from the soft woolen cloths they would be able to make
an abundance of warm clothing for the children. Angus expatiated after
the manner of a trader on the quality of his goods. Holding up a warm
robe to Captain Johnson, he said: "This would suit you, my lord; it
will keep you warm in the coldest night."

"You have not more than enough for the ladies," Captain Johnson said.
"If there is anything over after they have made their purchases, we
shall be glad to take the rest of your cloth. We can wind it round us."

"But feel the quality of this robe, my lord," Angus urged, with a wink
that was understood by the officer, who at once took hold of it. As
he did so Angus slipped a note, which he had folded to the smallest
possible dimensions, into his hands.

"Yes, it is good material," he said quietly; "but, as I have just said,
these must be for the ladies." And he turned away as if unwilling to be
tempted, and presently sauntered into the next room. In order to keep
up his character Angus asked fully five times the proper value for his
goods. But the captives had no thought of bargaining; for these goods
would be of the greatest comfort to themselves and their children, as
coverings for the night, and as wraps during the passage of the passes,
for in addition to the clothes and cloth, there were silk mufflers
for the neck, and warm jackets lined with astrakhan fur. Nor were the
needles and thread less prized. Their clothes and those of the children
were in rags, and they would be most useful for mending, as well as
the making of new clothes. Some of them almost cried with joy at the
thought of the comfort that this would be to their little ones.

In a few minutes the greater portion of the contents of the bales was
disposed of. "The best way," Pottinger said, "will be for Lawrence,
Mackenzie, and myself, as the three political officers, to give this
man an order signed by the three of us on our agent at Calcutta, and
I will write an open letter to accompany it, authorizing any British
officer or banker to cash the note when it is presented, and to send it
on to my agent. The man has done us an inestimable service, and it will
facilitate his getting the money. Where are you thinking of cashing
this?" he asked.

"At Herat."

"Then I will also give you a note to a trader there. He has a shop
in the great bazaar, and is a friend of mine. He has relations with
business men in India, and will, I am sure, cash it for you at once
should you desire cash, or will furnish you in exchange with bills on
some merchant in Candahar." He then mentioned the trader's name.

"That will suit me well," Angus said. "I know the man by name, having
been myself at Herat. He is of good repute, and I am sure that he or
any other merchant having dealings in India would gladly cash the
order, as it would be far safer to send than money."

It was not until the purchases had all been made that Captain Johnson
re-entered the room, came and stood by Angus, asking a few questions
as to the goods; when the two Afghans were looking another way he
passed a note into the pretended merchant's hand. Presently he said:
"But we have no pen and ink to write this order?"

"I have them, sahib," Angus said, taking an ink-bottle and pen, such
as were always carried by traders, from his pocket, together with
several sheets of paper. The price of all the goods was added up; then
Pottinger wrote an order for the amount, which was signed by himself,
Lawrence, and Mackenzie. Then Johnson took Pottinger aside as if to
discuss the terms of the letters.

"That man is not Syud Moorteza at all," he said. "Don't turn round and
look at him. He has given me a note, and I am answering it. Who do you
think it is?"

"I have been a little puzzled, not by his face, but by his voice. I
have it now--it is Angus Campbell."

"You have guessed right. He has come up by himself through the passes
to try and overtake us. He bears a message from Mohun Lal to Saleh,
saying that he shall be given a pension of a thousand rupees a month
and a present of thirty thousand if he will hand over the captives to
the British general when he reaches Cabul. He has asked my opinion as
to whether it would be safe to make the proposition to the man, or
whether he had better wait until news comes that Pollock has defeated
Akbar in the passes. I have told him that I have already sounded Saleh,
and that though he passed the matter off, I believe he is open to take
a bribe if he hears that Nott and Pollock are making their way up.
He says that if bad news comes--and I think it would then be useless
to approach Saleh--he will make an attempt with some men he has with
him to effect your escape, and also mine, and that of Mackenzie and
Lawrence. Boyd, of course, would not leave his wife and family, and it
would be impossible to take the women and children with us."

"Campbell is a splendid fellow!" Pottinger said. "He behaved
wonderfully well at Herat, and I was sure that in time he would make
a very fine officer. It is a noble thing, his undertaking such a
tremendous risk."

The letters were now written and handed to Angus. Saleh, however,
took them from his hands and read them, and then handed them back,
after assuring himself that there was nothing written but what had
been agreed upon. Then he and the officer went downstairs with Angus
and Azim, the latter carrying easily enough the one small bale that
sufficed for the goods unsold.

"You have made a nice sum out of this," Saleh said.

"I have had a long journey with my goods," Angus replied humbly; "but
they were well contented, and paid without bargaining the prices I
asked. I feel, my lord, that I am greatly indebted to you for the
opportunity. I have not money with me--we traders never carry cash,
and I shall have to wait many months before I receive the price of the
goods--nevertheless, my lord, I will willingly give you in token of my
gratitude another shawl equal to the last; I have brought with me only
two. And you can select any goods you like from those remaining. There
are many silk things among them, for they only bought such as were
needed for wear."

Saleh was well satisfied, and telling Angus that he might call round
in the evening with some of the silk embroidered scarfs, he allowed
him to return to the camp. Two days passed, and then a horseman rode
in with the news that Akbar had been defeated at Tezeen, but would
fight another battle, and, as he was being joined by many chiefs, would
doubtless overthrow the infidels. The news spread rapidly and caused
much excitement in the camp, which was heightened by the fact that the
man said that there was a report that Ghuznee had been captured by the
British force that was marching from Candahar.

Angus went in the evening and requested a private interview with Saleh.
As Johnson had told him in his note, the Afghan had already been
revolving in his mind whether he could not do better for himself by
halting at Bamian until he knew how affairs would turn out at Cabul.
Johnson, who had become very intimate with him on the journey, had said
casually that the British government would assuredly pay a large sum
for the return of the captives. He had taken no notice of the remark
at the time, but had thought a good deal of it. He knew that money had
been lavishly spent among the chiefs, and it seemed to him that he too
might have a share in the golden flood.

He was a shrewd man as well as an unscrupulous one. He had three times
before deserted his employers when better offers had been made to him,
and it seemed to him that he had it now in his power to procure a sum
that would make him rich for life. He had been told by his sub-officers
that there was a growing disaffection among the men, that many of them
openly grumbled at the prospect of the journey to Khooloom, and that
some of the Bamian petty chiefs had been going among them, and, they
believed, stirring up a feeling against the journey. He had from the
first entertained some suspicion of this Cashmerian trader. Why should
he not have bought a larger store of Indian goods to exchange with the
Turkomans?

His doubt as to the best course to pursue had been heightened at the
news that he had received that afternoon. What would happen if the
British again settled down at Cabul? They would doubtless send a
force to endeavour to rescue the captives. And although he might be
at Khooloom before they did so, his situation would then be a most
unpleasant one. Akbar, as a fugitive, could no longer pay him and
his troops; they would, of course, leave him, and he would not dare
to return to Cabul. He was thinking over these matters when Angus
was ushered in. The latter had already decided that he would for the
present maintain the character that he had assumed. If Saleh knew that
he was a British officer he would assuredly, if he remained faithful to
his charge, arrest him also; but as merely the agent of Mohun Lal, one
of the most influential men in Cabul, the Afghan would probably allow
him to depart unharmed, even if he refused the offered bribe.

"I have not come to you this evening to talk of merchandise, Saleh
Mahomed," Angus began. "I have come upon a more important matter. As
you know, the troops from Jellalabad have defeated Akbar, and are
making their way up through the passes. They will defeat him again if
he fights them. The troops from Candahar have reached Ghuznee, and
assuredly there is no force that can arrest their progress to Cabul.
I have only waited for this to speak openly to you. I am sent here by
Mohun Lal. He authorizes me to promise you, in his name and that of
General Pollock, a pension of a thousand rupees a month, and a gift of
thirty thousand rupees, if you will hold the prisoners here until a
British force arrives to carry them back to Cabul."

The Afghan showed no surprise. "I suspected," he said, "all along that
you had come here for some other motive than trade. What guarantee does
Mohun Lal offer that these terms shall be fulfilled?"

"It would not have been safe for him to have entrusted such a message
to paper," Angus said, "but he gives you his word."

"Words are no guarantee," Saleh said, "especially the word of a chief."

"I would suggest, Saleh Mahomed, that you have it in your power to
obtain a guarantee that even you will acknowledge to be a binding one.
You have in your hands three men whose names are known throughout
Afghanistan and through India as those of men of honour. You have
Major Pottinger, Captain Lawrence, and Mr. Mackenzie, all men whose
word would be accepted unhesitatingly to whatever promise they might
make. They and the other officers would, I am sure, give you a written
guarantee that the offer made by Mohun Lal shall be confirmed and
carried out by the government of India."

"What should I do with money without employment?"

"If you desire employment, I have no doubt that you would be granted,
in addition to the money payment, the command of a native regiment
raised among the Pathans of the lower hills."

"I will think the matter over," the Afghan said, and with a wave of the
hand dismissed Angus. But the latter had seen, by the expression of
Saleh's face when he mentioned the terms, that these were far higher
than he had himself ever thought of, and he had no doubt whatever that
they would be accepted. The first thing in the morning he received
a message from Saleh Mahomed requesting him to accompany him to the
tower. The Afghan, beyond the usual salute, was silent during the ride.
On dismounting Saleh told him to follow him. On entering the prisoners'
apartments the officer said: "You are aware that Prince Akbar's orders
are that I am to take you to Khooloom. I had certainly intended to do
so, but I have received news that leads me to doubt whether he may
be in a position to support you if I carry out the orders. Yesterday
afternoon I heard that he had been defeated at Tezeen. He will fight
again with a stronger force than before, still the issue is doubtful. I
may tell you that the messenger also brought to the fort news that the
force from Candahar had taken Ghuznee."

An exclamation of joy broke from the prisoners.

"Another thing has happened," the Afghan went on. "This trader last
night informed me that he really came here on a mission from Mohun
Lal. He promises me, in General Pollock's name, that if I release you
and carry you to Cabul I shall be granted a pension of a thousand
rupees a month and thirty thousand as a present. I know nothing of
General Pollock, and have no great faith in Mohun Lal, but seeing that
Akbar may be even now a fugitive and your two armies in Cabul, if you
gentlemen will swear by your God to make good to me what Syud Moorteza
states he is authorized to offer, I will hand you over to your own
people."

The offer was joyfully accepted. Angus was requested by Saleh to draw
out a bond to that effect in Persian, and this was signed by Pottinger,
Lawrence, Johnson, and Mackenzie. Another agreement was then drawn
up by Johnson, by which all the officers bound themselves to pay as
many months' pay and allowances, in accordance with their rank, as
should be necessary to carry out the terms of the agreement, thus
satisfying Saleh that, should the English general refuse to ratify the
first agreement, he would receive the money from them. To this all the
prisoners and the ladies signed their names, Brigadier Shelton heading
the list; while Lady Macnaghten and Mrs. Sturt, who were widows, bound
themselves in a codicil to pay such sums as might be demanded from them
by Major Pottinger and Captains Lawrence and Johnson.

"You are no longer my prisoner, sahibs," Saleh said when the two
documents were handed to him, and he on his part had given a bond to
perform his share of the conditions. "Now, I should like your counsel
as to how I had best proceed. I believe that my men will gladly obey
me in this matter, because they are discontented at being sent so
far away, and I feel sure that a very slight inducement on your part
to them will settle the matter. If I could offer them in your name a
gratuity of four months' pay when we arrive at Cabul, it would settle
matters."

To this the officers willingly agreed.

"I have been thinking over the affair all night," he went on. "Which,
think you, would be best--to travel straight for Cabul when you hear
that the British have arrived there, or to wait here? I hear that many
of the petty chiefs in the neighbourhood are indignant that Akbar
Khan should have broken all the promises he made, and have treated so
badly those who placed themselves under his protection, while at the
same time his father, together with his own family, are receiving most
honourable treatment in India. Doubtless you would rather go straight
down to Cabul, but we must remember that if defeated, Akbar with a very
large number of his followers may again fly by this route and make for
Khooloom, as he and Dost Mahomed did when the British first marched to
Cabul. Should they meet us on our way down they would assuredly attack
us, and their numbers might be so great that we should be overwhelmed.
On the other hand, if we stay here we can occupy the largest of these
little forts and set to work to strengthen it, and might then resist
any force Akbar could bring against us until the British troops arrive
to our assistance."

The officers were silent for a minute, and then Pottinger said: "What
do you think, Brigadier? This is a military matter."

"I should say the last proposition is the safest," Shelton replied.
"We may be sure that the moment Pollock reaches Cabul he will send
off a body of cavalry to rescue us. Akbar would have at best only
forty-eight hours' start, perhaps not half that, and he would scarcely
venture to stop here to undertake a siege. He will certainly have no
guns with him, and the three hundred men of our escort, with ten or
twelve of us to lead them, could be trusted to withstand any hurried
assault he might make upon us."

The others all agreed that this would be the safest plan.

"Very well," Saleh said. "I will go now and harangue my men, and in the
meantime you can prepare to move. I will select the largest and most
defensible of these forts. We will move quietly in there, and then I
will summon the Bamian chiefs, and proclaim that I have abandoned the
cause of Akbar, and now with my British allies summon them to invite
their men to join me, so that when an English force arrives here
they will be free from all molestation, and will receive presents in
accordance with the number of men they furnish."

So saying he left the room, and the joy of the captives broke out in
general congratulations among the men, and tears of joy from the women.
Pottinger, Johnson, and Boyd gathered round Angus and poured forth
their thanks to him. Nothing had hitherto been said to the ladies as
to the real character of the supposed trader, for it was felt that if
this enterprise failed the disappointment would to them be terrible. As
soon as they learned who he was and what he had done, they too crowded
round, and Angus was for a time quite confused with the expressions of
gratitude showered upon him.

"I see," Pottinger said, when the din of voices had quieted down, "that
you have not informed Saleh Mahomed of your real character."

"I thought it better not to do so. I really came from Mohun Lal, and if
he thought I had not done so, he might have doubted whether I had any
authority to make such a proposal; therefore, I thought it would be
well to keep up my present character to the end."

"Perhaps it is best so," Pottinger agreed. "These Afghans are always
suspicious, and a man who has several times betrayed his employers
would be more suspicious than other people. I quite agree with you that
it is best you should keep up your present character. I suppose Mohun
Lal really did give you the assurance about the ransom?"

"Yes, General Pollock told me that he would give any sum Mohun Lal
might think it desirable to offer, and that was the figure fixed upon
as being high enough to tempt Saleh, and yet not excessive for such a
service. Besides, he thought that he might ask more, in which case I
should of course have bargained with him."

"It is a sum that would tempt any Afghan chief," Pottinger said, "and
to a mere military adventurer like Saleh would appear prodigious.
Well, we will hear of your adventures afterwards. He may return at any
moment, and it might put him out of humour if he found that we were not
ready. Not, indeed, that there is much to do. Even the ladies will be
able to pack up their scanty belongings in a few minutes. There would,
in fact, be nothing at all to pack had it not been for the things they
bought of you. The next room is all in confusion, for every one of them
is hard at work making clothes for the children."

It was half an hour before Saleh Mahomed returned.

"All is well," he said; "the men did not hesitate for a moment. They
are delighted at the prospect of returning to Cabul, and declare they
will fight till the last if they are attacked. I set them to work at
once to clear out the largest of the forts here. The chief, when I told
him what it was required for, refused his consent, so I at once turned
him out, and have appointed another favourable to us in his place. We
will move there at once."

The news infused fresh strength into the ladies, several of whom were
suffering from sickness, and all from long-continued anxiety and the
hardships of the journey; they were able to proceed on foot to the
fort. Hassan was the first to come in with ten followers to give in his
adherence to the new order of things. Many others followed the example;
and as Angus was able to supply money, strong parties were soon at work
throwing up entrenchments round the tower. Pottinger, convinced that
audacity was the best policy, at once issued a proclamation calling
upon the people of the town and the chiefs of all the surrounding
villages to come in at once and pay their respects, and it was not long
before they began to arrive.

The next day still larger numbers were set to work, and by evening the
earthworks were so advanced that they were in a position to offer a
very strong resistance. Late that evening a friendly chief brought in
the news that General Pollock was within a day's march of Cabul, that
all resistance had ceased, and that Akbar had fled no one knew whither.

It was immediately decided that a start should be made for Cabul on
the following morning. It was evident that Akbar had not retired by
that route--had he done so he would have arrived before the news of his
flight--and that therefore the risk of meeting any strong force on the
road was very slight. They set out at eight o'clock in the morning.
Horses had been procured for the whole party; the officers took the
children before them, the ladies rode. That night all slept on the
rocks within shelter, but at midnight they were awakened by the arrival
of a horseman. He brought a letter from Sir Richmond Shakespere,
General Pollock's military secretary, saying that he was on the point
of starting with six hundred native horse for Bamian.

At daybreak the party were astir again, pressing their horses eagerly,
their sufferings all forgotten in the hope of speedily meeting their
friends. At noon a cloud of dust was seen to rise from the road far
ahead; then some straggling horsemen were made out, and behind them a
body of cavalry. It was still possible that this might be a body of the
enemy, and preparations were at once made for defence. The drums were
beat, a line formed, and muskets loaded. Soon, however, it could be
made out that an officer riding at the head of the party was in British
uniform, and in a few minutes Shakespere rode up, followed by his men.
The joy of the meeting was almost beyond words. A few days before a
hopeless captivity among wild tribesmen seemed to be their certain lot;
now they were among friends again. They learned from Sir Richmond that
General Sale himself was to set out at the head of a brigade to support
the advanced party.

The next morning they started again, and on the 20th met Sale's column.
That evening they passed near the camp of the Candahar force, and the
next day rode through Cabul on their way to Pollock's camp, where their
arrival excited unbounded delight, for it had generally been felt that
the victories that they had won would be incomplete indeed unless their
fellow countrymen and women had been rescued. General Pollock thanked
Angus publicly that evening for the service that he had rendered, and
the manner in which he had carried out the perilous scheme he had
volunteered to perform, and he received innumerable congratulations
from all the officers with whom he had shared in the defence of
Jellalabad.

The army remained but a few days at Cabul, for the winter was at hand.
It was at first proposed to destroy the Bala Hissar, but the idea was
given up, as it was represented that no ruler of Afghanistan would be
able to maintain his position unless he had that fortress to rely upon.
Instead of this the great bazaar, through which Macnaghten's body had
been carried in triumph, was destroyed, and in spite of the efforts of
their officers many of the troops entered the city and punished the
treachery of its inhabitants by sacking a considerable portion of it.
The united army then marched down the passes and retired to India.
Pollock's division met with no resistance whatever; that of Nott, which
followed it, was more than once attacked by large bands of plunderers.

The report that General Pollock had sent in to the Governor-general on
the day the captives reached the camp gave full credit to Angus for
the courage and devotion that he had shown, and stated that had he not
succeeded in bringing Saleh Mahomed over to our side, the latter would
probably have reached Khooloom with the captives before they could have
been overtaken, and in that case they might have been sent far away on
the approach of Sale's brigade and been lost for ever to their friends.
The consequence was that he was at once appointed political officer to
one of the Rajput states.

Henceforth his promotion was rapid. Six years later he went to England
on three years' leave. On the ship on which he sailed were four
officers of his acquaintance, some of whom were accompanied by their
wives. From several of these he received the most pressing invitations
to stay with them at their country houses. These he gladly accepted,
for except among military men who had returned home, he was without
friends. Feeling at a loss for employment after a life of such activity
as he had led, he threw up his leave at the end of the year, and took
back with him to India a wife, the daughter of a colonel who had sailed
with him from India.

At the end of another ten years he returned home for good. His pay
had been large. He had laid by a considerable sum before he first
went home, and this he had placed in the hands of the firm to whom
he had sent his money before leaving Teheran for Herat. It had been
well employed by them, and at the age of forty he returned home with a
considerable fortune, besides a pension, after twenty-three years of
service. He had been reluctant to quit his work, but his wife's health
had suffered from the climate. His three children had been sent home to
her family, and he now bought a place near her people. At first he felt
altogether out of his element, but he gradually fell into the ways of
country life, and no longer regretted that his work in India had come
to an end.


THE END.


