men. There was some desultory fighting between the rest of the escort
and the enemy, but the unfortunate escort without their officer and
down in the valley mounted could do nothing, and so the remnant had
to retire, leaving 3 or 4 dead, and the two wounded men I was talking
to, on the ground. The men told me that poor Showers' death must have
been instantaneous, as he was hit by 3 bullets at the same minute, and
never spoke or groaned. Sir Robert Sandeman said to one of the men
who happened to be a sergeant, that he was glad to see he was getting
better, and adding "you see your fate is good" (N.B.--This is a kind of
usual expression when a person has been fortunate, as all Mohammedans
are great believers in "Kismet" or fate), on which the poor fellow,
with tears in his eyes and with wonderful energy and spirit, said, "Ah,
Sahib, don't say that; don't say my fate is good, for I am filled with
shame to think that my Sahib is dead and I am alive. It is a great
shame to me that I am alive; my fate is bad." It was very touching, and
there was no doubt of the man's sincerity and honesty, as we who heard
him could testify to. What he said loses greatly by translation, and
by not being heard, but it was really a most impressive sight. This
wild Beloochie, with his long black hair all about his face, which was
quite pale from pain and loss of blood, getting, in his excitement,
on his elbow as he lay in his bed and speaking with the greatest
earnestness, and then falling back on his pillow quite overcome with
weakness and agitation. The men all liked Showers greatly, as his pluck
and dash appealed to their feelings strongly. This man was the senior
of the party, and he told me he said to Showers that he had better not
go by that route, but that the Sahib only laughed and asked him if he
was afraid. I asked him what he did then, and he said "Oh, the Sahib
was only joking; he knew I was not afraid; but I wanted to save him,
but of course, as he was determined to go on, we said nothing more."
When the rest of the party retired, the enemy came down and stripped
the two wounded men of all their clothes, except their linen shirts and
drawers, and there they lay for 2 nights in the piercing cold. This
man said, "Oh, Sahib, it was so cold and I had such pain, I prayed all
night to God, and said 'let me die,' but God would not let me die, and
here I am. No, my fate is not good!!!" It is a long story, but I tell
it to you to show the sort of fellows many of our native soldiers are,
men that anyone might be proud to serve with. For myself I would go
into action with our native troops without a hesitation (especially men
of certain races), assured of their fighting well and gallantly. This
man of whom I have been telling you was a countryman of the people who
killed Showers, and yet he was perfectly loyal, even to losing his own
life, in the service he had taken. There is no doubt Showers ought not
to have gone the way he did, and in no case ought he to have gone so
weakly escorted. His body was recovered, and he is buried at Quetta,
and punishment has been awarded to the men who attacked him.
TUESDAY, APRIL 13th.--We left Quetta on our first march out to Kandahar
at ¼ to 6 a.m., having, I am sorry to say, left behind at Quetta
Captain Cooke-Collis, who was ordered by a telegram, that was awaiting
him at Quetta, to remain there until the arrival of General Phayre,
whose staff officer he is to be. We were very sorry to lose him, as
he is a pleasant companion, active, energetic, and most obliging. I
was in hopes that he was to be my Brigade Major, which he wished to
be, so the arrangement now made is a disappointment to us both. As the
country between Quetta and Kandahar is more or less disturbed, and the
tribes along the route are not friendly, I thought it well to increase
my escort, so have added to it half a company of Infantry who will
furnish sentries at night and guard the baggage on the road, while the
Cavalry escort will accompany me. With our 5 selves and ½ troop of
Cavalry and ½ company of Infantry, I feel quite safe, and only fear
we won't be given a chance of exchanging compliments with the tribes on
our route. A wing of the 30th N.I. is one march ahead of us, and the
7th Fusiliers escorting £100,000 of treasure leave Quetta to-morrow, so
they will be one march behind us, so we have plenty of troops on the
road.
APRIL 21st.--It is more than a week since I have been able to write up
my journal, as I have, I may say, hardly been out of the saddle since
the 16th, and have slept in my clothes for 4 nights.--April 13th,
continued.--Metarzai, the first march out from Quetta, is a wretched
place, nothing but sand and stones, no rest-house, so we had to pitch
tents for the first time, and found them very hot during the day-time.
The water was far from good.
[Sidenote: March to Dina-Kharez.]
APRIL 14th.--Marched to Dina Kharez, a word which signifies "bitter
waters," and most richly the place has earned its name, as more
disgusting water I never tasted. Our party is a singularly temperate
one, and we all prefer cold tea to any drink, but here it was quite
impossible to drink the tea, as the water is quite salt, and tea made
of it bore a most painful likeness to a black draught, or the senna and
salts of one's youth.--By the way, why is it that the children of the
present day have not to drink the great big tumblers full of senna and
salts which we used to have periodically!--The road between Metarzai
and Dina-Kharez (distance 12 miles) is, as usual, very uninteresting,
except that it crosses what is called the Ghazerbund Pass, a moderately
high range of hills, with an ascent and descent of about 700 to 800
feet. There was a rest-house at Dina-Kharez, but we all (including the
horses) suffered much inconvenience for want of some decent water.
APRIL 15th.--Marched to Segi (10 miles) the country still most
uninteresting and desolate, no inhabitants and no cultivation. The heat
in the day-time is very considerable, and we are all very glad when
evening comes. We always dine outside in the cool, and at Segi we very
nearly lost our dinner, as the soup, which is the great stand by, had
just been placed on one of our rickety camp tables, when 2 great bull
dogs who belong to members of our party, thought fit to commence a most
violent fight under the tables and chairs which were scattered in all
directions. Fortunately we managed to snatch the dishes off first, and
so saved our dinner. I may as well here give the routine of our days,
which are one just like another. We are woke at 4 a.m., dress, pack up
our beds, tents, &c., &c., put them on the carts or camels, placing
materials for breakfast on a pony, as he travels much faster than
camels.--March at 5 a.m., and are generally in at 8 a.m. Shortly after
the pony comes up with some servants, and we have a pic-nic breakfast;
about the time it is done the baggage comes in, and tents are pitched
and boxes opened, and we dress and wash, read, write and talk till 5
o'clock, when we go out for a stroll and visit the horses, &c. Dinner
at 6, and we are all fast asleep at ½ past 8.
[Sidenote: March to Gulistan Kharez.]
FRIDAY, 16th APRIL.--Marched to Gulistan Kharez (10 miles) through
the usual uninteresting desert, but the place itself, which literally
interpreted, means "place of roses," is much better than any place we
have been at yet on this side of Quetta, as there is plenty of good
water (a bright flowing stream), and a few trees. Here there is in
course of completion, what there ought to be at each of the stages, a
small fort and enclosure for the commissariat stores. The fort would be
quite sufficient to resist any attack the Afghans (without artillery)
could bring against it, but to my surprise I found it had no gate or no
means of closing the entrance. The engineer officer in charge of all
the works on the road happened to be at Gulistan, and I sent for him
and told him that I did not at all like the state of things, and that
he must, at any cost, make a gate or other arrangement. The difficulty
was getting wood, of which there is none in this desolate wilderness.
As a makeshift I caused the native officer in command of the post to be
shown how to make a temporary barricade with carts and sand bags, and
so to secure himself against a sudden rush. I dare say at the time I
was thought a desperate nuisance and over particular, but if that was
the idea then the next day's events quite altered their opinions.
[Sidenote: Forced ride on to Chaman.]
SATURDAY, APRIL 17th.--Marched to Killa Abdoola, which is 11½ miles
from Gulistan, and 5 miles from the foot of the Pass across the Khojak
range of mountains which are there 7000 feet high. We got to the end
of our march about half-past 8 o'clock, and about 10 o'clock, as we
had just finished breakfast, the telegraph clerk (there is a telegraph
office here) brought me an urgent message from General Phayre, who was
at Chaman, on the other side of the Khojak range (16 miles off), to
say that disturbances, the extent of which he did not yet know, had
broken out between Chaman and Kandahar, and that all communication with
Kandahar was closed. He asked me to come to him at once. Our baggage
animals having only just completed 11 miles, and the heat being very
great, it was clear the whole party could not go on, so I decided to
ride forward myself, accompanied only by one officer and 5 native
cavalry, leaving all my baggage behind. Major Greig, of the R. A.,
having a fresh horse, I selected to go with me, and we started at 11.30
to ride across the Khojak to Chaman. The Pass is a very narrow and
difficult one, offering many opportunities for organised resistance or
ambushes, but I thought on the whole it was better for me to take quite
a small escort, as if the Pass was held the whole of my escort could
not have forced it, and if there were only a few of the enemy about we
had a better chance to pass through unobserved going a small party.
The proceeding was a little risky, and had it not been successful
would have been disapproved, I dare say; but for myself, I confess I
never expected to meet resistance, as I knew General Phayre's account
of the disturbances were not at all likely to suffer by emanating from
him, as he is a man of extremes, and I thought it quite possible that
things were not as bad as they seemed. The road from Killa Abdoola to
the foot of the Pass is through the bed of a mountain torrent, the
low hills on either side being too far off to afford cover for anyone
trying to hold the Pass. The ascent to the mouth of the Pass is quite
gentle, and then it rises in very steep gradients 2,500 feet. We have
made an excellent zig-zag road up one side and down the other, and the
view from the top is very extensive and curious. About ¼ to 3 I rode
into Chaman, having come across under 3 hours, which was not bad, as
the cavalry soldiers I had with me had already done 11 miles more, and
I had to save their horses in case of necessity either for a charge
or a bolt on the road. I found General Phayre much exercised in mind,
and greatly impressed with the fact that there was a _general_, not a
_local_, hostile movement against us. His information came from Quetta
from Sir R. Sandeman, who is not, I think, as a rule very dependable
in his news. However, of one thing, there was no doubt that there had
been, the night before, an attack in force on a small commissariat
depot about 26 miles from Chaman, and that there an officer and 17 or
18 men (principally commissariat servants) had been killed, and that
another depot, 16 miles from Chaman, had been partially looted, but no
one killed. To this depot, named Gatai, General Phayre had sent on a
wing of a native regiment, and had a troop of native cavalry ready to
go with me if I would go on at once there, and then act as I thought
best, but he recommended my waiting at Gatai until he sent me as
reinforcements 2 guns of a mountain battery, and a couple of hundred of
the 7th Fusiliers. Of course I was all anxiety to get on, so, borrowing
horses from the native cavalry for Major Greig and myself, we started
again an hour after we had reached Chaman, escorted by the troop of
native cavalry. The distance between the 2
[Sidenote: Push on to Gatai.]
places is 17 miles, and the road lies over a stony, sandy plain,
without a village or a living being to be seen. I pushed on as fast
as I could, as I wanted, if possible, to get to Gatai and see all the
necessary arrangements for the defence of the post made before dark.
On arriving, I found that all had been done by the officer in command
which was possible, but the means at his disposal were very limited,
and so had been his time. He had, however, closed up the greater
portion of the entrance with bags of grain, and had raised the walls in
a temporary fashion by laying along them rows of grain bags and making
temporary loop holes. The necessary sentries and picquets were posted,
but the night passed quietly, all of us, however, sleeping in our
clothes. I had no luggage, clothes, or bedding, except the breeches,
and boots, and Norfolk jacket I stood in, but the officers made a
subscription of blankets for me; and one young fellow insisted on my
sleeping on his camp bed, which unwillingly I had to do, he was so
kindly urgent about it.
SUNDAY, APRIL 18th.--Before continuing my story it will be as well to
explain that between the Khojak Pass and Kandahar, the road is divided
into 6 stages, as follows:--
1st. Chaman, at foot of the Pass.
2nd. Gatai, 17 miles from Chaman.
3rd. Dubbrai, 10 miles from Gatai.
4th. Mel Kharez, 12 miles from Dubbrai.
5th. Abdool Rahmon, 12½ miles from Mel Kharez.
6th. Mandi Hissar, 14 miles from Abdool Rahmon.
7th. Kandahar, 11 miles from Mandi Hissar.
At each of these places there is a small enclosure, it cannot be called
a fort, in which the commissariat stores are placed. General Stewart
refused to garrison the smaller of these with our troops, but left
them in charge of native levies who the civil authorities assured him
were perfectly trustworthy. The value of this opinion has been very
conclusively shown by the events of the past week. Each enclosure or
fort is like the other, except in size, some being larger than others.
They are of the following shape:--
[Illustration]
General Phayre (leaving me, however, full powers to act as I thought
best) suggested to me that it would be better to wait at Gatai till the
guns and the European troops reached me, but on reflection I came to
the conclusion that to leave Dubbrai unoccupied, and the dead unburied
a moment longer than could be avoided, would have the worst effect,
and that it was quite worth risking something to obviate this, so, as
soon as it was light, I issued orders (I may mention for my soldier
and sailor brothers' information that I have throughout given each
person distinct and plain _written_ orders, so that everyone knew
exactly what to do, and once I issued an order I never changed it)
for reconnoitering parties of cavalry to proceed to Dubbrai and the
hills to our right front, while I pushed on a detachment of native
infantry, with a few cavalry, to re-occupy Dubbrai. I, of course,
left a sufficient force at Gatai to hold it, instructing the officer
in command to strengthen the defences and keep a good look out. I did
not, I confess, expect opposition, and was not therefore surprised
to find, when I followed the main body with a small cavalry escort,
that they had found Dubbrai empty, except of dead bodies, and seen
none of the enemy on the road. We found in and around the Fort 30 dead
bodies and 1 wounded man, who told us he was a Ghazi (fanatic), from
Khelat-i-Ghilzi, and that there were plenty more of them coming. The
men were most anxious to shoot the wretched creature, and I think the
officers generally thought it would have been right to do so, but of
course I forbid anything of the kind, and ordered him medical aid, and
such food and drink as we had at our disposal. I am bound to say he was
not a bit grateful, but regularly spit at us and defied us. He died the
next day, which was quite the best thing he could
[Sidenote: Account of the Dubbrai Attack.]
have done. Among the dead we found and recognized poor Major
Waudby's body, which I buried near the place he fell, reading the
funeral service myself as the best and greatest mark of respect I,
as commanding the force, could give to as gallant a soldier as ever
lived. Poor fellow, he had warning full 8 hours before the attack,
and could easily have evacuated the place, but knowing the country
and natives well, he knew what an evil effect it would have if it was
known a _Sahib_ had shown fear, and so he clearly elected to accept,
one may say, certain death, rather than discredit his name. He had
only 2 sepoys of his own regiment with him, all the rest being helpless
unarmed servants of his own and the commissariat establishment. He must
have fought splendidly, as the enemy themselves acknowledge that they
had 16 killed and 18 wounded, which was very good shooting. Nearly
everyone we saw of the enemy was shot right through the head, so poor
Waudby must have been as cool and collected as if he had been shooting
pheasants. His 2 sepoys died with him, and were found beside him. We
also found his dog sitting by his body refusing to be moved. The poor
dog had 2 terrible sword cuts on his back, but is recovering, and will
be sent home to Mrs. Waudby. While at Dubbrai I received a despatch
from Kandahar, saying that they had sent out troops from there to open
the road up to wherever they met us, and the officer in command sent
me word that no resistance had been offered and I could march on in
the ordinary way. I at once sent back to Chaman and countermanded the
move of the guns, and gave the necessary orders for the improving of
the defences of Dubbrai, and at the same time wrote to Kandahar to
General Primrose, recommending that I should remain a few days in the
neighbourhood with a force of cavalry, artillery and infantry, and that
I should march through all the disaffected districts, as I believed
this course necessary and desirable. I then rode back to Gatai, on my
way going to see about the removal into safety
[Sidenote: Await orders--return to Gatai.]
at that place of a large quantity of Government property which one
of my patrolling parties had discovered in the middle of some hills
about half way between the two places. These things proved to be a
large convoy of Government stores which an Afghan contractor had been
bringing upon camels to Kandahar, when he was attacked by the enemy,
and obliged to drop his load, and give them his camels to carry the
wounded and the loot from Dubbrai. We succeeded in rescuing them and
bringing them into the fort at Gatai, where I was obliged to leave them.
APRIL 19th.--The next morning I was reinforced by some of the 7th
Fusiliers, my own escort with my baggage coming in at the same time.
I had been 48 hours without anything but the clothes I stood in, and
I must say I really felt very little inconvenience from the want of
my luxuries. The ground does not make half a bad bed, especially if
one has been riding in a hot sun for 12 or 14 hours, and as to eating
and drinking there is no sauce like hunger and thirst, and under such
circumstances it is wonderful how extremely nice, things, that really
are very nasty, seem. I have discovered that a saddle is a first-class
pillow, and that with it and a couple of blankets and a fairly soft
piece of ground, a most excellent bed is quite possible. The truth was,
I was really done when evening came, and any place where one could
stretch oneself was delightful. On the afternoon of the 19th I rode
back to Dubbrai to try to telegraph to Kandahar, taking a telegraph
signaller with his instrument with me. The enemy had again (after all
my trouble of the previous day) cut the wire, and we had a lot more
work to do so very unwillingly, as it was getting dark, and I had only
2 native cavalry soldiers with me and no officer, I was obliged to
start back to Gatai without succeeding in sending my telegram. It was
rather a risky ride back in the dark (I did not get back into camp
till near 9 o'clock), but I kept a good look out, and always took care
to be going rather hard in any confined place where the enemy could
have concealed themselves. We saw not a soul, except on one occasion
in an open piece of ground, I thought I made out 4 or 5 fellows about
a quarter of a mile off, who, the very instant they saw I was coming
towards them with my 2 soldiers, bolted, and I thought, under the
circumstances, that I had no business to go skying after them, so
pursued my road quietly without an accident or incident of any kind.
[Sidenote: March to Mel Kharez.]
APRIL 20th.--This morning the wire was restored, and General Primrose
telegraphed to me that it was not thought necessary to keep troops,
as I suggested, at Gatai and thereabouts, and that he wanted me at
Kandahar. I then thought this wrong, and still think so, and the events
of the last few days have amply supported my views. However, I had
nothing to do but to obey, which I did, stating, however, my views
of the position very plainly in my report. The 7th Fusiliers (Head
Quarters) joined me this morning full of indignation because one of
their native servants, who had strayed away from the road, had been
attacked by Afghans and most seriously wounded. They had sent a couple
of cavalry soldiers out, who had evidently seized the first two Afghans
they had met and declared them to be the culprits. There was a great
demand for immediate _justice?_ and I fancy the lives of the 2 poor
wretches would not have been worth much had I not been in camp and
positively prohibited anything but an enquiry, leaving the punishment
of the men to the Civil authorities. I was the more determined on this
point, as the evidence against them seemed to me to be very weak.
I marched for Mel Kharez at 4 o'clock with my usual escort and party,
and stopping to dine at Dubbrai, arrived at the end of our journey (the
distance is 21 miles) about half-past 11. The last 2 hours we had a
bright moon and clear cold air, and the ride was very enjoyable.
[Sidenote: March to Abdool Rahmon.]