Notwithstanding all this, Dost Mahomed, not yet beaten, was soon once
more in command of a respectable force. The force which had been
pursuing him under Sir Robert Sale came up with him on the 2nd of
November. As our cavalry advanced upon him, Dost Mahomed, at the head
of a small band of horsemen, strong, sturdy Afghans, but badly mounted,
prepared to meet his assailants. Beside him rode the bearer of the blue
standard, which marked his place in the battle. He pointed to it, and
reined in his horse, then snatching the white _lunghi_ from his head,
stood up in his stirrups uncovered before his followers, and called upon
them in the name of God and the Prophet to drive the cursed Kaffirs from
the country of the faithful. "Follow me," he cried aloud, "or I am a
lost man!" Slowly, but steadily, the Afghan horsemen advanced. The
English officers who led our cavalry to the attack covered themselves
with glory; but the native troopers, those vaunting horsemen,
treacherous not for the first time even now, and who were in after years
to prove traitors of the darkest dye, fled like sheep. Emboldened by
the dastardly conduct of the men of the 2nd Light Cavalry, the Afghan
horsemen dashed on, driving their enemy before them, and not stopping
till they were almost within reach of the British guns.
The British officers unsupported by their men met the full force of the
Afghan charge, and fought bravely to the last. Lieutenants Broadfoot
and Crispin were killed, while Captains Fraser and Ponsonby, though
badly wounded, broke through their assailants.
The next evening poor gallant Dost Mahomed, seeing his cause was
hopeless, gave himself up to the British at Cabul, and shortly after was
sent to British India.