BLUFF AND ARMS
Ladis and its fort--A force without arms--First sight
of the enemy--Shah Sawar and more bluff--Battle--Bluff
succeeds--Casualties--Bad news from the North--Idu's
proposition--Jiand's stragglers--Jiand's white flag.
The following day we marched to Ladis, reaching that place just
before nightfall, and without incident.
Ladis is a camping place situated in a comparatively fertile tract of
country fully four thousand feet above sea-level on the slopes of the
famous Koh-i-taftan. A considerable stream flows through the valley.
If this stream were exploited for irrigation purposes the whole
district could be made most productive and profitable. The climate is
far better than in the greater part of the Sarhad, and there is an
abundance of chikor and other partridges, ibex, and wolves.
On the right bank of the stream is a fine old deserted fort, which
is far more substantially built than the occupied forts of Khwash
and Jalk, but it has been ruined by the disintegrating effect of the
water on the banks on which it is built. A passage at the base of it
indicates that at one time an underground tunnel connected the fort,
which lies on the right bank, with the left bank, thus affording a
means of escape, or of reinforcement, for the garrison.
We found, waiting for us at Ladis, a band of about fifty Rekis, who
had come to join the expedition in answer to an urgent appeal from
Idu.
I found they had no arms, ammunition or equipment, and asked them
where their rifles were.
"We have none, Sahib," their spokesman replied. "We thought the
General Sahib would give us rifles."
I was obliged to tell them that we had no spare arms, but as every
extra man would be an asset in our great game of bluff I was not
going to let them go, and would find some means of utilising their
services.
At first they were greatly disappointed to find that they were not
going to be awarded a free issue of British rifles, and commented on
the absurdity of a force of the size they saw before them attempting
to attack the great Raider Chief, Jiand Khan.
"Why, Sahib," the spokesman said, "Jiand has fully two thousand
well-armed men, all out to meet you. They will wipe you out in about
two minutes."
If it came to an open fight we all knew that this was literally true.
But we were relying on bluff and luck.
The local political officer, a Baluch, was entirely of the Rekis'
way of thinking, and did his utmost to persuade us to turn back and
save our skins. But we had not come so far to turn back. Orders were,
therefore, given to go forward.
Fortunately for us, and before we struck camp early on the following
morning, another political officer arrived to supersede him--a man of
totally different calibre. Khan Bahadur, the Sarhad-dar (the chief
political officer of all matters concerning the Sarhad) was full of
fight, greatly taken with our game of bluff, and fully prepared to
enter into its spirit, the only spirit which could possibly bring
such an enterprise as ours to a successful conclusion.
From Ladis the force marched South in the direction of Khwash,
covering about eighteen miles. This was not bad going when it is
remembered that the average rate for a camel caravan over rough sandy
country of this sort is about ten or twelve miles a day. We camped
that night in a narrow valley, surrounded by hills, and with a good
water supply.
The following day the march was resumed, and we were beginning to
wonder how soon we should get in touch with Jiand's forces when our
advance scouts reported that the enemy was just ahead, and encamped
on the low hills running out in spurs from the Koh-i-Taftan.
Our force was halted, and, riding forward myself, I dismounted and
took a good look at the enemy's position. This appeared to be, as I
had to admit to myself, a very strong one, and, as far as I could
gather, it looked as if it had been no idle report that Jiand's
force numbered something like two thousand men. In any case we were
in for it now, and must take our chances as they came.
I rode back, ordered the mountain guns to be brought up to some low
hills on the left, and the cavalry to move forward under cover to the
right.
The transport camels, numbering about six hundred, now came up,
under cover, and were put in charge of the sixty-five untrained
infantrymen. The two machine guns were brought up to a favourable
position in the centre, and our little force was now fully deployed
for action.
At this moment a man mounted on a camel was seen coming from the
enemy's camp, accompanied by a man on foot carrying a white flag of
truce.
When the messenger had approached nearer the Sarhad-dar exclaimed,
"Why, it is Shah Sawar himself!"
[Illustration: QUESTIONING A SARHADI PRISONER.]
Now Shah Sawar was a very famous Raider Chief, and a relation of
Jiand's. At one time he had been the owner and governor of Khwash,
but it appears that he had greatly coveted, as a bride, a very
beautiful lady known as the Gul-Bibi, or Rose Lady. As usual,
negotiations were conducted between the prospective bridegroom and
the lady's nearest male relative, who, in this instance, happened to
be a somewhat weak-charactered man named Mahommed-Hassan. The price
that Mahommed-Hassan placed on the Gul-Bibi was no less than the
ownership of Khwash itself. Shaw Sawar's infatuation drove him
to pay the price, though, from what I came to know of the ruffian
afterwards, I am perfectly convinced that he had every intention
of recovering his patrimony as soon as a favourable opportunity
presented itself.
When he rode up to me, preceded by the flag of truce, I was struck by
his fine appearance.
He announced that he had come with a message from his kinsman, Jiand
Khan, to the effect that, "If the General Sahib, accompanied by only
one man, would meet Jiand half-way, Jiand, also accompanied by one
man, would meet him and discuss the situation."
Of course the very last thing I wanted to do was to prolong any
negotiations. Every moment that passed increased the danger that
our bluff would be discovered, for it was quite obvious that, up
to date, Jiand believed in the existence of the great force being
brought against him under a British General, as reported to him by
Idu's spies. Therefore, it was necessary to bluster, and answer
indignantly, "How dare you come to a British General with any such
proposal from a scoundrel like Jiand? Go back and tell him that I am
coming, not half-way, but the whole way, and at once. I will give you
time to take him my message. I will then fire a shot into the air as
the signal that hostilities have begun, and the attack, which will
wipe him out, will commence."
Shah Sawar was visibly impressed, and, after a few moments'
hesitation, beckoned to the man who had come with him. After a
whispered colloquy the latter returned to Jiand with the General
Sahib's message. Shah Sawar himself said that he intended to remain
with me.
He was obviously cowed and bewildered. He firmly believed we had a
great army in the low hills behind us, and deemed it safer to remain
with us as a prisoner than to return to Jiand's camp and engage in a
battle against five thousand troops--which he could not see from his
present position!
Whilst the messenger was racing back to Jiand the seventeen
cavalrymen were ordered to show themselves, and as they topped the
hills, apparently the advance guard of a great force, their big
horses looked most imposing.
Lieutenant Hirst, commanding them, was directed to make a pretence of
threatening the left flank and rear of Jiand's position, but ordered
not to go too close!
Then, as soon as information came that Jiand's messenger had reached
his camp--some six hundred yards distant--and had had time to deliver
his message, one of the Chagai Levies was ordered to fire a shot into
the air as a signal that the battle had begun.
He pulled his trigger, but nothing happened.
I told him to try again.
Again he pulled the trigger, and this time with the desired result.
The battle had begun.
The order to charge was given. The cavalry moved rapidly to the
right, the machine guns rattled, and the infantry--nine trained men
and a handful of Chagai Levies, rushed forward in the centre.
What happened in the enemy's camp I only learned afterwards, but it
appears to have been as follows: Jiand, seeing the cavalry advancing
as if to threaten his retreat, really believed that the mythical
army of five thousand was commencing its attack in full force, and,
mounting his own camel, he gave an order which literally amounted to
a "_sauve qui peut_." In any case, and in a moment, his force was
scattered in a frenzy of terror, and in full retreat, amongst the
hills and valleys.
For a moment Landon and I looked at each other. Then, as we realised
that the great bluff had succeeded, we rushed forward, with a loud
whoop, closely accompanied by the Sarhad-dar. As we were mounted, we
got ahead of the others, and actually overtook a number of Jiand's
men retreating down a nullah. We emptied our revolvers into them, and
some of our infantry coming up, their terror was increased, for they
thought they had been trapped by overwhelming numbers.
The enemy had suffered a loss of seven killed. On our side we had one
man wounded, and I honestly believe he was wounded by one of our own
untrained infantrymen, who, in the excitement and enthusiasm of the
moment, had disobeyed orders and joined in the chase.
By the evening there was no one left in sight to chase, so we halted
and made preparations to camp where we were. Only a few hours before
we had known that if the truth of our numbers had leaked out not one
of us would live till night to tell the tale. Fortunately the secret
had been well kept, and, although we had only accounted for seven
of the enemy, it was obvious we had won a decisive victory. Jiand's
entire force was scattered and demoralised, and it would take him a
considerable time, even when he did learn how he had been tricked, to
collect them again.
He was a very notable man, with enormous power and prestige, not
only with his own tribe, the Yarmahommedzais, but with all the
nomad tribes of the district, and was regarded as a personage by
the Governments of both India and of Persia. His defeat would be
a very bitter pill for him to swallow. Although he was looked on
by the Ismailzais and the Gamshadzais as a sort of over-lord, even
of their own Chiefs, there was always great rivalry between the
various tribes, and he would know that Juma Khan, whilst outwardly
sympathising with him, would, in reality, be jubilant.
Accordingly, and for the sake of his own prestige, he must make the
most of the forces brought against him. That very evening I learned
from one of his men, who had been overtaken and brought back as a
prisoner, that he had given out that he had had seven hundred men
killed and amongst the number was his own favourite son. The death
of this son, I afterwards found, was a bitter blow to the famous old
Chief, and I have always been sorry that he credited my hand as being
the one which had struck him down, though this was absolutely untrue.
Seven men multiplied by a hundred was not bad as a free
advertisement. But I determined to go one better.
"Seven hundred!" I retorted to the trembling prisoner. "Nonsense! If
you had said seven thousand, it would be far nearer the mark."
Now the great thing was to make the most of our almost bloodless
victory near Koh-i-taftan, and pursue Jiand and his men as far as
possible amongst the rocky fastnesses of the hills into which they
had fled. If only the old ruffian could be persuaded to surrender
before the bluff was called, it would be just possible to make the
other tribes think that the whole game was up, and so make terms with
us; thus obviating a long and harassing campaign.
So we pursued him for two days, as far as Kamalabad, his own special
winter headquarters, nearly overtaking him. But he just eluded us as
we entered the place by riding out at the other end, and so escaped
into the Morpeish Hills, where it was quite hopeless to think of
following him with our very small force.
On the other hand, if we left him there, he became an hourly menace.
It could be only a question of time before Jiand would be bound to
learn how he had been duped. He would then collect his men once more,
summon the other tribes to his assistance, and wipe out our little
force as he might have done, had he only known, at Koh-i-taftan.
Moreover, news had just reached us of an untoward little incident
which had occurred away to the West of Robat. A small British force
had been operating in the vicinity of Nasaratabad-sippi (not to
be confused with Nasaratabad in Seistan) and this force had been
attacked in overwhelming numbers by the Ismailzais, under Juma Khan.
It had suffered considerable loss, not only in men, but in mules,
rifles, and, most important of all, ammunition. The British officer
commanding had fought ably and had averted disaster, but the losses
had been sufficient to create a rumour that Juma Khan had scored an
exaggerated victory.
This must undoubtedly be avenged, and the only hope of doing so was
to strike at once, and whilst Jiand's forces were still scattered and
demoralised.
Landon, the Sarhad-dar, Idu and I immediately took counsel together.
We discussed the reports of the various scouts who had been sent
out in every direction. It appeared that the redoubtable Jiand
had received a great shock, and that his nerves were thoroughly
shattered. He had dearly loved his son, and the loss was a great
grief. He also firmly believed he had lost a great number of his
followers in killed and wounded, and his pride was suffering badly in
the loss of his prestige as a practically unbeaten Chief.
Then Idu evolved a brilliant scheme by which he believed we should
be able to lure Jiand, in his present broken state, to surrender.
Kamalabad, where we were at present encamped, and which was Jiand's
favourite winter residence, is one of the few spots in the Sarhad
well irrigated and consequently well cultivated. The place is freely
intersected with karezes, from which the fields are systematically
watered. Moreover, the valley is watered on its Western side by
a stream which gushes out of the ground, and, after flowing past
Gazo, winds round the Northern slopes of the Morpeish Hills and the
Sar-i-drokan, to lose itself soon afterwards in the sand.
Kamalabad is not, strictly speaking, a village, as there are no
houses there. But it becomes densely populated when Jiand's nomad
families camp there in their _jugis_ during the winter months.
Beyond this fertile valley, which for half the year is teeming with
life, though it is practically deserted during the summer months, the
Morpeish Hills rise abruptly and precipitately out of the plain to a
height of ten thousand feet.
On the farther side of these hills, and shut in beyond by the
Sar-i-drokan Range, rising to about the same height as the Morpeish
Hills, and running parallel with them for a distance of about
seventy-five miles, is another valley, Jiand's favourite summer haunt.
It will thus be seen that it was utterly impossible to think of
attempting to drive Jiand out of his refuge. Even supposing that
we succeeded in dislodging him from the Morpeish Hills he would at
once make for the Sar-i-drokan, a range which would be still more
difficult to negotiate, apart from the fact that it would draw us
farther and farther from our base and any hope of supplies. But it
was evident that something must be done, and done quickly. Idu's
proposal was, therefore, the only one offering any hope of success.
All the crops of wheat and barley in the Kamalabad Valley were then
at their full growth, though still green, and it was upon these
crops, when harvested, that Jiand and the entire Yarmahommedzai tribe
relied for their yearly bread supply.
Idu's idea was substantially this, that we should send a message to
Jiand, whilst he still believed himself pursued by a vast force,
summon him to surrender forthwith, and tell him that, if he failed
to comply with the instant summons, the whole of his crops would be
destroyed. Anyhow the idea was worth trying.
Accordingly, trustworthy messengers were sent to him telling him that
if he surrendered himself on behalf of his tribe, before sundown on
the following day, the lives of himself and his followers would
be safe, and his crops would be spared. If, however, he failed to
surrender by the appointed time, six hundred camels, which had
already arrived with the advance guard of the great force operating
against him, would be turned loose in his fields, and, as he well
knew, would make very short work of his crops.
The hours that passed between the sending out of the messengers, and
the time limit for Jiand's surrender, were very anxious ones. Would
bluff continue to carry us through, or had the bubble been pricked?
During that day news reached us from stragglers, who came trembling
to join us at Kamalabad, that many of the old people and women of
Jiand's tribe were in great distress. During the headlong flight of
himself and his fighting men the weaklings were left behind, and, in
their terror, they had fled into all sorts of hiding places where
there was neither water nor food. Orders were immediately given
that they were to be reassured and succoured in every way, and that
food and water were to be supplied to them, also _jugis_, wherever
possible, to shelter them.
The day passed and the time limit was rapidly running out when,
between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, we saw a little group
of men emerge from the Morpeish Hills, carrying a white flag.
These men approached and announced that they had come as emissaries
from Jiand Khan, who was on his way to surrender. He admitted his
defeat by the overwhelming numbers brought against him, said he knew
it was no use continuing to fight against them, and that his heart
was broken by the loss of his son. For the sake of his people he must
save the crops or they would surely die. Therefore, if the General
Sahib swore on his honour that the lives of himself and his men would
be safe, and that his crops would be spared, he would surrender.