A FULL BAG OF PRISONERS
The march to Kacha--The food supply--Flowers in the
Wilderness--Galugan--Repeated strategy--Juma Khan comes
in--The bag is full--The throne of the dancing-maidens--Landon
declines--Idu's doubts--Suspicions aroused--Halil Khan closes
up--Kacha, oaths, and thumb-marks--The Chiefs depart--Bad news.
The march from Khwash to Kacha was over constantly ascending ground,
and the higher the altitude reached the more abundant did the
vegetation become.
On the third day I noticed that a great many of the Raiders were
carrying bunches of green stuff under their arms, plucked along the
line of march, and I asked Idu what they were going to do with it.
He replied that they would eat it raw, and supplemented this
information with the further news that, beyond a few dried dates,
the surrendered Raiders had brought hardly any rations with them.
Consequently, and very shortly, I should be called upon to feed them.
This was an alarming prospect. We had left a generous supply of food
behind for the garrison of Khwash, thus reducing our own rations to
a bare sufficiency for the considerable distance to be covered.
I instructed Idu to ward off the evil day as long as possible, but
told him that, in the last extremity, our food supplies would, of
course, be fairly and evenly shared with the Sarhadis.
At this stage in the march we reached a height of some seven thousand
feet, and I was struck with the beauty of the scene. Around us
the slopes were covered with a profusion of flowers of every hue,
forming, so it seemed, a vast, variegated carpet. Although I know
nothing whatever of flowers from a botanical point of view the
beauty of many of them struck me so much that, later in the year, I
collected some of the seeds and preserved them carefully with the
idea of home cultivation. These seeds remained with me in all my
wanderings, but, unfortunately, on my journey home the pocket-book
containing them was lost.
One plant in particular, the asefœtida (locally known as hing), is
very striking, and most effective in the distance. The lower leaves
are very big, and the plant throws up a tall, yellow shoot, two or
three feet high, topped by a cluster of the most brilliant flowers of
the same colour. This plant is much valued by the Baluchis, and I am
told that large quantities are exported from this district to India.
[Illustration: SURRENDERED RAIDERS: HALIL (left), JIAND (centre),
SHAH SAWAR (right).]
We were lucky in finding cool camping places on the third and fourth
nights of the march. On the fifth we commenced our last march on
the plain to Galugan, the territory belonging to the Ismailzais under
their leader, Juma Khan.
Galugan is like Kamalabad, a district only populated during certain
seasons of the year, when the Ismailzais make a regular encampment
there, live in jugis, and settle down for a time to the cultivation
of their crops. The place is well watered, with a very fertile soil
capable of bearing magnificent crops of wheat and barley.
As we approached the camping ground of Galugan our scouts came back
to inform us that Juma Khan had deserted Galugan, and had gone,
with all his tribe, into the high hills surrounding the place. He
had heard of the defeat of Jiand at Koh-i-taftan, of his subsequent
surrender, and of the capture of Khwash. He had also seen our forces
approaching, and had no hope of success if he had remained to offer
battle.
As a matter of fact we really did present quite an imposing
appearance by this time. Our numbers had been augmented by small
groups of Jiand's and Halil Khan's men who had joined us at intervals
all along the route.
We accordingly marched, without any opposition, into Galugan, and
found it, as reported, absolutely deserted, with the exception of
one old woman who had utterly refused to desert her crops, and was
eventually discovered hiding in a field.
As the threat of destruction to his crops had been so successful
with Jiand we determined to try the same threat on Juma Khan.
Accordingly, messengers were sent summoning him to surrender at once,
with all his force, under a similar penalty. I told the messengers
to impress upon him the fact that he and his tribe were now quite
isolated, that the Gamshadzais and Yarmahommedzais had surrendered,
but that they, and their leaders, had been well and generously
treated, their lives and crops spared, and that the same generous
treatment would be accorded to him if he delivered himself up without
delay.
Very shortly he sent back a message to say that he realised he
was in a hopeless position, and was quite prepared to surrender
unconditionally. He also offered to restore all the plunder he had
taken in the direction of Nasaratabad-sippi. But he asked for a
definite guarantee that his life would be spared.
I sent back word that he need have no fear on that score. My mission
was to make him see the error of his ways and to re-establish good
relations between his tribe and the British; also, that he would be
treated exactly as I had treated Jiand and Halil Khan.
That same evening he came into camp, with some thirty of his
followers as a body-guard, and formally surrendered.
He was a somewhat different type from both Jiand and Halil Khan.
Juma Khan was of medium height, and slightly built. He had a very
pleasing, well-cut, high-bred face, always full of smiles and
laughter, as though life were one huge joke.
Idu, who, as I have already said, knew all about the Sarhadi Chiefs
and their characteristic points, said to me after I had interviewed
Juma Khan, "If Juma Khan gives you his oath on the Koran he will keep
it. He is well known throughout the Sarhad as a man who abides by his
word. Any promise, therefore, that he makes to you he will faithfully
keep."
I was especially glad that Juma Khan had come into line, and
for a very good reason. The easiest route for German emissaries
into Afghanistan lay through his territory. On all routes across
Persia water-supply is one of the most vital considerations, the
consequence being that many an otherwise convenient road had had to
be abandoned owing to lack of water. Now the stream which runs from
Galugan, piercing the hills and running into the Persian district of
Narmashir, offers an excellent supply, so making this route an easy
one for German agents--if not opposed by Juma Khan. But with Juma
Khan on our side it would be practically impossible for such to get
through the Sarhad. It was, therefore, my policy to treat him with
special consideration. To be plain, I wished him, though an unwilling
captive, to be a real convert to our interests.
All the Sarhadi Chiefs were now prisoners, but the problem arose
as to the best and safest method of transporting them, and all
their followers, back to Kacha, fully eighty miles distant. Our own
food supplies were already running very short, yet I was obliged
to promise the Raiders a fair and equal share of these. We were,
therefore, immediately obliged to go on half rations.
To add to our troubles the weather was beginning to get very hot on
these plains, and I well knew that, at any rate on some days--owing
to water difficulties--it would be necessary to make long marches.
The first march out of Galugan proved to be heavy uphill work, our
route lying up a steady, steep incline. But at night we found a
suitable camping ground by the side of a stream. Here again the
ground was covered by a mass of beautiful flowers. The following day
we descended to the Duzd-ab plain, and had only crossed some five
miles of it when a hill of such extraordinary appearance came into
view that Landon and I simultaneously exclaimed. This looked for all
the world like a huge mushroom with flattened dome and very thick
stem--obviously a hill whose upper part was of a harder formation
than the lower, thus resisting with better success the attacks of
time and weather.
Idu cantered up on his pony and pointed to the hill with pride.
"That, Sahib," he said, "is called the Takht-i-Jinikan" (throne of
the dancing maidens).
"Why was it given that name?" I asked. "Do maidens live there alone?"
Idu grinned. "Listen, Sahib, and I will tell you the story of the
Takht-i-Jinikan. On beautiful moonlight nights immortal maidens are
supposed to dance on the flat top of this hill. If a young man is
really very good he may climb to the top of the hill alone, while
they are dancing, in the hope of obtaining a bride. But he must be
very good to be sufficiently worthy to win the love of one of these
immortal maidens. If he succeeds she becomes mortal, and they are
married."
I asked Idu if he had met anyone who had obtained an immortal bride.
Idu smiled. "I fear there is no young man in the Sarhad good enough
to be worthy of the honour!"
I persuaded Landon, who was unmarried, to climb the hill with me--but
not by moonlight! On our return Idu asked Major Landon if he had seen
the Jinikan.
Landon replied regretfully that he had not, but was sure
it was because he had not been able to ascend the hill by
moonlight--certainly not because he was not good enough. He, however,
had seen some very large footprints, which he sincerely trusted,
for the sake of the beauty of the legend, did not belong to these
immortal damsels!
But what pleased me more than the romantic hill was the discovery
of a stream only a short distance away. This afforded not only an
unexpectedly good supply of water, but, from a quantity of dry
bushes along its banks, an abundance of fire wood for cooking.
On each day of the march we held counsel with the Sarhadis and soon
became on friendly terms with them. We found them a very interesting
crowd, full of adventure and the joy of life. They informed me that,
as they had now thrown in their lot with me, they were quite ready
to take part in any raid with me, if only I would organise one. Nor
did the objective matter. Persia, Afghanistan, or, in fact, anywhere
where there might be excitement and adventurous doings. So friendly,
indeed, were we all that I began to think my work, and the whole
object for which I had been sent to the Sarhad, accomplished.
But Idu was never optimistic on the subject. He invariably shook his
head, and warned me, in and out of season, against Halil Khan and
Jiand. He, at last, so infected me with his own anxiety, that I began
to wonder whether the two Chiefs might not take it into their heads
to wipe out our little force one night. They could have done this
with the utmost ease. This change of mind induced me at last to make
my camp dispositions with redoubled care. The Raiders were given to
understand that they must take part in organising the camp against
some unknown foe who might make them, as well as myself, an object of
attack.
My suspicions were further aroused by the minute way in which
they questioned me as to the individuality of that foe, and the
direction from which it would be possible for him to come. I told
them that habit in soldiers becomes second nature; that it was a
soldier's habit to take the utmost precaution in self-defence, and
that neglected precaution might always bring possible disaster.
But I could see that they accepted the explanation with doubt, and
obviously disbelieved in my mythical foe.
The third day's march across the Duzd-ab valley was a very trying
one. We had to make a double march, for our food supplies were
almost exhausted, and it was obviously imperative to reach Kacha as
soon as possible. It must be remembered, too, that we had been on
half rations since leaving Galugan, and already there had been much
grousing amongst the whole force.
That night we encamped at the base of a hill which Jiand proudly
announced as "Koh-i-Jiandsiah," or the "Hill of Black Jiand." I asked
him who Black Jiand might be, and he replied that his father's name
was Jiand, though he was not black, and that the hill had been named
after him. The old fellow was obviously proud of the honour which had
been conferred on his father.
Here Landon and I spent an anxious night, for both Idu and the
Sarhad-dar were very nervous and depressed. The latter said that a
rumour had got about amongst the Sarhadis that all my promises and
protestations to them were false, and that I was really leading
them into a trap at Kacha, where they were all to be killed.
Consequently, the idea had been discussed as to whether it might not
be safer, and wiser, to attack our small force, overwhelm us during
the night, and escape before daybreak.
As may be imagined, the prospect was scarcely a pleasant one, but we
could take no stricter precautions than had already been done, and
our sole remaining action now was to show an absolutely untroubled
and confident front to men who, though nominally our prisoners, held
us in the hollow of their hands. In other words to "trust to luck."
Fortunately for us the Raiders, who still could not make head or tail
of the real situation, determined on a pacific course, and the night
passed without incident. So luck stood with us, and on the following
morning we were early astir for the last march south of Kacha.
It was evident that the situation had now become one of the "touch
and go" order, so I determined to emphasise my supposed confidence in
the Raiders, by this means restoring theirs, and convincing them that
there was no trap. I, therefore, gave orders that none of them were
to march in advance, but in the rear, as I wished to have a clear
view of my covering troops.
As we drew in towards Kacha I noticed that Halil Khan and his band
gathered as close in behind me as possible, and I learned afterwards
that he had said, "If we are to be led into a trap I will see to it
that the General Sahib does not escape me."
[Illustration: CAMEL CORPS SAWARS AT THE TERMINATION OF OPERATIONS.]
I had already given orders that, the instant we entered Kacha, the
advance guard of infantry, also the cavalry and guns, were to march
straight off to their respective barracks. This order I learned
afterwards greatly relieved the anxiety of the Sarhadis, who had
actually talked themselves into an honest belief of the existence
of a trap. They themselves encamped in the vicinity of the British
Political Officer's house. He himself was absent at that date.
Ample food supplies were dealt out to them. Now that our lines of
communication were clear of the Raiders food was coming through again
from India.
For the moment all need for anxiety seemed at an end.
On the 1st of May I summoned a Durbar, to be held, on the following
day, close to the Political Officer's house. Idu was not present, for
he had asked for leave to go to Robat on important personal business.
I suspected this important business was a visit to one of his
numerous wives, though the rascal always disclaimed the suggestion
that his absences ever had anything to do with a woman.
The Durbar was an impressive affair. Several bags of money were
brought from the Government Treasury by the Sarhad-dar and placed at
my feet. These were to be given to the Chiefs as rewards for future
good conduct. After delivering an address--more or less a repetition
of what I had said at Khwash as to the folly of deserting the British
for the Germans--I called on the Chiefs to sign an agreement whereby
they handed their country over to the Sirkar, and promised in future
to be loyal to the Indian Government. Further than this, and under
this agreement, they were to give timely warning of the approach of
German agents from any direction.
As most of the Raiders could not write, their thumb-marks were duly
impressed on an imposing looking document produced by the Sarhad-dar,
and the Chiefs swore on the Koran to abide by the agreement. They
were then handed the money rewards promised them, Jiand receiving the
largest amount--two thousand rupees.
I then announced to them that they were all free to return to their
homes, and that if ever any of them needed a friend, or would like me
to adjudicate between them on any local quarrel, they were at liberty
to call upon me for the purpose.
They professed themselves as very grateful for all that had been
given them; admitted they had been treated generously, and promised,
on oath, that there should be no more trouble in the Sarhad, nor
should any German or German agent be permitted to pass through their
territories.
Thus, when they left for their homes, on the morning of May 3rd, all
parties were, apparently, on excellent terms.
I wrote a despatch to headquarters at Simla, giving a short account
of the expedition and its results, at the same time bringing forward
the names of various officers, and other ranks, for good work done. I
also mentioned the fact that I did not know what to do in regard to
the traffic in slaves.
That evening Idu returned. He came straight to my room and told me I
had acted unwisely in disregarding his repeated warnings as to the
unreliability of Jiand and Halil Khan. He further added that some of
his own chosen men, who had been scouting around and picking up all
possible information, had met him, on his return to Kacha, and had
given him the following authentic and disquieting news. It was to the
effect that, hardly had Jiand got out of Kacha, that morning, with
promises of devotion and loyalty still hot upon his lips, than he
had halted and called a meeting of the Raider Chiefs, urging them to
repudiate their oaths, to collect all their fighting men as quickly
as possible, attack and take Khwash, and then to turn their attention
to my force, which he now openly said he knew to be a contemptibly
small one.
This was bad news indeed. We naturally knew that Khwash could be
captured in a few minutes. There were only five men there. We were
also quite conscious of the fact that we could be wiped out in less
than the same time if attacked in any force.
But the bad was leavened by the good, for the same report told us
that Juma Khan had resolutely and absolutely refused to fall in with
Jiand's plans. He was also reported to have said that the General
Sahib had kept every promise made to them, had spared their lives
and crops when he could have destroyed them, had treated them, from
the commencement of hostilities, as honourable foes, and later as
friends, and had finally given them considerable sums of money. He
had never broken his word, and he did not intend to begin doing so
now. Therefore, he was to be counted out of any plans of treachery
which Jiand might be meditating. Upon which expression of opinion he
had ridden off to his own country with his following.
But, even with Juma Khan eliminated, the situation was serious
enough, for I saw no chance of obtaining reinforcements from any
quarter in time to prevent a disaster. However, it was no use crying
over spilt milk. Things must be faced as they were.
After all, as I pointed out to Idu, Jiand could not do the
impossible. He and Halil Khan could not collect their scattered men
in a moment. The one thing left for us to do was to set off on the
morrow, march back to Khwash, endeavour to reach it before Jiand, and
organise our defence against his coming.
I have often since been blamed for an apparent foolhardiness in
trusting the Raiders sufficiently to let them go. But it must be
remembered that I had not come out to fight the Raiders--unless
events made it absolutely necessary to do so--but, rather, to make
friends with them and to keep the Germans, or their agents, from
coming through their country. Moreover, the force at my disposal was
very small indeed, and quite insufficient to keep these Raiders in
check when once the bluff was called. In other words, I should soon
lose the game if I persisted in treating them as enemies.
It must be understood, too, that the Sarhad was only the Southern
portion of my command, and that rumours were constantly coming in
that Germans, who had failed to get through into Afghanistan via the
South, were not only moving North towards Birjand, but were trying to
cross the border in that direction.
I knew, also, that it would soon be necessary to move North in order
to induce the Russians to keep a more careful guard than they had
been doing in the district North of Birjand, a district within their
sphere of influence in Persia.
Nor must it be supposed that I had not quite realised, before I let
the Raiders go, that I had not obtained all the safeguards I could
have wished. But I did not then, nor do I now, see that I had any
other alternative.
In any case I had gained one very definite advantage. I had won over
Juma Khan to our side; and it was through his territory that the
Germans would first have to pass in order to get through the Sarhad.
But, though Juma Khan had already given a practical example of his
determination to be loyal to his oath, I recognised that he would
be bolstered up in his loyalty if he felt there was apparent some
show of strength on our side. The loss of Khwash to Jiand would,
therefore, be a terrible confession of weakness.
Landon and the Sarhad-dar fully concurred with me that the one and
only wise plan to follow would be to march at daybreak with all
the forces we could command, and endeavour, by a series of forced
marches, to reach and enter Khwash before Jiand could take it.