TREACHERY AND ITS SEQUEL
Further reinforcements--Entrenchments and gardens--Government
inquiries--Food supplies--An offer to Jiand--Murad and
straw--Shah Sawar again--Sentence--Idu's suggestion--Re-enter
the Rose Lady--News of Jiand's intentions--A vital moment--A
round-up--The Sarhad-dar's advice--A Bhusa hunt--Distrustful
wives.
During this rest in Khwash I was able to increase to some extent
the forces under my command. I obtained a whole squadron of the
28th Light Cavalry, under Colonel Claridge, and two machine guns
from Nasaratabad. In addition I obtained from Kacha a considerable
quantity of gun-cotton, with fuses, etc., and a supply of barbed
wire, of which, fortunately, there were large stores at Kacha.
The men were kept busy with their musketry training, and with the
improvements that were being made in and about the fort. We also
succeeded in creating a really creditable, and very useful, garden
outside the walls, with the help of a native gardener, whom I had
sent for from Kacha. He brought large quantities of seeds with him,
and it was amazing how, in so short a time, we were able to obtain
full-grown marrows, cucumbers, pumpkins, Indian corn, turnips,
carrots, lettuces and spinach. These fresh vegetables formed an
invaluable addition to, and variation of, a very monotonous diet. We
also sowed a considerable amount of barley of a kind which comes to
maturity and ripens within three months.
The men were immensely interested in their garden, but were still
more eager to toil on the serious work of improving our defences, and
in the building of barracks to obtain shelter from the sun.
The forces at my disposal were, at best, infinitesimal compared with
those the Raiders could collect, though, of course, the latter were
at the great disadvantage of being minus mountain or machine guns.
But supposing--as might happen at any moment--it became necessary to
divide my forces, part to go on any expedition, and part to remain in
defence of Khwash, the Raiders, if they chose to attack in numbers,
could, without question, recapture their capital.
I decided, therefore, to blow up the surrounding walls of the fort,
as well as the three smaller tourelles, leaving the tallest tower
alone standing. In places of these raised tourelles I made an
entrenched camp outside the site of the old walls. Peculiar folds in
the ground lent themselves well to my purpose, enabling me to place
the defensive lines along the tops of the folds. The interior of the
work was thus well concealed from view.
The high tourelle was then improved and strengthened, and a machine
gun placed on its top to command the whole of the camp below.
Those Raiders dwelling in the surrounding districts took a keen
interest in these changes, for they were under the impression that we
had only demolished the existing walls with the intention of building
stronger and higher ones, and asked me how high I intended to make
them.
As I did not think it wise to gratify their curiosity, I replied
that, when finished, it might be just possible to see the tops of
them! From this reply the rumour got abroad that I was making a vast
fortress, and, later on, the Persian Government sent urgent inquiries
as to why I had built a great fort in Persia without its permission.
It was, in consequence, difficult to persuade them that I had built
nothing, but, on the contrary, had blown up existing walls, and that
all that I had done in excess of this was to dig into the ground!
Although time was passing peacefully and busily in the organisation
of these various works, I was beginning to get very anxious about the
food supply of both men and beasts.
It was now the end of May and the heat was intense. The camels used
in the caravans bringing supplies from India found little or no
grazing between marches, and died in their dozens on the way, the
consequence being that but little of the supplies despatched from
India ever reached us.
Our horses began to die off in alarming numbers. The grass on the
slopes of the hills surrounding Khwash was of course quickly eaten
up, and we were reduced practically to nothing, not possessing even
straw as fodder. To make matters worse there were still three months
to wait before we could hope to obtain straw from the barley we had
sown. Altogether the position was beginning to be of an alarming
nature, and I began to wonder whether, though Jiand and all his men
had not been able to turn us out of Khwash, we might not be driven
out by slow starvation.
Something had to be done and done quickly. No stone must be left
unturned to save us from this pass, and I cast about for means of
feeding the animals other than by these failing supplies from India.
It was then that I suddenly remembered Jiand's crops at Kamalabad.
When, on the first occasion, he had surrendered there I had spared
not only the lives of himself and his followers but his crops as
well. Those crops I decided to call upon him to share with us now.
Accordingly, in the early part of June, I sent for him, and in a few
days he obeyed the summons, but was obviously reluctant, and very
morose.
I thereupon frankly told him the position with regard to the animals,
and said that I knew he must have vast quantities of bhusa from his
crops, for the bulk of which he could have no use, and asked him to
sell it.
The old villain refused point blank. I swallowed my anger as best I
could, and told him I would give four times the market price for it
if he would send it at once.
But he was obstinate, and persisted in his refusal, in spite of all
my offers.
As a matter of fact I had been told repeatedly that it was Jiand's
one hope and ambition that I would try conclusions with him in his
own part of the country, where his secret hiding places, and defences
amidst the difficult hill country, were only known to his own tribe.
Moreover, so I was also told, Halil Khan was continually urging him
to force me to fight. Halil Khan himself was itching to wipe out the
humiliation and discredit they had both suffered as an outcome of
being bluffed twice when they could actually have wiped us out.
Indignant as I was there was nothing to be done but to let him go.
I had promised him safe conduct to and fro; I, therefore, had no
alternative.
But there was still another stone that could be turned. About five
miles distant from the valley of Kamalabad, Jiand's stronghold, lay
another fertile valley, Karsimabad, the property of an old Chief
named Murad. This old man had at one time been the leader of the
Sarhad, until Jiand had deposed him from his leadership and assumed
it himself. Although Murad was outwardly on friendly terms with
Jiand--he was not strong enough to show himself otherwise--I had
heard many hints of the old ex-Chief's jealousy of and resentment
towards Jiand.
I, therefore, sent for Murad and asked him if he would sell his
straw, telling him that Jiand had refused to do business with me.
The old fellow assured me I could have all the straw I wanted, and
that I could have it for nothing. Of course I refused his generosity,
told him I would pay him what I had offered Jiand, and instructed him
to get it ready as soon as possible, when I would send my camels to
bring it in.
Before Murad, who was obviously delighted with such a good piece of
business, departed he gave me a word of warning which fully confirmed
all I had heard of Halil Khan's and Jiand's smouldering enmity.
"If they can kill you, Sahib, they will. And they will most surely
fight against you and try to kill you before many weeks are past."
It was about this date that repeated confirmations reached me of
Shah Sawar's persistent treachery. Up to the present I had elected
to ignore the incident of his letters to the Germans. They had never
reached their destinations, so no harm had been done so far. It had
been my constant wish, despite all the warnings I had received,
to make friends with the Yarmahommedzais. But it was now time, I
considered, to take some notice of Shah Sawar's activities, and this
seemed a suitable moment to charge him bluntly concerning his traffic
with the Germans.
Accordingly he was summoned to appear before a drum-head court
martial consisting of myself and two other officers, to be tried
for repeated acts of treachery, and particularly for communication
with the Germans, coupled with the information supplied to the same
quarter that I had few troops, and that, if they (the Germans) came
to the Sarhad it would be easy for them, with his help, to overwhelm
my whole force.
As usual, Shah Sawar swore he was innocent of all these charges and
pointed out that it was obvious he could not possibly have been
guilty, as he could not write.
Then I played a trump card, for I produced the mullah (priest) who
had written the letters at his dictation, and who had wandered, a day
or so before, into the camp.
When Shah Sawar caught sight of the mullah he shrugged his shoulders
and muttered, "Kismet." He knew the game was up, confessed at once
that he had dictated the letters, and had put his mark to them.
There was naturally only one sentence that could be passed upon him,
and he knew it. He was found guilty and condemned to be shot. He
implored me to give him another chance, but I was tired of his broken
promises, and told him flatly that he had offended once too often.
He had been convicted by a duly constituted court martial, and the
finding of the court must stand. I told him also that his time was
short, and advised him to write any farewell messages he wanted to
send, and to make his will as quickly as possible. The mullah was
also given leave to write anything that Shah Sawar wished to dictate.
As I passed from the tent I gazed hard at Shah Sawar. The sweat was
pouring down his face--few men can hear the sentence of immediate
death without emotion of some sort--but he did not utter a sound. It
must be admitted that he bore himself like a man, as, with a gesture
of resignation, he told the mullah he wanted him to start writing at
once.
Whilst he was writing out his last wishes, I made my way to the
Durbar tent to wait until he had finished. On my way I met Idu and
told him the result of the court martial. Idu had an uncanny gift of
intuition and I am certain realised how much I disliked my obvious
but uncongenial duty. He looked at me strangely and then disappeared.
Some little time later I was leaving the tent when I caught sight of
the Gul-Bibi, Shah Sawar's wife, dressed in her very best attire,
running towards me. Directly she reached me, she fell on her knees
and, touching my feet with her hands, broke into lamentations.
"What is it?" I asked, trying to speak sternly. "What have you to
say?"
The Gul-Bibi had a great deal to say! She said that Idu had gone to
her and told her of the sentence that had been passed on her husband
and she had come to plead for his life. She used every argument she
could think of to persuade me to reverse the finding of the court,
and finally went bail in her own person for the future good behaviour
of the handsome rascal, if only he might have another chance.
"I swear to you," she said passionately, "that if ever my fool of a
husband raises his hand against you again or breaks his word to you,
I will shoot him with my own hands. I, the Gul-Bibi, swear it."
It occurred to me that after all it might be politic to temper
justice with mercy. Shah Sawar undoubtedly had great influence
and the concession of his life might be a turning-point in the
determination of his tribe to be loyal to the British cause.
I said that she had accomplished what no one else could have done and
that her eloquence had persuaded me to grant her her husband's life.
"But this is the very last time I will show him any mercy. Shah Sawar
has proved himself a traitor and has broken his oath again and again.
I am only letting him go now on your guarantee of his good behaviour
in the future. If ever he breaks faith again, it will be for the very
last time. You may go now and tell him what I have said and tell him
that he owes his life entirely to you."
I directed her to the tent where she would find Shah Sawar waiting
for death, and presently she returned with her husband by her side.
He was obviously very subdued and very impressed. His gratitude was
genuine enough, anyhow for the moment, and once more he promised
that he would never fight again--etc., etc.
The next day a message was received from Murad to the effect that he
had collected a fine quantity of bhusa, and that it was piled up in
fourteen great stacks ready for transport, if camels could be sent to
fetch it.
Word was sent back that I would go myself on the morrow to Karsimabad
with the camels, and a small escort, in order that it might be
possible to thank and pay him in person.
Accordingly orders were given for the escort and camels to be ready
to start early the next morning.
But, that night, news was brought by one of Landon's intelligence men
which caused a modification of these plans.
It should here be mentioned that Major Landon had, shortly before,
been obliged to leave me. It will be remembered that he was one of
but three Intelligence Officers in Persia, and had therefore to
return to his duties. His place as my Brigade Major had been taken by
a very able Staff Officer, Major Sanders of the 36th Sikhs.
The news the scout brought me was to the effect that Jiand knew all
about my proposed visit to Karsimabad, and was planning to attack in
force, and capture me. He had been waiting for a good opportunity to
lure me out of Khwash, and now felt he had his chance.
"Well, he shall have it," I replied. "Only, we will disappoint him.
For instead of going with only a small escort, we'll take a good part
of our entire army, and the guns. He'll then have his work cut out."
The consequence being that when we marched out on the following
morning we made an imposing spectacle. I determined to do the thing
thoroughly, so took a considerable number of infantry, the cavalry,
guns and a large convoy of camels.
We had only marched a short distance when one of the scouts came in
with the information that all the bhusa at Karsimabad had been burned.
At first I could hardly believe my ears and told him he must be
mistaken; that perhaps some of it had been burned by accident, but
that fourteen stacks, the number Murad had mentioned as collected,
could not all have been burned by this means. But the man proceeded
to tell me that it was no accident. He himself had seen the
scorched ground upon which the stacks had stood. They had been
built sufficiently far apart to make it impossible to be burned by
one setting light to another. Each stack had been separately and
individually fired, and Murad had proof that it had been done by
Jiand's men.
As may be imagined, I was nearly beside myself with rage at the news.
It would entail untold suffering amongst our unfortunate beasts, who
were already underfed. The act was unforgivable, especially when we
were just hoping to obtain a safeguard against the worst months of
the year.
The march of the column was immediately quickened. There remained but
one thing to do--to go forward and ascertain the truth. If Jiand had
really been guilty of this act he should be accommodated as regards
fighting. So far everything possible had been done to create friendly
relations with him, and over and above this he had been, throughout,
generously and leniently treated. But patience has its limits, and
there could be no more leniency.
Despite the burning heat we managed to cover the distance in record
time, and were within five miles of Karsimabad when the advance guard
reported the enemy in sight, and in large numbers.
"Come out to capture me, I suppose!" I remarked to Sanders. "Jiand
is, probably, still under the impression that we are coming with only
a small escort. I wonder what he'll do when he sees the column--and
the guns?"
What he did do we were soon to know. The old villain must have
indulged in one short look to realise, once again, that he had
been foiled in his attempt at a surprise; for I knew, by current
rumour, that he stood in deadly terror of what the guns could do.
He had certainly never seen them working, but had heard the rattle
of the Maxims at Koh-i-taftan, and had a wholesome dread of their
destructive possibilities. When, therefore, the cavalry and the guns
came into view, instead of attacking, he sent a messenger ahead to
meet me, and to ask whether he might come and do me honour!
"Tell him," I replied, still furiously angry, "that it is not a
case of may he come--he must come himself and instantly. I am in no
playful mood as he will find to his cost."
A few minutes later we saw Jiand, accompanied by two or three men
ambling towards us on his camel. Immediately on his arrival Jiand
assured me that, hearing I was in the neighbourhood, he had come with
his followers to do me honour.
"Honour be damned!" I retorted. "What do you mean by burning the
bhusa I have bought from Murad? Was that also by way of doing me
honour?"
Jiand protested his innocence. Was it possible that anything that
belonged to the General Sahib should, or could, be burned? And how
could he (the General) so wrong him (Jiand) as to suspect him of any
such offence? If the bhusa really was burned, he swore that he was
innocent, and had had nothing to do with it.
"We'll soon prove whether you had or not," I returned. "I am on my
way to Karsimabad to inquire into it. You will go there too, and if
I find you had a hand in it, as I am convinced you had, you shall
regret it to your dying day. Go on in front of me, and wait for me in
Karsimabad."
With a sullen face Jiand obeyed, and our own force continued its
march.
Arrived within three-quarters of a mile of Murad's place we halted
at what appeared to be a favourable place to camp. This represented
a hard flat piece of ground at the base of a small hill. A picket on
the hill-top would command the surrounding country and so prevent
surprise.
The bulk of the force was left and I went forward with an escort of
about a dozen infantrymen and some fifteen cavalrymen.
At the entrance to Karsimabad I noticed a huge tree with a mud
platform placed round its base, close beside the ruins of a small
fort. This seemed to offer an ideal spot upon which to hold the
inquiry, for the tree afforded a wide circle of shade from the
burning heat.
Accordingly I sat down, with Sanders and the Sarhad-dar on either
side, whilst the cavalry accompanying us dismounted and remained
behind the tree. The infantry-escort formed up on our right.
Murad, who appeared greatly distressed, came forward and told me that
all the bhusa he had collected for us had been burned down, thus
confirming the report I had already received.
"Who did it?" I thundered. "Can you produce the man who dared to burn
my property?"
To my great surprise Murad said he could. He had captured the man, a
Yarmahommedzai.
Scarcely had the man been brought forward when, from every quarter,
appeared men armed with rifles. A moment before the place, excepting
for ourselves, had been empty. These men seemed to have sprung
out of the ground, but must, actually, have been concealed in the
adjoining fields. In an instant I could tell that they were picked
men of Jiand's lashkar. There must have been between one hundred and
fifty and two hundred of them. They came forward and squatted down
in a circle close in front of us; Jiand, and his kinsman and evil
genius, a man named Nur-Mahommed, placing themselves well in the
foreground.
In a flash I realised the tactical error I had made in leaving the
main force three-quarters of a mile away, and before I had made
certain that Jiand's men had not occupied Karsimabad. These men held
their magazine rifles, which were always loaded, across their knees.
From where we sat, I now realised, and too late, that I could not
see, or signal to, my own small force, and that, except by a miracle,
it would be equally ignorant of these proceedings. I glanced quickly
behind me at the fifteen or sixteen cavalrymen I had brought, saw
that they had dismounted and were holding their lances in their
hands, whilst their rifles remained in the buckets on the off-sides
of the horses. A bad position for getting at them when dismounted and
at a moment's notice.
It was obvious that I had allowed myself to be caught in a trap. We
all knew it, though not one man with me showed it by the quiver of an
eyelid.
I turned to the man whom Murad had brought forward and placed before
me as the burner of the stacks of straw.
"How dare you burn my bhusa? What reason had you for doing it, and
who told you to do it?"
Before the man, who was trembling like a leaf, had time to answer,
Nur-Mahommed sprang up and shouted:
"The country is ours and everything in it. We will burn the bhusa, or
burn anything we like."
And he glared at Sanders and myself in a way that left no doubt as to
his meaning.
I told him angrily to sit down, as I was not talking to him. For
answer he assumed a threatening attitude, and openly sneered at me
for attempting to give orders I could not enforce.
I ordered a sepoy to arrest him.
What followed all happened in a flash.
The sepoy had scarcely moved a step to obey when every one of Jiand's
men leapt to their feet and brought their rifles to the present.
I must confess to having acted automatically. Indeed, there was no
time to think or do otherwise.
I literally roared at them. "How dare you, you dogs? Sit down this
instant!"
I reached out my hands towards Jiand who was close to me, and, in a
paroxysm of rage, forced him down by my side.
"Sit down!" I roared again into the dark faces of the men surrounding
us.
Hesitation and doubt spread amongst that threatening crowd--and the
bulk of them sat down!
They were now given no time to recover their poise. Sanders and the
escort were at once ordered to disarm the men who remained standing.
Like a flash my men darted forward, only too thankful to take action
instead of waiting to be shot down, and in a twinkling had wrenched
their rifles from the scowling brutes who were hesitating as to
whether they would shoot first or submit. They were looking to their
Chief for a lead. But Jiand, that once invincible warrior, had lost
his nerve, and now sat cowering, unable either to make a decision or
dominate his own men.
So, whilst they stood, furtive and undecided, they were disarmed and
left helpless.
"Now," I shouted, turning to those who had sat down, "get up and
place your rifles against that wall, there," pointing to the wall of
the mud fort. "And if there is the slightest sign of treachery I will
shoot you down like the dogs you are."
Like a lot of beaten sheep they got up and obeyed.
The danger was over before we had had time fully to realise it.
I then proceeded to tell the Raiders what I thought of them in
language which has since been reported as hectic. They were told that
their lives and their property had been spared again and again; that
over and over again their liberty had been given them when they
should have been kept as prisoners. But this time their offence was
beyond forgiveness and they should now have a taste of the treatment
they deserved.
I then ordered my escort to seize and tie the men together, and drive
them back to the camp. A certain number of the Yarmahommedzais leapt
up at this, and, before they could be stopped, had bolted into the
high-grown crops surrounding the place. But we caught a good sixty
of them, and these were bound by their hands in groups of three by
their turbans. They were then marched off to the main column, which
had remained in blissful ignorance of these happenings a short
three-quarters of a mile away.
Sanders and I remained where we were, and a few minutes later the
Sarhad-dar returned, wiping the sweat from his face.
"That was a close shave, Sahib," he said, and I could see that
his hands were shaking, despite the fact that he had behaved with
the utmost bravery during the crisis. "Though so many got away,
amongst those we have captured are nearly all the leading men of
the Yarmahommedzais. Without them the tribe will be as men without
leaders, and we need not fear them. I have searched and questioned
some of them, and I have indisputable proofs that they came to
capture you. They wanted you--alive, not dead, that they might be
able to dictate their own terms."
"Well," I said disgustedly, "I've had enough in the way of trying to
make friends with them. I know that both you and Idu have advised all
along that it would be of no use, but I have hoped against hope. Now
the Indian Government must deal with them, and I shall advise the
Government that the best thing to do will be to send them to India
and imprison them there."
The Sarhad-dar replied, with heartfelt relief, "I am thankful you
have at last come to that decision. It's the only chance of obtaining
peace in the Sarhad. Juma Khan has already given ample proof of his
loyalty, and Halil Khan, untrustworthy as he is, would never dream
of fighting the Sirkar alone. If I may advise I would suggest that
whoever is ultimately set free Nur-Mahommed is never liberated. He
is Jiand's evil genius. Without him you might have won over Jiand to
real loyalty, but so long as Nur-Mahommed, who is a devil, is always
whispering in his ear you can never trust Jiand to keep any oath."
Before we left Karsimabad I paid Murad some compensation for his
straw, for he had had the best intentions.
When we reached the main column, which was now agog with curiosity, I
once again combed out our prisoners, retaining some forty-three and
letting the others go. It must be remembered that we were desperately
short of food ourselves and I did not want a single unnecessary mouth
to feed.
But I was not going back to Khwash without a supply of fodder for our
animals. I, therefore, told Jiand that as he had burned the bhusa I
had bought, and had refused his own at the generous price offered, I
should now take his without payment.
So we made a détour by way of Kamalabad, where my men immediately
started hunting for straw and wheat. We eventually found that the
latter had been carefully hidden by Jiand, and in a highly ingenious
way. The wheat had been put into sacks, and buried in the sand dunes.
The sand had then been carefully smoothed over, leaving nothing to
show that it had been disturbed.
But, before our search, I asked the Sarhad-dar, "How on earth will
the men find the sacks?" fearful lest, after all, Jiand had foiled me.
"They know how to find it," he replied. "Give them the order to
search for it and you'll see what they'll do. They know the trick
well enough."
Accordingly, orders were issued to search for, and carry off, all the
sacks of wheat and all bhusa that could be found.
In an instant they were at work amongst the sand dunes, prodding in
the sand with their cleaning rods. Every now and again a man would
shout "Here!" and after a few minutes' digging a sack would be
dragged to light.
It was immensely interesting to watch this unearthing of plunder, and
after a while I called "Give me a cleaning rod and let me try."
But I proved a hopeless exponent of the game. Prod as I would, I
could find nothing, though the smiling Rekis would prod where I had
drawn blank and fish out several sacks. This wheat was a great find,
and was loaded on to the camels with the greatest care.
From Kamalabad I sent a couple of men ahead with messages to Colonel
Claridge--who had remained behind in charge of Khwash--telling him
briefly what had happened, and asking him to prepare a barbed wire
cage for the prisoners now being brought in.
So promptly did he set to work that, when we marched in next day,
there was ready as perfect a cage as any commander could wish to have.
We were given a great reception by the garrison, delighted at the
plunder we had brought. The bhusa meant the saving of our animals,
and the wheat was invaluable to ourselves, as our supply of flour had
begun to run very short.
The wheat was given to the ladies of Khwash to grind outside
the camp. These industrious females all possessed little stone
hand-mills, and, for many days afterwards, the air was filled with
the sound of these at work. These same ladies implored me to pay them
in person for their work, because, they informed me, their men-folk
were not to be trusted. It appeared on inquiry that when the men were
paid they were apt to put the wages of their wives' labour into their
own pockets. So, each afternoon, for some days, we had a pay-parade
of Khwashi ladies to receive in rupees the wages they had honestly
earned.
While I was waiting for Government instructions as to the disposal of
our Yarmahommedzai prisoners I made these work at strengthening the
camp. It was not easy to get much work out of them as they strongly
resented being put to what they considered to be a degradation. They
maintained it to be a gross indignity for a fighting man to be made
to work with his hands, and contended that all manual labour should
be performed by lower caste people such as the Khwashis.
But honest work did not hurt them, for, during their imprisonment,
their health improved to a remarkable extent. This result was
probably due to the increased variety of their rations, and to
the vegetables grown in our new garden which they shared with the
garrison.