FAILURE AND FRESH PLANS
Slave buying--A diet discovery--Poetic justice--Disposition
of prisoners--Incredible news--The Sawar's story--Disposal of
forces--The march to Kamalabad--Jiand gains his freedom--Retreat
to Khwash.
Whilst waiting instructions from the Indian Government as to the
disposal of our Sarhadi prisoners I turned my attention to the
slave question. This had long been one of my pre-occupations. The
chief trouble lay in the fact that not only the Yarmahommedzais
and the Gamshadzais, but also the friendly Rekis--the men of Idu's
tribe--possessed large numbers of these unfortunate women and
children. The consequence was that, when I announced that an order
was about to be issued commanding the surrender of all slaves
throughout the Sarhad, Idu openly groused.
He pointed out that it would be a great hardship on his
fellow-tribesmen. Many of them had not actually engaged in raids, but
had honourably bought, and paid for, the women from their captors,
and that, in consequence, they would not only be out of pocket to the
extent of the purchase price but would, also, be without servants to
do their menial work.
Idu's point of view was clear enough, but he was asked, "what about
the unfortunate slaves?"
The Sarhad-dar backed me up for all he was worth, and at last a
compromise was made. The order went forth that the slaves must all be
liberated without question, but that, as the Rekis had aided us in
every possible way, the Government would purchase their slaves at the
rate of three hundred rupees for a woman, seventy-five for a girl,
and twenty-five for a boy.
In due course slaves began to arrive from every direction, though
undoubtedly the order was ignored in every instance where it was
possible to do so. At last, in order to accelerate delivery, it was
necessary to promise to purchase all slaves, no matter by whom owned.
From that moment it was astonishing how the number increased, some
arriving on camels, others on foot. The condition of these wretched
women and children was pitiable in the extreme. Some of them were
those whom Izzat had captured during his recent big raid, but the
majority had been in captivity for many years and were in a wretched
state, half-starved, half-naked, and cowed, as the outcome of evident
ill-treatment. Many appeared to have lost all hope in life.
[Illustration: RAIDED SLAVES ON THE WAY TO THEIR HOMES.]
[Illustration: A PERSIAN GIRL CAPTURED BY JUMA KHAN, AND WHO ESCAPED
TO KHWASH.]
These poor folk were given quarters amongst the Khwashis, special
_jugis_ being set aside for them, and were gradually restored to
some semblance of civilised humanity. White army drill and brightly
coloured prints, were requisitioned from Kacha. With these
materials the Khwashi ladies made garments for our enfranchised
slaves. It was pitiful to see their joy and gratitude when told that
they were now free, and would shortly be sent back to their own homes.
One of our new guests became a constant source of wonder to us all.
She was a fine, well-grown, attractive young woman of about nineteen
or twenty, and had been a captive in the hands of a Gamshadzai Chief.
When she heard of the order that all slaves were to be released she
claimed her freedom, and her right to go to the British General
at Khwash, where safe asylum was offered to all Persian slaves.
Her Gamshadzai master, however, had not the slightest intention of
letting her go. She was far too useful.
But this Persian girl possessed both grit and powers of endurance.
One night she escaped in the darkness, and, though pursued for a
long distance by her captor, managed to elude him, and made good her
escape. Apparently she ran all through the night, covering fully
forty miles over rough precipitous hills and sandy plains. It seemed
an incredible feat--at first none of us believed the tale--but she
provided such striking evidence of it that we had at last to believe
her.
Poor soul, she was very dirty, her feet were bare and her clothing
torn to ribbons, but in her pride and joy at being free once more,
she was a moving picture.
The emaciated condition of these slaves filled us all with
commiseration, and when it was commented upon amongst ourselves the
Sarhad-dar remarked grimly, "You can't have seen their staple food.
If you had, you wouldn't wonder. They carry it in those little bags
they all bring in with them."
My curiosity was aroused and I asked some of the women to show me
what was contained in those bags. They promptly told me that they
contained the only food they were allowed by their captors, apart
from any green stuff they were themselves able to gather wild on the
hillsides. Some of the bags were then emptied, and quantities of
dried beetles were poured out on the ground.
Incredible as it seems close inquiry confirmed their statement--that
these dried beetles formed the greater part of their diet. With this
evidence one could no longer wonder that these poor creatures were in
such a wretched, cowed and hopeless state.
When as many slaves were collected as could be accommodated it became
needful to send them off in order to make room for others, and also
to obviate the necessity of feeding them. Moreover, now that this
batch had begun to regain its humanity, its members were very anxious
to return to their own homes, and when it was announced that we were
going to repatriate them under escort they fell to laughing and
crying with joy. When they were told that this would be done under
the charge of Izzat--the Yarmahommedzai who had captured so many of
them--their joy was turned to dismay, and they implored me not to
trust them to his tender mercies, but to send them with anyone else,
for he would surely take them back again into captivity.
"I have decided on Izzat," I replied, "because he is a Chief who has
plenty of camels of his own for your transport, and, as he stole
so many of you, he will know exactly where to return you. But you
shall hear yourselves what I am going to say to him. If, then, you
are not satisfied, I will choose someone else. You shall decide for
yourselves."
Accordingly Izzat was sent for, and informed of this order. I
considered it a piece of poetic justice that he should be the one to
restore the people whom he had stolen, and whose lives he had ruined.
Izzat listened grimly and I fancied I could detect in his dark eyes
a hint of what he proposed doing when these women were once again in
his power.
"And," I added quietly, "you will bring back and place in my hands
a letter from every one of the women I put in your care. I have the
names of all of them written down. These letters must be written
individually by each woman after she has safely reached her own home,
and must also state that she has been well used on the way. If there
is lacking a letter from any single one of these women, when you
return to Khwash, I shall hang every member of your family on the
tree under which I am now sitting, and you will then be able to count
their dead bodies for yourself. They will remain in my charge during
your absence."
Izzat could see that I meant what I said. "Sahib, I am in your hands.
I will do whatever you say."
I then turned to the eager Persian women.
"You have heard what has been said. You have listened to the
conditions made, and which Izzat has accepted. Are you willing now to
go with him?"
They all assured me they were, and a day or so later the cavalcade
set out, Izzat taking sufficient camels to allow for the
accommodation of all who were infirm and weak, and for the fitter
members to be able to ride turn and turn about, also for the portage
of sufficient food for their long trek of some one hundred and fifty
miles into the Narmashir.
As may be imagined it was a great relief to us all when we had seen
them safely on their way. I should here record the fact that, in due
course, Izzat returned, bearing letters from every one of the slaves
to the effect that they had safely arrived at their own homes. He
dared not risk the penalty he knew would have surely been exacted had
he failed in his trust.
After some little delay I received from Quetta an answer to my
request for instructions as to the disposal of the Sarhadi prisoners.
This answer directed that they should be sent straight to Quetta, a
distance of something like four hundred and fifty miles.
Naturally I had not sufficient troops to spare for an adequate escort
on such a long march, and sent an answer to that effect; but, at the
same time, suggested that if the Government could arrange for escort,
by Indian troops from Saindak (about nine marches from Khwash), I
could arrange to police them that distance.
After waiting another two weeks, word came that three hundred of the
106th Hazara Pioneers would be sent to Saindak to take them over, and
I was requested to send the prisoners there, under escort, without
delay. I was also informed that a wireless troop was immediately
being dispatched to Khwash, the purpose being to open up easier
communication with India. At this period the only method of such
communication was by wire from Robat, or Kacha, to Quetta, and camel
messengers had then to be employed to take messages from Robat,
or Kacha, to Khwash, a not always reliable, and often lengthy,
proceeding.
Accordingly, when I knew the exact date of the Hazaras' arrival at
Saindak, I made my own dispositions for sending the Sarhadi prisoners
there. It should be clearly understood that the whole of the rough,
roadless district lying between these two places was over-run by the
enemy, and, moreover, an enemy deeply resentful of the fact that so
many of their Chiefs were in our hands. It must be remembered, too,
that our numbers were, compared with theirs, ludicrously small.
We calculated, however, and reasonably I think, on the unlikelihood
of an attack by the Yarmahommedzais on the column, owing to the
presence of the more important prisoners, whose lives they would not
dare to endanger. It was, therefore, thought absolutely safe for the
wireless troop, who would be accompanied by a small escort only,
to come through to us at the same time as, and on a parallel route
to, that of the prisoners, though the two parties were marching in
opposite directions. The wireless troop had orders to come South
along the Eastern slopes of the Koh-i-taftan, and the prisoners were
to be marched North over the Western slopes of the same peak.
I decided also to send as large an escort as possible with the
prisoners, my object being to ensure against any contretemps prior to
their receipt by the Hazaras--a magnificent type of fighting man--for
conduct to India. I also had another reason, for I had been warned,
by repeated rumour, that Halil Khan was then occupied in gathering
his entire forces together for the rescue of Jiand and his men whilst
being marched northward to Saindak.
Our own garrison was, therefore, practically reduced to a skeleton,
whilst a force consisting of three troops of cavalry, seventy-five
infantry (about three-fourths of our total numbers) and two maxims,
under the command of two white officers, was detached for escort
duties.
This column started early one morning in July, and was to march
eighteen miles on the first day.
[Illustration: CAPTURED RAIDERS ON THE WAY TO KACHA.]
That same night, or rather early on the following morning, for
it was about two a.m., I was awakened in my tent and informed that
a sawar had just arrived with an urgent message for me. A moment
later one of the cavalrymen composing the escort, which had started
so gaily about twenty hours before, came in, breathing quickly and
heavily with the speed at which he had ridden. He told me that he
had ridden as he had never ridden before to bring me a message from
the officer commanding the prisoners' escort. It was to the effect
that every one of the prisoners, save Jiand and one of his sons, had
escaped in the darkness, and that he awaited further orders in the
circumstances.
For a moment I thought I was still asleep and dreaming. How could it
be possible that forty-five unarmed men had succeeded in escaping
from an armed, and numerically larger, escort?
But the stark truth was at last forced upon me, and it amounted to
nothing short of absolute disaster. The whole of my four months'
work had been undone in a few hours, and I was confronted with the
knowledge that I should now have to make a humiliating confession of
utter failure, and at the very moment when the work I had been sent
to do seemed so nearly and successfully finished.
The situation resolved itself into this; not only would it now be
impossible to hand over our enemy and ringleaders to the large armed
escort now on its way, and especially detailed to receive them, but
these escaped Chiefs would be able to reorganise and hearten up
their people, who had remained quiet during the past few weeks simply
because they had been without their leadership.
These same Chiefs, of course, knew to a man the strength of our
force, and were naturally bitter with resentment as an outcome of
their recent captivity. They would, I knew, now leave no stone
unturned in their endeavour to wipe us out. My feelings can be better
imagined than described.
The Sawar was questioned closely as to this disastrous affair, and I
obtained the following details.
The escort had pitched its camp before sundown on an open hillside.
An enclosure, or sort of rough zareba, had been constructed with a
few strands of barbed wire, and the prisoners, with the exception
of Jiand and his son, had been placed inside, and sentries set over
them. Jiand and his son had been kept apart, in a small _jugi_, with
a sentry in front of it.
It was a very dark, quiet night, and the camp had soon settled down
to sleep.
Suddenly, strange stealthy sounds had been heard close to the zareba,
and the sentries had fired wildly into the darkness. Instantly the
whole camp had been roused, and the officers had rushed to the
prisoners' quarters.
Lamps were brought, and it was quickly found that the zareba was
empty. What had happened seemed fairly obvious. The prisoners had
evidently taken off all their clothes and flung the heavier garments
over the barbed wire. This done, and acting in consort, they had
broken or borne it down by sheer weight. In any case the whole lot of
them had escaped, absolutely naked, leaving their clothes behind on
the barbed wire!
Of course an immediate search was instituted, but the Raiders
had escaped into the rough, broken hills during the few minutes
succeeding the alarm, and not a single one was re-taken. The only
prisoners now left in our hands were Jiand and his son.
After such a set-back a man may be pardoned for being at his wits'
end. Not only did it spell failure to keep faith with the Indian
Government in regard to the prisoners, but it became plain that the
wireless troop, whose safe passage I had practically guaranteed, was
now in peril; for they would, almost certainly, be attacked, as they
must by this time be right in the heart of the enemy territory, whose
fighting men would now be elated beyond bounds at their successful
coup.
I quickly realised that we must act without an instant's delay.
We must first rescue that wireless troop with its small escort at
any cost. The best thing to be done at the moment was to order the
prisoners' escort--who now had no one to escort! except Jiand and his
son--to proceed instantly in the direction along which the wireless
troop was coming, whilst Sanders and myself, with every man we could
collect after leaving some sort of garrison for Khwash--goodness
knows we were few enough already!--set out to join up with the
escort, which would have to march due East that day.
I could then take some of the men forming that escort and go in the
direction of Kamalabad with the object of holding off the Gamshadzais
under Halil Khan; I was convinced they would now, without question,
put into execution the threat they had so repeatedly made of trying
to rescue Jiand. As will be seen my objective was the Kamalabad
valley, where I should at least have a better chance of holding them
up than elsewhere.
The messenger was thereupon directed to return at once to the officer
commanding the escort, with a letter directing the new move and
telling him at what point I would intersect his march that evening.
As soon as he had been dispatched a servant was sent to awaken
Sanders, Idu and the Sarhad-dar, and summon them immediately to my
tent. When they were told the bad news their dismay was fully equal
to mine. The Sarhad-dar seemed to think the world had come to an end.
The situation was in any case quite black enough, and it was a very
depressed little party that an hour later set out from the camp.
It was not until well on into the evening that the force composing
the prisoners' escort joined us at the appointed _rendezvous_,
but when it did I proceeded to re-arrange the composition of
units without delay. I took twenty-five cavalry, some fifty of
the infantry, also the two machine guns, and ordered the officer
commanding, who was desperately downcast at the disaster, to march at
top speed with the force left him in the direction along which the
wireless troop must now be coming. His further orders, on getting in
touch, were to tell them what had happened, and, as I did not now
consider it safe for them to come at present to Khwash, to go back
with him to Saindak, where he was to hand over Jiand and his son to
the Hazaras now waiting to receive them.
He was further instructed to say that I was marching in another
direction, towards Kamalabad, in an endeavour to hold up Halil Khan
and the Gamshadzais, who, according to rumours reaching us that
evening, were on their way in great force to Gusht, at the end of the
Kamalabad valley.
My little force started then and there, marching a distance of
about twelve miles through the night, and reached Kamalabad before
daybreak. It must be remembered that campaigning under conditions
obtaining in a district such as the Sarhad is utterly different from
that of any other type of warfare.
Amongst my own little force, and especially amongst the camp
followers, were both friends and potential foes, traitors and spies.
In addition to this the whole population of the country was its
fighting force, nearly every man being armed and trained to fight.
Rumour, and news carried by runners, take the place of the dispatches
and newspapers of the West, the consequence being that one's
movements are conveyed from mouth to mouth immediately upon that
movement taking place. This fact will in itself account for our being
able to hear such constant and detailed news of both the enemy's
movements and intentions--and vice versa.
No sooner had we reached Kamalabad than we learned that Halil Khan
had just been there, but had taken to the Morpeish Hills as we
approached. He had every intention of fighting, but wanted to do it
on ground of his own choice. In any case he did not want to fight
in the open, where our Maxim guns would undoubtedly have given us a
great advantage.
It was a great relief to hear this, for it meant that we had
intercepted him, and now stood between him and the escort with
Jiand. It meant in effect that he could not attack it without first
meeting and defeating us. Jiand and his son at any rate--and, after
all, Jiand was the supreme Chief--would now be safely handed over at
Saindak.
But my satisfaction on this point was very short lived. Soon after
reaching Kamalabad another messenger, sent off post-haste by the
officer in charge of the escort, arrived with the news that they had
been attacked in force, and that Jiand and his son had been rescued!
I questioned the man closely as to what had happened, and discovered
that Jiand and his son had been actually snatched from the very
hands of their gaolers. The fight had been a long and hard one;
many men on our side had been killed, both the British officers
wounded, and many rifles and much ammunition captured. It seemed that
the whole force might have been annihilated but for the opportune
arrival on the scene of the wireless troop with their escort. The
Yarmahommedzais evidently thought this troop the advance guard of
reinforcements and retired, taking Jiand and his son with them.
I learned later that the rescue party consisted of nineteen of the
very men who had escaped from the prisoners' escort two nights
before. It appears that they had run all the way to Kamalabad naked,
had clothed and re-armed themselves, and had gone back to rescue
their Chief.
One could not but admire such a magnificent feat of daring and
endurance, even though it added enormously to the difficulties of our
own position.
The Gamshadzais, in all probability, already knew what had happened.
They would also know that I had brought only a very small detachment
to Kamalabad, that merely a beaten remnant of the escort, now without
British officers, was left on the slopes of the Koh-i-taftan, and
that there was a still smaller force in Khwash.
It was obviously hopeless now to attempt to fight where we were. It
was equally obvious that our best course would be to get back to
Khwash with all speed. Khwash still remained a dominating factor,
and was still in our hands. From that vantage point it might yet be
possible to collect our scattered forces, and obtain reinforcements.
Flushed with victory, and elated at his escape, Jiand would also
remember the importance of Khwash, and would doubtless soon be on his
way thither, if, indeed, he was not already marching upon it.
So, once again, it was to be a race between us for the capital of the
Sarhad.
And, as on that former occasion of a few months ago, we won the race,
but our return was a very different affair to that of our previous
triumphant entry.
[Illustration: _Sketch Map illustrating the march to Khwash and the
fighting in the Morpeish Hills._]