SUCCESS IN MINIATURE
The night attack--The Hazaras arrive--Jiand retires--We march on
the Sar-i-drokan valley--Cavalry strategy--"Gushti's" decision
and opinion--"The Hole of Judgment"--Attack and retirement--A
lost and regained water-supply--The Sarhadis as humorists--The
mud fort--Halil Khan's arrival--The fight at dawn--Exit Halil
Khan--A prophet--The Hazaras' request.
Immediately on re-entering Khwash Colonel Claridge was sent out,
with all the men it was possible to spare, in an endeavour to find,
and bring back, the strayed remnants of the prisoners' escort. In
the meantime a camel messenger was dispatched to Saindak asking the
O.C. of the Hazaras to march South to our help at once, and to take a
route by which they might, with luck, join up with Colonel Claridge.
A messenger was also dispatched to Colonel Dale, then commanding at
Kacha, requesting him to send us all the supplies and ammunition he
could spare, and personally to do his utmost to expedite the Hazaras,
who were also in his immediate sphere of command.
Hardly had Colonel Claridge and his small detachment left Khwash when
Jiand, with a large force, took up his position among the low hills
about three miles to the North-East of the town, and Shah Sawar,
who, as I might have expected, was now in full and open revolt,
worried us from the hills to the South-West.
But we were not going to admit yet that we were beaten. Daily we left
the camp for the open as a challenge to Jiand to come out of his
hills and fight, though it must be confessed that we hoped he would
not accept it.
At last, after a good deal of apparent indecision, the two Chiefs
made up their minds to attack us, and by night.
I must explain that in order, as far as possible, to deceive the
enemy as to our numbers--or rather lack of them--the whole of our
newly entrenched camp remained occupied by day; nor did we spare any
device likely to give the impression of a larger garrison. But at
night the men were withdrawn to a small, strongly fortified sector
of the camp, so as to consolidate our strength. One of our Maxims
had been placed in this sector, the other on the only tourelle left
standing, and trained on the camp.
As we were always expecting a night attack, we were thus well
prepared for it when it came. Jiand made his at the North-East
and Shah Sawar at the South-West angles of the camp: and when the
presence of large numbers of the enemy became apparent round these
areas, our men started to shoot wildly, but were quickly steadied,
and ordered to hold fire. The whole of our depositions had been made
with the object of allowing the enemy, if the attack came by night,
actually to enter the camp, and so enable us to deal with them in
denser formation.
The outer defences were rushed, and from the temporary pause that
occurred it was clear that the enemy was surprised at finding no
defence. This was of course the vital moment at which to let them
know we were alive.
From my position in the defensive section of the camp I had had a
telephone line laid to the tourelle. It was, therefore, possible to
order the two Maxims to open simultaneous fire, and, at the same
time, a heavy rifle fire right into the heart of those undefended
sectors.
The enemy recognised that a night surprise had failed, and were
evidently not inclined to continue the fight under conditions so very
unfavourable to themselves, so beat a hasty retreat. The night was
very dark, and so the results of our fire were not observable. Rumour
said that the enemy had suffered heavily in dead and wounded, but
they must have removed their casualties as there was nothing to be
seen in the morning. The results were all I desired, as we were not
attacked again.
Three or four days later we were much elated to learn that a junction
had been effected between Colonel Claridge, the remnant of the
prisoners' escort, and the three hundred men of the 106th Hazara
Pioneers under Major Lang. The same information showed that they were
marching together, as quickly as possible, on Khwash, and would
probably be in that day. This was good news indeed.
When they did arrive my spirits rose higher still. The Hazaras were
a splendid body of men, all spoiling for a fight, and I promptly
arranged that they should have it. It will be remembered that the
Hazaras are Shiahs, hence their eagerness to blot out as many of the
Sunni Sarhadis, per man, as they could manage.
Directly Jiand became aware of their arrival he realised that it
would be simply waste of time to remain in the neighbourhood of
Khwash. He had now not the slightest hope of capturing it, so
withdrew, with all his forces, to the Sar-i-drokan valley, which, it
will be remembered, was his Summer haunt. This valley lies parallel
with the Kamalabad valley, but on the farther side of the Morpeish
Hills, and is bounded on its Northern side by the Sar-i-drokan Range.
It seemed now that there might be a good chance of fighting Jiand
with real hope of success, and with the elimination of bluff, upon
which it would no longer be of any use to rely.
Could we but defeat him in a square and open fight our past failures
would be amply avenged, and British prestige again in the ascendant.
[Illustration: ON THE MARCH TOWARDS GUSHT AND THE MORPEISH HILLS.]
So, with this object in view, messages were sent telling him to look
to himself, for we were coming, not only to fight him, but to lift
all his herds. Jiand replied with the defiant message that he was
quite ready for us, and that he knew how to defend his herds, as well
as his men, from all comers.
The Hazaras were given a couple of days' rest after their long, rapid
march, and we then set out. The combined force now consisted of the
three hundred Hazaras, a squadron of cavalry, two mountain and two
machine guns and some Rekis. The remnant of our original force and
two machine guns were left in Khwash, under the command of Colonel
Claridge.
The British officers with me were Major Sanders (Brigade Major),
Major Lang, Captain Moore-Lane, Lieutenant Bream of the Hazaras,
Lieutenant English with the guns, and Captain Brownlow in command of
the cavalry. We started on a scorching hot day, the 28th of July,
with Jiand's herds in the valley of the Sar-i-drokan as objective.
There were two ways of entering this valley, which is about
seventy-five miles long, more or less closed at either end by a
bottle-neck formation of hills, and protected along the whole length
of its sides, as already described, by the precipitous Morpeish and
Sar-i-drokan Ranges.
We fully realised that the entry to this valley would, in all
probability, be a tough proposition, as the entrances could be easily
defended, and would therefore be hard to force. The North-Western
gorge, one of the two by which the valley could be entered, was
called the Dast-Kird, and was very narrow. Jiand could, therefore,
easily hold us in this direction. For, in an attack upon it, cavalry
would only be an incumbrance, and, owing to the perpendicular sides
of the gorge, and to the curious convexities of the hill-sides which
obscured the view from below, the guns would fail in their proper
sphere of usefulness.
Yet it would be necessary to enter the valley by that gorge, or by
the alternative one at the South-Eastern end, and close to a place
called Gusht. But this second gorge was almost as difficult of
access, if defended, as that of the Dast-Kird.
It will be well to explain also that here, in the Sarhad, victory
is attained more by the number of ramas--herds of goats and
sheep--captured than by the number of men killed. It will be seen,
therefore, that if we were to claim, and to be accredited with, a
victory over Jiand, it became essential to capture the whole, or the
greater part, of his herds.
This we well knew would be a difficult matter, but it would have to
be done, despite Idu's doubts on the point.
"If you try to go in by the Dast-Kird, Sahib, Jiand will send his
herds out by Gusht. If, on the other hand, you try to enter by Gusht,
it will probably be fatal. Not only will Jiand send his herds out
by the Dast-Kird, but as Gusht stands on the border of Halil Khan's
territory he also will doubtless take you on, whilst it will only be
a comparatively short distance for Jiand to make his dash through
the Dast-Kird and so down to Khwash. While he is attacking the few
men you have left in Khwash, you will be left at Gusht with Halil
Khan guarding the defile!"
For once Idu had become a croaker, but we were not in the mood to
listen to him.
We camped out in the open, but under the lea of the Morpeish Hills,
and from out of those hills we knew that hundreds of eyes were
watching our every movement.
At this stage I sent for Captain Brownlow and ordered him to march
with the cavalry, while it was still light, for several miles in the
direction of the Dast-Kird, at the same time making as big a display
as he could; but, when night fell, to rejoin us as quickly and
noiselessly as possible.
This little piece of strategy will be plain to the reader. When the
enemy saw our cavalry, apparently going in the direction of the
Dast-Kird, he would conclude that we intended to attack at that
point. Jiand would, therefore, concentrate in that direction to
defend the pass, and to prepare the ground for battle on the morrow.
We, meantime, would be marching with all speed in the opposite
direction--towards Gusht.
Accordingly, Captain Brownlow, making a fine show with his cavalry,
set out towards the Dast-Kird, and continued in that direction till
night-fall. But he went one better than his instructions. He found
and collected a quantity of dried-up scrub, and this he set fire to
in patches, to give the impression that our whole force was camping
there on its way to the Dast-Kird. This done he returned to camp
under cover of darkness.
Jiand fell into the trap. Warned by his scouts of what they imagined
to be taking place he moved off with his force of something between
one thousand and fifteen hundred fighting men, and actually marched
all night towards the Dast-Kird. To safeguard his herds he sent
them off in the opposite direction, towards Gusht. The position now
amounted to this. Jiand's herds, on the farther side of the Morpeish
Hills, and ourselves on the near side, were hurrying as fast as
we could towards the Gusht defile, whilst Jiand and his men were
hastening in the opposite direction--towards Dast-Kird. Thus it was
that, by the time Jiand realised the trick that had been played upon
him, we had gained a full two marches in the race for the defile.
Gusht--the town mentioned as being just outside the gorge of the
same name--belonged to a Raider Chief with a name so difficult to
pronounce that I never achieved it, and so was forced to call him
"Gushti." The name has stuck to him I believe ever since. This Raider
was at the head of about two hundred fighting men, and claimed to be
a complete free lance, and to owe allegiance neither to Jiand, Halil
Khan, nor anyone else. Gusht boasted a mud fort of some size, and
from this stronghold "Gushti" raided at will.
I had been told that "Gushti" was prepared to join any force--as a
free lance--if bent on an expedition which appealed to his taste.
We were, in consequence, up against the fact that, if Jiand reached
Gusht first, "Gushti" would undoubtedly be persuaded to join him. On
the other hand, if we were first on the spot, it might be possible to
bribe him into throwing in his lot with us.
The distance between Kamalabad, where we had first camped, and
Gusht is about sixty miles, and the distance between Kamalabad and
Dast-Kird is approximately fifteen miles. It will be understood,
then, that while Jiand was marching the fifteen miles between
Kamalabad and Dast-Kird we were moving fifteen miles in the opposite
direction. When, therefore, he learned the truth as to the position,
we were thirty miles ahead of him--a useful start. On learning his
error Jiand turned and came hot-foot in pursuit of us along the
farther slopes of the hills. And such good progress did he make,
despite the difficulties of the ground, that he came very near to
overtaking us, though, fortunately, not quite. The prize offered for
the race was a big one, the unopposed passage of the Gusht defile,
plus the active, or passive, assistance of "Gushti."
On the third day's march we approached, and deployed our force to
give it as big a frontage as possible. This was done to impress
"Gushti." As usual, we had sent messengers on ahead. These invited
"Gushti" to join us, and pointed out the uselessness of opposition
as Jiand was hopelessly behind, and promised large rewards if he
decided to join us of his own free will.
When we arrived "Gushti" came out to meet us, all smiles and
pleasantness, and assured me that he had not the slightest idea
of opposing us, but that he would prefer not to fight against his
old friend Halil Khan. He undoubtedly held him in wholesome dread.
He also warned me that we were in for a big thing if we really
meant fighting. Jiand might be behind, but not so very far, for,
as usual, news of our proceedings had spread ahead of us. Jiand,
he continued, with a very large force, was close on our heels,
though on the other side of the range; whilst the Gamshadzais, under
Halil Khan, were gathered in large numbers on the Southern slopes
of the Safed-koh--about two marches away to the North of the Gusht
defile--and were ready to attack us at any moment.
He admitted, however, that we had gained one great advantage, namely
an unopposed passage through the defile.
We spent a very short time in Gusht, which boasted a considerable
number of mud huts, as well as the fort already mentioned. There were
also several karezes, and a fair number of date palms dotted about,
which gave a picturesque appearance to the place. In addition, there
was a spring which "Gushti" insisted on our seeing, and which was
supposed to possess extraordinary qualities.
This spring gushes out of the top of a dome-shaped rock, and close
beside it, also in the rock, is a hole called "The Hole of Judgment."
If a man has been accused of wrongdoing, and is brought to this
hole, a sure test of his innocence or guilt can be obtained. If, on
thrusting his hand into the hole, he is able to draw it out again, he
is innocent. If he cannot perform the feat he is guilty. This appears
to be an unfailing method of obtaining absolution for their sins.
We passed through the defile that evening, though we had already had
a long march, for I did not want to risk losing the advantage we had
gained. Once through the neck we debouched into comparatively open
ground, and, after continuing our march for some three miles, halted
and encamped by the side of a fine kareze.
That same night Jiand arrived at a point only five miles distant.
We had not, therefore, won the race with much to spare. Later
information showed that he had travelled night and day, and was
deeply depressed to find that, owing to his initial mistake, we had
passed, unopposed, what should have been a formidable barrier.
The next morning we advanced about three miles along the valley,
subject to a certain amount of sniping which grew worse as we
proceeded. We encamped in a strong position by a spring. We were
fully aware that, at any moment, the Yarmahommedzais in front of
us might join hands with the Gamshadzais. Their combined forces
would then number anything between two thousand to two thousand five
hundred men.
We now learned that a large number of the Gamshadzai herds had been
sent to a place called Makn-tuk in the Safed-koh hills beyond the
Saragan defile. I decided to attack in the direction of Makn-tuk.
Accordingly, at about five o'clock on the following morning, we
attacked the Gamshadzais' position by the Saragan defile, but at the
outset the opposition proved far greater than we had anticipated,
and, though this attack was pushed till eleven o'clock, the main body
had then only advanced about half a mile.
I then realised that it would be futile to hope to push on to
Makn-tuk, and, much against my will, withdrew the scattered forces,
some of which were already engaged far up on the hill-sides. With the
help of covering fire from the Maxim and mountain guns, we withdrew
with comparatively small loss to our last camping ground.
The Hazaras were very disappointed at this order to retire, for
they declared that, had they been allowed to advance, they would,
most certainly, have succeeded in knocking out the opposition and
winning through to Makn-tuk. But during our passage through that
region at a later date these fire-eaters were better able to gauge
the extraordinary difficulty of the terrain, and had to admit that it
would have been impossible to fight a way through.
In the meantime a body of the enemy had moved down from the hills,
and had cut off our only available water supply by capturing the
picket-post guarding the spring before mentioned.
This was serious and I immediately rode forward with an escort of
about a dozen cavalrymen. But we had not proceeded far when, quite
suddenly, a heavy fire was opened on us from the hills. Fortunately
no one was hit, but it was a miraculous escape, for the ground around
us was literally ploughed up with bullets.
We dismounted, attacked and regained the picket-post. As Brownlow and
I entered the sangar I noticed, on the ground at my feet, one of my
own cigarette boxes, which had been taken by the Raiders when they
captured my kit on its way from Nushki to Robat.
The dozen Sawars were now left to defend the spring, at any cost,
and Brownlow and I returned to the main body, meeting on the way
the Sarhad-dar, with some of the Rekis, who were coming to our
assistance. However, the danger was over for the moment.
The Rekis solemnly assured me that I must be tir-band (immune from
fire). They had watched the hail of bullets from the hills spattering
around us, and could yet hardly believe we had none of us been hit.
I had already found by experience that it was always wise to take
advantage of little superstitious suggestions of this sort, so
solemnly replied that it was a well-known fact that I was tir-band!
We had now seen enough of the enemy's ways and methods to realise
his inclination to waste a great deal of invaluable ammunition at
long ranges. We, therefore, decided upon what seemed a wise course
of action. Realising that to attack him in the hills would be too
expensive we would remain down in the open, anyhow for a few days,
draw his fire, and give him a good opportunity of eating up his
limited food supply. We had food for a month, and knew that he had
only sufficient to last four or five days.
Accordingly we camped where we were for that night, and on the
following morning moved a little farther back towards the Gusht
gorge, taking up the position upon which we had camped when first
entering the valley.
On that short rearward march we were fired at continuously, first at
long range, and then, as the enemy grew bolder, at close quarters.
We could distinctly hear them shouting as they came, crouching low
amongst the rocks and scrub of the hill-sides. They were humorists,
too, these Sarhadis, for, between the shouts, we could catch a
very passable imitation of the rat-a-tat-tat noise of our machine
guns. They came, at last, near enough to shout at me, directly and
personally, calling on me to surrender; promising if I did so to
spare my life, and also informing me that it was no good trying to
fight any longer as I was practically surrounded, and my retreat
cut off. They used the selfsame expressions I had so often used
when summoning them to surrender. This was turning the tables with
a vengeance! But we quickly saw that their boast as to having cut
our retreat was not altogether an idle one. They had, at this stage,
actually occupied a little mud fort crowning a small hillock. This
hillock lay like an island in the bottom of the valley, and commanded
the camping ground we were making for.
The Raiders could be plainly seen shooting at us through the
loop-holes, but, unfortunately for them, Lieutenant English promptly
trained one of his mountain guns on the fort. The first round fired
hit its mark, burst inside, and raised a huge cloud of dust. Its
disconcerted occupants promptly bolted, and the way to our camping
ground lay open.
Here it was possible to place the whole force in comparative safety,
partly owing to the cover afforded by the hillock with the mud fort
on its summit, and in a greater measure to the very convex slopes of
the hills to the North, which gave us complete shelter from snipers'
bullets.
Our only vulnerable point was from behind. If the enemy collected
in the low hills running out from the sides of the gorge it would
be possible to rush us in the darkness. It was in that direction,
accordingly, that we must look out for trouble.
With the idea of guarding against this I asked "Gushti" to supply me
with a couple of men who knew the country well, and were able to
find their way amongst the hills by night.
I then waited till it was quite dark before sending out two strong
pickets, each consisting of fifty men, under the guidance of
"Gushti's" men, to occupy two of the low hills which Sanders and I
had carefully noted whilst the daylight lasted. These commanded the
ground over which the attack would most likely come. We now fully
realised that we were in a very tight corner, and that there was
nothing to be done but to stay and fight it out.
That night Halil Khan himself arrived with reinforcements from Jalk,
and went straight to Jiand and his Yarmahommedzais.
He harangued them on their lack of enterprise in not having already
defeated my force and made me a prisoner. He told the tribesmen that
they vastly outnumbered my men and suggested that, if Jiand had
lost his nerve, they had better serve, for the time being, under
his leadership, when they would soon see how to capture the Sahib's
forces. The outcome of this forceful personality's action was that
Jiand, old and now very weary, consented to waive his leadership in
Halil Khan's favour--for the time being.
[Illustration: HAZARAS ON A PICKET POST BELOW WHICH HALIL KHAN WAS
KILLED.]
So sure seems Halil Khan to have been of his ultimate and complete
victory over us on the morrow that he actually sent a messenger off,
that night, to the Khan of Bampur, telling him that the British
General, who had caused so much trouble, was already a captive,
and that hundreds of his men had been killed. He also wound up this
premature message by inviting the Khan to come and share the loot.
He then left Jiand's camp, taking with him Jiand's men, marched right
round our position to our rear, and occupied a long, deep hollow
between the two very low hills on which the pickets had been posted,
but whose presence was absolutely unsuspected, as they had got there
noiselessly in the darkness.
From this hollow an easy advance on our camp could be made, and Halil
Khan's intention had been, with the dawn, to rush us, and by sheer
weight of numbers, overwhelm us.
But just before dawn one of those insignificant accidents occurred
upon which great things so often depend.
As Halil Khan made ready for the attack, which I heard later was
timed to take place during the next ten minutes, the rifle of one of
his men went off by accident.
I distinctly heard the shot, and have since been told that I rushed
out of my tent shouting, "The Lord has delivered them into our hands!"
I am perfectly certain I never said any such thing, though I may have
exclaimed, "We've got em!"
In an instant a roar of musketry broke out from the hills on both
sides, for the shot had alarmed the pickets, and they were firing
down into the hollow from whence the sound had come.
Light was beginning to break, and it was then just sufficient to see
by, dimly and uncertainly. In any case I knew I had got my chance.
Instant orders were given that every man in camp should reinforce the
pickets.
It soon became apparent that Halil Khan, ignorant that the heights
above him were occupied, had committed a grave error. Daylight showed
that his force were completely exposed to our fire, and that he could
neither advance nor retire without running the gauntlet of it; for
this grew hotter and hotter as reinforcements came up.
Halil Khan and his men fought like tigers, but were in an impossible
position. We had all the ammunition we required and an easy target.
Our own casualties were astonishingly light, but we did not get off
scot-free, and Halil Khan was personally responsible for many of our
men.
By eleven o'clock the fight was over, and those of the enemy
remaining alive got clear as best they could.
Before long news was brought that Halil Khan had been killed, and
that his body was still lying in the hollow. Immediate orders were
given for it to be brought in, as I feared the Shiah Hazaras might
attempt to mutilate it. One of the Hazaras spread the news that he
had seen me blow Halil Khan's head off. The Sarhad-dar overheard him,
repeated what the Hazara had said, and asked me to go and look at the
body, which had now been brought in.
A number of us went and looked at the body, and found that a bullet
had pierced his eye and had blown the back of his head off.
One of the Rekis, who had been present at the last Durbar in Khwash,
exclaimed, "Sahib, you are a Buzurg (a prophet). You said at the
Durbar in Khwash that if ever Halil Khan fought against you again you
would blow his head off. And behold, you have done it."
Once again I felt it policy to acquiesce and to admit that I was
a prophet. As a fact, I had not fired a single shot during the
engagement.
Soon after I had returned to my tent an irate, native officer of the
Hazaras craved admission, which was accorded. Without preface he
opened bluntly. "Sahib, will you give us Halil Khan's body?"
I asked, "Why? What do you mean to do with it? Do you want to
mutilate it?"
He replied, "Sahib, when we lost men the day before yesterday, and
buried them before retiring, the Yarmahommedzais, who came down after
our departure, dug up the bodies, mutilated them horribly and flung
them to the jackals. Therefore, in justice, Halil Khan's body is
ours."
"Halil Khan was a brave man as well as a great leader," I replied.
"You are going to give him a soldier's funeral. You surely have
no wish to treat him in the same terrible way that your men were
treated?"
He urged his point of view with such heat that I at last grew angry
and asked him by what right he demanded Halil Khan's body, and to
answer me as to who had killed him.
"You did, Sahib," he replied, eyeing me curiously.
"Exactly," I said with decision. "Then to whom does the body
belong--to you or to me?"
This seemed rather to appeal to him, for he replied with greater calm:
"To you, Sahib, I suppose."
"I suppose so too, and I am going to do what I like with it. Go at
once to Gusht, buy a new winding sheet, and we will give Halil Khan a
soldier's burial; one befitting his brave deeds and position. Bring
in all the mullahs (priests) you can find in Gusht. Oh, and, by the
way, you can pay for the winding sheet for wasting so much of my time
in argument."
So we accorded Halil Khan a really fine soldier's funeral. Nor was
this without results, for we learned, later, that it had made a great
and favourable impression throughout the Sarhad.