Raiders of the Sarhad

The transport camels, numbering about six hundred, now came up, under cover, and were put in charge of the sixty-five untrained infantrymen. The two machine guns were brought up to a favourable position in the centre, and our little force was now fully deployed for action.

At this moment a man mounted on a camel was seen coming from the enemy's camp, accompanied by a man on foot carrying a white flag of truce.

When the messenger had approached nearer the Sarhad-dar exclaimed, "Why, it is Shah Sawar himself!"

Now Shah Sawar was a very famous Raider Chief, and a relation of Jiand's. At one time he had been the owner and governor of Khwash, but it appears that he had greatly coveted, as a bride, a very beautiful lady known as the Gul-Bibi, or Rose Lady. As usual, negotiations were conducted between the prospective bridegroom and the lady's nearest male relative, who, in this instance, happened to be a somewhat weak-charactered man named Mahommed-Hassan. The price that Mahommed-Hassan placed on the Gul-Bibi was no less than the ownership of Khwash itself. Shaw Sawar's infatuation drove him to pay the price, though, from what I came to know of the ruffian afterwards, I am perfectly convinced that he had every intention of recovering his patrimony as soon as a favourable opportunity presented itself.

When he rode up to me, preceded by the flag of truce, I was struck by his fine appearance.

He announced that he had come with a message from his kinsman, Jiand Khan, to the effect that, "If the General Sahib, accompanied by only one man, would meet Jiand half-way, Jiand, also accompanied by one man, would meet him and discuss the situation."

Of course the very last thing I wanted to do was to prolong any negotiations. Every moment that passed increased the danger that our bluff would be discovered, for it was quite obvious that, up to date, Jiand believed in the existence of the great force being brought against him under a British General, as reported to him by Idu's spies. Therefore, it was necessary to bluster, and answer indignantly, "How dare you come to a British General with any such proposal from a scoundrel like Jiand? Go back and tell him that I am coming, not half-way, but the whole way, and at once. I will give you time to take him my message. I will then fire a shot into the air as the signal that hostilities have begun, and the attack, which will wipe him out, will commence."

Shah Sawar was visibly impressed, and, after a few moments' hesitation, beckoned to the man who had come with him. After a whispered colloquy the latter returned to Jiand with the General Sahib's message. Shah Sawar himself said that he intended to remain with me.

He was obviously cowed and bewildered. He firmly believed we had a great army in the low hills behind us, and deemed it safer to remain with us as a prisoner than to return to Jiand's camp and engage in a battle against five thousand troops – which he could not see from his present position!

Whilst the messenger was racing back to Jiand the seventeen cavalrymen were ordered to show themselves, and as they topped the hills, apparently the advance guard of a great force, their big horses looked most imposing.

Lieutenant Hirst, commanding them, was directed to make a pretence of threatening the left flank and rear of Jiand's position, but ordered not to go too close!

Then, as soon as information came that Jiand's messenger had reached his camp – some six hundred yards distant – and had had time to deliver his message, one of the Chagai Levies was ordered to fire a shot into the air as a signal that the battle had begun.

He pulled his trigger, but nothing happened.

I told him to try again.

Again he pulled the trigger, and this time with the desired result.

The battle had begun.

The order to charge was given. The cavalry moved rapidly to the right, the machine guns rattled, and the infantry – nine trained men and a handful of Chagai Levies, rushed forward in the centre.

What happened in the enemy's camp I only learned afterwards, but it appears to have been as follows: Jiand, seeing the cavalry advancing as if to threaten his retreat, really believed that the mythical army of five thousand was commencing its attack in full force, and, mounting his own camel, he gave an order which literally amounted to a "sauve qui peut." In any case, and in a moment, his force was scattered in a frenzy of terror, and in full retreat, amongst the hills and valleys.

For a moment Landon and I looked at each other. Then, as we realised that the great bluff had succeeded, we rushed forward, with a loud whoop, closely accompanied by the Sarhad-dar. As we were mounted, we got ahead of the others, and actually overtook a number of Jiand's men retreating down a nullah. We emptied our revolvers into them, and some of our infantry coming up, their terror was increased, for they thought they had been trapped by overwhelming numbers.

The enemy had suffered a loss of seven killed. On our side we had one man wounded, and I honestly believe he was wounded by one of our own untrained infantrymen, who, in the excitement and enthusiasm of the moment, had disobeyed orders and joined in the chase.

By the evening there was no one left in sight to chase, so we halted and made preparations to camp where we were. Only a few hours before we had known that if the truth of our numbers had leaked out not one of us would live till night to tell the tale. Fortunately the secret had been well kept, and, although we had only accounted for seven of the enemy, it was obvious we had won a decisive victory. Jiand's entire force was scattered and demoralised, and it would take him a considerable time, even when he did learn how he had been tricked, to collect them again.

He was a very notable man, with enormous power and prestige, not only with his own tribe, the Yarmahommedzais, but with all the nomad tribes of the district, and was regarded as a personage by the Governments of both India and of Persia. His defeat would be a very bitter pill for him to swallow. Although he was looked on by the Ismailzais and the Gamshadzais as a sort of over-lord, even of their own Chiefs, there was always great rivalry between the various tribes, and he would know that Juma Khan, whilst outwardly sympathising with him, would, in reality, be jubilant.

Accordingly, and for the sake of his own prestige, he must make the most of the forces brought against him. That very evening I learned from one of his men, who had been overtaken and brought back as a prisoner, that he had given out that he had had seven hundred men killed and amongst the number was his own favourite son. The death of this son, I afterwards found, was a bitter blow to the famous old Chief, and I have always been sorry that he credited my hand as being the one which had struck him down, though this was absolutely untrue.

Seven men multiplied by a hundred was not bad as a free advertisement. But I determined to go one better.

"Seven hundred!" I retorted to the trembling prisoner. "Nonsense! If you had said seven thousand, it would be far nearer the mark."

Now the great thing was to make the most of our almost bloodless victory near Koh-i-taftan, and pursue Jiand and his men as far as possible amongst the rocky fastnesses of the hills into which they had fled. If only the old ruffian could be persuaded to surrender before the bluff was called, it would be just possible to make the other tribes think that the whole game was up, and so make terms with us; thus obviating a long and harassing campaign.

So we pursued him for two days, as far as Kamalabad, his own special winter headquarters, nearly overtaking him. But he just eluded us as we entered the place by riding out at the other end, and so escaped into the Morpeish Hills, where it was quite hopeless to think of following him with our very small force.

On the other hand, if we left him there, he became an hourly menace. It could be only a question of time before Jiand would be bound to learn how he had been duped. He would then collect his men once more, summon the other tribes to his assistance, and wipe out our little force as he might have done, had he only known, at Koh-i-taftan.

Moreover, news had just reached us of an untoward little incident which had occurred away to the West of Robat. A small British force had been operating in the vicinity of Nasaratabad-sippi (not to be confused with Nasaratabad in Seistan) and this force had been attacked in overwhelming numbers by the Ismailzais, under Juma Khan. It had suffered considerable loss, not only in men, but in mules, rifles, and, most important of all, ammunition. The British officer commanding had fought ably and had averted disaster, but the losses had been sufficient to create a rumour that Juma Khan had scored an exaggerated victory.

This must undoubtedly be avenged, and the only hope of doing so was to strike at once, and whilst Jiand's forces were still scattered and demoralised.

Landon, the Sarhad-dar, Idu and I immediately took counsel together. We discussed the reports of the various scouts who had been sent out in every direction. It appeared that the redoubtable Jiand had received a great shock, and that his nerves were thoroughly shattered. He had dearly loved his son, and the loss was a great grief. He also firmly believed he had lost a great number of his followers in killed and wounded, and his pride was suffering badly in the loss of his prestige as a practically unbeaten Chief.

Then Idu evolved a brilliant scheme by which he believed we should be able to lure Jiand, in his present broken state, to surrender. Kamalabad, where we were at present encamped, and which was Jiand's favourite winter residence, is one of the few spots in the Sarhad well irrigated and consequently well cultivated. The place is freely intersected with karezes, from which the fields are systematically watered. Moreover, the valley is watered on its Western side by a stream which gushes out of the ground, and, after flowing past Gazo, winds round the Northern slopes of the Morpeish Hills and the Sar-i-drokan, to lose itself soon afterwards in the sand.

Kamalabad is not, strictly speaking, a village, as there are no houses there. But it becomes densely populated when Jiand's nomad families camp there in their jugis during the winter months.

Beyond this fertile valley, which for half the year is teeming with life, though it is practically deserted during the summer months, the Morpeish Hills rise abruptly and precipitately out of the plain to a height of ten thousand feet.

On the farther side of these hills, and shut in beyond by the Sar-i-drokan Range, rising to about the same height as the Morpeish Hills, and running parallel with them for a distance of about seventy-five miles, is another valley, Jiand's favourite summer haunt.

It will thus be seen that it was utterly impossible to think of attempting to drive Jiand out of his refuge. Even supposing that we succeeded in dislodging him from the Morpeish Hills he would at once make for the Sar-i-drokan, a range which would be still more difficult to negotiate, apart from the fact that it would draw us farther and farther from our base and any hope of supplies. But it was evident that something must be done, and done quickly. Idu's proposal was, therefore, the only one offering any hope of success.

All the crops of wheat and barley in the Kamalabad Valley were then at their full growth, though still green, and it was upon these crops, when harvested, that Jiand and the entire Yarmahommedzai tribe relied for their yearly bread supply.

Idu's idea was substantially this, that we should send a message to Jiand, whilst he still believed himself pursued by a vast force, summon him to surrender forthwith, and tell him that, if he failed to comply with the instant summons, the whole of his crops would be destroyed. Anyhow the idea was worth trying.

Accordingly, trustworthy messengers were sent to him telling him that if he surrendered himself on behalf of his tribe, before sundown on the following day, the lives of himself and his followers would be safe, and his crops would be spared. If, however, he failed to surrender by the appointed time, six hundred camels, which had already arrived with the advance guard of the great force operating against him, would be turned loose in his fields, and, as he well knew, would make very short work of his crops.

The hours that passed between the sending out of the messengers, and the time limit for Jiand's surrender, were very anxious ones. Would bluff continue to carry us through, or had the bubble been pricked?

During that day news reached us from stragglers, who came trembling to join us at Kamalabad, that many of the old people and women of Jiand's tribe were in great distress. During the headlong flight of himself and his fighting men the weaklings were left behind, and, in their terror, they had fled into all sorts of hiding places where there was neither water nor food. Orders were immediately given that they were to be reassured and succoured in every way, and that food and water were to be supplied to them, also jugis, wherever possible, to shelter them.

The day passed and the time limit was rapidly running out when, between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, we saw a little group of men emerge from the Morpeish Hills, carrying a white flag.

These men approached and announced that they had come as emissaries from Jiand Khan, who was on his way to surrender. He admitted his defeat by the overwhelming numbers brought against him, said he knew it was no use continuing to fight against them, and that his heart was broken by the loss of his son. For the sake of his people he must save the crops or they would surely die. Therefore, if the General Sahib swore on his honour that the lives of himself and his men would be safe, and that his crops would be spared, he would surrender.

CHAPTER V

KHWASH AND MORE BLUFF

Jiand's surrender – A political lecture – Jiand's oath – Bluff for Khwash – The army moves forward – Khwash and its fort – Mahommed-Hassan comes in – Beetles as scavengers – Halil Khan comes in – Rifle prices, a comparison – Idu's warning – News of Izzat – Order of march – Bluff for Bampur – The meteor hole

At five o'clock Jiand arrived riding a camel, and followed by a few attendants.

I went forward to meet him, and treated him with all the courtesy due to his position.

He dismounted and offered his salaams. He was a fine but pathetic-looking figure – a tall, spare man – but the weight of years, and the strain of recent events, were beginning to bow his shoulders. His thick beard was quite grey, but his eyes could still flash with passion and anger, though, at present, they were dulled with grief and humiliation.

I immediately offered him my condolences on the death of his son, and told him I had heard that he believed that I personally was responsible for his death. I assured him that this was not so, and that I greatly regretted that so valiant a father should suffer the loss of a valiant son. I then invited him to sit down on a small rise of ground where a few sparse bushes offered some shade from the sun, and as we had no seats we sat down on the ground round him.