Through Three Campaigns: A Story of Chitral, Tirah and Ashanti

There was trouble the next day in the Mastura valley, where two officers and four men were wounded. The following night the camp was fired into, by an enemy who had crept within a hundred and fifty yards of it. News came that General Kempster, with his detached brigade, had met with little opposition; and his search over the hills showed that the Zakka-Khels, in that direction, were severely punished.

On the 13th, the 3rd Brigade left the camp to cross the Kotal towards Saransur. Except for a few long-range shots, there was no opposition. Next day a Mullah's house was destroyed, documents found there showing that he had taken a vigorous part in the rising.

Two days later the brigade started on their return march. The 1st and 3rd Ghoorkhas were to cover the retirement, and the 15th Sikhs to hold the Kotal. The baggage train reached the Kotal by twelve o'clock, and the camp at three. The Ghoorkhas, however, had to fight hard; and were so done up that, instead of continuing to cover the retirement they passed on, leaving the Sikhs to cover.

The enemy, thinking that only a small rear guard had been left, came down in great force; but the fire was so heavy that they fell back, leaving the ground strewn with their dead. The action, however, now became general, all along the hill. Ammunition was running short, and Captain Abbott felt that, in the face of so large a force, and with fifteen or sixteen wounded, he could not retire down the ravine or valley without support. He therefore signalled for assistance; and the 46th, and two companies of the Dorsets, were detached for that purpose.

Colonel Houghton of the 36th, who was now in command, retiring steadily, found himself hampered with wounded in the rough country; while the enemy were surrounding him in increasing numbers. He was suffering heavily from the fire of the enemy posted in a small village; and he determined to seize it, and hold it for the night. Three companies of the 15th and two of the 36th therefore rushed up the hill, and were into the buildings before the Pathans were aware that they were moving against them. Those that delayed were bayoneted, the rest fled precipitately into the darkness. Their fire, however, had cost us an officer and five men killed.

Major Des Voeux on the right, having rushed a clump of buildings opposite to him, made for a second one on the far side of the nullah, in which was a small square building. The roof of the house had been burnt, and the charred beams were lying on the ground. The men rolled these, and what litter they could find into the gaps of the building; but the breastwork was barely two feet high. When the enemy returned to the attack they rushed right up to the house but, luckily, they fired high in their excitement, and the Sikhs swept them back again. The breastwork was then completed, a sentry was placed at each side of the house, and the rest lay down.

Colonel Houghton's post, which was a strong one, was not much troubled. A disaster, however, occurred to a half company, under two officers, who tried to push their way back to camp. Their bodies were found in a nullah, in the morning.

The next morning the parties were relieved by a force from camp.

On the same day General Westmacott, with the 4th Brigade, marched out. For the past three days the Malikdins and Kambar-Khels had shown a disposition to be friendly, and had made some attempt to open a grain traffic. Major Sullivan, with three other officers, pushed forward to prospect a site for a camp. Some apparently friendly and unarmed tribesmen approached them; but Major Sullivan's suspicions were excited when he saw that, instead of coming down direct, they were making a sweep that would cut off his little party. He therefore whistled for the others to join him.

When the tribesmen saw that the game was up, they poured in two volleys. Luckily the shots went high, and the four officers gained the cover of a house, and were soon joined by a Ghoorkha company. There was no doubt that the enemy had played the game of friendlies for the purpose of obtaining four officers, alive, to use as hostages.

The force then retired, bringing in the baggage animals, loaded with forage. The return was now decided upon. It was considered by the authorities that it would be less expensive to organize another expedition in the spring, when the sowing had begun; than to maintain a large force in the Tirah during the winter. The Afridis would not come down, and orders were therefore issued for destroying all the villages. These were burned, and the axe laid to the roots of the beautiful groves.

The tribal representatives of the Kambar-Khels, Alla-Khels, Malikdin-Khels, and Kuki-Khels came in. They were ordered to send in eight hundred serviceable rifles, fifty thousand rupees in cash, and all property that had been stolen.

When the force arrived at Bagh there was a sharp action, and the casualties amounted to twenty-two wounded and seven killed. The Ghoorkhas reported that they had found the enemy in great force, in the valley.

On the 22nd of November, Sir William Lockhart made a reconnaissance to Dwatoi and the Bara valley. He took with him a strong brigade, under General Westmacott. Every precaution was taken in entering this unknown country, as the road led down a defile commanded by high peaks. The Yorkshire Regiment was told off to hold the right of the advance, the 1st and 2nd Ghoorkhas were to do the same work on the left. The column was headed by the 3rd Ghoorkhas; followed by the 28th Bombay Volunteers, two companies of the Sappers and Miners, the Borderers, and the baggage; the rear guard being furnished by the 36th Sikhs.

Within a mile of camp, the Ghoorkhas were engaged with stray riflemen. A mile farther they were met by the main body, and were unable to proceed farther without support. The flanking regiments, however, presently came up, and the advance continued. The road lay in the river bed, and the men were plodding, waist deep, in water. The passage became narrower and narrower, and so rapid was the decline that the river bed became impassable, and the men made their way along by its side. The road was almost dark, so high were the cliffs and so narrow the passage between them.

Here the resistance became very formidable. The Ghoorkhas were all engaged in clearing the ridges, and the Bombay Pioneers pushed forward an advance guard, the Borderers moving up to their support. The deepest gorge was enfiladed by a party of tribesmen, with Martinis. One man fell with a broken leg. The man helping him was shot a moment later and, when a stretcher was brought back, two more of the Borderers were hit. A section of the 3rd Sikhs was detached to turn the enemy out, and then the ravine was rushed by all the rest. There was another gorge to be passed, and the enemy were pressing on both sides; but a battery was now brought into action, and soon drove them off.

Thus Dwatoi was reached, where the force encamped. It was but a small open plain, some five hundred yards across. Three miles away a gorge opened into the Rajgul valley, and it appeared that, beyond this, lay Wira valley.

All the summits were strongly picketed. Night fell, and there was no sign of the baggage. The troops were wet to the waist, there were seventeen degrees of frost, and the men had neither blankets nor food.

When morning broke there were still no signs of baggage, but at eleven it began to appear. At noon fighting began again, and the rest of the train did not arrive till about five o'clock. Fighting had been incessant the whole day. It was so severe that Sir William Lockhart determined to return to Bagh, the following day.

The arrangements were admirable. The baggage was loaded up before daybreak. The Ghoorkhas were to ascend the hills flanking the village, three companies of the Borderers were to form the advance guard, the wounded on stretchers were to follow, and the mountain battery was to take up a position to cover the retirement. By eight o'clock the last of the baggage was near the nullah. The helio then flashed to the pickets. They came in and joined the rear guard of the Sikhs, and were well in the nullah before a shot was fired.

When the Afridis fairly took the offensive they attacked with fury, and the Sikhs were obliged to signal for help. They were joined by a company of the Borderers. A party of Pathans dashed forward to seize the baggage; they had not, however, seen the few files that formed the rearmost guard, and were therefore caught between two bodies of troops, and almost annihilated. This sudden reversal of the situation seemed to paralyse the tribesmen, and the rest of the gorge was safely passed. Though the natives followed up the rear guard to within two miles of the camp, they never made another determined attack. The force lost, in all, five officers wounded, and a hundred men killed and wounded, from the 36th.

During the course of the reconnaissance Lisle had been with the rear guard, and had fallen in the torrent with a rifle ball through his leg. As every man was engaged in fighting, the fall was unnoticed and, as he could not recover his footing, he was washed helplessly down to the mouth of the defile. As he managed to reach the shore, a party of Afridis rushed down upon him with drawn tulwars; but a man who was evidently their leader stopped them, as they were about to fall upon him.

"He is an officer," he said. "We must keep him for a hostage. It will be better, so, than killing him."

Accordingly he was carried back to a village which the troops had left that evening. Here some women were told to attend to his wound, and the party who captured him went off to join in the attack on the British rear guard.

In the evening, the man who had saved his life returned. He was, it seemed, the headman of the village; and had been with his force in the Bara valley, where the natives of the village had retired on the approach of the British force. There Lisle lay for ten days, by which time the inflammation from the wound had begun to subside. The bullet had luckily grazed, and not broken the bone. At the end of that time, some of the principal men came to him and, by signs, directed him to write a letter to the British commander, saying that he was a prisoner, that he was held as a hostage against any further attempt to penetrate into the valley; and that, in the event of another British force approaching, he would be at once put to death.

Four of the Afridis always sat at the entrance to the house, which was one of the largest in the valley. He was served regularly with food; of which, as the valley had not been entered, there was, of course, abundance. The women in the house seldom came in to see him, except when they brought him his meals; and then it was evident, from their surly manner, that they strongly objected to his presence.

As he lay on his rough pallet, he resolved to maintain the appearance of being unable to walk, as long as possible. He knew very well that, if General Lockhart had to make another movement against the Bara valley, he could not be averted from his purpose by the fact that the Afridis held one officer prisoner, though he would assuredly revenge his murder, by destroying every house in the valley; and that he must accordingly trust only to himself to make his escape. To do this, it would be absolutely necessary to procure a disguise; and this, at present, he did not see his way to accomplish.

The guards below were relieved every few hours, and kept up their watch every day. Still, as they watched only the door, it might be possible for him to let himself down from the window at the back of the house.

On the tenth day he found himself really able to walk, without very great difficulty. Looking out of the window, one morning, he saw that the women of the house were all gathered round the guards, and talking excitedly. Evidently some messenger had come in with news from the Tirah valley. He knew, by this time, how many there were in the house, and was satisfied that they were all there.

He at once made his way down to the floor below; feeling confident that, for the moment, he would not be disturbed. Hanging against the wall were several men's dresses and clothes. He hastily took down sufficient for a disguise. They were summer clothes–for the Afridis, when leaving to act against our troops in the mountains, wear sheepskin garments. At any rate, there was little fear that their loss would be discovered until the men returned from the front.

He took the clothes up to his room, and hid them under the pallet. Then, having ascertained that the women were still engaged in talking, he took off his boots and made his way down to the lowest story, which was principally used as a storehouse. Here, among bags of corn and other stores, he saw a coil of rope. This he carried upstairs and, having hidden it, lay down again.

The rest of the day passed quietly. It was apparent that the clothes had not been missed and, with a strong feeling of hopefulness, he awaited the night. When the house was quiet he looked out. Four men were sitting, as usual, at the front of the door. Then he took off his uniform and put on his disguise, fastened one end of the rope securely, and slid down noiselessly to the ground.

Keeping the house between him and the guard, he started. Making a detour, he got free of the village, and then turned to the upper end of the valley. Half an hour's walking took him to where the force had encamped, and he soon reached the mouth of the gorge.

Here he plunged into the river. His leg hurt him a good deal, but he waded on and, after great exertions, reached the head of the gorge. His leg was now hurting him so much that he could proceed no farther so, turning off, he mounted the hills and lay down among the rocks, where there was little chance of his being discovered.

Here he dozed till morning. When he took the rope, he had thrust several handfuls of grain into his pocket; and this he had tied up in the skirt of his garment, when he started. He now munched some of it, and lay, watching the mouth of the gorge below.

Two hours after daybreak, he saw a small party of tribesmen come hurrying up through the gorge. They did not stop, but kept on their course, evidently supposing that he had pushed on to join the British camp. All day he lay hidden and, before dark, he saw the men come back again. They had evidently given up the chase and, as he had seen no searchers upon the hills, the idea that he was hiding had evidently not occurred to them.

He felt, however, that he must give his leg another day's rest before proceeding. On the following day he suffered a good deal from thirst, and dared not venture down to the river. When it was dark, however, he continued his way.

Presently he saw something white, huddled up behind a rock and, climbing up, he found that it was the dead body of an Afridi, who had fallen in the fight. Beside him lay his Lee-Metford rifle. This was indeed a find. In the scanty garments that he had alone dared to take, he would be known at once by anyone who happened to pass near him. He now set to work, and dressed himself in the dead warrior's garments; and took up his rifle and pouch of ammunition.

"Now," he said, "I only want something to stain my face and hands, and I shall be able to pass anywhere, if it does not come to talking."

He kept his eyes about him, and presently saw the plant which he knew Robah had used in preparing the dye for him. Pulling all the leaves off, he pounded them with the stock of his rifle, and rubbed his face with juice from the leaves. There was sufficient to stain both his face and hands.

By nightfall he entered the Maidan. Here he saw many natives gathered round the ruined houses. As he approached it, he saw that heavy firing was going on round the camp. It was greatly reduced in extent, and he guessed that a considerable proportion of the force had moved off on some punitive expedition. Between him and it, he could see many of the Afridis crouched among the rocks, ready to attack any small parties that might issue out.

He saw at once that it would be impossible to reach the camp without being questioned, and he therefore determined to fall in with the column that had gone out. For this purpose, he made a wide detour until he came upon a track where there were innumerable signs that a column had recently passed. Crushed shrubs would, in themselves, have been a sufficient guide; but there were many other tokens of the path of the army: grain dropped from a hole in a sack, scratches on the rock by the shod feet of the transport animals, an empty cartridge case, and a broken earthenware pot.

He pushed on rapidly, keeping a sharp lookout for the enemy. Some of them, passing along the hill, shouted to him to join them; but with a wave of his rifle and a gesture, showing that he intended to keep to the track, he went on.

Late in the afternoon, on mounting a high pass, he could distinctly hear firing in the distance; and his heart beat at the thought that he was near his friends. Still, between him and them the Afridis might be swarming. The risk, however, must be run.

Ascending the slope of the hill, he obtained a view of the conflict. A body of British troops was firing steadily, and another regiment was coming up to their assistance. The Afridis were swarming round in great numbers, and keeping up a continuous fire. Waiting until he saw where the Afridis were thickest, he made his way down to the firing line, and took up his position behind a rock; there being none of the natives within fifty yards of him. He now began to fire, taking pains to see that his bullets went far over the heads of the British. This he continued until nightfall, by which time the conflict had come to an end, and the British regiments, with the convoy which they were protecting, had reached camp.

Chapter 10: Through The Mohmund Country

For a time the firing ceased entirely but, soon after nightfall, a scattered fire opened round the camp. Lisle now made his way down fearlessly, until within four hundred yards of the camp. He was able to make out the white dresses of the Afridis, lying crouched behind rocks. No one paid any attention to him and, as soon as he had passed them, he dropped on his hands and knees and began crawling forward; keeping himself carefully behind cover for, at any moment, the pickets might open fire. When he approached the British lines, he stopped behind a rock and shouted:

"Don't fire! I am a friend."

"Come on, friend, and let us have a look at you," the officer in charge of the picket answered.

Rising, he ran forward.