For Name and Fame; Or, Through Afghan Passes

"By the by, poor young Thompson, who died yesterday, was about your size; and you had better bid a lump sum for the whole of his kit. I shall be happy to be your banker for that, and the needful sum for your traveling expenses. When you join your regiment you will, of course, be able to draw your pay, from the date on which you were gazetted."

Will thanked the general very heartily for his offer, but said that he had 100 pounds standing at his account at the bank of Hindostan, which had been presented to him by the owners of the vessel in which he arrived there; and that this would be more than sufficient for all his needs, if the genera] would kindly authorize the staff paymaster to cash his drafts upon the bank.

This request was at once granted. The paymaster of Lieutenant Thompson's regiment estimated that the effects of the young officer would sell, at auction, for about 20 pounds; and this sum William Gale gladly paid, thereby obtaining a complete outfit of regimental and civilian clothes, and under linen of all descriptions. Another 30 pounds bought him a horse and saddlery while, for 5 pounds, he obtained a rough pony for the use of Yossouf–who steadily refused to leave him, although Will pointed out to him that, glad as he should be to have him with him, it would be far more to his advantage to remain among his people at Cabul, where he had means of settling comfortably.

Upon the following day–having obtained his new uniform, which he found required no alteration to fit him fairly–William Gale dined with General Roberts; who had kindly invited him in order to introduce him, in his new position, to the officers of his staff He was obliged to remain three or four days longer at Sherpur, until a strong escort, with sick, was going down through the passes to Jellalabad. His baggage was stowed upon a camel and, after a kind adieu from General Roberts, and a very cordial one from the staff sergeants–among whom he had worked for three months–he started with the convoy for the lower valleys.

The escort consisted of a hundred men of the infantry of the Guides. The way down the pass was difficult; but no snow had fallen for three weeks, and the roads were fairly beaten down by passing parties. Still, their progress was slow and, late on the afternoon of the second day after starting, they were still four miles from the fort of Jugdulluk; which was held by a British force, and where they were to halt for the night.

The Guides were on the alert. A party of four men were 200 yards ahead of the little column, which was commanded by Captain Edwards. Presently a shot rang out from the front, followed by a scattered discharge. William Gale was, at the moment, riding by the side of Captain Edwards. He had already placed himself under that officer's orders, in case of any emergency.

"Mr. Gale," Captain Edwards said, "will you ride forward at once, with six men, to the advanced party. When you get there, take such measures as you may think fit; and send me back word as to the strength and position of the enemy."

With six of the Guides, Will at once rode forward; while Captain Edwards halted, until the little column was gathered closely together: the camels and dhoolies, with sick men, in the center; the soldiers, in readiness for action, around them.

A soldier now ran up with a slip of paper, upon which Will had scribbled, in pencil:

"The enemy are apparently in considerable force. The defile opens here. They are disposed among rocks and boulders, on either side."

Will, on arriving at the advanced party, had found at once that the force of the enemy was too strong for him to attempt to move forward, at present. He had posted the men behind boulders by the wayside, ordering them to pick off any man that showed himself; and they were soon engaged in a sharp musketry skirmish with the enemy. One of their number had fallen at the first discharge; and Will, taking his rifle, used it with effect, until the head of the convoy arrived.

It was now fast becoming dark, and the flashes of the enemy's fire, from behind the rocks, showed how numerous were the assailants.

"There must be a couple of thousands of the scoundrels," Will said to Captain Edwards, as the latter came up to ascertain the state of affairs. "Hampered with the convoy, the position is an awkward one. It is fortunate they attacked where they did; for we can hold our own here while, if they had waited till we got fairly down into this comparatively open valley, and then attacked us on both flanks, it would have been very awkward.

"We must try and clear them out. We cannot stop here all night. It is freezing very sharp, now; and the cold will be intense, in an hour or two."

"I will take thirty men," Captain Edwards said, "and skirmish along among the rocks on the left. Do you take as many more, and move along the right of the path. The remaining forty shall stay here, under my sergeant, to guard the convoy from an attack in rear, in case any of the enemy should come down the defile behind us."

The fight soon became exceedingly hot. Making their way along the rocks, on either side of the path, the Guides slowly drove the enemy before them. It was hard work, however, for the tribesmen fought steadily and, as those in front fell back upon those lower down the valley, their resistance became every moment more obstinate. Eight of Will's party had already fallen; but although, sword in hand, he was leading them, encouraging them with voice and gesture, not a bullet had as yet struck him.

Presently Captain Edwards, having crossed the valley, stood by his side.

"We are at a standstill," he said. "Nine of my men are killed or wounded, already; and the fellows are as thick as peas. I am afraid we shall never be able to force our way through.

"There," he exclaimed, as a sound of firing was heard in the rear, "they have come down on the convoy from behind. We had better, I think, fall back a bit; and take post near the mouth of the defile. We must defend ourselves, as best we can, till morning."

The movement was steadily executed, the wounded men being carried with them as they retired. The tribesmen advanced as they fell back–not venturing to press them, however; for the rear guard kept their faces towards them, and any who ventured to show themselves instantly paid the penalty of their rashness.

For an hour the fight went on. It was night now, and dark as pitch in the deep valley in which the fight was going on; the position of the combatants being only indicated by the flickering flashes of the muskets. The Afghans were gradually creeping nearer, as the Guides could see, by the flashes.

"If the fellows only make a determined rush at us," Captain Edwards said to Will, "it will go hard with us. Fortunately, they are as much in the dark as we are, and will find it difficult to gather for a rush."

"I think we may hold out till morning but, by that time, news that we are blockaded here will spread throughout the hills, and we may have 10,000 of them down on us. I think, if you will give me leave, the best plan will be for me to try and make my way down to Jugdulluk, to bring up help from there."

"You would never get through," Captain Edwards advised. "It is a brave offer, Gale, but could not be done."

"I think it might be done," Will said. "It is as dark as pitch. I will take my lad with me, and will borrow a native cap and cloak from one of the bearers–there are some Afghans among them. I will take off my patrol jacket, and leave it behind me, and my boots. We will crawl along in the dark.

"If–as is likely enough–we stumble against some of them, we will say we are wounded, and are making our way to the rear. They cannot see us in the dark, and my Afghan will pass muster; and Yossouf will certainly not be suspected. If I am discovered and killed, he will go forward and deliver the message."

The plan seemed to offer every possibility of success; and Captain Edwards, seeing how serious the position was, consented to allow Will to attempt it.

A few words to Yossouf sufficed to inform him of the task Will was about to undertake, and he at once agreed to share the danger. A rough sheepskin cap was obtained for Will from one of the camel men. His tunic was thrown off, and a posteen–or Afghan sheepskin coat–was put on, in its place. He took a long matchlock, which the camel man carried, slung over his shoulders; took off his boots, and thrust a pair of loose Afghan shoes into his belt. Yossouf needed no preparations, beyond borrowing a matchlock.

Wringing Captain Edwards' hand, Will stooped on his hands and knees and, with Yossouf a pace or two ahead, began to crawl down the path. Before starting, the orders had been sent round to the soldiers to fire at the rocks on either side of the path, but on no account to fire down the road, itself. As he expected, Will found this clear of Afghans, for a considerable distance. A heavy fire had, previous to their starting, been directed down this path; to prevent the Afghans from gathering there in the darkness, preparatory to making a rush. They came across several dead bodies, but the enemy were all behind rocks, on one side or other of the road.

When they had crawled a hundred yards, they were past the front line, from which the Afghans were keeping up a heavy fire; but Will knew that, from their numbers, they must extend far back down the valley and, indeed, from almost every rock the flashes of the matchlocks blazed out, as the lurking tribesmen fired in the direction of the mouth of the defile.

They were nearly a quarter of a mile down when an Afghan–who had been crouching behind a rock, close to the path–advanced into the road to fire, when he stumbled against Yossouf.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed.

"We are both wounded, by the Kaffirs," Yossouf answered; "and are making our way back, to bind up our wounds. I think my arm is broken; but I mean to come back again, to have a few more shots at the infidels."

"Good!" the Afghan replied. "How goes it in front?"

"Their fire is lessening," Yossouf said. "We must have killed many. We shall finish with them in the morning, if not before."

The Afghan fired, and then retired behind his rock to load again; while Will and Yossouf continued their way.

A few hundred yards farther, they rose to their feet. Will slipped on the Afghan shoes; and they then proceeded, at a rapid pace, down the pass. Several times they withdrew from the road, and hid beside it, as they met parties of tribesmen hurrying up to join in the attack but, in an hour after starting, they heard the welcome challenge of the sentry, at Jugdulluk.

Saying who he was, Will was at once passed forward into the fort, and taken to the quarters of the officer in command.

"I am Lieutenant Gale, of the 66th," Will said, "and was on my way down the pass with the convoy of wounded, and 100 men of the Guides, under Captain Edwards. They have been attacked at the lower end of the defile, some four miles above, by a very strong body of tribesmen. They are attacked front and rear.

"I have made my way through to ask you if you can despatch a force to their rescue. Were the tribesmen attacked in their rear, now, they might be scattered easily enough; but they are assembling very fast and, in the morning, it will be a difficult matter to reach them."

"We have fancied," the officer said, "for the last two hours that we heard distant firing; but we could not be sure, for any noise echoes so, in these mountains. I will set out at once with you, with as many men as I can spare."

Chapter 17: At Candahar

The garrison of Jugdulluk consisted only of 220 Sikhs. The officer in command left seventy of these in charge of one of his subalterns, with the injunction to exercise the most extreme vigilance, in his absence. Then with 150 men, a subaltern, and Will Gale, he started up the path to effect the rescue of the beleaguered convoy.

The road wound and turned frequently among the spurs of the lofty hills, which had cut off the sound of firing from the garrison; and only a faint and distant murmur was audible, when they started. After marching two miles, however, the rattle of the musketry became clear and distinct. Upon the way the officer in command learned, from Will, the exact position of things in front, and the situation of the Afghans.

When within half a mile of the scene of action, fifty men were thrown out on either side of the road; while the other fifty advanced, very slowly, along the center The orders to the flankers were to search among the rocks, as they advanced, and to bayonet or shoot every Afghan they found among them.

It was not long before they came upon the enemy. Then the rifles cracked out; and the wild shouts of the Afghans betokened their astonishment at being thus, unexpectedly, assailed in rear. Numerous as they were, they offered but a light resistance. Their one thought was to effect their escape; and they hurried rapidly away as the relief advanced, climbing the steep sides of the valley by paths only known to themselves; and then, from the hillside far above, opening a scattered fire, at random, down into the valley.

In five minutes, all resistance had ceased. The flanking parties were ordered to shelter themselves behind the rocks, and to return the fire of the natives on the hillsides; to retain the position until the convoy passed through, and then to close behind it, as a rear guard. With the fifty men in the road, the officer then pushed forward; and was soon greeted by a shout of welcome from the defenders of the defile.

There was not a minute to be lost; for the Afghans, when they recovered from their first scare, would renew the attack; and the party pressing down the defile on their rear–ignorant of what had taken place below–were still keeping up an incessant fire. Twenty-eight of the Guides were already killed, or wounded.

Several of the sick men, in the dhoolies, volunteered to walk down to the fort, and to give up their places to those of the wounded men who were unable to walk and, in a few minutes, the convoy moved forward. The fifty men of tho relieving party placed themselves in their rear and, as the tribesmen who had been attacking them from behind rushed down through the defile, with exulting shouts–believing that they were now secure of their victims–the Sikhs opened so heavy a fire on them that they fell back up the defile, in disorder.

As the convoy wound down the valley, the enemy again assembled on the hills and pursued them hotly. But the Sikhs and Guides kept up so steady a fire that they did not venture to approach to close quarters and, with a loss of eighteen more men, the convoy reached the shelter of the fort. Conscious of their inability to attack this position, the Afghans drew off.