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

When Lisle had been in the village about three months, one of the men came up to him and spoke in Punjabi.

"Why, how did you learn Punjabi?" he said, in surprise; "and why did you not speak to me in it, before? It would have saved me an immense deal of trouble, when I first came."

"I am sorry," the man said, "but the thought that you could speak Punjabi did not enter my mind. I thought that you were a young white officer who had just come out from England. I learnt it because I served, for fifteen years, in the 32nd Punjabis."

"You did?" Lisle said; "why, the 32nd Punjabis was my father's regiment! How long have you left it?"

"Six years ago, sahib."

"Then you must remember my father, Captain Bullen."

"Truly I remember him," the man said. "He was one of our best and kindest officers. And he was your father?"

"Yes. You might remember me too, I must have been eleven or twelve years old."

The man looked hard at him.

"I think, sir, that I remember your face; but of course you have changed a good deal, since then. I remember you well, for you often came down our lines; and you could speak the language fluently, and were fond of talking to us.

"And your father, is he well?"

"He was killed, three years ago," Lisle said, "in an attack on a hill fort."

"I am sorry, very sorry. He was a good man. And so you are an officer in his regiment?"

"No," Lisle said, "I left the regiment in the march to the relief of Chitral. They wanted to send me home, so I darkened my skin and enlisted in the regiment, by the aid of Gholam Singh; and went through the campaign without even being suspected, till just at the end."

"You went as a soldier?" the man said, in surprise; "never before have I heard of a white sahib passing as a native, and enlisting in the ranks. You lived and fought with the men, without being discovered! Truly, it is wonderful."

"I did not manage quite so well as I ought to have done; for I found, afterwards, that I had been suspected before we got to Chitral. Then Colonel Kelly took me out of the ranks and made me a temporary officer, and afterwards got a commission for me."

"It is truly wonderful," the man repeated.

From that time the native took every pains to show him respect and liking for the son of his old officer; and the account he gave, to the others, of the affection with which the young sahib's father was regarded by the regiment, much increased the cordiality with which he was generally treated. Spring came at last, and the snow line gradually rose among the distant hills and, at last, the chief announced that they could now start for their summer home.

The news was received with general satisfaction, for the night watches and the constant expectation of attack weighed heavily upon them all. The decision was announced at dawn and, three hours afterwards, the animals were packed and they set out on the march. They had started a fortnight earlier than usual for, if they had waited till the usual time, their old enemies would probably have placed an ambush.

They travelled without a halt, until they were well among the hills. Then the wearied beasts were unladen, fires were lighted, and a meal cooked. But even yet they were not altogether safe from attack; and sentries were posted, some distance down the hill, to give notice of the approach of an enemy. The night, however, passed quietly; and the next evening they were high among the hills, and camped, for the first time for three months, with a sense of security.

It was determined to rest here for a few days, for they had almost reached the snow line. This was receding fast, under the hot rays of the sun, but it was certain that the gorges would be full of fierce torrents; and that, until these abated somewhat, they would be absolutely impassable. A week was extended into a fortnight. As the snow melted the grass grew, as if by magic; and the animals rapidly regained condition and strength. Then they started again and, after encountering no little difficulty and hardship, arrived at their mountain home.

"Now, sahib," the chief said the next morning, "I will keep my promise to you, and will send four of my men with you to Peshawar. The sun and the glare from the snow have browned you almost to our colour, so there will be no occasion for you to stain your face and, in Afghan costume, you could pass anywhere. Besides, you speak our language so well that, even if you were questioned, no one would suspect that you are not one of ourselves."

"How many days will it take, chief?"

"In five days you will be at Peshawar. I know not whether you will find an army assembled there, to march again into our country; but I hope that peace has been settled. It will take the tribes all the year to rebuild their houses. It will be years before their flocks and herds increase to what they were before and, now they have found that British troops can force their way through their strongest passes, that they can no longer defy white men to enter their lands, they will be very careful not to draw down the anger of the white man upon themselves. They will have a hard year of it to repair, in any way, the damages they have incurred; to say nothing of the loss of life that they have suffered. They have also had to give up great numbers of their rifles; and this, alone, will render them careful, at any rate until they replace them; so I do not think that there will be any chance of fighting this year, or for some years to come. I am sure I hope not."

"I hope not, also," Lisle said. "We too have lost heavily, and the expense has been immense. We shall be as glad as your people to live at peace. I think I may safely say that, if the country is quiet, a messenger will be sent up from Peshawar with the general's thanks for the way in which I have been treated; and with assurances that, whatever may happen, your village will be respected by any force that may march into the country. Probably such an assurance will be sent by the men who go with me."

Another fortnight was spent in the village, for the rivers were still filled to the brim; but as soon as the chief thought that the passes were practicable, Lisle, in Afridi costume, started with four of the men. All the village turned out to bid him goodbye; several of the women, and many of the children, crying at his departure.

The journey down was accomplished without adventure; the men giving out, at the villages at which they stopped, that they were on their way to Peshawar, to give assurances to the British there that they were ready to submit to terms. On nearing Peshawar, Lisle abandoned his Afridi costume and resumed his khaki uniform.

When he arrived at the town, he went at once to headquarters. The sentry at the door belonged to his own regiment; and he started, and his rifle almost fell from his hand, as his eye fell upon Lisle.

"I am not a ghost," Lisle laughed, "but am very much alive.

"I am glad to see you again, Wilkins," and he passed in at the door.

"Is the general engaged?" he asked the orderly who, like the soldier at the door, stood gazing at him stupidly.

"No, sir," the man gasped.

"Then I will go in unannounced."

General Lockhart looked up from the papers he was reading, and gave a sudden start.

"I have come to report myself ready for duty, sir," Lisle said, with a smile.

"Good heavens! Mr. Bullen, you have given me quite a turn! We had all regarded your death as certain; and your name appeared in the list of casualties, five months ago.

"I am truly glad to see you again," and he heartily shook Lisle's hand. "There is another in here who will be glad to see you."

He opened the door, and said:

"Colonel Houghton, will you step in here, for a moment?"

As the colonel entered the room, and his eye fell upon Lisle, he stood as if suddenly paralysed. The blood rushed from his cheeks.

"I am glad to see that you have recovered from your wound, sir," Lisle said.

The blood surged back into the colonel's face. He strode forward and, grasping both Lisle's hands in his own, said in broken accents:

"So it is really you, alive and well! This is indeed a load off my mind. I have always blamed myself for saving my life at the expense of your own. It would have embittered my life to the end of my days.

"And you are really alive! I thank God for it. I tried in vain to check my horse, but it got the bit between its teeth and, with my wounded leg, I had no power to turn him. As I rode, I pictured to myself your last defence; how you died fighting.

"How has this all come about?" and he looked at the general, as if expecting an answer.

"I know no more than yourself, Houghton. He had but just entered when I called you in."

"Now, Mr. Bullen, let us hear how it happened."

"It was very simple, sir. The Afridis were but twenty paces away, when I started the colonel's horse. I saw that fighting would be hopeless, so threw down my sword and pistol. I should have been cut up at once, had not their chief shouted to them to leave me alone, and to fire after Colonel Houghton. This they did and, I was happy to see, without success."

"Then the chief sent me off, under the guard of four men, to his village; with the intention, as I afterwards heard, of holding me as a hostage. A week later we moved down to the plain. When we had been settled in our winter quarters for about two months, we were attacked by a neighbouring tribe.

"By this time I had begun to pick up enough of the language to make myself understood. I volunteered to aid in the defence. The chief gave me his rifle, and I picked off a few of the leading assailants, and aided in the defence of the village. The enemy were beaten off with very heavy loss, and the chief was pleased to attribute their defeat to my advice.