It is certain that had the slightest energy been shown, and had a small body of troops been despatched when Burnes's first request for help arrived, the riot would have been nipped in the bud, for all accounts agree that for a considerable time not more than three hundred men took part in the attack, and even when Shelton urged the necessity for prompt measures Burnes might have been saved. Except in the case of the rising at Meerut in the Indian Mutiny, never did such disastrous effects result from the incompetence of a British general.
The day passed slowly to Angus. It was maddening to be helpless when great events were happening. Until it became quite dark no one came near them, but at seven o'clock they heard the bolt of the door withdrawn, and aman entered with a torch, by whose light they at once recognized Hassan, their guide over the passes.
"You here, Hassan!" Angus exclaimed. "I had always thought of you as back again in your tower near Bamian. Is it you who has thus made us prisoners?"
"We were sorry to use force, effendi, but there was no other way. Sadut Khan charged us to look after your safety, and we have kept you in sight for some days. He was living in this house in disguise. He was absent yesterday evening to take part in the conference with the other chiefs, and did not return until after midnight. Then he said, 'There will be a tumult in the city to-morrow, Hassan, and probably the house of the officer Burnes will be attacked. What will come of it I do not know. I myself and the other chiefs are leaving at once, so that if things go badly we can disavow any connection with the affair. The young officer, my friend, is, as you know, at Burnes's house. He must be rescued. Prepare this room for him. If he leaves the house before the attack begins, you must seize him and carry him in here. If his servant is with him, bring him also; he too must be saved. He waited on me kindly, and did all in his power for me. If he should not leave the house, then you and your followers must join the mob and keep together, forcing yourselves to the front, so that you will be the first to enter the house. Take long cloaks to throw round them, and get them out, even at the cost of your lives.'
"I told him that it should be done. You saved his life, and you also saved ours, for we should have been suffocated in the snow-storm had you not cut your way out and come to our rescue. So it has been done. We were glad indeed when we saw you come out. Had you not turned down that lane, I should have come up and accosted you, and,telling you that I had an important message to deliver to you, should have asked you to come with me to a quiet spot, where I might deliver it safely. As it was, directly you turned down, we ran round, and, as you know, captured you without noise and without being observed by you. You will, I trust, pardon me for having laid hands on you; but I had orders from the Khan, who told me that I should have to use force, as he was sure you would not, however great the danger, he persuaded to leave Burnes."
"What has happened?"
"The Englishman and two others with him have been killed. One of the Ameer's regiments entered the town, but was driven back. There is looting going on everywhere. Many have been killed, and many houses burnt."
"But what is our army doing?"
"Nothing. There is a force at the Bala Hissar, the rest are under arms in their camp."
"It seems impossible!" Angus exclaimed. "However," he went on, stifling his indignation for the time, "I have to thank you deeply, Hassan, you and Sadut Khan, for having saved our lives. Assuredly you took the only way to do so; for had you only told me of the danger that threatened Sir Alexander Burnes, I should have returned to warn him and share his fate, whatever it might be. As it was, I cannot blame myself that I was absent. I thank you with all my heart. Pray tell the Khan when you see him that I am deeply grateful to him. He has nobly redeemed his promise, and I hope some day to thank him in person."
"Now, sahib, we will start at once," Hassan said. "I have clothes for you to put over your own, and there is no fear of our being suspected. We will take you to within shot of your camp."
He called out, and his four men entered, bringing with them Afghan disguises. When these were put on, they salliedout at once. The five men were fully armed, and long Afghan guns were given to Angus and Azim. The streets were full of people, for the most part in a state of wild excitement, though the better class looked grave at the prospect of the retribution that would probably fall upon the city, perhaps to-morrow or certainly in a day or two. None paid any attention to the group, who differed in no respect from the majority of those around them. Issuing from one of the gates, they made their way to the cantonments. When within a few hundred yards the Afghans stopped. After a hearty farewell and renewed thanks, Angus and Azim left them. They had taken off their disguises, and offered them to Hassan to carry back, but he said, "You had best keep them; you may want them again. There is no saying what may happen." And they accordingly carried them with them.
In a short time they were challenged by a sentry, and halted till the latter had called a sergeant and four men. Then they went forward. Angus was recognized at once, as he was known by sight to everyone in the camp. In a short time they met an officer, who told them the news of the massacre of Burnes, his brother, and Broadfoot, and their guard, which was already known, as one man had escaped the general slaughter, and had, after hiding for some hours, come into the camp. Angus went at once to Macnaghten's house and sent in his name. The envoy came out into the hall. "I am glad to see that you have escaped, Mr. Campbell. I thought that all had perished, though your name is not specially mentioned as among the victims."
"I was not in the house, sir," Angus replied. "Sir Alexander Burnes had sent me out to gather information, and I and my servant were suddenly seized and carried into a house, where we were kept as prisoners all day. After it was dark we made our escape, having obtained disguises from a friendly Afghan."
"Well, I am glad," Macnaghten said; "but you must excuse me now, for the general is here, and we are holding a council. You had better for to-night take up your quarters in poor Burnes's tent. I shall have time to attend to matters to-morrow."
Although Burnes had his residence in the city, he had a large tent not far from the envoy's house. This he occupied when he had business in camp, and it was here that he received natives who brought him news, or who had grievances that they wished to report to him. Here Angus lay down for the night, with a deep feeling of thankfulness that his life had been spared, mingled with a foreboding that the troubles had only begun, and that there was yet much peril in store before the army were safely out of Afghanistan.
In the morning Angus again went up to the envoy's. "I have been thinking, Mr. Campbell," Macnaghten said when he entered, "as far as I have been able to think on any one subject, how your services can be best utilized temporarily. I think that, if you would not mind, you might be attached to the commissariat, and assist Captain Boyd and Captain Johnson."
"I will gladly do so, sir," Angus said. "I will take up the work at once."
"Anticipating your consent, I have already written a letter for you to take to those officers."
Glad to have work before him, Angus went at once to the commissariat camp. The two officers were at breakfast. Both rose and congratulated him heartily on his escape. "How on earth did you manage it?"
He gave as brief an account as he had done to Sir William Macnaghten, and then handed them the letter he had received from the envoy. "That is good news," Captain Johnson said heartily. "We shall be glad indeed to have your aid. I will have a tent pitched for you at once by the sideof ours. Of course you have not breakfasted. Sit down with us. What do you think of the state of affairs? You know a good deal more than we do of the disposition of the Afghan chiefs."
"I think things look very bad," Angus said gravely. "After what seems to me the imbecility shown yesterday, to which the death of my chief is due, it is impossible to feel anything like confidence in the general."
"That is the universal feeling in camp," Captain Johnson said. "If we had Sale here I believe everything would go right, but poor Elphinstone is only fit for a snug armchair in a comfortable club. He is no more able to cope with a crisis like this than an old woman would be. In fact, for choice I would take the average old woman.
"Orders have been given for an attack upon the town to-day, but it is more than likely that it will be countermanded. If Elphinstone can make up his mind to throw his whole force, with the exception of a strong camp guard, against the city, we should certainly carry it. No doubt there might be a considerable loss of life, but that could not be helped. It would certainly be successful. Then I should say we ought to turn the whole of the Afghan population out of the town, move all our provisions and stores there, and settle down for the winter. We could beat off any attack that the Afghans could make against us. As it is, we are terribly anxious about the stores. You know that I originally established all the magazines for the Ameer's army in the Bala Hissar. Then Macnaghten came up with the Ameer from Jellalabad, and he told me that the Ameer objected to the magazines being there. That was quite enough for Macnaghten. He always gives in to the Ameer's wishes, however ridiculous. So we had to leave the storehouses I had built and move out bag and baggage.
"The only place that I could get was the camel shedshalf-way between this and the town, and unless a strong garrison is sent down there the Afghans are certain to take possession of them. But Boyd's stores are even more important. They are within four hundred yards of the defences of the camp, and contain all our grain, our hospital stores, our wine and beer, our sugar, and everything else. And if his stores and mine are both lost, we shall have starvation staring us in the face at the end of a week. Just look out over the plain. Since daylight there has been a steady stream of men from the hills, and from all the villages round, flocking into the city; they have heard of the capture of my treasury, and are eager to share in the looting. If they succeed in capturing the stores and provisions, God help us all."
CHAPTER XIV
A SERIES OF BLUNDERS
Numerousas had been the blunders, and great the mismanagement up to the 2nd of November, matters might yet have been retrieved had the conduct of affairs been in resolute and energetic hands. Macnaghten was personally a brave and fearless man. Had he at last felt the necessity for strong measures, an attack upon the city would certainly have been attended with success. Now that the first burst of hate and passion had passed, the inhabitants were filled with apprehension at the punishment that would fall upon them, and none doubted that the British army would at once attack the town. The army itself expected this, and, furious at the treacherous massacre of Sir Alexander Burnes and his comrades, were burning for the order to attack.
The troops were under arms early, but no orders wereissued for a forward movement. Some hours later the 35th regiment of Native Infantry, with two mountain guns, came in from Khoord Cabul, having brushed aside the opposition it had met with on its march. With this valuable addition to the fighting strength in the camp all opposition could have been easily overcome, and yet until three o'clock in the afternoon nothing whatever was done. By this time what could have been effected with comparative ease in the early morning had become a far more difficult operation. Vast numbers of the tribesmen had been pouring into the city since daybreak, and the two miles of plain between the camp and the city, which earlier in the day could have been traversed without a shot being fired, were now covered by a host of fierce enemies; and yet, after wasting so many valuable hours, the general, instead of throwing the whole of the force in the cantonments, and that of Brigadier Shelton at the Bala Hissar, against the city, sent only three companies of infantry and two guns to the attack.
Naturally this handful of men failed; and it was well for them that they did not penetrate into the city, for had they done so they would assuredly have been overwhelmed before they had gone fifty yards. However, the officer in command, seeing the impossibility of the task set him, withdrew his detachment in good order. The result of the day's operation, if it could be so called, was disastrous, the troops, who had until then been eager to be led against the enemy, and confident of success, were irritated and dispirited, and lost all confidence in their commander; while, on the other hand, the Afghans were jubilant over what they considered the cowardice of the enemy. The next day the misfortune invited by the passive attitude of our troops happened. Only eighty men were in charge of the commissariat fort. The little party were commanded by Lieutenant Warren. Early in the day a threateningforce of the enemy approached, and Warren sent a messenger urgently asking for reinforcements.
But the Afghans had already occupied an old fort that commanded the road between the camp and the commissariat fort. Considering the enormous importance of the stores, an overwhelming force should have been sent out to drive off the assailants, and to occupy the fort in such strength that it could be held against any assault. Instead of doing this, two companies only of the 44th Regiment were sent. The two captains in command were killed by the fire from the Afghan fort, other officers were wounded, and the men fell so fast that the officer who was senior in command, seeing the impossibility of reaching the store, drew them off. Then an order was issued—which was practically the death-warrant of the army—by General Elphinstone, for a party of cavalry to go out and bring in the little garrison. This party suffered even more severely than the preceding one. From every wall, building, and orchard a storm of musketry broke out, and the troopers, after suffering great loss, again retired. The news that the general intended to abandon the store struck dismay into the officers of the commissariat. Captain Boyd hurried to head-quarters, and urged the general to send a force that would sweep away all opposition, and to hold the fort at all hazards. The general promised to send a reinforcement, but no relief was sent.
As night was coming on, Captain Boyd and Captain Johnson again went to the general and pointed out in the strongest language the result that would follow the abandonment of the stores. The unhappy old man hesitated, but on a letter being brought in from Lieutenant Warren saying that the enemy were mining the walls, and some of the Sepoys, seeing their position was desperate, were deserting, he promised that a strong detachment should be sent at two o'clock in the morning to storm the Afghan fort and relieve theguard at the commissariat stores. Orders were accordingly issued, but these were presently countermanded, and it was decided that the force should not move until daylight.
By that time it was too late. Warren had repulsed an attack on the walls, but seeing that the enemy were preparing to fire the gate and renew the attack, he retired through a passage that had on the previous day been dug under the wall, and reached the camp in safety. But this was not the only disaster that happened that day. Captain Johnson's store of provisions for the use of the Ameer's troops, on the outskirts of the city, was also attacked. Captain Mackenzie, who was in command of the little garrison there, defended his post throughout the day with the greatest gallantry; but water was scarce, and ammunition failing, and large numbers of women and children were in the fort, with great quantities of baggage. Urgent letters were sent asking for reinforcements, but no reinforcements came. Had they arrived the situation would have been saved. The Kuzzilbashes were ready to side with the British. Several of their commanders were with Mackenzie, but when they saw that no help was sent, they refused to join a cause that seemed to them lost. All night the fighting went on, and all next day, until his men were utterly worn out, and the ammunition exhausted. No more could be done, and when night came on, he moved out of the fort and fought his way to the cantonments—a brilliant action, which showed what could be accomplished by a mere handful of men well led.
While Mackenzie was thus fighting for the stores under his charge, the troops in the cantonments were condemned to see crowds of Afghans looting the stores within four hundred yards of our camp, carrying off the supplies that had been garnered for their subsistence through the winter, and this without a man being set in motion or a gun brought to bear upon the plunderers.
Furious at the imbecility of their leaders, the soldiers clamoured to be led against the enemy. Unable to resist the demand, the general ordered the 37th Native Infantry to move out; but instead of being led straight against the enemy, the officer in command hesitated and halted, and soon fell back with the indignant Sepoys.
General Elphinstone was already talking of making terms with the enemy, and seemed to despair of victory when no attempt had been made to gain a success. On the 6th, however, a party of the 37th were again sent out under Major Griffiths. Again it was seen what could be done by an energetic officer. The Afghan fort was stormed, the enemy were driven out, and were routed by a party of horse, who dashed at them gallantly. The troops could be no longer restrained, and cavalry, infantry, and artillery poured out; but there was no general plan, and the consequence was, that although desultory fighting went on all day, nothing was accomplished. Had any general plan of operation been laid down, and a combined action fought, the enemy would have been utterly unable to withstand our troops, worked up to fury as these were by the disgraceful inaction that had been forced upon them. In the meantime, starvation would have already stared the troops in the face had not Captains Boyd and Johnson, aided by Angus and other officers of their department, gone out to the native villages and succeeded in purchasing a certain amount of grain. But already the troops were on half rations, and even these scanty supplies could not long be available.
The general, while his troops were out fighting, wrote to Macnaghten, urging that negotiations should be opened with the enemy, and saying, "Our case is not yet desperate, but it is becoming so very fast."
Macnaghten himself was conscious of this, conscious that, under such leading, the situation was fast becoming desperate, and he employed the moonshee, Mohun Lal, who was still in Cabul under the protection of the Kuzzilbash chief, to endeavour to bribe the chiefs of the Ghilzyes. Two lacs of rupees were offered. The chiefs gave a favourable reply, and then Macnaghten, with his usual instability, was seized with a suspicion that they were not sincere, and abruptly broke off the negotiations, thereby mortally offending the Ghilzye chiefs.
Fresh danger was threatening in another direction. Mahomed Akbar Khan, the second son of Dost Mahomed, was on his way with a force from the north, and had already advanced as far as Bamian. Mohun Lal suggested that an emissary should be sent to offer him a large allowance if he would join the British. His suggestion was carried out, and money was spent in other quarters lavishly.
But it was now too late. A quarter of the sum would, a fortnight earlier, have sufficed to satisfy the demands of all the chiefs of the tribesmen. Now that success had encouraged the assailants of our force, and the whole population had taken up arms against us, inspired alike by fanaticism and hatred and thirsting for blood, it was doubtful whether even the chiefs could restrain them had they chosen to do so.
In their letters and journals the officers still spoke with kindness and respect of their unfortunate general. He had been a brave and able soldier, but age and terrible infirmities had rendered him altogether incapacitated for action. He had for months been suffering from gout, and had almost lost the use of his limbs. Only once or twice, after his arrival to assume the command, had he been able to sit on horseback; for the most part he was wholly unable to walk. Sometimes he was confined altogether to his couch; at others he was able to be taken out in a palanquin. His mind was also enfeebled by suffering. On the very day of the firstoutbreak he had been a little better, and had mounted his horse; but he had suffered a very severe fall, and was carried back to his quarters.
It was altogether inexcusable that Lord Auckland, against the advice of the commander-in-chief and the remonstrances of his other military advisers, should have appointed such a man to a command which, beyond all others in India, demanded the greatest amount of energy and activity. There were many men who might have been worthily selected, men with a knowledge of the political conditions of Afghanistan, of the feelings of the people, of their language and of their country.
General Elphinstone knew nothing of these things, and depended entirely upon the advice of others. Had he relied solely upon that of Macnaghten, things might have gone differently, but he asked advice from all around him, and took the last that was offered, only to change his mind again when he heard the opinion of a fresh counsellor. He was himself conscious that the position was too onerous for him, and sent down a medical certificate of his incapacity for action, and requested to be relieved. The request had been granted, and he was to have returned to India with Macnaghten, but unhappily no other officer had been appointed to succeed him. It is upon Lord Auckland, rather than upon the unfortunate officer, who, in the teeth of the advice of his counsellors and of all common sense, was thrust into a position for which he was wholly unsuited, that the blame of the catastrophe of Cabul should be laid.
Macnaghten, in hopes that Brigadier Shelton, a brave officer, but hot-tempered and obstinate, would be able to influence the general and to put an end to the deplorable indecision that paralysed the army, persuaded Elphinstone to send for him to come in from the Bala Hissar to the camp and bring in with him a regiment of the Ameer's troops. He cameinto the cantonment of the 9th, and his arrival was hailed with the greatest satisfaction, as it was believed that at last something would be done. Unfortunately, however, Shelton's energy and the general's weakness were as oil on water. No two men were less calculated to pull together. Shelton enforced his arguments with a vehemence that seemed to the general insubordinate in the extreme; while the brigadier, on the other hand, was unable to make allowance for the physical and mental weakness of the general, and was maddened by the manner in which orders that had but an hour before been issued were countermanded.
On the morning of the 10th the enemy mustered in great force, and occupying a small fort within musket-shot of the defences, opened a galling fire. Macnaghten only obtained the general's consent to a party going out to capture the fort by telling him that unless he gave the order he should himself take the responsibility of doing so, for that at any risk the fort must be captured. Thereupon Shelton was instructed to take two thousand men and attack it. When they were on the point of starting Elphinstone countermanded the orders. Shelton, in a fury, laid the case before the envoy, who was as eager as himself, and the general was again persuaded to give the order and the force advanced.
It was intended to blow open the gate with powder, but by some accident only a wicket by the side of the main entrance was blown in. Led by Colonel Mackrell the storming party, consisting of two companies of Europeans and four of native infantry, advanced. They could with difficulty make their way through the narrow entrance, for they were exposed as they did so to a heavy musketry fire, but two officers and a few soldiers pushed through, and the garrison, believing that the whole column was following them, fled through the opposite gate. But unhappily they were not followed. A body of Afghan cavalry threatenedto attack the storming party outside, and these, native and British alike, were seized with an unaccountable panic and fled. In vain their officers endeavoured to arrest their flight. The events of the previous week had terribly demoralized them. Shelton set them a noble example by remaining on horseback alone, and at last shamed them into returning. Again the Afghan horse approached, and again they fled. Again Shelton's expostulations and example brought them back. The guns in the cantonments drove the Afghans off, and Shelton led his men up to the capture of the fort.
In the meantime the handful of men who had entered the fort had been engaged in a desperate struggle for life. The Afghans, discovering how small was the number of their assailants, re-entered the fort and fell upon them in overwhelming numbers. When Shelton's force entered, Colonel Mackrell had fallen mortally wounded, and was carried into the cantonments to die. Lieutenant Bird, with two Sepoys, were the sole survivors. They had, when the enemy poured in, taken possession of a stable and barricaded themselves there, and had successfully repulsed every attack. When they were rescued their ammunition was almost exhausted, but they were uninjured, and no fewer than thirty dead Afghans lying in front of the stable bore mute testimony to the steadiness and accuracy of their aim.
Several small forts were abandoned by the enemy, and a quantity of grain was found in them, but as no measures were taken to convey it into the camp, it was lost again when the troops retired. Desultory fighting went on all the afternoon without any decisive results, and the next two or three days passed quietly.
In the meantime the moonshee was making every effort to bring over some of the chiefs to our side. Macnaghten was sending off letter after letter to the political officer with Sale, urging the necessity for an instant advance of the forceat Jellalabad. On the 13th the enemy occupied a hill within range of the cantonment, and planting two guns there opened a steady fire. Macnaghten spent hours in endeavouring to persuade the general and brigadier of the absolute necessity for driving the enemy off the hill, but without success, and it was not until he took the responsibility upon himself that a detachment under Shelton was ordered to be sent. It was then four o'clock in the afternoon. The troops advanced in three columns, and the infantry rushed forward with such impetuosity that the two guns with them could not arrive in time to herald their attack. The detachment poured in a volley within ten yards' distance, but they were unsteady from their exertions in mounting the hill, and their fire took no effect. A minute later the Afghan cavalry charged down upon them. The attack was unexpected, the men in confusion, and the Afghans rode through and through the ranks. The British troops retreated down the slope, where they re-formed behind the reserve; the guns opened fire with great effect, and the infantry again marched up the hill.
Our cavalry now came into action and drove the enemy before them. The infantry carried the height, and the enemy fled, abandoning their guns. It was now getting dark. A party of the Ameer's infantry removed one of the guns; but the Afghan marksmen were keeping up a heavy musketry fire, and the troops, British as well as Sepoys, were so demoralized that they refused to advance and carry off the other. It was therefore spiked and rolled down the hill, while the smaller gun was brought by the Ameer's troops into the cantonment. The enemy, now strongly reinforced, attempted to intercept the retreat, but were beaten off.
On the 15th Major Pottinger and another officer came in wounded, and reported that the Ghoorka regiment that had been retiring from Kohistan had been entirely destroyed.They defended themselves courageously against overwhelming forces, and held the barracks they occupied until maddened by thirst; then they rushed to a stream, where the enemy fell upon them and cut them to pieces, the two mounted officers alone escaping after innumerable dangers. On the 17th Macnaghten heard that there was no hope whatever of assistance from Sale, who was himself surrounded with difficulties. He now urged that the force should all retire to the Bala Hissar, behind whose strong walls they could have maintained themselves. But Shelton vehemently opposed the step, which would have saved the army from destruction, urging that the abandonment of the cantonments would be an acknowledgment of defeat.
On the 23rd of November the enemy again appeared on the hill from which they had been driven, and a strong force moved out against it. Strangely enough, however, they only took one gun with them. The day was disgraceful as well as disastrous, for the British force was signally defeated and the gun was lost, and the troops re-entered the cantonment in headlong flight, hotly pursued by the Afghans till they reached the protection of the earthworks. Their conduct showed how completely the imbecility and vacillation of their commanders, and the effect of the insufficient rations on which they had to subsist, had destroyed the moral of the troops. The men who a month before could have driven the Afghans before them like sheep, were now unable to cope with them even when in superior numbers.
On the 24th Elphinstone addressed a letter to Macnaghten stating his opinion that their position could no longer be maintained, and that he should at once enter into negotiations with the enemy. He accordingly sent a message to the insurgent chiefs inviting them to send in a deputation to discuss the conditions of the treaty. Two of their leaders came in, but as they demanded that the British should surrender at discretion, giving themselves up, with all their arms, ammunition, and treasure, as prisoners of war, Macnaghten resolutely rejected the offered terms.
Angus had been constantly employed from the day he reached the cantonments. His work was to go out with small parties of the natives employed by the commissariat to bring in the grain that Boyd and Johnson had purchased. There was no slight risk in the work, for although the villagers were glad to sell their corn on good terms, the party who fetched it ran the risk of being cut off by any band of tribesmen they might encounter.
Of an evening he talked over the situation and prospects with the two officers. Absorbed in work as they all were, they were less influenced by the feeling of hopelessness than those who had nothing to do but to rage over the trap into which they had fallen through the incapacity of their leaders. Still, they did not attempt to disguise from themselves the magnitude of the danger.
"I have no faith in any treaty that could be made," Boyd said. "An Afghan is only bound by his word as long as it pays him to keep it. They will take Macnaghten's money, and will promise that we shall be allowed to go down the passes without molestation; but I am mistaken indeed if we shall not be attacked the moment we enter them. If they do so, few of us will ever get through. The men are weak now from want of sufficient food. They are utterly dispirited and demoralized, as is shown by their shameful flight yesterday. Besides, they will be encumbered with a host of camp followers, women, and children. I am still of opinion that our only hope is to take refuge in the Bala Hissar, and Shelton's vehement opposition has already put a stop to that. For myself, I would rather that they attacked us here, even if the attack meant our annihilation. It would be better to die so than cooped up hopelessly in the passes. At best themarch would be a terrible one. The cold is severe already, and we hear that the snow is deep in the passes; not so deep as to render them impracticable, but deep enough to render the passage a terrible one."
"Of course we are bound to stay with the rest and do our best to the end. Were it not for that, we three might escape. We all speak the language well enough to pass as natives. You, indeed, have already done so. However, of course that is not to be thought of; indeed, it would probably amount to the same thing in the end, for we could scarcely hope to reach either Jellalabad or Candahar."
"No, it is not to be thought of, Johnson," his companion said. "We have to do our duty to the last. I still hope that the general may yet have an hour of inspiration and deliver battle in good order. I believe that the troops would fight well if they did but see that they were properly handled."
On the following day they learned that Akbar Khan had arrived. He was greeted with great enthusiasm and much firing of guns. Macnaghten had a faint hope that he would side with us, as his father, mother, and brothers were in our hands in India; but, on the other hand, he had every reason for bitter animosity against the British, who had, without any ground for complaint, invaded the country and dethroned his father. The prince bore the reputation of being frank, generous, and far brighter and more cheerful than the majority of his countrymen; at the same time he was passionate and impulsive, given to sudden bursts of anger. The wrongs that he and his family had suffered were, indeed, at present predominant in his mind. For two years he himself had been an exile from his country. His father, who had tried so hard to gain the friendship of the British, had been dethroned by them; and as it was notorious that their captives were always honourably treated, he felt that no action upon his part would recoil upon their heads.
He himself was now the heir to the throne if he could win it. He was extremely popular among the people, who hailed his advent as giving them a leader whom they could rely upon, under whom the chiefs of the tribesmen could lay aside their mutual jealousy and animosity and join in the effort to drive the foe for ever from their country. He did not, however, at once assume the chief authority. The Nawab Mahomed Zemaun Khan, a cousin of Dost Mahomed, had been proclaimed Ameer by the tribesmen, and all orders were sent forth in his name. He was a man of humane and honourable nature, of polished manners, and affable address.
As soon as he learned the state of affairs, Akbar Khan took immediate steps to prevent further supplies being taken into camp. He burned the villages where grain had been sold, and placed bands of men to attack any parties coming out from the camp to purchase grain. Day after day passed, messengers came and went between Macnaghten and the Nawab, but nothing was done; the food supply dwindled; only three days' rations remained in camp.
The supplies doled out were scarcely sufficient to keep life together. The oxen and other baggage animals were in such a state of starvation as to be wholly unfit for service. The store of fuel had long been used up, some men died of cold, and all suffered much. Macnaghten was still hopeful, and early in December again urged a retirement, but in vain. The enemy had now guns planted in several positions, and kept up an almost constant cannonade on the camp. On the 8th there were but three days' half rations left, and the general informed Macnaghten by letter that it was absolutely necessary to surrender upon the best terms that could be obtained; and the three senior officers also signed the letter, saying that they concurred in it. On the 11th there was but one day's food left for the fighting men, the camp followers were starving. Again and again Macnaghten urged that a forceshould sally out and at all costs bring in provisions, but the general knew that the men could not be relied upon to fight. The time had come when even Macnaghten saw that all hope had gone save in surrender. He drew out the rough draft of a treaty, and met the leading chiefs of the Afghans at about a mile from the river.
By this treaty the British were to evacuate Afghanistan. They were to be supplied with provisions for the journey, Shah Soojah was to abdicate, and to have the option of accompanying them; but if he did so, his wife and family were to remain as hostages until Dost Mahomed and his family were released. The troops at Jellalabad were also to retire, as well as those at Ghuznee and Candahar. Four British officers were to be left as hostages, to return to India on the arrival of Dost Mahomed and his family on the frontier. The conference lasted two hours, and its main stipulations were agreed to. The meeting then broke up, on the understanding that the British troops were to evacuate the cantonments in three days, and that provisions should in the meantime be sent in. The treaty was a humiliating one, but Macnaghten was not to blame for it. When the three military chiefs had declared that there was nothing for it but surrender, he was forced to make the best arrangement he could, and the terms of the treaty were as good as could have been expected in the circumstances.
When the conference broke up Captain Trevor, one of Macnaghten's staff, accompanied the chief to the city as a hostage for the sincerity of the envoy. On the 11th the Bala Hissar was evacuated. Akbar Khan pledged himself to conduct the garrison safely to the cantonments, and kept his promise, succeeding in inducing the crowds of horsemen who gathered round to let the little detachment pass. The provisions, however, were not sent in as agreed, and the chiefs refused to send them until the garrisons were withdrawn from the forts they occupied round the cantonments. The parties were each suspicious of the other's good faith. On the 18th snow began to fall heavily. Macnaghten tried desperately to win over some of the chiefs, lavishing money among them. The Afghans made fresh demands, and demanded more hostages, and Lieutenants Conolly and Airey were handed over to them.
On the 22nd Akbar Khan sent in fresh proposals, to the effect that the British were to remain in Afghanistan till the spring, and then to withdraw as if of their own free-will. Shah Soojah was to remain as Ameer, and Akbar as his minister. As a reward for these services Akbar was to receive an annuity of £40,000 and a bonus of £300,000. Macnaghten accepted the terms, and agreed to meet Akbar. The offer was so strange that Elphinstone and others thought that it was probably a plot. Macnaghten replied that he did not think that it was so, but in any case he would go. After breakfast he sent for the officers of his staff, Lawrence, Mackenzie, and Trevor, who had returned, and begged them to accompany him to the meeting. An hour later they set out with a few horsemen. As they rode on Macnaghten admitted to his officers that he was well aware that it was a dangerous enterprise, but that he was playing for a heavy stake and the prize was worth the risk. "At all events," he said, "a thousand deaths are preferable to the life I have of late been leading."
The parties met at some hillocks six hundred yards from the cantonments, where some horse-cloths had been spread upon the snow by Akbar Khan's servants. Macnaghten presented to Akbar a splendid horse he had admired. They dismounted, and Macnaghten took his place on the blankets. Trevor, Mackenzie, and Lawrence sat behind him. Suddenly the envoy and his companions were violently seized from behind. The three officers were dragged away, andeach compelled to mount horses ridden by Afghan chiefs, who rode off through the crowd. Trevor unfortunately slipped from his insecure seat, and was instantly cut to pieces, while the other two reached Mahomed Khan's fort alive. In the meantime the envoy himself was struggling desperately on the ground with Akbar Khan. Exasperated by the resistance of his victim, whom he had only intended to seize, the Afghan's passion blazed out, and drawing from his girdle a pistol, which Macnaghten had given him the day before, he shot him through the body. Instantly his followers closed round and hacked him to pieces.
Thus died a gentleman who, in other circumstances, might have made a great reputation for himself. Possessed of unusual talent, his course was marred by his propensity to believe all that he wished, to disbelieve all that ran counter to his own sanguine projects. During the last month of his life he did all that man could do to avert a catastrophe, but he had been unable to instil his spirit into any of the military commanders, or to induce them to take the only course to redeem the position, by giving battle to the foe that surrounded them. He was the author of the ill-fated expedition to Afghanistan, he was its noblest victim. His peculiar temperament was fatal to him. Even when there was no longer any ground for hope he still continued to be sanguine. He had all along believed in himself, and scoffed at the warnings of men who knew the country and people—of Burnes, Rawlinson, Pottinger, and others.
He was thoroughly sincere; he was always able to convince himself that what he believed must be true, and he acted accordingly. He was not a strong man; had he been so the course of events might have been altered. He deferred in every way to Shah Soojah's wishes, however much these might be opposed to his own judgment. He allowed him to misgovern the country, to drive the natives to desperationby the exactions of his tax-gatherers, and to excite the bitterest animosity of the chiefs by the arrogance with which he treated them. A strong man would have put a stop to all this—would have intimated to the Ameer that he held the throne solely by the assistance of British bayonets, and that unless he followed British counsels he would at once yield to the oft-repeated wishes of the Indian government and order the retirement of the troops.
CHAPTER XV
A DOOMED ARMY
Eventhe murder of the British envoy within sight of the camp failed to arouse the military authorities from their deadly lethargy. Sullenly the troops remained in their cantonments. Not a man was put in motion to avenge the deed or to redeem the honour of the army. The only idea was to renew the negotiations that had been broken short by the murder of their political chief. The commissariat had nothing to do. Beleaguered as they were, it was impossible to collect provisions unless a strong force was sent out, and the military authorities refused to allow a man to be put in motion. They had no confidence in their soldiers, and the soldiers had none in them. It was their leaders who had made them what they were. Macnaghten in his wrath had spoken of them as miserable cowards, but they were not cowards. They had at first full confidence in themselves, and if ordered would gladly have attacked the Afghan forces in the open and have carried Cabul by storm. But kept in enforced inactivity, while fort after fort was wrested from them without an effort being made to relieve the garrisons,while the whole of their provisions for the winter were carried off before their eyes by an enemy they despised, and feeling that on the few occasions on which they were led from their entrenchments there was neither plan nor order—no opportunity for showing their valour, none for engaging in battle, they lost heart. Day by day they were exposed to continual insults from their exultant foes, day by day exposed to a heavy cannon and musketry fire, while the food served out was insufficient to maintain their strength—almost insufficient to keep them alive. It is not wonderful that their fighting powers were lost, and that they had become little more than a rabble in uniform.
Angus had now no official duties to perform, and he spent much of his time with his old friend Eldred Pottinger, now a major, who, after Macnaghten's murder, took his place, by right of seniority as well as of energy and talent, as chief political officer. He had been employed in the west, but had been sent to Cabul, and very shortly afterwards had proceeded to Kohistan, returning almost the sole survivor of the little force that was stationed there. His counsel since then had always been for energetic measures, but his voice, like that of Macnaghten, availed nothing. He had, however, taken no prominent part in affairs, having been confined to his bed by the wound he had received. He was now recovering from it, and took up the work with the same energy as he had displayed at Herat. As he said to Angus, "It seems to be my fate to have to do with incapable men. At Herat it was Yar Mahomed and Kamran, here it is Shelton and Elphinstone. Elphinstone and Kamran have both in their younger days been fighting men. Both are utterly worn out bodily and mentally by disease and age.
"Shelton is a brave man, a hard fighter, but his temper overmasters him. When in the field he shows personal gallantry, but no military capacity whatever. At first he wasalways in opposition to the general; he has given that up as useless, and beyond always endeavouring to thwart his chief when the latter was roused to momentary flashes of energy by Macnaghten, he has sunk into a deep gloom, as if he regarded it as absolutely hopeless to struggle further. I would that any other than myself had been placed in the position I now hold. The terms proposed to Macnaghten were hard enough, they will be still harder, still more disgraceful, now. But however disgraceful they may be, they will be accepted by the military leaders, and my name will be associated with the most humiliating treaty a British officer has ever been called upon to sign."
His previsions were correct. Negotiations were renewed without the slightest allusion being made to the murder of Macnaghten, and as if such an event had never happened. While these were going on, little food was allowed to enter camp—enough to sustain life, but no more. At last the terms were settled. The Afghan chiefs agreed to supply provisions, and to send in baggage animals, upon payment being made for them. Six officers were to be handed over as hostages, all muskets and ordnance stores in the magazines, all money in the treasury, and all goods and property belonging to Dost Mahomed, were to be surrendered, and Dost himself and his family to be returned. No provision whatever was made for the safety of the man we had placed upon the throne. Pottinger endeavoured in vain to obtain better conditions. He received no support from the military chiefs; and even when at last he agreed to the terms, he did so with little hope that they would be observed.
Warnings came from friends in the city that no dependence whatever could be placed upon the chiefs, and that in spite of all promises the force would certainly be attacked on its way down through the passes. No step was taken by the chiefs to send in either provisions or carriage animals,and the escort that was to accompany them did not make its appearance. On the 5th of January the military authorities determined to march out, contrary to the advice of Pottinger, who argued that without carriage and provisions, and without the protection of the chiefs as promised, the prospects of four thousand troops and twelve thousand followers being able to make their way down through the passes was small indeed.
Angus had come to rely very much upon Azim for information as to what was passing outside the cantonment. The latter had during the three years come to speak the Afghan language perfectly, and in the attire of a peasant often went out after dark, mixed with the insurgents, and entered the city. He had each time he went out brought back a less hopeful report than on the previous one, and Angus was the more impressed since the young fellow was generally cheery, and disposed to look on the bright side of things, taking indeed comparatively little interest in what was going on around him, having absolute confidence that his master would find some way out of any difficulty that might confront him.
"I quite agree with all you say, Azim, but I am powerless to act in any way. If I were here as a private person I should certainly disguise myself and endeavour to make my way down to Candahar, but as an officer I must remain at my post, come what may, and share the fate of the rest. But if you are disposed to try and get down, I will not throw any obstacle in your way, and will furnish you with money sufficient to pay your way either back to Persia or down into India, where, with your knowledge of languages, you will have no difficulty in finding employment."
Azim laughed. "No, master, whatever comes, I will stay with you. Just as you are in the employment of government and cannot leave, so am I in your employment."
Angus did not attempt to push the matter further, for he felt that it would be useless; and indeed, although he would have done what he could to procure his follower's safety, he felt that he would be a great loss to him in many ways. They had been so long together, and had gone through so many dangers in companionship, that he regarded Azim as a friend rather than as a servant.
"When you have been in the city, Azim, have you ever seen our friend Sadut?"
"No, sir; I have heard that he has been in the city many times, and that he was with the Afghan horsemen who drove our people in, but I have not seen him. Should I speak to him if I do so?"
"Yes, you might thank him in my name, and your own, for having saved our lives the other day; but on no account say anything to him about the future. I cannot make any overtures for help to a man who, though a friend of my own, is fighting against us. And indeed, however willing he might be to aid me to the best of his power, he could not do so. If we are really attacked in the pass, mixed up as we shall be with the camp followers, we could not be found in the crowd; and you may be sure that the tribesmen and the Ghazee fanatics will be mad with bloodshed and hate, and that even a chief would be unable to stand between them and their victims. Even if he were to send a messenger to me to say that he and his men would again save me, if I would let him know in which part of the column I shall ride, I should refuse to do so. It would be an act of treachery on my part to others, weaker and less able to take care of themselves than I am."
On the afternoon of the day when the force moved out of the cantonments Eldred Pottinger sent for Angus.
"Are you ready to undertake a hazardous mission?" he asked. "It is so hazardous that I would send no one uponit, were it not that I consider that those who stay here are running as great a risk. After the murder of Burnes and Macnaghten, I have not the smallest faith in the chiefs keeping to their promises, and the manner in which they have failed now to carry out the terms of the treaty heightens my distrust in them. I do not believe that any of the messengers that have been sent down of late have succeeded in getting through; and indeed, until to-day it was impossible to say whether we should really start or not. The messages sent down were necessarily vague, and were indeed only requests for aid. I know, and no doubt Sale knows, that it is as difficult for him to fight his way up the passes as it is for us to make our way down; but now that, in spite of my advice, Elphinstone and Shelton and the other officers have decided to wait no longer, but to start at once, a specific message must be sent."
"I am ready to try to get through," Angus said. "I have no doubt that while we have been negotiating here, the tribesmen from all the country round have been gathering in the passes. The only way would be for me to join some party of men from the villages going that way. Once fairly in the pass and among the tribesmen, I could leave the party and mingle with others. Of course it would be slow work going on afoot, but I should say that it would be quite impossible on horseback."
"I have not much hope that the mission will be of any real use, for Sale is himself besieged in Jellalabad. Still, one must make an attempt. I shall enter in my journals—trusting that they will some day be recovered—that as a last hope I have accepted the offer of Mr. Angus Campbell to carry a message to General Sale saying that we are starting, and begging him, if it be possible, to make a diversion in our favour by advancing as far as he can to meet us. I will not give you any written document. You are wellknown to many of the officers who went down with Sale, therefore no question can arise as to the message you bear being a genuine one. If you were searched and any letter found upon you, it would be your death-warrant. Still, I believe if anyone could get through alive, you can."
"I will do my best anyhow," Angus said, "and I will start as soon as it becomes dark. It is all easy enough as far as Khoord Cabul, after that I shall keep a sharp look-out; if I overtake any party of villagers I shall join them."
"I shall come and say good-bye to you before you start, Campbell."
Angus returned at once to his tent. "You have my disguise ready and your own, Azim?"
"Yes, sir, I have both ready, and have two of their long guns and some daggers and pistols."
"I have my own pistols, Azim."
"Yes, master, and it will be as well to take them; but they would be seen directly if you had them in your girdle."
"No doubt they would, Azim, but there are a good many English pistols among them now. There were three pairs they got at Sir Alexander's house, and there have been several officers killed since. I can give out that I took part in the fight at Sir Alexander's and got these pistols as my share of the plunder."
"Are you going anywhere, master?"
"Yes, I am going to try to get down through the passes to Jellalabad. We shall start as soon as it is dark. It will be a terribly dangerous journey, but I hardly think it will be more dangerous than going down with the troops."
"What are we to take, master? I will get it ready."
"There is not much that we can take. I will go down to the store myself and get eight or ten pounds of ground grain. There is not much of it, for the mills have all been smashed, and we have had to serve the grain out whole;but I know that there are two or three sacks left in the stores. There is no meat to be had, nor spirits—not that I would take spirits if I could get them, for if they were found upon me it would excite suspicion at once. Another thing, I must stain myself. My face and hands are nearly as brown as those of the Afghans, but if we were searched and they took our things off, they would see in an instant that I was a white. I don't know how we are to get stain."
"I should think, master, that if we were to bake some grain quite black, and then pound it and pour boiling water over it so as to make it like very strong coffee, it might do."
"A very good idea. Well, I shall not want you for the next two hours. I shall go round and see some of my friends and say good-bye to them. Mind, whatever you do don't say a word to anyone about our leaving."
"I will be sure not to do that, master."
Azim went out to a little tent of thick native blanket a few yards from that of his master. There he sat looking through the entrance until he saw his master leave his tent. Five minutes later he issued out in his Afghan dress, long coat lined with sheep-skins, black lamb's-wool cap, high boots, and sheep-skin breeches, and at once set off at a brisk walk. There were at all times many Afghans in the camp, and indeed many of the camp followers had, since the cold set in, adopted the same dress; therefore no attention was paid to him, and no questions were asked by the sentries as he passed out at the gates. As soon as he got among the gardens and enclosures he broke into a run, which he continued until he reached a village a mile and a half away, and here he entered one of the cottages.
"Have you news for us?" one of the four men sitting there said.
"Yes, and good news. My master starts as soon as it isdark. He will be on foot, and he is going to try and make his way down through the passes."
"That is good news indeed," the Afghan said. "I was afraid that we should never get a chance. Which road will he go by?"
"I can't say exactly, but he is sure to leave by the western gate. He would have more chance of getting away unnoticed on that side. Of course we shall both be in our Afghan dress."
"We will be on the look-out. I suppose that he will be armed?"
"Yes, he will carry one of your long guns and a brace of pistols. You had best choose some spot where you can close on him suddenly, for he would certainly fight till the last."
"We will be careful," the man said. "I don't want to get a pistol ball in my body. We shall follow at a distance until we find a convenient spot."
"He is sure to keep along at the foot of the hill so as to avoid your people on the plain."
"It will suit us best also, as we shall not have far to carry him."
"Mind, you must make a struggle when you seize me as if I was violently resisting. Then, when we start you must order me to walk, and threaten to blow out my brains if I try to escape. My master can learn the truth afterwards. If he were to know it now, he would be furious with me; but in a few days, when fighting is going on in the passes, and a great disaster occurs, he will thank me for having prevented him from throwing away his life, especially as he knows perfectly well that the English in Jellalabad could not come out to assist those here."
When Angus returned to the tent he found Azim busy roasting the grain. The Afghan costume had been laid aside.
"Everything is ready, master. The grain is nearly done, and it won't take me long to pound it up. I got a few sticks down at the stores and the kettle is just boiling."
"Then as soon as it is ready I will stain myself, but I sha'n't put on the Afghan dress until the last thing. Have you cooked some of the flour?"
"Yes, sir, I have made four cakes. They are baking in the ashes now. I thought perhaps you would eat one before we started, and we can carry the others for to-morrow."
"I wish, Azim," Angus said, "that there was some chance of this journey being useful, but I feel convinced that no good can come of it. The moonshee has sent in a report that confirms the rumours we heard. There can be no doubt that General Sale is strongly beleaguered in Jellalabad, and will have all his work to do to hold the place, and therefore it will be absolutely impossible for him to fight his way up the pass."
"Then why should you go, master?"
"Because I have been asked to go as a forlorn hope; and also because, however great the risk I may run, I do not think that it is greater than it would be if I went down with the army. We have no baggage animals. We have food for only three days more, and it will only last that time by cutting down the rations still further. The unfortunate camp followers are for the most part without warm clothing of any sort, and will die by thousands. As to the troops, I have no doubt that most of them will fight when they know that unless they cut their way through they are doomed, but their chance of victory is small. Here in the open plain they might even now, if well led and worked up to enthusiasm by a stirring speech, thrash the Afghans, numerous as these may be; but pent up in the passes, under a fire from every hillside by a foe they cannot reach—for in their present weak state they could never scale the mountains—I believe it will be a massacre rather than a fight. At any rate, if we are to be killed, I would rather be shot as a spy than go through such awful scenes as there will be before a bullet finishes me."
"I don't want to die at all, master; but if it be the will of Allah, so be it. But, as you say, I would rather be killed straight off than struggle on through the snows in the passes and get killed in the end."
As soon as it became dusk, Angus and his follower put on their disguises. A few minutes later Eldred Pottinger came in.
"Well, as far as looks go you will pass anywhere, Campbell, and certainly as regards language there is no fear of your being suspected. The real difficulty will be in explaining where you came from. Every village has sent its contingent of fighting men, and if it happened that you met anyone from the place you pretended to come from, the consequences would be very awkward."
"I intend to give out that I have come down from Arcab, which is a little village to the south of Ghuznee. I went out there once with a detachment to buy some cattle. It is hardly likely that any of the men from that place would have come here, for they would naturally join the bands that are threatening our garrison there. Of course I can invent some story to account for my not doing the same."
Pottinger nodded. "Well, Campbell, I hope that you will get well through it. As I told you, I have not a shadow of hope that Sale will be able to lend a hand to us. Still, although it is but one in a thousand chances, I feel that it ought to be attempted; and in your case I say honestly that I consider there is no greater risk in your going down by yourself, and having your own wits to depend upon, than in going down with the army—if one can call this broken anddispirited soldiery an army—for in that case the bravest and clearest head would share the fate, whatever that may be, of the dullest and most cowardly."
"I quite see that, and agree with you that nothing can be slighter than the chances of the army getting down safely. Be assured that whatever happens, so far from blaming you, I shall consider that you did the best for me by sending me on this mission."
"I will walk with you to the gate," Pottinger said. "In the daytime there is no check upon anyone passing in or out, but at night the sentries are on the alert, and as you are both armed, you would certainly be stopped."
A minute was spent in packing their scanty stores into the pockets of their coats, then they started for the gate. Here Pottinger, after seeing them through, shook hands cordially not only with Angus but with Azim, whom he had learned to like and value for the devotion he showed to his master in Herat. They proceeded on their way without meeting any parties of Afghans until they neared the foot of the hill, then, as they were passing along a path through an orchard, a party of men suddenly sprang out upon them, and they were thrown down on their faces before either had time to offer any resistance. Angus, indeed, had repressed the natural impulse to try to draw one of his pistols. Resistance would have meant death, and it seemed to him that these could only be plunderers.
"What are you doing, fools?" he exclaimed. "Do you not see that we are friends?"
No answer was given. His captors were binding his hands tightly to his side; then before raising him they muffled his head in a blanket. He was then lifted to his feet. He heard the men say to Azim that he was to accompany them, and that if he attempted escape he would at once be shot. A man on each side of him put his hands on his shoulder,and one said: "You are to walk quietly with us; escape is impossible, and it were well for you not to attempt it."
Angus indeed felt that escape was out of the question. He was unable to conjecture into whose hands he had fallen. They were not bent upon plunder, for had they been so, they would have taken his arms, searched him, and probably cut his throat afterwards. It seemed impossible to him that they could know he was a British officer, and the only conceivable explanation he could think of was that men had been scattered all round the cantonment to prevent anyone from leaving, or going out with messages to one or other of the chiefs, and that they had seen him and Azim come out, had followed and seized them, and were now taking them to some chief to be questioned as to why they were in the British camp after dark, and for what purpose they had left. Certainly the affair reminded him of his friendly capture at Cabul; but it seemed to him altogether impossible that Sadut could have learned that he was about to start on a mission, or that had he even learned it, he could have known that he and Azim would have followed the road on which they had been captured. He soon found that the path they were following was an upward one, and as it became steeper and steeper, he was sure that he was being taken into the hills.
Once or twice he addressed his captors, but received no answer. He walked, as far as he could tell, for two hours. At last there was a pause. He heard a door open, and felt that he was being taken into a hut. Then for the first time the pistols and knives were taken from his sash. His captors, after addressing a few whispered words to some men who were already in the hut, retired, closing the door behind them and piling heavy stones against it. The blanket was then taken off his head. A bright fire was burning in the hut, which he saw was some fifteen feetsquare. Four men, armed to the teeth, were standing by the fire. There was no door save the one by which they had been brought in, and it was evident that the hut consisted only of this room.
"You are unhurt, I hope," he said to Azim.
"Yes. I was knocked down before I had time to think of doing anything."
"Do you know where they have brought us?"
"No. They threw a cloth over my head."
"How could this have happened, Azim? I cannot understand it at all."
"No more can I, sir."
"When we started to fight against the infidels we never thought that we should be attacked by our own countrymen. It seems to me that there must be some mistake." Then he turned to the Afghans. "Why are we brought here? What harm have we done?"
"That I know not," the man said. "You must have done something, or our comrades would not have brought you here. That is their business."
"It seems to me," Angus said angrily, "it is our business too. Our tribe are not at war with any others, and it is a new thing that Afghans should attack each other when all are uniting to fight the strangers."
"I know nothing about it. I only know that our comrades brought you here, and left us to look after you. There are plenty of traitors among the men who have taken the infidel's gold. They will all be reckoned with when we have finished with the white men. Well, they did not tell us to keep you bound, and we will take off the cords if you swear by the faith that you will make no attempt to escape."
Angus hesitated. It seemed to him that if two of the four men slept he and Azim could, if unbound, snatch at their weapons, and at least make a fight for it; that chance would be gone if he gave his word.
"No," he said; "I will make no bargain with men who have deprived me of my liberty."
"Well, just as you like," the other said, seating himself by the fire, "it makes no matter to us."
"We may as well sit down too," Angus said, and advancing near the fire he sat down by the side of the Afghans. Azim did the same.
"Where did you say you came from?" the man who had been the spokesman of the party asked. Angus briefly named the village he had before decided upon, and then sat looking silently at the fire. He saw that his chance of being able to discover at present any plan for escape was very small. Presently one of the men said, "Let us have supper," and rising he went to a corner of the hut, where the carcass of a sheep was hanging from the rafters. He cut off a leg, divided this into slices, which he spitted on a ramrod, and then put it over the fire. In the meantime another had unceremoniously placed the four cakes that were taken from the captives in the embers to warm up. When the meat was done, the leader said to Angus: "We do not wish to starve you. We will untie the hands of one of you, and let him eat; when he has done, we will fasten him up again, and let the other eat in the same way."
This was done. When they were again securely bound Angus said in Pushtoo: "You may as well lie down now, friend. Perhaps in the morning the men who have taken us will find out that they have made a mistake and will let us go, with apologies for having treated friends so roughly." They lay down close together, but Angus was afraid even to whisper to his follower, lest it should excite the suspicion of their guard. For an hour he remained watchful, then he saw two of the Afghans lie down, but the other two lighted their pipes, and were evidently going to keep watch. He had tried quietly once or twice to see if the cords that bound him could be loosened, but he found that althoughthey had not been tied unpleasantly tight, they were securely fastened, and did not yield in the slightest to his efforts. He therefore gave up the idea of trying to free himself from them; and indeed, even if the guards should all sleep, the prospect was hopeless, for from the noise made in rolling the rocks against the door, it was certain that this could not be opened without waking the sleepers. It would therefore be necessary as a preliminary to kill all of them, and even then he might not be able to break open the door. At any rate, there was nothing to do at present. After trying in vain to discover an explanation of their capture he fell asleep. He woke several times in the night, but found that two men were always on guard. The next morning he heard the stones removed from the door, but no one entered. The Afghans breakfasted, and this time permitted their captives to share the meal with them. From time to time one or other of the Afghans went to the door and looked out, and at two o'clock one of them said, "The infidels are moving."
The others went out. "Have you thought of any way of escape?" Angus whispered in Persian to his follower.
"I can think of nothing," Azim murmured.