Raiders of the Sarhad

But no race, white or coloured, ever held in respect man or government showing weakness or indecision, and, as the foregoing pages prove, it was of little use attempting to make friends with these tribesmen without first inspiring them with a wholesome respect for British arms.

As we approached Sinukan I directed my Brigade Major to form two separate camps as I wished to seize Jalk by surprise that night with a portion of my force. My idea was to leave my transport and other encumbrances under a sufficient guard at Sinukan and with the remainder to move off secretly to carry out my intentions. Great care was taken to keep my idea secret, and only a few officers knew my intention. So well was the secret kept that my personal servant, Allah-dad, brought me my tea next morning only to find my bed empty.

At midnight, very quietly we roused the troops and marched off. Before dawn we arrived outside the town. It was only at the very last moment that the Gamshadzais, who had learned that I had gone straight back to Sinukan, and, in consequence, had not anticipated an attack that night, got wind of our approach. They were, therefore, taken completely by surprise, and utterly lost their heads. As we charged into the place with the cavalry they all took to their heels and rushed out on the other side, leaving many arms behind them. Within a very few minutes the two forts were in our hands.

My men soon rounded up the few Gamshadzais who had remained in the place, which seemed otherwise to be full of women and children.

To my embarrassment three large ramas of weeping women and children were presently led up to where I was sitting under a tree on the bank of a stream. I was then informed that they were all mine.

Some of them, in tears, asked me what I was going to do with them.

I replied, "I don't know. But at any rate I am English and not a German. What would you like me to do with you?"

They seemed bewildered at first, and without understanding, but when I assured them that I was speaking seriously, and really wanted to know what they would like to do, they soon found their tongues and made known the fact that they would like to go to their own homes.

"Is that all?" I replied. "Well then, go."

Their faces which, at first, shone with joy soon fell again. "But, Sahib, we have nothing left. You have captured all our possessions."

"But I don't want them," I returned. "Take everything that is yours and go."

Their thanks were then overwhelming, but I cut them short. "Wait a bit before you thank me so much. No Englishman ever makes war against woman and children – but there are your men. If I catch them, after all the trouble they've given me, I shall certainly kill them."

"Kill them then, Sahib," they said scornfully. "They deserted us, and ran away, when you and your lashkar came in. It is all they deserve."

As a matter of fact I learned, soon afterwards, that the Gamshadzais had not only run out of Jalk, but right out of the Sarhad, to take refuge in other districts. By thus evacuating their own country they acknowledged their final defeat.

It is reasonable to suppose that this humiliating end to their opposition would never have occurred had Halil Khan been alive. He, at least, would have been game to the last. He would have died fighting at Jalk – as he had indeed died at Gusht – or he would have surrendered with dignity. Halil Khan was a fine man, and without his leadership the spirit of his men at first faltered and then failed.

It seemed then that, by this last action with the Gamshadzais, the prestige of the British had been completely restored throughout the Sarhad. In the West, Juma Khan, leader of the Ismailzais, had faithfully kept his word to, and had demonstrated his friendship and loyalty for, the British cause, ever since he had pledged both at Kacha. In the centre of the district the Yarmahommedzais had been completely defeated in open action. In the East the Gamshadzais had abandoned their arms and had bolted from the country.

There was now nothing left to be done.

We, therefore, returned, marching easily to Khwash, where, very shortly after our arrival, I received letters from both the Yarmahommedzais and Gamshadzais asking to be allowed to return to their respective homes in the Sarhad, and on any terms that might be imposed.

I had had eight months of continual work in the hot weather of the Sarhad and was very near the end of my tether. As a fact I was, by that time, suffering badly in health in many ways, and our medical officer insisted upon an immediate return to India for a long rest.

As the Sarhad was now completely ours, and as it only remained for the political officers to dictate terms to the tribes, I listened to the advice of that medical officer, applied for leave to return to Simla, and was, in due course, granted it.

But, though the need for rest in a cooler climate was urgent, it was with real regret that I said goodbye to Khwash, the centre of so many hopes and fears, and the scene of such dramatic happenings.