For Name and Fame; Or, Through Afghan Passes

"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.

On returning to his friends, Will had resumed his uniform; and now, on reaching the fort, Captain Edwards expressed to him his warmest thanks for the hazardous adventure that he had undertaken.

"I shall, of course," he concluded, "furnish a full report of the affair to the general; and I should think he would recommend you for the Victoria Cross. If any fellow ever deserved it, you do so; for it seemed, to me, almost certain death to venture through the pass. I never expected to see you again; and I was never more glad, in my life, than I was when the firing began down below in the valley, and knew that help was at hand for, had you failed, it would have been all up with us. I doubt if we should have seen the morning and, at any rate, few of us would have been left, by that time."

The convoy reached Jellalabad without further adventure, and Captain Edwards reported to the general the events of the march. He was requested to give a full written report of the affair; and the general stated that, in forwarding it, he should certainly append a recommendation that Lieutenant Gale should receive the Victoria Cross, for his gallantry in venturing through the Afghans to fetch assistance for the convoy.

Will himself, as soon as he reached Jellalabad, hurried away to the cantonment of the Norfolk Rangers; who were in a village, a mile distant from the town. He was not recognized, as he passed through the soldiers scattered about the village street; and was soon at the principal house, where the colonel had his quarters. On sending in his name, he was at once shown into the room where the colonel was at work.

"I am indeed glad to see you," the latter said, rising and shaking him heartily by the hand; "and I congratulate you, most warmly, on your promotion. I promised to do what I could for you, when you joined; but I did not expect that it would be so soon."

"I am indeed obliged to you, colonel, for your kindness," Will said; "and am conscious how much I owe to you."

"Not at all, my boy, not at all. It was General Roberts, himself, who recommended you for your commission; and I was only too glad to back up his recommendation, to the best of my power. We all thought you were gone, when you were reported as missing at Ali-Kheyl, and we heard from the sentry that–having gone forward, to investigate the origin of a noise he had reported to you–you were suddenly fired upon; and that he saw no more of you, as he ran back to the picket. I was glad, indeed, when the report was received from poor Cavagnari that, upon his arrival at Cabul, he had found you there, just recovering from your wounds.

"Then, of course, we gave you up again, when we heard of the massacre of the mission; and it seemed like a resurrection from the dead when I got a letter from Roberts, saying you were found again, and that he was recommending you for a commission.

"I see by the Gazette you are appointed to the 66th, and we were expecting to see you on your way down. Had you any difficulty in getting through the passes?"

"The convoy was attacked, sir, by the tribesmen, when near Jugdulluk; but the garrison came out to our rescue, and we got through safely. But we had thirty men killed or wounded."

"A smart affair!" the colonel said. "And now, of course, you will take up your quarters with us, for a day or two, before you go on. The officers will all be glad to see you; and you will be able to tell us all about the attack on the mission, and the recent fighting. Roberts has been having some hot work, there.

"We have been grumbling horribly at our bad luck. We thought, at the time, we were fortunate at being sent back to India, when peace was signed, instead of being kept in the Khurum valley. But the consequence has been that we have been out of it all. However, we must look upon you as our representative."

Will hesitated about staying, but the colonel overruled his objection; saying that, as there would be no fighting until the spring, there could be no particular hurry for him to join his regiment. A spare room was placed at his disposal, in the colonel's quarters, and Will was soon made at home. The officers flocked in, upon hearing of his arrival; and all congratulated him, most warmly, upon his promotion. An hour later, a mounted orderly rode up to the colonel's quarters.

"Is Lieutenant Gale here?" he asked.

Will went forward.

"A note from the general," the orderly said and, handing it to him, "also one for Colonel Shepherd."

Will's note was simply an invitation to dine, that evening, with the general. The colonel's letter was as follows:

"Colonel Shepherd,

"As Lieutenant Gale was promoted from your regiment, I think it is likely that he has found his way to you. I have written to ask him to dinner; please spare him to me. I hope you will do me the pleasure of accompanying him. He has performed a most gallant action; and I have just had the pleasure of writing a dispatch, recommending him for the V.C."

Will and the colonel at once wrote notes, accepting the invitation. When these had been sent out to the orderly the colonel read aloud, to the officers present, the note he had received from the general.

"Now," he said, turning to Will, "what is that you have been doing? You told us the convoy had been attacked, and sharply pressed; but you said nothing of your share in the affair. What was it?"

"It was simple enough, sir," Will answered, coloring hotly. "We were surrounded, just at the mouth of the defile. The enemy held the valley in front in great force, and another party were pressing on our rear. Things looked awkward; and so I volunteered, with my faithful Afghan boy, to get through the fellows in front, and make my way down to Jugdulluk–which was four miles away–to bring the garrison up on their rear.

"It was simple enough and, in fact, there was less danger than in remaining with the convoy, to be popped at by the Afghans. The night was very dark and, down in the bottom, one could hardly see one's hand. The Afghans had been cleared pretty well off the road, by our fire; so there was no difficulty, whatever, in making our way down. We were, in fact, only questioned once; and my boy's statement, that we were wounded and were going to the rear, was accepted at once."

"The fact that you succeeded," the colonel said, "does not detract from the pluck required to attempt such an adventure. To my mind, there is more courage required in venturing, alone, through the midst of the Afghans, at night, than there would be in charging any number of them, in hot blood, in the light. You have earned the V.C. well, Gale; and I am sure we all feel proud of you, though you do not belong to us, now."

There was a chorus of approval from the officers around.

"I don't belong to you now, sir, but," Will said, earnestly, "I shall always feel, whatever regiment I may be with, that the Norfolk Rangers are my corps. It is the kindness which was shown me, here, which has put me in the way of rising; and I shall never forget it."

It was now time to dress for dinner; and Will, for the first time, arrayed himself in full-dress uniform. The buttons and facings he would, of course, get altered when he joined the regiment.

The general received Gale with great kindness. He had a large party to dinner. Among them was Captain Edwards; and after the table was cleared the latter–at the general's request–gave a full account of the attack upon the convoy; and Will was then called upon to relate the part which he had taken in it, which he did very modestly and quietly.

For two days longer he stopped at Jellalabad; and then, with a hearty farewell to the officers of the Rangers, he started down the pass. He again journeyed with a convoy for, although the tribes below Jellalabad were cowed into submission, many attacks were made, by the mountaineers, upon small parties going up or down the passes; and stringent orders had been issued that no officer should go down, except when accompanied by an escort.

After a week's traveling Will arrived, with Yossouf, at Peshawur. Then he rode, by easy stages, until he reached the Indus where, taking his place on a steamer, he traveled down the river to Sukkur; where he disembarked, and started for the weary march, across the desert, to the foot of the Bolan.

Along the road large numbers of coolies were at work, constructing a line of railway, which was now almost complete to the foot of the pass. It did not ascend this but, turning to the right, wound up the hills to the plateau. It was intended to be taken on to Candahar, and its completion would have been an immense boon, both to that city and to India; as it would have opened a great trade to the north, and have enabled the inhabitants of the fertile plain, around Candahar, to send their corn, fruit, and other products down to India. Unhappily, with the subsequent abandonment of Candahar the formation of the railway was stopped; and the whole allowed to go to ruin. The work has, however, been recently taken in hand again.

Will and his follower ascended the Bolan; stopped a day or two at Quettah, to rest their horses; and then proceeded on through the fertile plains of Pisheen, and over the Kojak Pass, and thence on to Candahar. Here Will joined his new regiment, and was well received by its officers.

In every regiment in the service, an officer risen from the ranks is invariably received with special courtesy, and kindness. Every endeavor is made to place him at his ease, in his new position. This is specially so when–as in Will's case–the promotion has been earned by distinguished services in the field.

In most instances, officers promoted from the rank of sergeant are a good deal older than the young lieutenants among whom they find themselves. Being often married men, and having nothing but their pay to depend upon, they find themselves, therefore, unable to take much part in the pleasures and gaieties of the regiment. In India, however, as the rate of pay is much higher, an unmarried officer can live very comfortably on his pay; and as, in the field, the expenses are far less than when a regiment is in cantonments at a large station–where there is much gaiety–Will found that he was able to live very comfortably, on his pay, in the same style as that of his comrades.

They, on their part, were pleased to find in Will a young fellow of the same age as the other junior lieutenants and, withal, a pleasant, gentlemanly young man. The fact, too, that he had seen so much service, had gone through stirring adventures, and had fought by the side of Cavagnari in the Bala-Hissar, made him quite a hero among them; and Will was soon thoroughly one of themselves.

When it was known that the regiment was likely to remain at Candahar for some time, many luxuries had been brought up from India; together with means of passing away the time, such as the necessary appliances for cricket, racket, and other games. Among these, too, were several boxes of books; and Will–who had, at first, a little amused his comrades by his absolute ignorance of cricket, but who soon became a promising recruit at that game–steadily devoted three hours a day to reading, in order to improve his mind, and to obtain a knowledge of the various matters which were topics of conversation among his comrades. Above all he diligently studied the newspapers–great parcels of which arrived every week–in order to obtain some knowledge of the political state of affairs in England, the position of parties, and the various matters occupying public attention.

He had, at first, found his ignorance of these matters a great drawback to him, in general conversation; but he discovered that newspapers, rather than books, are useful in enabling a man to mix with his fellows in social talk; and that the current events of the day form ninety-nine hundredths of the subjects of conversation. The fact that all his mess mates had been thoroughly posted in the history of Rome and Greece, that they could read these languages almost a well as English, that they had been coached in high mathematics, and had a knowledge of French and German, gave them–Will found–very little advantage in general conversation; and he was surprised to discover how entirely useless, from a practical point of view, is much of the instruction which must be mastered by young men, before obtaining a commission.

Many times, when talking with the young officers with whom he was most intimate, he inquired of them what good they found the learning they had obtained, during their many years of schooling; and was surprised at the universal reply: "No good, whatever!" He found, however, that some of the more thoughtful of them admitted that they had gained increased powers of thought, and reasoning, from their training.

"That is the good of education, Gale," Captain Fletcher–who commanded Will's company–said to him one day. "A certain time must be spent upon education, and the course of study is intended to strengthen and improve the mental powers. As far as soldiers are concerned, it would certainly be of more practical use if the time we spent at school on Greek, and mathematics, had been expended in acquiring three or four European and Indian languages. But you see, boys educated at the same school must all work together, and study the same books, whatever the profession for which they are intended is. Our practical–that is, our professional education–only begins when we go to Woolwich, or Sandhurst.

"Perhaps, some day, a different system will be employed. There will be special schools for lads intended for various professions, and careers. Till that is done, we must all work upon a common basis; which has at least the advantage of forming the mind, for the after work of acquiring the special branches of knowledge required, by us, in the careers we may adopt.

"If you ask my advice I should not, at your time of life, dream of setting to to learn the dead languages, or to study mathematics. Read the histories of Rome and Greece, and study that of your own country. Read books of travel and the biographies of great men, and keep yourself well posted–as you are doing–in current public events. You will then find yourself able to take part, on equal terms, in any conversation which may be going on. You will, indeed, be considered by strangers an exceptionally well-informed young fellow; and you may pass through life without any person having a suspicion that Latin, Greek, and mathematics–the cardinal points of an ordinary education–are wholly unknown to you."

Will was cheered by the advice and, henceforth, directed his studies only in the direction which Captain Fletcher had indicated.

At the beginning of April, a large diminution had taken place in the force stationed at Candahar; as General Sir Donald Stewart marched, with the greater portion of the force, for Cabul. The route led through a country which was the stronghold of the fanatical party–the important town of Ghuzni containing the most fanatical population in all Afghanistan. This had been the center whence the attacks on General Roberts had been organized, and it was deemed necessary to march a strong force through the country, to overawe the tribesmen, and break up their organization.

The march was uneventful as far as Shahjui, the limit of the Candahar province. At this point the Taraki country begins. The Mollahs here had been actively preaching a holy war, and several thousand men were reported as having collected. The villages were found to be deserted, and everything betokened an active opposition to the advance.