At ten o'clock at night, on the 1st of December, the troops detailed for the attack mustered in the camp. The assembly took place without sound of bugle, and even the necessary words of command were given in a low tone. Through the still night air the Afghans on the hills, little more than two miles away, would have heard the stir. It was a very dark night, although the stars shone clear.
"Where can we be going?" William Gale asked the soldier next to him. "We are going right away from the pass, instead of towards it."
"So we are!" the soldier replied. "I am blest if I know what we are up to, and it's so precious dark that I can scarcely see the file before me. I hope we ain't going to fight in the dark, anyhow. What would be the good of being a marksman, when you cannot see the end of your own rifle, let alone the man you are firing at?"
"Oh! We can't be going to attack in the dark," Will said. "I expect we have got a long march before us; and are going to work round, somehow, and take them in rear."
"Well, I hope whoever is acting as guide can see better in the darkness than I can; else we are safe to lose our way, and may find ourselves anywhere, in the morning.
"Confound it!" The exclamation was elicited by the speaker stumbling over a boulder, and nearly going on to his head.
"Silence in the ranks, there!" an officer said, close by.
Each regiment was followed by its ammunition mules, and hospital doolies--the latter being covered stretchers, or palkies, carried by natives. Besides these were dandies--or chairs--slung upon mules. This greatly added to the difficulty of a night march for, even in the daytime, the presence of baggage animals in a column, upon a narrow road, greatly hinders the troops and, at night, the delays occasioned by them are naturally very much greater.
For the first three and a half miles the column marched away from the enemy upon the Khotal, and the surprise of the soldiers increased at every step they took. At the end of that time they arrived at the village of Peiwar. Here they turned to the left and, after crossing several ravines, and stony water courses, arrived on a cultivated terrace; and kept along this till they reached a very stiff nullah, twenty feet deep.
The night was bitterly cold, the bank of the nullah was extremely slippery, and the boulders in the water course below coated with ice. The difficulty of getting the loaded animals across, in the darkness, was therefore very great. The passage of the various water courses caused great delays; and it was difficult to keep the column together, in the dark. At each passage, the rear was immensely delayed while the leading troops were passing; and these again had to be halted, while those behind them struggled over the difficulties. The men suffered much from cold, as the pace was so slow that they could not warm themselves; and the mounted officers specially suffered, in their hands and feet.
At midnight the ravine leading up to the Spingawi Pass was reached; but so dark was it that the 2nd Punjaubees, separated by a few yards from the regiment in front of them, marched straight on instead of turning up it; and the 22nd Pioneers, and the four artillery guns carried on elephants--being behind them--naturally went astray, also. Brigadier General Thelwall, who commanded the column, was at the head of his brigade; and was, for some time, unaware of the absence of two of his regiments but, after halting and finding that they did not come up, sent back a mounted officer who, after a two-mile ride, came up with the missing troops, and guided them back to the point where they had left the route.
From the foot of the ravine to the top of the pass is six miles in distance and, dark as it was in the open, it was still more so in the ravine, shadowed by the steep hills on either side. As the ascent continued the road became worse; the boulders being larger, and the holes and dried-up pools deeper. The darkness, and the prevailing white color of the stones, prevented the difference of level being observed; and many of the men had heavy falls, as the steep sides of these pools were often from two to four feet deep.
After marching for a mile and a half up the ravine, the report of a rifle was heard in the ranks of the 29th Punjaubees--who were leading the column--followed instantly by another discharge. Colonel Gordon--commanding the regiment--halted; and he and the general tried, in vain, to discover who had fired. No one could, or would, identify them; and this seemed clearly to prove that the rifles had been fired as a signal to the enemy, for they had not been loaded before the column started. The Punjaubee regiments contained many hill tribesmen--men closely connected, by ties of blood and religion, with the enemy whom they were marching to attack.
A non-commissioned officer and several of the men, who were just about the spot where the guns had been fired, were placed under arrest and sent back. It was afterwards found that two of their rifles had been discharged; and the men who fired, and their non-commissioned officer were tried by court martial for treachery, and were hung. After these men had been sent back, the 5th Ghoorkas, the company of Rangers, and two companies of the 72nd passed the 23rd Punjaubees, and took their places at the head of the column. In the course of the march a good many other men of the 23rd left the column, in the dark, and made their way back to camp.
It turned out, afterwards, that the Afghan sentries at the top of the pass heard the reports, and woke up the commander of the post; who, hearing no further cause of alarm, took no action in the matter. Had the traitors waited until the column was within a mile of the top of the pass, the Afghans would assuredly have taken the alarm but, firing at a distance of four and a half miles, they failed in the desired effect.
The advance was resumed, up the bed of the stream, for another mile and a half. About three in the morning the main water course was quitted, the road now entering a ravine to the left; up which, three miles further on, was the summit of the pass. The column continued its weary way up the ravine, slowly stumbling along in the dark.
One incident occurred, in this part of the road, showing the necessity, in night marching, for the regiments to keep close to each other. In one place a fir-covered island lay in the middle of the ravine, the torrent's bed lying on either side of it. When the two companies of the 72nd Highlanders--who had been following close to that of the Rangers--came to the spot, they were surprised to find that the troops in front had suddenly vanished. No explanation could be given as to the cause of this disappearance, so the company were halted until the mystery was solved.
The leading regiment had taken the passage to the right of the island, while the 72nd had gone to the left; the separation of the roads being unnoticed, in the dark. Had the roads diverged, instead of reuniting, much inconvenience might have been caused by the delay in collecting the separated portions of the force.
At last the foot of the Khotal was reached, where the track left the ravine and turned up the spur. The two guides--natives of the country, who had led the head of the column to this point--refused to go any further and, as the column was now at the point where the fighting might begin, they were allowed to depart.
It was about six o'clock when the Ghoorkas began to climb the spur. The morning had broken; but it was still dark, and the path was almost invisible in the shadow of the trees. The Ghoorkas--their rifles loaded now--made their way quietly up the hill. Presently the challenge of the sentry was heard, followed by two shots.
It was a relief to the men, after ten hours of weary stumbling along in the cold and darkness, to know that they were, at length, face to face with their foe. Cold and fatigue were at once forgotten and, with eyes strained through the darkness, and rifles ready for use, every man pressed forward. Fifty yards up the hill, behind the sentry who had fired, was the first stockade of the enemy; formed by several large trees, which had been felled so as to completely block up the road, presenting an obstacle of about eight feet high to the attacking force.
The Afghan pickets lining the stockade poured a volley into the Ghoorkas who, led by Major Fitzhugh and Captain Cook, made a rush at the place. For a few minutes there was a fierce fight at the trees but, as fresh assailants momentarily poured up, the obstruction was scaled; and the Afghans retired on a second stockade, eighty yards back. Here another stand was made but, the spur being a little wider, the Ghoorkas were able to work round and, taking the defense in flank, soon drove the Afghans back. Beyond this point the ground was clear of trees; and the road ran, in short zigzags, up the steep hill to the breastwork which lined the edge of the top zigzag. A mountain gun, at this point, swept the approach to the position; while the hill at its back was now covered with Afghans, who opened a heavy fire upon the troops as, in the dim morning light, they issued from the trees.
By the time that the Ghoorkas and the Rangers had cleared the second stockade, the wing of the 72nd Highlanders--ascending by the right flank--had made their way up to the front; and the whole now advanced together. As quickly as possible they pushed up the hill, under the heavy fire of the enemy. The latter fought well, and a number of them were killed before retiring. At the defense erected at the top of the zigzag, so obstinately did the Afghans in front hold their ground that their comrades, behind, were enabled to remove their mountain gun.
To the right of the enemy's position was a knoll, and the 72nd at once took possession of this; and two mountain guns were brought up to their assistance. The Afghans were seen, in great numbers, in the broken ground ahead. The Ghoorkas and the little body of Rangers pushed on against them. Presently the enemy gathered, and made a rush down upon them; and a desperate hand-to-hand fight took place, for a few minutes. The men were scattered among the trees, and each fought for himself.
William Gale had just reloaded his rifle when he saw Captain Herbert--who commanded his company--fall to the ground, and three Afghans spring forward to finish him. With a bound, Will reached the side of the officer. Two of the Afghans had already discharged their pieces. The third leveled and fired. So close was he that the flash almost burnt the soldier's face, and he felt a sharp pain, as if a hot iron had passed across his cheek. In an instant, he shot his assailant dead; and then, with bayonet, stood at bay as the other two Afghans rushed upon him.
Illustration: Captain Herbert saved.
They had drawn their tulwars, and slashed fiercely at him; but he kept them off with his bayonet until a Ghoorka, running up, cut down one of them with his kookerie--a heavy, swo............