EVEN the 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,[Pg 250] 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 was[Pg 251] always 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,[Pg 252] 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."
[Pg 253]
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 upon[Pg 254] it, 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 well[Pg 255] known 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;[Pg 256] 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 is[Pg 257] dark. 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.
[Pg 258]
"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 ca............