The servants were squatting in a circle near their masters, and enjoying their share of the breakfast.  The two Syces were Beloochees, the others were men from the Deccan ­the regiment having been stationed at Poona, before going up into Afghanistan.  Of these, the Syces alone understood the Afghan language.

After the men had finished their meal, Yossouf strolled away by himself into the village.  When he returned, Will saw that he wished to speak to him so, rising carelessly from the ground, he walked to the ponies ­which were tied up near ­and called Yossouf, as if to give him some instructions respecting them.

“Well, Yossouf, what is it?  Have you learned anything?”

“No, sir, nothing.  But the people no longer speak to me freely.  They must have guessed, when they saw me speaking to you, that I was warning you; but I don’t think things are right.  The children are all in the houses, instead of playing about in the street.  A few of the women are standing at their doors, but most of them are inside, too.”

“But if the men are thinking of attacking us why shouldn’t they do so, at once?”

“There are not above twenty or thirty men here, sahib.  They may not think they are strong enough.  Perhaps they have sent to some of the villages, for help.”

“Likely enough, Yossouf; I did not think of that.  Do you go up above the village, and have a good look round.  I will try and persuade my friends to be moving.”

Yossouf moved off at once; and Will stood for a minute or two, thinking what was the best to do.  The position was not pleasant.  Yossouf’s suspicions might be altogether unfounded; but Will had found him to be so uniformly right, on former occasions, that he did not like to neglect his advice, now.  After a little further thought, he joined his companions.

“Come,” he said, “we had really better be moving.  I believe we are in real danger.”

The earnestness with which he spoke roused the others, who were all lying at full length on the ground.

“But as we said before, Gale,” Fortescue urged, “why shouldn’t they now attack us, if they wanted to?  We have been here more than an hour.”

“Perhaps they may think we shall all take a nap, after our tiffin,” Will replied; “perhaps ­as Yossouf thinks ­they have sent off to some other villages, for assistance.  He has gone up the hillside to look out.  Anyhow, I can assure you, I think we had better be moving.”

“It is beastly hot,” Hammond said, getting up and stretching himself; “but as you are so earnest about it, Gale, perhaps we had better make a move.  As you say, you know no end more of these fellows than we do; and you certainly ain’t a fellow to get into a funk about nothing.

“Come on, boys, we had better do as Gale tells us.”

“That’s right,” Will said, cheerfully.  “And look here, if we get away from here without any disturbance, and find it all right, we can halt again, at the first shady place we come to; and stop there for two or three hours, till it gets cool.”

“Wait a moment,” he went on, as Hammond was about to order the ponies to be saddled.  “Just let us settle what we had best do, should they attack us; which, if they mean it, they will do when they see we are moving off.

“I have been thinking it over.  We have all got bullets in our pockets, to drop into our guns over the shot, in case of necessity.  But these smooth-bore fowling pieces are of no good, except at close quarters; while the Afghan matchlocks will carry straight, a long way.  Therefore, if we had to make a running fight of it, we should get the worst of it; for these fellows could keep up with us, easily ­besides, there are the servants.  Therefore, if a shot is fired, my advice is that we should make a dash at the chief’s house.  Seize that, and hold it.”

“Yes, that would be a good plan,” Fortescue said, for they were all sobered now, by Will’s gravity; and convinced that there must be good grounds for his belief in danger.

“Look here, Gale, we are all senior to you in the date of our commissions, but you have seen no end of service and adventure; therefore I vote that you shall be commanding officer, until we get back to camp.”

The others willingly agreed.

“Very well,” Will said, “I will do my best.

“Hammond, will you tell your servant to get ready for a start, at once.  Speak to him quietly and carelessly.  Then, as the men move up more towards the ponies, tell them ­in Hindustanee ­to go about their work quietly but, in case of any trouble with the Afghans, to out with their swords, and join us in a rush at the chief’s house.”

Hammond carried out his instructions.  The two Beloochees were not taken by surprise; for they, as well as Yossouf, had been feeling uneasy at the disappearance of all women and children from the scene.  The other men looked startled; but they were stout fellows and, as all the native servants, were armed with swords, to enable them to resist sudden attacks by the country people; and as they had unbounded faith in their masters, they went about the work of packing up the plates and dishes, and preparing for a start, quietly enough.

As the Syces began to put the saddles on the tats, the Afghans spoke quickly and angrily together.  Two or three minutes later, Yossouf arrived.  He had evidently been running, for his breath came quick; but he now walked forward in a leisurely way.

“Two large parties are coming, master; one down the valley, and the other across the hills.  They have got flags with them, and I am sure they are going to attack us.”

Just at this moment an Afghan lad joined his seniors, and spoke rapidly to them.  Will judged at once that he also had been placed on the watch.  The chief of the village, accompanied by two or three of his men, now stepped forward.

“Ask the sahibs,” he said to Yossouf, “why they are in such a hurry ­why they want to start in the heat of the day?  They had better wait till it is cooler.”

Will did not wait for Yossouf’s translation, but answered direct -  

“We have duties at the camp, and must return at once.”

The chief was surprised that one of the young officers should speak his tongue so fluently.

“It looks as if you were not pleased with the hospitality of our village,” he said, “that you should hurry away so quickly.”

“We are content with it ­so far ­but we must be off, now.

“Bring up the ponies quickly,” he said to Yossouf.  “Never mind those things, there is not a moment to be lost.”

Yossouf and the servants brought up the ponies.  The chief laid his hand on one of the bridles, and drew a pistol.

“Kaffir dogs,” he said, “you shall not leave us, at all.”

Will’s hand was already on his revolver and, before the chief could level his pistol, he fired; and the Afghan fell dead.

There was a shout of rage from the others, and their long matchlocks were leveled It was well the party were prepared, or all might have been shot down, at once; but the instant Will fired, his friends raised their double-barreled guns to their shoulders and let fly the contents among the Afghans who ­thrown into confusion by the sudden and unexpected attack ­fired wildly, several of them dropping, from the effects of the shot.

“Now,” Will shouted, “to the house, everyone of you!”

There was a rush and, before the Afghans knew what had happened, the little party had burst through those standing at the door of the house, and had barred and bolted it within.  There were but two men inside; and these, running upstairs, leaped from the windows.  A wild screaming was heard from the women and children.

“Yossouf, tell these women that we don’t want to hurt them; but that they must be silent, and keep the children quiet, We have got enough to think about without this frightful row, inside.  Then, when you have got them quiet, put them all in one room together, upstairs, and keep guard at the door.  See that none of them leave the room; for they might steal down and open the door, to admit their friends, while we are busy.

“What!  Fortescue, are you hit?”

“I am done for!” the young officer replied, faintly; “one of their bullets has gone through my body; but never mind me, now.”

As he spoke he tottered, and would have fallen; had not the others supported him, and gently laid him down on a heap of skins, which served as an Afghan bed.  Then ­leaving his servant to attend to him, for a minute ­the others ran upstairs, to see what was going on, without.

“Be careful!” Will exclaimed.  “Don’t show a head above the roof, or at a loophole, or you will get a bullet in your brain, to a certainty.  Stand well back, so that they can’t see you.”

Already a pattering fire of musketry had broken out, round the house; but not an Afghan was to be seen, every man having taken his position in shelter.

“There is nothing to do, at present,” Will said.  “When the other parties arrive, they may make an attack; but I don’t think they will do so, till night.

“Hammond, you had better go down to Fortescue, at present.  One of the Syces can take Yossouf’s place on guard over the women, and he can help you.  The lad is a good nurse, but I fear there is nothing to be done for the poor fellow.”

A few minutes later a wild outburst of shouts and yells, and a great firing of guns, announced that the other parties had arrived; and the cracking fire of the matchlocks around the fort became incessant.  The defenders did not attempt to return it.  It would only have been throwing away lives, uselessly, to approach any of the loopholes.  In a quarter of an hour, Hammond rejoined his companions.

“He is gone, poor fellow!” he said.  “He never spoke again.  The bullet went close to the heart.  I think he has bled to death, internally.

“I have handed his revolver to one of the Syces, and his gun to the other.  Your man, Yossouf, has a revolver.”

“What on earth are we to do now, Gale?” Plater asked.  “You have been right thus far and, if it hadn’t been for you putting us up to make a rush here, we should have been done for, long ago.  But we are not much better off; for here we are, cooped up, and the betting is a hundred to one against our being rescued, in time.  No one will know where to look for us and, though we may beat them off two or three times, in the end it is likely to go hard with us.”

“Couldn’t we send a messenger, with the news of the fix we are in?” Lowther asked; “though I don’t see how any one is to get through.”

“That’s what I have been thinking about, ever since I first planned coming here,” Will said; “but I am sure no one could get through.  The Afghans know the importance of it and, when it gets dark, they will be so thick round the place that a mouse couldn’t make its way through them, unobserved.”

The situation was gloomy enough; but there was no lack of good spirits among the young officers, the danger causing their blood to course rapidly through their veins.  Will sat on the floor, apart from the others.  They had made him their commanding officer, and the responsibility of thinking for them devolved upon his shoulders.

Suddenly a thought struck him, and he leaped to his feet, with a shout.

“I’ve got it!”

“You will get it, if you don’t mind,” Hammond said, dryly; as a bullet passed through one of the loopholes, and struck the wall an inch or two from Will’s head.  “But what is it?”

“When it gets quite dusk we will call a parley, and tell them we don’t want to keep the women here.  They are only in our way, and eat up the food; so we will open the door, and let them go.”

“But what will you do that for, Gale?  You were saying, a short time ago, that the women could be kept as hostages.”

“So they might, Hammond; but it will be more useful to us to let them go.  There are seven women here.  Six of them shall go out; and with them, in the clothes of the seventh, Yossouf.”

“Capital!  Capital!” the others exclaimed.  “Don’t you think they will notice him?”

“No,” Will said, “we won’t do it till dusk, and some of these women are as tall as he is.  They will hurry them away as quickly as possible, so as to recommence the attack and, wrapped up as these Afghan women are, no one could see the difference.  Once fairly away, we can trust Yossouf for finding an opportunity of slipping away, and bringing us help.”

Will now laid the plan before Yossouf, who at once agreed to attempt it.  The day passed slowly, the fire of the enemy being kept up, without intermission.

“Now,” Will said at last, “it is getting dark enough, let us put the plan into operation.  In the first place the women must be separated, and taken into separate rooms; the one Yossouf has fixed upon, as nearest his height, into a room by herself.  Then Yossouf must tell the old mother of the chief that they are to be released; and that she must show herself on the roof, and make them stop firing, till they have gone out.  While she is doing that, he can slip down and dress himself in the robes of the woman.  She must be gagged, to prevent her screaming, or making a row, as her companions go out.”

Greatly surprised was the old woman, at being told that she was to be released.  These Kaffirs must be mad, she thought, to give up their hostages.  However, she at once proceeded to carry the orders into effect.

Before raising her head above the roof, she uttered a loud quavering cry ­the cry of welcome of the Afghan women.  The firing without instantly ceased.  Again raising the cry, she stepped out on to the roof; and shouted that the English did not want to keep the women, and that the door would be open for them to come out ­providing the Afghans promised that no attempt to enter should be made, and that none should move from their present places, until the women had fairly left.

There was a shout of surprise and satisfaction; and one of the chiefs rose to his feet, and gave the promise in the name of his companions.

“How many are there of you?” he asked.

“Seven,” the woman answered.

“Are the children to come?”

“We may take away the babies, but the three boys are to remain behind.”

Five minutes later the door of the fort opened, and seven figures came out.  Not a shot was heard, until they had passed down the street of the village, and had entered a house at the further end; then the rapid fire commenced again.  Twice, during the evening, did the Afghans attempt to storm the little fort, but were each time repulsed, with loss; the fire of the five double-barreled guns ­loaded with shot and bullets ­and of the revolvers proving too much for them.

The second attack was made about eleven.  A quarter of an hour later, wild shouts were heard outside.  There was an instant cessation of the enemy’s fire; and then, in the silence, the deep thundering sound of galloping horses was heard.

“Hurrah!” Will shouted, “here they are.”

A minute later, the Third Bombay Cavalry dashed up to the fort.  The door was thrown open, and the little garrison ran out.

“All safe?” the officer in command asked.

“All safe, except Fortescue ­who was killed at the first attack.”

“So we heard, from your boy,” the officer said.  “He has ridden back with us, as guide.

“Now, lads, dismount and clear the village.  Shoot every man you find, turn the women out of the houses, and then set them on fire.  Don’t waste any time over it, for the rascals are swarming round the place.

“Captain Lawson, you take your troop and dismount it as skirmishers, round the place; and keep them off, till we have done here.

“Here, you four men who brought the powder kegs, carry them inside this fort.  We are going to blow it up, to give them a lesson.”

Ten minutes later, the cavalry were again in their saddles.  Spare horses had been brought for the four officers; and the servants mounted the tats, which would be able to keep up with the cavalry.  The flames were already bursting out brightly from the houses.

The yells of the Afghans rose high, and their bullets flew thickly over the village; but they kept at a respectful distance.  The officer in command gave the word, and the party set off at a trot.  Before they had left the village a deep roar was heard, and they knew that the Afghan fort was destroyed.  Two hours later they arrived safely in camp; where the four rescued officers were warmly congratulated, on their narrow escape, by their friends.

On the 14th of July, the conspiracy among the Wali’s troops came to a head.  They openly mutinied; and marched out, with their cannon and arms, from the camp.  This was situated at a short distance from that of the British, and Colonel Ripon was the first to gallop in with the news.

Unfortunately, the British commander was not a man endowed with promptness of decision; and no steps were taken, until the mutineers had proceeded a considerable distance.  Then the cavalry and artillery were despatched, in pursuit.  Had the order been given at once, there can be no doubt that the Wali’s force would have been completely cut up; and those who escaped would have arrived a mere horde of fugitives, for the most part without arms, at Ayoub’s camp.

Late as was the pursuit it was not ineffectual.  Six British guns opened fire upon the Wali’s artillery ­which was in rear of the retreating column ­with such effect that the gunners were seized with a panic and, cutting the traces, fled for their lives.  A good many were cut down by the British cavalry, and the six guns deserted by them were brought into camp.

Colonel Burrows’ little force now stood alone; for he had with him but 1500 infantry, 500 cavalry, and six of his own guns, besides those taken from the mutineers ­a force altogether disproportioned to that with which Ayoub was advancing; swelled, as it was, by the accession of the Wali’s army.  A message was sent to General Primrose at Candahar, asking for reinforcements; but that officer, although he had a considerable force at his disposal, declined to despatch any reinforcements, whatever.

News now arrived that Ayoub, instead of marching direct upon Girishk, had crossed the Helmund higher up; and was moving across the country, by a line parallel with the road from Candahar to Girishk.  By this movement he would have the option of placing himself either between Colonel Burrows’ force and Candahar; of marching direct upon the latter city; or of keeping to the north, and coming down upon the road between Candahar and Shahpur, and then marching direct for Cabul.  Under these circumstances General Burrows determined to fall back, at once, to a spot where he might oppose Ayoub’s advancing force.  Accordingly, the brigade marched from the Helmund to a village called Khusk-I-Nakhud, and there encamped.  General Nuttal, with the cavalry, made reconnaissances in the direction of the enemy.

The people of the country held altogether aloof, and no accurate information was obtained as to the strength of Ayoub’s army; which was believed, by General Burrows, to be very much smaller than it really was.  Early in the morning of the 26th, it was known that Ayoub was marching upon Maiwand ­a village farther to the north ­and at half-past six, the troops moved out to intercept him.

It was at this time believed that it was only the enemy’s cavalry with whom we should have to deal.  Upon arriving near Maiwand, however, news was brought in, by spies, that the whole of the enemy were at hand.  The force was at once halted, in a position singularly ill-adapted for a fighting ground.  Deep ravines ran both to the right, and to the left, of the ground occupied by the British.  By these, the enemy could advance under shelter, until within a short distance.  On either side were ranges of hills, completely commanding the position.

It is difficult to imagine a more unsuitable position than that which General Burrows prepared to hold, with a mere handful of troops, against an enormously superior force.  What was the total strength of Ayoub’s army was never exactly known ­as it was swollen by enormous numbers of Ghazis, and tribesmen from the villages.  These were, in fact, far more formidable opponents than the regular Afghan troops; as their tremendous rushes, and indifference to the loss inflicted upon them, were trying in the extreme for even the best-trained troops to withstand.

The morning was thick, and but little could be seen of Ayoub’s army.  His cavalry, indeed, were found to be moving about in large masses; but these fell back, at our advance.  Lieutenant Maclean ­with two horse artillery guns, and a small cavalry escort ­galloped out on the extreme left, and opened fire on the Afghan cavalry.  His infantry at once appeared in force, swarming down towards the guns; and these were withdrawn, to a position nearer to our line.

The British infantry were formed in the following order - the 66th were on the right, the Bombay Grenadiers in the center, and Jacob’s Rifles on the left.  Two guns were placed in position to support the 66th, on the right.  The remaining four British guns, and the six smooth-bore guns ­captured from the Wali’s mutineers ­were placed between the Grenadiers and Jacob’s Rifles.  The 3rd Scinde Horse and 3rd Bombay Light Cavalry were formed in the rear of the line.

As the enemy advanced, our guns opened a heavy fire upon them; but it was fully an hour before their artillery replied.  Then thirty guns were unmasked, and opened fire upon the British line.  Under cover of this heavy fire, swarms of the enemy’s irregulars advanced towards our position.  When within 600 or 700 yards of the 66th, the British opened with their Martini rifles; and the shower of lead, at such an unexpected distance, checked the advance of the enemy.

For some time the artillery duel continued; but the enemy’s guns were then moved on to the hills, on either side of the British position, and a terrible crossfire was opened from both flanks.  At about two o’clock, the smooth-bore guns began to get short of ammunition.  Only sixty rounds had been captured with them and, there being no reserve of ammunition fitting them, they ceased fire.

The position now became most serious.  From the ravines on either side the Ghazis swarmed up, in vast numbers.  The artillery thundered from the heights upon our troops.  Some of their batteries were brought up to within very short distances; and great numbers of the enemy, keeping along the ravines sheltered from our fire, came up in the rear and seized the villages there.

The companies of Jacob’s Rifles on the left; after resisting, for some time, the furious attacks of the Ghazis, began to waver.  The enemy’s cavalry swept down in heavy masses; while our cavalry ­for some reason which has never been explained ­remained inactive.  The general has stated that he ordered them to charge, but that they would not do so; the cavalry affirm that they never received orders.  Anyhow, at this critical moment the 3rd Scinde Horse and the 3rd Bombay Cavalry remained inactive.

The confusion amid Jacob’s Rifles rapidly grew, in spite of the efforts of the officers to rally them.  The Ghazis swept down upon them; and the Rifles broke in confusion, and rushed among the Bombay Grenadiers who ­hitherto fighting steadily ­also fell into confusion, as the Rifles and Ghazis burst into their ranks.

“This is hot work,” Will Gale said to his captain, when the enemy’s guns, on the heights on either side, began to play on the line of the 66th with their flank fire.

“It is, indeed,” the officer answered, “and the fire of the enemy, from the edge of that ravine, is very trying.  I wish to heaven the general would move us farther back.  He has made a hideous mistake in fighting on such ground as this.”

“It would be difficult to withdraw, now,” Will said.  “It would shake the confidence of the men.  I think, myself, that we ought to advance, and drive the enemy before us, till we take up some really defensible position; but I doubt if the Afghans would wait for that.  In all our history, a British charge against an Indian enemy has always been successful, no matter how great the odds.”

“It is a bad lookout,” the captain said, as a shell burst close by him, killing and wounding five or six men.  “It is quite evident that if we stay where we are we must, in time, be annihilated.  Our fellows will stand, no doubt; they are English soldiers, and well officered.  But how can one expect the two Indian regiments ­with only three or four white officers, each ­to remain steady, under such a fire as this, and with these desperate charges of Ghazis upon them?”

Very steadily the 66th held their ground, in spite of a flanking fire of artillery and musketry.  Every time the enemy gathered at the edge of the ravine, for a rush, the heavy fire of the company on the flank ­which was wheeled back at a right angle to the line, so as to face them ­drove them back to shelter again.  The regiment had suffered very heavily.  Still, the officers felt that they could endure, till nightfall.

Of victory, there was now no idea; for to conquer, men must act and, here, they were only called upon to suffer.  Presently a wild tumult was heard to the left; and then the men of the scattered native regiments burst, in a tumultuous mass, into the ranks of the 66th.

“Steady, men, steady!” shouted the officers.

But it was of no avail.  All was in hopeless confusion.  The artillery fired, until the Ghazis were within a few yards of them; then they hastily limbered up, and fell back.  But the Ghazis were too close at hand, and two of the guns were lost.

Even now, had the cavalry charged upon the Afghans, time would have been given to the broken infantry to form again into a solid mass, and to draw off from the field in good order.  But the cavalry remained inactive.  Both these regiments had a record of good service in the field; but their conduct, on this occasion, was little short of disgraceful.

Among the infantry all order was lost and, mixed up in a confused mass, hemmed in on all sides by the enemy, they fell back ­each man fighting for himself ­upon the village behind.  Here, in the walled enclosures, the 66th and the Grenadiers rallied, and fought nobly.  Each house was used as a fortress, and only carried after a desperate struggle.  Here Colonel Galbraith, and nine other officers of the 66th were killed; and the greater portion of the regiment shared their fate.

Some bodies of the troops ­entirely cut off from the rest, in their retreat ­stood their ground in the open, and fought desperately to the end; surrounding themselves, ere they died, with a ring of slaughtered enemies.  So desperate was the defense in some cases that ­outnumbering them fifty to one ­the enemy never dared to come to close quarters with the gallant band; which kept up a rain of fire on them, till the last man had fallen.  So long and stoutly was the village defended, that the great majority of the broken fugitives had time to pass out behind.

General Burrows ­who had done his best to stem the rout ­drew off the shattered remains; and fell back with them, in fair order.

Will Gale’s company was in the right flank of the regiment and, therefore, farthest from the point where the line was broken by the rush of the native troops.  Seeing what was taking place, the captain formed his men into company square; and fell back to the village, in fair order.  The company then threw itself into a house, with a walled garden, to the right of the village; and its steady fire, in no slight degree, helped to keep back the Afghans, and cover the retreat.  This they did, until General Burrows himself rode up, and ordered them to fall in.

“Your company has done good service, sir,” he said to Captain Fletcher; “and it is for you, now, to cover the retreat.”

Slowly and in good order the company fell back and, joining the troops who still retained their formation, retired slowly; facing about, and pouring volley after volley into the Afghans, as they came out through the village.  For two miles, the enemy pressed closely upon them; but their loss had already been immense, and all desired to join in the plundering of the British camp.  Therefore the pursuit slackened and, three miles from the village, the rear guard were ordered to the main body, at quick march.