With the junction of the forces of Generals Stewart and Roberts, what may be called the second period of the Afghan war came to an end. All opposition had ceased, and it appeared probable that there would be no more fighting.

Abdul-Rahman, a prince of the royal house who–after for some time fighting against Sheer Ali–had been defeated, and obliged to fly the country; had, for a long time, been a resident among the Russians. Upon the abdication of Yakoub he had crossed the frontier, and had entered at the north of Afghanistan; assuming the title of Ameer. He had been well received in that part of the country, and as no other competitor for the throne appeared to have chances equal to his, and as the British government were most anxious to withdraw their forces from the country, his authority was recognized by us. Negotiations were opened with him; and it was arranged that, as he approached Cabul, the British force would retire.

The summer had passed not unpleasantly, at Candahar. The country was peaceful. Cricket matches were got up between the various regiments, and horse races established. Candahar was governed by a protege of the British, named Wali Shere Ali. He had organized a native army, to support his authority upon our withdrawal.

The only circumstances which occurred to mar the pleasing time were isolated attacks, upon British officers and men, by Ghazis. These attacks were sometimes made in broad daylight, in the streets of Candahar, where the escape of those who perpetrated them was impossible. These fanatics regarding their own life with indifference, so that they could but kill one or more of the British, before being cut down.

One day, as William Gale was walking in the principal street of Candahar, at a short distance behind Colonel Ripon–an Indian official of very long standing and experience, who had come up on a special mission to arrange, with the Wali, the details of the civil government of the province–he saw three Afghans, who were loitering in the road, draw their long tulwars and dash upon that officer.

The first who reached him delivered a sweeping blow; which the colonel, taken by surprise, partly received on his uplifted arm–but was struck to the ground. Another of the Ghazis raised his sword; but before it could fall Will Gale–who saw at once that he was too far behind to interpose between the assailant and the victim–drew his revolver from his belt and, taking a hasty aim, fired. The shot was an accurate one; the bullet striking the Afghan on the forehead, just as he was about to strike. He fell forward on the colonel; receiving, as he did so, a tremendous blow which the third Ghazi was aiming at the prostrate man.

Before the blow could be repeated, Will had bounded forward and, sword in one hand and revolver in the other, faced the two Afghans. Another shot freed him of one of his assailants; just as the other, rushing recklessly forward, aimed a blow at him–which he was not quick enough to parry. His right arm fell to his side but, in an instant, he threw himself upon his foe; and the two fell heavily to the ground, the Afghan striving desperately to shorten his sword, so as to use the point; while Will strove to liberate his left arm–which was under the man–and so use his revolver, which he still grasped.

At this moment some soldiers of the 66th ran up; and one of them, with his bayonet–which, since these attacks began, were always carried at the belt–brought the conflict to a conclusion, by running it through and through the Ghazi's body.

Will soon rose to his feet. Colonel Ripon had already freed himself from the body of the dead Ghazi, and had struggled to his feet; the blood streaming from his head and arm.

"I have to thank you for my life, sir," he said, warmly. "Had your aid come but two seconds less promptly, they would have finished me.

"But I fear you are severely wounded."

"Oh, no!" Will answered. "It is only a flesh wound, from my shoulder to my elbow. Luckily, my sword partly caught the blow. I was aiming at the other fellow, and had not time to parry fairly. I shall be none the worse for it, in a week's time. My wound is less severe than yours, sir."

"We are both bleeding pretty freely," the colonel said. "My quarters are close at hand and, as the principal medical officer lives in the same house, you cannot do better than come in with me."

In a few minutes their wounds were bandaged, the doctor saying that no serious harm had been done, in either case; but that care and quiet, lest fever should supervene, would be necessary for a week or two. As the house was much more airy, and commodious, than that in which Will was quartered, the colonel begged him so strongly to move his quarters thither, until able to return to duty, that Will agreed to do so; and was soon installed, with Yossouf in attendance, in the colonel's quarters. He was greatly pleased with the old officer, whose manner was most kind and courteous; and who, from his long experience in India, was full of anecdotes and information concerning the country.

Ten days after the struggle, the doctor told them that there was no longer any occasion for his services. Their wounds were healing favorably, and all fear of fever had passed. At the same time, it would still be some time before either could take their arms from their slings.

The following day, in honor of his convalescence, Colonel Ripon invited several friends to dinner; among them General Burrows, and Colonel Galbraith of the 66th. All had, of course, heard the details of the attack on Colonel Ripon; and Will was congratulated, warmly, upon the promptness that he had showed.

"Do you know, colonel," General Burrows said, as they were smoking their cigars after dinner, "there is a wonderful likeness between you and Lieutenant Gale. I should have taken you for father and son, anywhere."

The other officers agreed with the remark.

The likeness was certainly strong. Both were men of six feet in height. The colonel's hair and mustache were grizzled, and his face bronzed with the sun of many Indian summers. He was thin and spare of habit; but his shoulders were broad, and it was evident that, in his youth, he must have possessed much of the muscular strength which was apparent in Will's more rounded limbs. But it was in their eyes that there was the greatest similarity. Both were gray, and of nearly the same shade; both had a simple, straightforward, and kindly expression; both were shaded by straight, and rather heavy eyebrows.

The men looked at each other.

"I suppose he is like me," Colonel Ripon said; "still more like, I fancy, what I remember myself, at his age; but curiously enough he has–ever since I met him–been recalling some one else to my mind;" and a shade passed over his face.

Seeing that Colonel Ripon was not disposed to talk further on the subject, a fresh topic of conversation was started. There was news that Ayoub Khan–the brother of Yakoob, who was governor at Herat–was marching south, at the head of a large force, with the intention of opposing Abdul-Rahman, and again reseating Yakoob on the throne. He had also preached a holy war against the British.

"I fear that the trouble is serious," General Burrows said. "The troops Ayoub is bringing with him have not yet met us in the field. The population on the road is wild and fanatical, in the extreme; and will, no doubt, join him to a man. On the other hand, the troops of the Wali are not to be depended upon, and the brunt of the fighting is sure to fall upon us."

Three days later, the order was issued by General Primrose that the 66th Regiment, the Bombay Grenadiers, and Jacob's Rifles; together with the 3rd Scinde Horse and 3rd Bombay Cavalry, with a battery of artillery; were to move out with the Wali's army towards Girishk, on the river Helmund, which formed the boundary between the province of Candahar and that of Herat.

After the long period of inactivity at Candahar, Will was delighted at the thought of taking part in an expedition, with his regiment; but when they reached the Helmund life was, for some time, exceedingly monotonous. The news of Ayoub's advance greatly excited the population–who had been further worked up by agents, widely distributed through the country; and by the exhortations of the Mollahs and Ghazis. Consequently, rambling at any distance from the camp was forbidden; and the shooting parties, which had been one of the great resources of their life at Candahar, were peremptorily put an end to.

Colonel Ripon had accompanied the force, as the Wali's adviser. Both he and Will had recovered completely from their wounds. When the regiment first marched, indeed, the surgeon had strongly recommended Will to remain behind, until his wound had completely healed; but the young officer had so strongly begged to be allowed to accompany the regiment that the surgeon had consented. His colonel had, for a time, relieved him from all duty, and he rode in rear of the regiment; but within a fortnight of their arrival at the Helmund, he was able to lay aside his sling, and to take his turn of regular duty.

The officers did all that they could to make existence tolerable, on the sandy shores of the Helmund. They got up foot races and athletic sports for the men, played cricket on the sands, and indulged in a bath–twice a day–in the river. Will often spent the evening in Colonel Ripon's tent. A warm friendship had arisen between the two officers, and each day seemed to bring them closer together.

All this time, Ayoub's army was known to be approaching. It had been delayed by want of transport, and by the difficult nature of the country over which it had to pass. The guns, too–of which it was reported to have a large number–had greatly hampered it but, by the second week in July, it was near at hand.

For some time, the Wali's troops had been showing signs of insubordination; and little doubt was entertained that they had been tampered with, by Ayoub's emissaries. The question of disarming them was several times discussed; but the Wali maintained his faith that they would remain true to their salt, and the British force was so small that it was deemed imprudent to take any step to diminish their strength, by dispensing with the services of a strong body of men who might, after all, be faithful at the critical moment. Moreover, it was doubtful whether they would submit to be disarmed, by a force so inferior to their own. Should the attempt to disarm them succeed, they must either be escorted back to Candahar, by a strong detachment of the British; or be permitted to disperse, in which case they would assuredly swell the advancing army of Ayoub.

One day Will arranged to start, the next morning at daybreak, for a day's shooting with four other young officers–Hammond and Fortescue of Jacob's Rifles, and Plater and Lowther of the Grenadiers. The country round the camp had been already shot over, so they were to go some miles out. Will's colonel–in giving him leave off parade for the day–had asked him to endeavor to ascertain, at any village he might enter, the state of the feeling of the natives respecting Ayoub, and their disposition towards the British; points on which a deplorable ignorance existed, in the camp.

The party started before daybreak, putting their wiry little tats–or native ponies–into a gallop, so as to reach the spot–eight miles distant–where they were to begin to shoot as early as possible; so as to get two or three hours' sport, before the heat of the day really set in. After an hour's ride, they overtook their servants; who had gone on ahead, with the guns and luncheon. The sun was but just above the horizon, and the morning air was cool and pleasant.

Dismounting, they handed over the ponies to the servants and, taking the guns and ammunition, set out on foot. The servants were to go on, with the ponies and lunch, to a village in the hills, four miles distant; and to get tiffin ready, by eleven o'clock.

The young officers set out on foot, keeping a short distance apart. Two of their servants accompanied them, to carry the game; the other three went with the two Syces, who looked after the ponies The ground was broken and stony, and altogether uncultivated, except in the neighborhood of the villages. They had better sport than they expected, for hares darted out in numbers from behind the rocks. Some of these were bowled over, while others escaped; and there was much bantering and laughter among the young men, none of whom were first-class shots.

As the sun rose higher the game became more scarce and, by ten o'clock, the party turned their faces towards the village where they were to lunch; and which lay, they calculated, a mile or two away on their right. The sun was now blazing down upon them; and they were glad, indeed, when they came in sight of the village–which was not perceived until they were close to it, as it lay in a deep and rocky valley.

Yossouf met them, as they entered the village.

"Well, Yossouf, where have you laid the tiffin?"

"I have spread it, sahib, on a level piece of ground, in the shade of the chief's house. He did not seem disposed to be civil and, indeed, I thought that it would be more pleasant out of doors, in the shade, than inside."

"Much more pleasant, Yossouf; and these forts, as they call them, are generally stuffy places, with small windows. What is the feeling of the people here?"

"They are looking forward to Ayoub's coming, sir, when they say a holy war will be preached, and every man will rise against the infidels. When they found I was a countryman, they talked freely enough before me; especially as I led them to believe that I had been taken prisoner, at Cabul, and forced to accompany you as a sort of slave.

"I should recommend that, as soon as tiffin is over, you should start for the camp; for I don't think it is quite safe, here."

"They would never think of attacking us, Yossouf, with our force within an easy day's march."

"I don't know, sir," Yossouf said, doubtfully. "They say that the Wali's men are all with them; and that these, alone, are quite sufficient to eat up the three British regiments."

"They will find out their mistake, if they try it. However, Yossouf, I will let the others know what you think."

By this time, they had arrived at the spot where the lunch was laid out; and very tempting it looked, to hungry men. A great dish of curry–made with some fowls purchased in the village–was the principal dish; but there were some fish–which Yossouf had caught in the Helmund, on the previous day–a roast of young kid, and several dishes of fresh fruit. A large vessel of porous clay, containing the drinking water, stood close by; and the necks of some bottles of claret peeped, out from a tub full of water; while a pitcher of cold tea was ready, for those who preferred it. The young men set to with a vigorous appetite and, when the meal was over, pipes and cigars were lighted; and they prepared to enjoy a rest, until the heat of the day was past.

Will now told them what Yossouf had said.

"Oh, nonsense, Gale!" Hammond said. "Your boy is an Afghan, and these fellows are always dreaming about treachery.

"They are scowling, sulky-looking brutes," he said, looking at a group of natives, who stood watching them, with lowering eyes, "and of course, they hate us as infidel dogs but, as to attacking us, it's all nonsense."

"Well, you know, Hammond, these Ghazis do attack us, in all sorts of places–as I have found, to my cost–and these villages abound with these fanatics."

"Oh, yes," Fortescue said, lazily, "of course they do; but we have got our revolvers handy, and our guns are within reach of our hands. We should make precious short work of any Ghazis who were to run amuck among us.

"Well, I for one don't mean to move, till it gets a bit cooler. If these fellows want to attack us, they have got the chance, now; and there is no more reason they should do it, three hours hence, than when we are having our breakfast, quietly."

Chapter 19: The Battle Of Maiwand

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.