The garrison of Ali Musjid, having been left in unenviable quarters, and our fellow-soldiers in Afghanistan to enjoy themselves as they might in their isolated situation, we prepared to resume our march, and traverse the remaining four hundred miles, which lay between us and our advanced posts on the frontier of Ferozepore.
The infantry detachments, which had lately been engaged in the Khyber Pass, had not rejoined, but followed shortly afterwards, whilst the first column proceeded onwards through the valley of Peshawur.
On the morning of the 20th of November, we proceeded on our march, and encamped a few miles distant from the city. At this place, in the broad daylight, a party of plunderers from some adjacent hills came down and carried off many camels, which were grazing at little more than a mile from the lines. The rear-guard of the Lancers, immediately on the alarm being given, turned out in pursuit, and from a small knoll in camp, we had a favourable view of the chase.
The robbers, amounting to about forty, having got a good start, were pushing for the hills, about five miles distant from camp, and driving the camels before them at a round pace, pricking the bewildered animals forward with the points of their lances and cimeters. The dragoons gained steadily on them; but a few men of the irregular cavalry hung closely on their flanks and rear, and although they were too few to obstruct effectually the retreat of the banditti, yet they compelled them to abandon several stray and restive camels. As they neared the hills, the eagerness of the pursuers redoubled, and the camels dropped fast to the rear, bearing on their flanks severe marks from the weapons of their merciless captors. At length, the robbers, with the residue of their booty, were close to the foot of the hills, the dragoons were still half a mile behind, and the irregular horsemen, who were less than two hundred yards off, drew up, and gave a parting fire from their matchlocks, but without effect. With a shout of exultation, the mountaineers wheeled about to return the fire, when two gallant fellows from the irregular horse, dashing round their flank, threatened an impediment to their line of retreat. The chances seemed, for a moment, to be against the bandits, for none of them appeared willing to encounter their daring opponents, and whilst wavering at the foot of the heights, the dragoons had come within a few hundred yards. Choosing the least of two evils, the marauders, driving the remainder of their booty before them, rushed, en masse, upon the unfortunate irregulars, who were unhorsed, but unwounded, ascended the hills, and dispersed in many directions amongst the gullies and ravines which intersected the face of the mountains.
Barely a dozen camels were altogether secured by the marauders out of nearly a hundred which had been seized. During the pursuit, many villagers from the plains turned out to offer assistance; for these mountaineers are unfriendly neighbours to the agriculturists, and scruple not, when urged by necessity, to take whatever may be useful to them from the unwarlike and helpless dwellers in the plains.
From hence, crossing an extensive plain, we encamped near the banks of the Caubul river on some greensward, and under a grove of trees.
This was a most luxurious day's residence, and the prospect was more English than anything we had hitherto seen in the East, or perhaps I should have rather said, Irish, for the mud huts of the country bordering Peshawur bear a close resemblance to Irish cabins, although the unclean animal, that prominent feature at the threshold of most dwellings in the Emerald Isle, is here considered an unwelcome guest.
A traveller desirous of conciliating the natives of this country must needs be choice in the selection of animal food; for in this district—from Peshawur to the Jhelum river—dwell the Mussulman population of the country, whose abhorrence is a pig; across that boundary the imperious Sikhs look with pious horror on beef-eaters, for one of their deities is a bull. The pea-fowl and pigeon are also held in much veneration by the Sikhs, notwithstanding the ungodly voice of the bird of Juno, and the destructive habits of the sacred pigeons. The allurements of immortality, however, compensate for the loss of temporal possessions, and the depredations of the sacred fowl are viewed with indifference, and by the more devout, with satisfaction.
On leaving the Caubul river, we passed again over tracts of desolate plains and barren hills, until we reached once more the banks of the Indus, on the 26th of November, at the fortress of Attok.
About a mile above Attok, the Caubul river forms a junction with the Indus, and the united streams rush with great rapidity in a deep and narrow channel under the walls of that ancient and gloomy fortress. A temporary bridge of boats had been thrown across the Indus, opposite to the gates of Attok, which enabled us to cross the river without much delay, at the end of the morning's march. At this season, the breadth of the river did not exceed one hundred and fifty yards, and the cavalry crossed the bridge without dismounting. From the approach on the Caubul side, Attok presented rather a formidable appearance, with its extensive and massive parapets frowning over the dark floods beneath; but at the junction of the two rivers, about one mile higher up, a passage might easily be effected with a pontoon train, where the guns of the fort would be nearly inoffensive. When once landed on the left bank, the fortress would not present a very formidable obstacle, for the hills immediately above the town afford an excellent position, whereon batteries might be placed which would command both the town and fort at a range of something less than six hundred yards.