Through Three Campaigns: A Story of Chitral, Tirah and Ashanti

by G. A. Henty

He felt, however, that he must give his leg another day's rest before proceeding. On the following day he suffered a good deal from thirst, and dared not venture down to the river. When it was dark, however, he continued his way.

Presently he saw something white, huddled up behind a rock and, climbing up, he found that it was the dead body of an Afridi, who had fallen in the fight. Beside him lay his Lee-Metford rifle. This was indeed a find. In the scanty garments that he had alone dared to take, he would be known at once by anyone who happened to pass near him. He now set to work, and dressed himself in the dead warrior's garments; and took up his rifle and pouch of ammunition.

"Now," he said, "I only want something to stain my face and hands, and I shall be able to pass anywhere, if it does not come to talking."

He kept his eyes about him, and presently saw the plant which he knew Robah had used in preparing the dye for him. Pulling all the leaves off, he pounded them with the stock of his rifle, and rubbed his face with juice from the leaves. There was sufficient to stain both his face and hands.

By nightfall he entered the Maidan. Here he saw many natives gathered round the ruined houses. As he approached it, he saw that heavy firing was going on round the camp. It was greatly reduced in extent, and he guessed that a considerable proportion of the force had moved off on some punitive expedition. Between him and it, he could see many of the Afridis crouched among the rocks, ready to attack any small parties that might issue out.

He saw at once that it would be impossible to reach the camp without being questioned, and he therefore determined to fall in with the column that had gone out. For this purpose, he made a wide detour until he came upon a track where there were innumerable signs that a column had recently passed. Crushed shrubs would, in themselves, have been a sufficient guide; but there were many other tokens of the path of the army: grain dropped from a hole in a sack, scratches on the rock by the shod feet of the transport animals, an empty cartridge case, and a broken earthenware pot.

He pushed on rapidly, keeping a sharp lookout for the enemy. Some of them, passing along the hill, shouted to him to join them; but with a wave of his rifle and a gesture, showing that he intended to keep to the track, he went on.

Late in the afternoon, on mounting a high pass, he could distinctly hear firing in the distance; and his heart beat at the thought that he was near his friends. Still, between him and them the Afridis might be swarming. The risk, however, must be run.