In the midst of heavy rain he marched on the 15th of April to Khusht, and on the 16th to Loon; and then on the 17th, being well behind the worst defiles, he descended to the river bed again and crossed the Chitral River to Barnas, though the river at this point is not generally considered fordable, for it is breast-high and runs with rapid current. It was of course with only great risk that men could be taken across, but by linking them together in bands of ten or twelve, and by stationing levies in the stream to help men who might be washed off their legs, and to save kits which might be carried away, Colonel Kelly's force was able to effect the passage of this deep and rapid mountain river. A strategical move of the highest importance had thus been effected and an almost impregnable position turned without the firing of a single shot.
All this time Colonel Kelly had not been able to hear a single word from the garrison in Chitral, nor had he been able to pass a message in to them to give warning of his approach. He was now only two marches distant from Chitral, and the crisis of his arduous march was approaching. This date was indeed the turning-point of the whole campaign—Colonel Kelly had turned the enemy's last position; it was on this day that Lieutenant Harley made his brilliant sortie; and it was on this day Umra Khan was making his last futile effort against General Low's force. The high-water mark of the rebellion had been reached, and from now the tide began to turn rapidly.
On the 18th Colonel Kelly made a short march to Moroi and on the 19th arrived at Koghazi, only one march from Chitral. Here he received his first letter from the beleaguered garrison, and obtained the welcome news that the siege had just been raised and that the enemy had finally fled.
In the afternoon of April 20th the force marched into Chitral and joined hands with their comrades, who had for forty-seven days been invested within the fort.
This famous march of native troops from the plains of India, led by a mere handful of British officers, over a snow-clad range, through precipitous defiles into the heart of a country flushed with successful rebellion, will ever be remembered as a unique exploit of the Indian Army. The news of the success of the little force was soon spread throughout the empire. Everywhere the highest admiration was excited, and critics in the great armies of the Continent joined with ourselves in the praises of the high military qualities which its accomplishment showed that our officers and men possessed. Her Majesty the Queen immediately telegraphed to India her gracious approbation of this remarkable exploit, and the Commander-in-Chief in India, Sir George White, expressed his warm appreciation of the manner in which, in the face of extraordinary difficulties, the advance and operations of the force were conducted, and of the indomitable energy displayed by Colonel Kelly and the officers and troops under his command in overcoming them. The Commander-in-Chief considered the arrangements made for the crossing of the Shandur Pass, the perseverance and skill displayed by the officers, and the excellent behaviour of the troops worthy of the highest praise, and while commending all, recorded especially the important part taken by Captain Borrodaile and his detachment, who were the first over the pass.
A week after Colonel Kelly had reached Chitral Major "Roddy" Owen and myself, riding on ahead of the advanced parties of General Low's force arrived in Chitral. It was a bright sunny day, the country was clothed in all the fulness of spring, the young corn was waving in the fields, the blossoms were forming on the trees and all nature was smiling as we rode through the forty miles of country which separated Chitral from the advance guard which General Gatacre had just led over the Lowarai Pass. But the looks of the people were in striking contrast. Worn, trembling and utterly cowed the Chitralis shrank from even two British officers riding without an escort through their country. It was pitiable to see them. Men, whom a few months before I had seen gay as few but Chitralis in their contented moments can be, were now moving about with careworn faces, thin and exhausted. The people of Chitral had flamed up into rebellion, and were now lying burnt out like the charred remains of a firework. When I asked them why they had been so foolish as to fight us, they wrung their hands and said, "Why were we? We hate these Pathans; they have plundered our houses and carried off our women, but they were strong and close while you were far away, and we never knew you were so powerful as you are. We did not want to fight you, but we were led away."
It was only very few people, however, that we met as we rode through the villages, for most had fled to the hills, believing that General Gatacre's brigade, now just over the Lowarai Pass, was to advance and exact a terrible retribution by massacring them for the space of three days.
Late in the evening of the 27th of April, we rode into Chitral, and had the honour to be the first to congratulate the famous garrison and the officers of Colonel Kelly's force upon their splendid achievements. We found the officers just sitting down to dinner in the very house in which I had lived for many months, and in which Mr. Curzon and I on the previous October had entertained the late Mehtar at dinner. It was situated half-a-mile from the fort, and here we found Sir George Robertson and the other officers, recovered somewhat indeed from what Colonel Kelly's officers had found them, but still looking pale and worn, thin, and with the set, anxious look which had not yet left their faces. They were cheery; they brought out a long-treasured bottle of brandy from the reserve for hospital purposes, and they produced a Christmas plum-pudding which had only that day arrived, and insisted upon our sharing these luxuries with them; but even now they hardly realised that the struggle was yet over, and one or other of them would from time to time go round the sentries posted everywhere round the house.
One of the first subjects on which they spoke to us was about poor Baird. Few officers have ever attached their comrades more sincerely to them than did this brave officer, and he was one of the best and keenest soldiers in the service. He was noted for his tact and for the amiability of his character, and he studied his profession with the spirit of an enthusiast. His coolness was as remarkable as his zeal, and suffering though he was and knowing that he must die, he remained cheerful and collected to the last. He said that he would not have wished to die any other death than the soldier's death which he was now to meet; he had done his duty and led his men as a soldier should do, and he never regretted his fate. He gave a few last messages to those at home and then with a smile on his face and, thinking of his profession to the very end, wished his comrades success in their plans and bade them good-bye.