The three mountain columns met with little opposition as they made their way up the spurs overlooking the Agror Valley. The Headquarter Camp was established at Khaim Gali, near the summit of the range, and from that point General McQueen directed the movements against the various villages. After about a fortnight General Channer, commanding No. 1 Column, was able to open up communication with General Galbraith in the valley below, at Kunhar. The latter at the outset had met with some slight opposition at Kotkai, resulting in the loss of two officers and five men, but had since made considerable progress up the river, and had moreover come to an understanding with the tribes in his immediate neighbourhood. The mountainous nature of the country made it extremely difficult to secure unity of action in the two regions. It became imperative that General McQueen should know what General Galbraith had done and had promised. To effect this purpose Gatacre offered to make his way down on foot to Kunhar, where the River Column had its headquarters.
Visits Galbraith
By this time he was fairly well acquainted with the lie of the country, for he had been out daily with the columns, and, according to his colleague, Major Elles,[[5]] "had worked harder than any man in the force." He must have known that the direct descent from the ridge on which the Headquarter Camp at Khaim Gali was situated was a series of precipices. Taking the figures given on a map compiled for the expedition of 1891, the elevation of Khaim Gali is 8,680 ft., while the camp at Kunhar in the Indus valley is 1,560 ft., which means a clear descent of 7,120 ft. in a horizontal distance of less than five miles, though the distance actually marched worked out at fourteen miles. Major Elles accompanied Colonel Gatacre, and they took an escort of fifty Khybari Rifles. The party left camp at 6 a.m., and reached Kunhar at noon. Although it was then October, the sun had great power in the middle of the day; the narrow valleys down which they crept were very stuffy, and as they approached the end of the journey the air became very close and oppressive. Major Elles confesses that he felt the sun very much, was tired out, and "could not have attempted the climb back again that day. But nothing," he says, "seemed to tire Gatacre, who was the hardest man I ever met. He neither drank nor smoked, and ate very little."
[[5]] Now Lieut.-General Sir Edmond Elles, G.C.I.E., K.C.B.
After settling the business that was the motif of the journey, and partaking of the hospitality of the River Column headquarter mess, Gatacre announced his intention of starting back at 2 o'clock. The men who acted as escort were dismayed at the Colonel Sahib's startling decision; indeed, only half of them were capable of setting off at once, but these insisted on being allowed to do so. Half-way up the mountain they were dead-beat; and as a small party able to take their place had been accidentally met with, the services of the newcomers were impressed, and Gatacre proceeded. It is a question for mountaineers whether the descent or the ascent was the more trying to a man's muscular system, and a question for Anglo-Indians whether the sun is hotter in the forenoon or the afternoon; anyhow, it must have been fairly fierce at 2 p.m. in the deep gorge of the Indus, and to have reached Khaim Gali again the same evening was an achievement worthy of mention in despatches. We are told that the first part of the ascent was very precipitous for about 2,500 ft., and impracticable even for mule carriage; the next 1,500 ft. was nothing but a succession of steps. Farther on, the line lay across terraced cultivation, which involved climbing up the walls supporting the fields, and walking across the soft plough which they enclosed, while throughout the march there were "passages which were impossible for anything but a goat."
At 11 p.m. that same night Gatacre marched into the Headquarter Camp at Khaim Gali, the only man who had completed the double journey. The two marches had occupied six hours and nine hours respectively, and two hours only had been spent in the triple business of negotiation, refreshment, and repose.
This feat did not pass unnoticed at the time. The editor of the Broad Arrow of October 20, 1888, says:
"The story is suggestive of physical endurance and courage, and may be read with profit by fireside warriors and cynical philosophers upon the decline of the British officer."
Active service