By the evening there was no one left in sight to chase, so we halted and made preparations to camp where we were. Only a few hours before we had known that if the truth of our numbers had leaked out not one of us would live till night to tell the tale. Fortunately the secret had been well kept, and, although we had only accounted for seven of the enemy, it was obvious we had won a decisive victory. Jiand's entire force was scattered and demoralised, and it would take him a considerable time, even when he did learn how he had been tricked, to collect them again.
He was a very notable man, with enormous power and prestige, not only with his own tribe, the Yarmahommedzais, but with all the nomad tribes of the district, and was regarded as a personage by the Governments of both India and of Persia. His defeat would be a very bitter pill for him to swallow. Although he was looked on by the Ismailzais and the Gamshadzais as a sort of over-lord, even of their own Chiefs, there was always great rivalry between the various tribes, and he would know that Juma Khan, whilst outwardly sympathising with him, would, in reality, be jubilant.
Accordingly, and for the sake of his own prestige, he must make the most of the forces brought against him. That very evening I learned from one of his men, who had been overtaken and brought back as a prisoner, that he had given out that he had had seven hundred men killed and amongst the number was his own favourite son. The death of this son, I afterwards found, was a bitter blow to the famous old Chief, and I have always been sorry that he credited my hand as being the one which had struck him down, though this was absolutely untrue.
Seven men multiplied by a hundred was not bad as a free advertisement. But I determined to go one better.
"Seven hundred!" I retorted to the trembling prisoner. "Nonsense! If you had said seven thousand, it would be far nearer the mark."
Now the great thing was to make the most of our almost bloodless victory near Koh-i-taftan, and pursue Jiand and his men as far as possible amongst the rocky fastnesses of the hills into which they had fled. If only the old ruffian could be persuaded to surrender before the bluff was called, it would be just possible to make the other tribes think that the whole game was up, and so make terms with us; thus obviating a long and harassing campaign.
So we pursued him for two days, as far as Kamalabad, his own special winter headquarters, nearly overtaking him. But he just eluded us as we entered the place by riding out at the other end, and so escaped into the Morpeish Hills, where it was quite hopeless to think of following him with our very small force.
On the other hand, if we left him there, he became an hourly menace. It could be only a question of time before Jiand would be bound to learn how he had been duped. He would then collect his men once more, summon the other tribes to his assistance, and wipe out our little force as he might have done, had he only known, at Koh-i-taftan.
Moreover, news had just reached us of an untoward little incident which had occurred away to the West of Robat. A small British force had been operating in the vicinity of Nasaratabad-sippi (not to be confused with Nasaratabad in Seistan) and this force had been attacked in overwhelming numbers by the Ismailzais, under Juma Khan. It had suffered considerable loss, not only in men, but in mules, rifles, and, most important of all, ammunition. The British officer commanding had fought ably and had averted disaster, but the losses had been sufficient to create a rumour that Juma Khan had scored an exaggerated victory.