Here it was that the Gurkhas and the Highlanders rushed on together side by side in a memorable charge, none of them knowing the strength and number either of the enemy or his further stockades. In the uncertain light of early dawn they drove the enemy up the hillside like chaff before the wind. For a time the Afghans fled in disorder, then suddenly they rallied and prepared for a wild charge downhill. Major Galbraith of the 85th Foot was the first to see their intention, and he immediately directed the fire of his men to demoralise and check this movement. While he was doing this an Afghan crept up behind some bushes, and, levelling his rifle at him, took careful aim. Suddenly the Major observed him, and, with the rapidity of lightning, raised his revolver and pulled the trigger. The weapon missed fire, but his prompt action had disturbed the Afghan's aim, and in another moment Captain Cook of the Gurkhas had closed with the native and flung him heavily. There was a quick fight between them, during which Major Galbraith, more fortunate this time with his revolver, sent a bullet through the Afghan's heart. For his brave act in saving the Major's life Captain Cook gained his V.C. But the nation was compelled to mourn this hero very soon, for it was in the following campaign at Sherpur, while leading the Gurkhas, that he was mortally wounded.

By the dawn of day the Gurkhas and the Highlanders, with the assistance of the 29th Punjabis, had taken some important positions, and by the time the sun rose the enemy was defeated.

This victorious campaign was carried on through the craggy ravines of Sappri as far as Siafooden, where the Afghans made a stand and gave battle a second time; but here again the Gurkhas and the Highlanders were the principal factors in their defeat. The subsequent brilliant rush on Shaturgardan Pass was also made glorious by these Highlanders of Britain and Asia. The campaign ended on May 26th, 1880.

Again, in the third Afghan war, the Gurkhas, in common with different regiments of Highlanders and some native regiments, won great distinction.

Sir Louis Cavagnari, who had concluded peace after the first campaign, undertook a personal mission to Kabul. This time the mission was well received—at least at first—but there soon came a time when the Afghans, taking advantage of the necessary inferiority in the numbers of our peaceful mission, insulted it, at first vaguely, then openly, apparently with the idea of goading the Governor to a quarrel. Insult on insult gave fuel to the fire thus aroused, and at last, when the insults became unbearable, the Governor and his staff protested so vigorously that the Afghans seized their opportunity and massacred them. Immediately following on this came the declaration of war by Shere Ali. After the preliminary battles at Charasiah and Asmai the British force advanced to Kabul. There was very severe fighting around the capital, and another sharp engagement at Asmai, after which our troops found themselves entrapped in Sherpur. Here the Gurkhas won a lasting glory for themselves by the recapture of some of our guns which had been taken by the enemy.

During this campaign the Gurkhas took part in the battle of Sijazabad. Here the enemy took up a strong position on the side of a steep hill, which they had further strengthened by barricades of earth and stone. From one to another of these they were driven point by point by the determined assault of the 4th Gurkhas, 14th Punjabis, and the 9th Foot. This was a battle in which all our outnumbered forces, especially the Gurkhas, showed remarkable élan. For many hours the Gurkhas stormed one barricade after another, always driving the Afghans up the hill with bullet, bayonet, and kukri, until at last the enemy's final defence was taken. It was in this battle that an incident occurred which shows, not only the Gurkha's quality, but his primitive methods of revenge—which methods, needless to say, are now somewhat modified. Towards the close of the uphill battle, when the enemy was in full retreat, a single Gurkha, in advance of his fellows, had just shot one of the Afghans, when two of them suddenly sprang up from behind a rock near by. They were Afghan hillmen—fanatics pledged in the name of Allah to the last drop of blood for Islam. They shared the belief, common among Orientals, that death under this pledge was the entrance to Paradise, where the houris are born of pure musk. With a spring one of them fiercely plunged his dagger into the unfortunate Gurkha, while the other with a sweep of his tulwar clove the head of the dying man. Swift as was this passage of arms, still swifter came the retribution. Lieut. Gordon of the 92nd Foot despatched one of the hillmen, and the other immediately fell, riddled by Gurkha bullets. With a ferocious cry the Gurkhas swept down upon the two stricken hillmen, and with their terrible kukris hewed them in pieces. But as the time of Samuel and Agag has departed, so has this primitive lust of revenge been gradually modified in the Gurkha by his association with the humanity of the West.

The Gurkhas were in the famous march of General Roberts on Kandahar, which immediately followed the battle of Sijazabad. It was towards the end of this march that the Gurkhas and the 92nd Gordon Highlanders made an attack on the little village of Gundi-Moolah-Sahibdad. In this memorable assault the Gurkhas and the Gordons almost strove with one another for the kudos of the victory. But the kudos may easily be said to belong to them jointly. And in recognition of this the Gordon loves to talk about his little comrade-in-arms, while the Gurkha worships the Gordon to such a degree that he would lay down his life for him.

The Afghan strife closed—let us hope for ever—with the battle of Kandahar. This conclusive fight stands in history as a signal tribute to the tenacity of the British soldier in general, and to the generalship, since tried and proved and never found wanting, of Lord Roberts. Says a historian, "It was remarkable for the generalship and cool judgment Roberts had shown, and also for the courage displayed by his troops.... On every occasion we were far outnumbered by the enemy, who were equal to our men in physical strength, and armed with nearly the same weapons; but Roberts trusted to the courage of his slender army and to its perfect discipline, which were conspicuous alike in the savage defiles of the Kurram Valley, on the rocky heights of the Peiwar Kotal and the Spingawi Pass, in the lines of Sherpur, and on the splintered bluffs of Asmai."

The Kandahar Field Force was disbanded in September, 1880, and Roberts' last act before returning to India was to distribute distinguished-service medals to the 72nd and 92nd Highlanders and the 5th Gurkhas. These are his words on that occasion, and no doubt every Gurkha at the front to-day has them, or their translation, in his memory, for they have, more than anything else, confirmed and ratified a brotherhood-in-arms between the Gurkhas and the Highlanders:—"Soldiers of the Kandahar Field Force, I am glad to have this opportunity of giving medals for distinguished conduct to the men of the 72nd and 92nd Highlanders and the 5th Gurkhas. They have deservedly won them. I say from my experience as a soldier that no men with whom I have served can have better deserved these rewards; and it is an additional pleasure to me to have seen the other day of what material my Highlanders and Gurkhas are made. I can but hope it may be my good fortune to have such good soldiers at my side when next I go into action.... You may be assured that the very last troops the Afghans ever wish to meet in the field are the Scottish Highlanders and the Gurkhas."

After this, from one who is now a veteran of England, who can doubt that, as the Gurkhas marched towards the front, their hearts went before them to their big brothers of former frays, with the hope that they would be in close touch in the battle line?