with courses of timber. All along the top was a row
of loopholes. At each corner a tall flanking tower enfiladed the
approaches. At the gate of this warlike residence some twenty or thirty
tribesmen were gathered, headed by the khan's own cousin, an elderly man
dressed in long white robes. All saluted us gravely. The escort closed
up. A troop trotted off to the right out of the line fire of the fort.
The advance scouts, passing round the walls, formed on the farther
side. These matters of detail complied with, conversation began. It was
conducted in Pushtu, and was naturally unintelligible to every one of
our party except the two political officers. Apparently Major Deane
reproached the two chiefs for their conduct. He accused them of having
seized the bridge across the Panjkora and delivered the passage to
the fanatic crowds that had gathered to attack the Malakand. This they
admitted readily enough. "Well, why not?" said they; "there was a good
fair fight." Now they would make peace. They bore no malice, why should
the Sirkar?

It was not, however, possible to accept this sportsmanlike view of the
situation. They were asked where were the rifles they had been ordered
to surrender. At this they looked blank. There were no rifles. There
never had been any rifles. Let the soldiers search the fort and see
for themselves. The order was given; three or four sowars drew their
carbines, dismounted and entered the great and heavy gate, which had
been suspiciously opened a little way.

The gate gave access to a small courtyard, commanded on every side by an
interior defence. In front was a large low room of uncertain dimensions:
a kind of guard-house. It simply hummed with men. The outer walls were
nearly five feet thick and would have resisted the fire of mountain
guns. It was a strong place.

The Lancers, accustomed to the operation of hunting for arms, hurriedly
searched the likely and usual places, but without success. One thing,
however, they noticed, which they immediately reported. There were no
women and children in the fort. This had a sinister aspect. Our visit
was unexpected and had taken them by surprise, but they were prepared
for all emergencies. They had hidden their rifles and cleared for
action.

The two chiefs smiled in superior virtue. Of course there were no
rifles. But matters took, for them, an unexpected turn. They had no
rifles--said Major Deane--very well, they should come themselves.
He turned to