elter until the baggage came up. At length
it arrived, and we proceeded to camp as far as is possible without
tents. Shelters were improvised from blankets, from waterproof sheets
supported on sticks, or from the green boughs of some adjacent trees.
Beneath these scanty coverings the soldiers lay, and waited for the
evening.

Every one has read of the sufferings of the British troops in having to
campaign in the hot weather during the Indian Mutiny. September in these
valleys is as hot as it is easy to imagine or elegant to describe, and
the exposure to the sun tells severely on the British battalions, as
the hospital returns show. Of course, since Mutiny days, many salutary
changes have been made in the dress and equipment of the soldier. The
small cap with its insufficient puggaree is replaced by the pith helmet,
the shade of which is increased by a long quilted covering. The high
stock and thick, tight uniforms are gone, and a cool and comfortable
khaki kit has been substituted. A spine protector covers the back, and
in other ways rational improvements have been effected. But the sun
remains unchanged, and all precautions only minimise, without preventing
the evils.

Slowly the hours pass away. The heat is intense. The air glitters over
the scorched plain, as over the funnel of an engine. The wind blows with
a fierce warmth, and instead of bringing relief, raises only whirling
dust devils, which scatter the shelters and half-choke their occupants.
The water is tepid, and fails to quench the thirst. At last the shadows
begin to lengthen, as the sun sinks towards the western mountains.
Every one revives. Even the animals seem to share the general feeling of
relief. The camp turns out to see the sunset and enjoy the twilight. The
feelings of savage hatred against the orb of day fade from our minds,
and we strive to forget that he will be ready at five o'clock next
morning to begin the torment over again.

As there were still several days to spare before the Malakand Field
Force was due to enter the Mohmand country, Sir Bindon Blood ordered
both brigades to remain halted on the 13th: the 3rd Brigade at Shumshuk;
the 2nd at Jar. Meanwhile two reconnaissances were to be sent, one to
the summit of the Rambat Pass, and the other up the Watelai Valley.

The night of the 12th was the first occasion of "sniping," since the
advance against the Mohmands had begun. About half a dozen shots were
fired into camp, without other r