and leads to
the fortified bridge across the river. I invite the reader to remark
this road, for it is historic. It is not only the route by which the
Malakand Field Force was able to advance, but it is the very reason of
their existence. Without this road there would have been no Malakand
Camps, no fighting, no Malakand Field Force, no story. It is the road to
Chitral.

Here then, at once, the whole vast question of frontier policy is
raised. We hold the Malakand Pass to keep the Chitral road open. We
keep the Chitral road open because we have retained Chitral. We retain
Chitral in accordance with the "Forward Policy." I am thus confronted at
the very outset of this book, which was intended to be devoted chiefly
to the narration of military events and small incidents, with that wide
political question, on which the keenest intellects in England are in
doubt, and the most valuable expert evidence in India is divided.
The reader must not think me pusillanimous or weak if I postpone the
discussion of so great and controversial a matter till a later chapter,
when I may perhaps enjoy a larger measure of his sympathy and agreement.
After the story has been told, it may not be inappropriate to point the
moral.

Prudence encourages procrastination. But while the consideration of the
advisability of the retention of Chitral may be deferred, a description
of the means is convenient, if not necessary, to the present chapter.

Nowshera is the railway base of the road. Thence we have followed it
to Mardan and across the frontier. Here the new and disputed portion
begins. Passing at first through the Lower Ranizai country, it climbs
the Malakand Pass, descends into the valley beyond and runs thence
through Upper Ranizai territory and Lower Swat to Chakdara. Here it
crosses the Swat River by the fine suspension bridge which the fort
guards. The three spans of this bridge are together nearly 1500 feet
long. It was constructed in 1895, during the operations, in about six
weeks, and is a very remarkable piece of military engineering. Beyond
the Swat the road runs through the territories of the Khan of Dir, north
and east to Sadu, an obscure village thirty-five miles from Malakand.
This marks the end of the first section, and further than this wheeled
traffic cannot go. The road, now become a camel track, winds along the
left bank of the Panjkora River to within five miles of Dir, where
it crosses to the right bank by another suspens