mselves. However, in many cases the villages were
completely deserted.

That afternoon a reconnoitring party of mounted infantry returned with
one man badly wounded, and the report that the village of Naini, seven
miles ahead, was strongly held by the enemy. This meant fighting on the
morrow.

On the morrow we marched early to Naini, and disposed ourselves for
battle. Below the road, and quite out of range from the village, were
some convenient fields of young barley, upon which we closed up all the
transport, and removed the loads. We were dreadfully punctilious at that
period of hostilities about commandeering fodder or damaging crops, and
as soon as the fight began I remember the late Major Bretherton--the
chief Supply and Transport officer--sending me with a delightfully
worded message to the commandants of transport units regarding the
extent to which their animals might graze. I was to tell them that,
though all damage to crops was to be rigidly avoided, yet if by any
chance a mule did so far forget himself as to nibble a blade or two of
young barley, the matter need not on the present occasion be taken too
seriously, as the only ground available for closing up the transport was
the ground on which that nice young barley was growing. So while 'all
day long the noise of battle rolled' a hundred feet above them and two
hundred yards away, the transport animals did themselves 'top-hole' on
the enemy's best young barley; a good thing too, for they got precious
little fodder when they reached camp that night.

I got a good view of the Naini fight, seeing most of it in company with
the General's Staff. A portion of the Gyantse garrison had come out to
assist, and peppered the village and lamasarai from a high hill above,
while our own column enveloped them from other directions. We made some
fine big holes in their walls, and many a bee's nest of laymen and
fighting monks was disturbed by a well-directed shell. Later on came the
turn of the infantry at what must have been unpleasantly close quarters.

The fighting in Tibet was of course, in one sense, quite a minor matter.
But, on the other hand, it was quite a distinctive kind of fighting,
and, as such, does not deserve to be ignored. My share in those fights
was mainly that of an interested spectator, and in this capacity I give
my opinion of it.

I should say that for any one who, like myself, never had to go within a
certain distance of the position, there coul