arison--a prevarication, a lie, and an official account.
We at least cannot exaggerate our success, for it would be impossible to
add anything to it.

We set out, then, as per programme, and came upon the camp near the head
of the valley. They had two weak companies of the 54th with them who
might no doubt have held their own with warning, but an unexpected rush
of wild Hillmen is a very difficult thing to stand against. With our
reinforcements, however, and on our guard, we might defy the rascals.

Chamberlain was in command--a fine young fellow. We soon made him
understand the situation, and were all ready for a start by daybreak
though his waggons were so full that we were compelled to leave several
tons of fodder behind in order to make room for my Sepoys and for the
artillery.

About five o'clock we inspanned, to use an Africanism, and by six we
were well on our way, with our escort as straggling and unconcerned as
possible--as helpless-looking a caravan as ever invited attack.

I could soon see that it was to be no false alarm this time, and that
the tribes really meant business.

From my post of observation, under the canvas screens of one of the
waggons, I could make out turbaned heads popping up to have a look at
us from among the rocks, and an occasional scout hurrying northward with
the news of our approach.

It was not, however, until we came abreast of the Terada Pass, a gloomy
defile bounded by gigantic cliffs, that the Afridis began to show in
force, though they had ambushed themselves so cleverly that, had we not
been keenly on the look-out for them, we might have walked right into
the trap. As it was, the convoy halted, upon which the Hillmen, seeing
that they were observed, opened a heavy but ill-directed fire upon us.

I had asked Chamberlain to throw out his men in skirmishing order, and
to give them directions to retreat slowly upon the waggons so as to draw
the Afridis on. The ruse succeeded to perfection.

As the redcoats steadily retired, keeping behind cover as much as
possible, the enemy followed them up with yells of exultation, springing
from rock to rock, waving their jezails in the air, and howling like a
pack of demons.

With their black, contorted, mocking faces, their fierce gestures, and
their fluttering garments, they would have made a study for any painter
who wished to portray Milton's conception of the army of the damned.

From every side they pressed in until, seeing, as