true fighting value of a
regiment shows itself. Great as is the glory of those who, surrounded by
comrades, are borne on the tide of great events to victory, still
greener are the laurels that adorn the standards of those who, amidst
great tribulation and fighting against overwhelming odds, keep
untarnished their ancient fame.

Before the anxious eyes of an army, so near yet so powerless to help,
the Guides commenced their retirement. With the great mountains as an
amphitheatre the drama began to unfold itself before the gaze of waiting
thousands. At first so far away were they, so few, so scattered, and
clad to match the colour of the hills, that only the strongest glasses
could make out the position of the Guides; but apparent to the naked eye
of all was the great straggling mass which was falling with relentless
swiftness, guillotine-like, on the narrow neck of the communications
with the bridge. With cool intrepid courage, with a deliberation which
appeared almost exasperating to the onlookers, Colonel Battye and his
men took up the challenge. Little parties of soldiers could be descried
slowly sauntering back, a few yards only, then disappearing amongst the
rocks with a rattle of rifle-fire. Then back came more little parties of
soldiers, all seemingly sauntering, all with the long sunny day before
them. And after them bounded great waves of men in blue, and men in
white, only to break and stagger back before those little clumps of rock
in which the rearmost soldiers lay. "Get back, get back! Damn you, why
don't you get back?" shouted the spectators on the eastern bank in
impotent excitement. But no word of this reached the Guides on the
slopes of the still far-off mountain-side; nor would they have heeded
had they heard, for they had been born and bred to the two simple
maxims, "Be fiery quick in attack, but deadly slow in retirement." And
so slowly back they came, and in their wake lay strewn the white and
blue figures, all huddled up, or stark and flat.

The retirement now brought the regiment down the spur of a lofty hill
which forms the angle where the Jandul River flows into the Panjkora.
This hill is to the south of the Jandul, while the bridge-head was to
the north. Thus to reach their entrenchment the Guides had to retire
down the spur they were now on, and to cross the Jandul.

It was now noon, and at about this time the enemy's masses were seen to
divide in two; one-half keeping to the right, so as to