chance again on our old
and gallant friend Fatteh Khan, Khuttuk; and once again we find him a
man not easily taken aback in a sudden emergency. It was towards the end
of 1851 that the British Government, having undertaken the surveying and
mapping out of the Peshawur Valley and Yusafzai, deputed Mr. James, of
the Survey Department, to superintend a portion of the work. For his
protection during this duty, amongst a people fanatically opposed to
anything in the shape of a map or a survey, a party of thirty of the
Guides' cavalry was detailed under Ressaldar Fatteh Khan. This
detachment was ordered to meet Mr. James at a small village named Gujar
Garhi, about two miles from Mardan. Here, therefore, Fatteh Khan
encamped to await the Sahib's arrival; but the day passed, the night
fell, and still there were no signs of him. Thinking that there must
have been some mistake in the dates, all turned in, and the camp was
soon wrapped in slumber, the silence disturbed only by the stamping and
roaring of the stallions at their standings, and by the crisp alert call
of the sentries as they challenged.

It was past midnight, when a sharp-eyed Pathan sentry espied mistily
through the darkness what looked like a large body of mounted men
approaching. Instantly a sharp peremptory challenge rang out: "Halt! Who
goes there?" Equally promptly floated back the answering watchword,
"Friend." "What friend?" the sentry shouted, suspicious still. "Sahib,"
came back the disarming reply. Whereupon the sentry, coming to the not
unnatural conclusion that the long-expected Sahib had at last arrived,
and that he saw before him Mr. James with a large escort, sloped his
sword, and gave the usual right of way: "Pass friend,--all's well."

At this moment Fatteh Khan awoke, and hearing the word _sahib_, jumped
up, ran out of his tent, and hastened down to the end of the camp to
meet the Sahib. He had, however, no sooner arrived there, than he at
once noticed that the advancing horsemen were armed with matchlocks. Now
our own cavalry in those days carried swords and lances, but not
firearms, therefore these midnight visitors could not belong to any
regiments in our service. To a man like Fatteh Khan, born to wars and
alarms, who takes little for granted in daylight and nothing at night,
this was sufficient to place him on his guard. With instant presence of
mind he shouted, in a voice to be heard throughout the camp: "Rouse up
everyone! Draw swords! The e