other, but the night passed without incident or excitement.

[Illustration: Indian cavalry bringing in prisoners after the charge]

By four in the morning we were once more feeling our way along through the
darkness. As it lightened we came under observation by the Turks, who
started in to shell us. We learned from our aeroplanes that Kifri had been
evacuated; the garrison was falling back along a road running parallel to
the one on which we were, separated by eight or ten miles of broken
country. By this time our cavalry had caught up with us. They pushed off
across country to intercept the Turks. We attempted to do likewise but it
was more difficult, and what with dodging in and out to avoid a ravine
here or a hill there, we made little headway. At length we struck a road
that led in approximately the direction whither we wished to go. It was
already early afternoon before, upon topping a rise, we caught sight of a
good-sized body of Turks marching on a road which ran along the base of
a range of steep, stony hills. We put on as much speed as was possible,
and headed north to try to intercept them. The cavalry were coming from
the south, and while we were circling around they charged in upon the
Turks. It was a stirring scene. The powerful Indians sat their horses with
the utmost grace. Their drawn sabres flashed in the sun. As they came to
close quarters the turbaned heads bent forward and we could hear the
shouts and high-pitched cries of triumph as the riders slashed at the foe.
The wounded and dead testified to their skill as swordsmen. The whole
sight reminded me more of the battle books I read as a boy than anything I
saw in the war. About six hundred prisoners were taken, but many of the
Turks escaped to the mountains and lay among the rocks, whence they could
snipe at us with impunity. They were a tenacious lot, for all next day
when we were using the road below the hills they continued to shoot at us
from the places whence it was impossible to dislodge them.

While the prisoners were being brought in we caught sight of one of our
aeroplanes crashing. Making our way over to it we found that neither the
pilot nor the observer was seriously hurt. Flying in Mesopotamia was made
unusually difficult by the climatic conditions. The planes were designed
for work in France and during the summer months the heat and dryness
warped the propeller blades and indeed all the wooden parts. Then, too,
the fine dust would get