of the same Jewish type as the majority of the
Afghan nation, but he had a weak face and was evidently wanting in
character. He told me that he had fled from Kabul to escape the
vengeance of his nephew, Yakub Khan, who attributed his long
imprisonment by his father to the Sirdar's influence. Sir Samuel
Browne and Major Cavagnari, on the Khyber line, were conducting all
political negotiations with the Afghans, so I passed Wali Mahomed Khan
on to them.

During the month of February my time was chiefly employed in
inspecting the roads and the defensive posts which my talented
and indefatigable Chief Engineer was constructing, examining the
arrangements for housing the troops, and looking after the transport
animals and Commissariat depots. No more military demonstrations were
necessary, for the people were quietly settling down under British
rule. Convoys were no longer molested nor telegraph wires cut; but I
had one rather unpleasant incident with regard to a war Correspondent,
which, until the true facts of the case were understood, brought
me into disrepute with one of the leading London newspapers, the
representative of which I felt myself compelled to dismiss from the
Kuram Field Force.

Judging from his telegrams, which he brought to me to sign, the nerves
of the Correspondent in question must have been somewhat shaken by the
few and very distant shots fired at us on the 28th November. These
telegrams being in many instances absolutely incorrect and of the most
alarming nature, were of course not allowed to be despatched until
they had been revised in accordance with truth; but one, evidently
altered and added to after I had countersigned it, was brought to me
by the telegraph master. I sent for the Correspondent, who confessed
to having made the alterations, not apparently realizing that he had
done anything at all reprehensible, but he promised that he would
never do such a thing again. This promise was not kept; telegrams
appeared in his paper which I had not seen before despatch, and which
were most misleading to the British public. Moreover, his letters,
over which I could have no control, and which I heard of for the
first time when the copies of his paper arrived in Kuram, were most
subversive of the truth. It was on the receipt of these letters that I
felt it to be my duty to send the too imaginative author to the rear.

No one could be more anxious than I was to have all details of the
campaign made pub