fforts to rescue his Chief.

Mackeson lingered until the 14th September. His death caused
considerable excitement in the city and along the border, increasing
to an alarming extent when it became known that the murderer had been
hanged and his body burnt. This mode of disposing of one of their dead
is considered by Mahomedans as the greatest insult that can be offered
to their religion, for in thus treating the corpse, as if it were that
of (by them) a hated and despised Hindu, the dead man is supposed to
be deprived of every chance of paradise. It was not without careful
and deliberate consideration that this course was decided upon, and it
was only adopted on account of the deterrent effect it would have upon
fanatical Mahomedans, who count it all gain to sacrifice their lives
by the murder of a heretic, and thereby secure, as they firmly
believe, eternal happiness, but loathe the idea of being burned, which
effectually prevents the murderer being raised to the dignity of a
martyr, and revered as a saint ever after.

It being rumoured that the Pathans intended to retaliate by
desecrating the late Commissioner's grave, it was arranged that he
should be buried within cantonment limits. A monument was raised to
his memory by public subscription, and his epitaph[6] was written by
the Governor-General himself.

Shortly before Mackeson's murder my father had found it necessary to
go to the hill-station of Murree; the hot weather had tried him very
much, and he required a change. He had scarcely arrived there, when
he was startled by the news of the tragedy which had occurred, and at
once determined to return, notwithstanding its being the most sickly
season of the year at Peshawar, for he felt that at a time of such
dangerous excitement it was his duty to be present. As a precautionary
measure, he ordered the 22nd Foot from Rawal Pindi to Peshawar. This
and other steps which he deemed prudent to take soon put an end to the
disturbances.

No sooner had matters quieted down at Peshawar than the Jowaki
Afridis, who inhabit the country immediately to the east of the Kohat
Pass, began to give trouble, and we went out into camp to select a
site for a post which would serve to cover the northern entrance to
the pass and keep the tribesmen under surveillance. The great change
of temperature, from the intense heat he had undergone in the summer
to the bitter cold of November nights in tents, was too severe a trial
for my father