gras and the 35th Sikhs started at dawn. No.1 and No.7 British
Mountain Batteries were also ordered up. The Guides Cavalry had already
arrived. Their infantry under Lieutenant Lockhart reached the Kotal at
7.30 P.M. on the 27th, having, in spite of the intense heat and choking
dust, covered thirty-two miles in seventeen and a half hours. This
wonderful feat was accomplished without impairing the efficiency of the
soldiers, who were sent into the picket line, and became engaged as soon
as they arrived. An officer who commanded the Dargai post told me,
that, as they passed the guard there, they shouldered arms with parade
precision, as if to show that twenty-six miles under the hottest sun in
the world would not take the polish off the Corps of Guides. Then they
breasted the long ascent to the top of the pass, encouraged by the sound
of the firing, which grew louder at every step.

Help in plenty was thus approaching as fast as eager men could march,
but meanwhile the garrison had to face the danger as best they could
alone. As the 31st Punjaub Infantry, who had been the last to leave the
north camp, were arriving at the Kotal, about 1000 tribesmen descended
in broad daylight and with the greatest boldness, and threatened their
left flank. They drove in two pickets of the 24th, and pressed forward
vigorously. Lieutenant Climo with two companies advanced up the hill to
meet them, supported by the fire of two guns of the Mountain Battery. A
bayonet charge was completely successful. The officers were close enough
to make effective use of their revolvers. Nine bodies of the enemy were
left on the ground, and a standard was captured. The tribesmen then drew
off, and the garrison prepared for the attack, which they knew would
come with the dark.

As the evening drew on the enemy were observed assembling in
ever-increasing numbers. Great crowds of them could be seen streaming
along the Chakdara road, and thickly dotting the hills with spots of
white. They all wore white as yet. The news had not reached Buner, and
the sombre-clad warriors of Ambeyla were still absent. The glare of
the flames from the north camp was soon to summon them to the attack of
their ancient enemies. The spectacle as night fell was strange, ominous,
but not unpicturesque. Gay banners of every colour, shape and device,
waved from the surrounding hills. The sunset caught the flashing of
swordblades behind the spurs and ridges. The numerous figures of the
en