rved hurrying
with their standards to the attack. But these formidable signs, far from
deterring the cavalry soldier, only added, by displaying how great was
the need of Chakdara, to his determination to force his way through at
all costs.

Under a dropping fire from the cemetery on the right of the road, a
brief consultation was held. The Amandara defile was occupied on both
sides by the enemy. With the loss of perhaps a dozen men the squadron
might gallop through. But this meant leaving all who fell, to perish
miserably, by torture and mutilation. To attempt to pick up the wounded,
would lead to the annihilation of the squadron. Any alternative was
preferable, though if there were no other way, the dash would have to be
made, and the wounded left. A Sowar now said there was a path round the
rock by the bank of the river. Captain Wright determined to take it.

The path was bad. After about half the spur had been passed, it ended
abruptly in a steep white rock. It was, in fact, a path leading to a
point where the natives were in the habit of floating across the river
upon "mussucks" (inflated skins). To go back now was to fail. Without
hesitation, the horsemen turned to the right up the hill and among the
rocks, trusting to get through somehow. After passing over ground which
would be difficult to move across on foot, they saw a gorge to their
left which appeared as if it would lead to the open plain, on the other
side of the ridge. Down this gorge forty horses huddled together, with
no room to pick their way, were scrambling and jumping from rock to
rock, apparently as conscious as their riders that their lives depended
on their cleverness--when, suddenly, the enemy appeared.

As soon as the tribesmen, who were holding the pass, saw the squadron
trot off to their right towards the river, they realised that they
intended to make a desperate effort to get through to Chakdara. They
knew what the ground was like, and confident they would kill them all,
if they could get there soon enough, ran swiftly along the spur. It was
a race. The leading tribesmen arrived in time to fire on the cavalry,
while they were in the gorge. So close were they, that the officers
used their revolvers. But the Pathans were out of breath and shot badly.
Several horses were hit, including Captain Wright's, but though the
large thigh bone was penetrated, the gallant beast held on, and carried
his rider to Chakdara safely.

By the extraordinary