aching action. But events were
destined to a different course.

It was already dusk when we returned from the reconnaissance. The
evening was pleasant and we dined in the open air. Still the valley was
very dark. The mountains showed a velvet black. Presently the moon rose.
I repress the inclination to try to describe the beauty of the scene,
as the valley was swiftly flooded with that mysterious light. All
the suitable words have probably been employed many times by numerous
writers and skipped by countless readers. Indeed I am inclined to think,
that these elaborate descriptions convey little to those who have not
seen, and are unnecessary to those who have. Nature will not be admired
by proxy. In times of war, however, especially of frontier war, the
importance of the moon is brought home to everybody. "What time does it
rise to-night?" is the question that recurs; for other things--attacks,
"sniping," rushes,--besides the tides are influenced by its movements.

Meanwhile, as at Nawagai, at a peaceful camp and a quiet dinner we
watched the "silvery maiden" swiftly appear over the eastern mountains.
She was gazing on a different scene eleven miles away, in the valley we
had left.

The 2nd Brigade had marched that morning from Jar to the foot of
the Rambat Pass, which it was intended to cross the next day.
Brigadier-General Jefferys, in anticipation of this movement, sent the
Buffs up to hold the Kotal, and camped at the foot with the rest of his
force. The situation of the camp, which had been adopted with a view to
the advance at daybreak, favored the approach of an enemy. The ground
was broken and intersected by numerous small and tortuous nullahs, and
strewn with rocks. Any other site would, however, have necessitated a
long march the next day, and no attack was thought likely.

At 8.15, as the officers were finishing dinner, three shots rang out in
the silence. They were a signal. Instantly brisk firing broke out from
the nullahs on the face of the square occupied by the Guides Infantry.
Bullets whistled all about the camp, ripping through the tents and
killing and wounding the animals.

The Guides returned the fire with steadiness, and, as the shelter trench
they had dug in front of their section of the line was higher than at
other parts, no officers or men were hit. At ten o'clock a bugler among
the enemy sounded the "Retire," and the fire dwindled to a few dropping
shots. All were congratulating themselve