After the news that Delhi had fallen to the mutineers came an alarming
report of a fresh outbreak at Nowshera, only a few miles away. In the
face of this development, the two friends came to the conclusion that
the sepoys at Peshawur must be disarmed. They carried their arguments
at once to Sydney Cotton, and convinced the Brigadier of the necessity
for such drastic action. This decision was arrived at in the small
hours of the 22nd of May. By six o'clock the same morning the colonels
of the sepoy regiments had received their orders, and by seven the work
of disarmament had begun.

"These prompt and decided measures," notes Edwardes, "took the native
troops completely aback. Not an hour had been given them to consult,
and, isolated from each other, no regiment was willing to commit
itself; the whole laid down their arms." The same writer records how,
as the muskets and sabres of "once-honoured corps" were thrown
unceremoniously into carts, there were to be seen here and there the
spurs and swords of British officers who had vouched for the loyalty of
their men, and who still refused to believe them traitorous. Very soon
after were these simple gentlemen to have their faith rudely shattered.

It was a dramatic scene, but to Nicholson, if to none other, it was not
painful. Too well did he know how the seeds of rebellion had been sown
in these same regiments.

The next day Nicholson was called upon for immediate active service.
The 55th Sepoys at Mardan had mutinied and taken to the hills. At the
head of a strong body of cavalry and infantry he hurled himself on the
track of the rebels, and then began a fierce pursuit that gave the
fleeing sepoys no respite. Up hill and down dale they were hunted,
until at last nearly three hundred had been killed or taken prisoners,
together with a large quantity of arms. The rest, it may be mentioned,
fell into the unfriendly hands of the hill tribes across the border,
and suffered either death or slavery. Not a man is known to have
escaped.

In this dashing piece of work Nicholson was ever foremost, bringing
many a mutineer to the dust with his own great sword. For twenty hours
he was in the saddle under a scorching sun, and "could not have
traversed less than seventy miles." He had given a practical lesson in
the art of punishing rebellion, and had demonstrated the value of a
mobile field force. He was now within a short time to further display
his abilities as th