ted the evening before, as he only caught a few of them up fifteen
miles back, and had great difficulty in bringing them along with him. We
met him as we were returning to Ghizr at seven o'clock that evening.
Stewart had scarcely gone ten minutes before some fifty coolies were
found hiding in a village; they were soon driven out and made to lift
their loads. This gave us some six days' rations, and with it we moved
off, our great object being to get across the pass and open
communications with Mastuj. After that we could see about getting on to
Chitral. Our transport consisted of country ponies and coolies, and I
remained behind to see the last off and rearguard moving before I
started myself.

About two miles from Ghizr post there was a steep ascent where the road
twisted and curled among a mass of debris fallen from the cliffs above,
and in one place the ponies had to be helped through a narrow passage
between two fallen boulders. About midday I caught up the tail of the
troops, who were already past the village of Teru, the highest inhabited
spot in the valley; there are only a few houses, and these are scattered
about in clumps a few hundred yards apart. Passing on, I caught up the
battery, and reached the leading infantry, when suddenly the word to
halt was passed down the long line.

We were now on a narrow plain, and the snow on either hand of the track
which the troops were following in single file was over my waist, as I
soon found whenever I left the path in order to reach more quickly the
head of the column. On arriving there, I found the track had suddenly
ended, and before us was the level expanse of snow-covered valley.
Attempts were being made to get the gun mules of the battery through
this, but at every step they sank up to their girths, even then not
finding firm foothold. Trials were then made of the ground at the sides
of the valley, but the snow was found equally deep and soft there; and
after spending an hour or so in futile attempts to get forward, it
became evident to all that no animal could possibly pass over the
snowfield in its present condition. We had only gone some eight miles
out of the thirteen to Langar, and it was already three o'clock. There
was nothing, therefore, for it but to return, and the word to retire was
reluctantly passed along the line, and each man, turning where he stood,
moved slowly back towards Ghizr.

But though laden or unladen animals could not cross the pass, we