7.30 A.M., and I wanted to push on, so as to be well on
the right rear of the enemy by nine o'clock. Once there, we could time
our attack at our leisure. Events, however, worked out somewhat
differently. The ground now got very bad, and presently we came to a
stone shoot which extended high up above us, while ending in a cliff a
little below. This we crossed carefully, one man going at a time. Each
step set the whole slide in motion and brought stones bounding down from
above. The best way was to take it at a rush. We got safely across that,
and the ground got worse and worse, and finally we were brought to a
halt. I sent men to find a path above and below, the remainder sat down
under cover, while I examined the ground in front with my glasses. It
was eight o'clock now, and I was congratulating myself in having got so
far, as another half-mile would bring us on to a spur which ran down on
the right flank of the enemy's line.

As I was looking at this spur, I noticed that there was a nice grassy
slope just about level with us, and below that the cliffs went almost
sheer down into the river. Once on that slope, we could pretty well play
skittles with the sangars below, as we could even now see clearly into
them. Unfortunately, the ground between looked frightful, a series of
ridges like the teeth of a saw, the northern faces being covered with
snow, which made the going particularly treacherous. I had hardly
noticed this when there was a puff of smoke and a report, and I saw to
my disgust that on the edge of my nice grassy slope were a few clusters
of innocent-looking rocks, which I now saw to be sangars, evidently
occupied. Just at this moment a man ran across the slope and began
waving his coat to someone below, and more men showed themselves among
the rocks.

The Levies were still looking for a path, and Humayun wanted to return
the enemy's fire; but as the Levies were armed only with carbines, and I
hadn't heard the whistle of the enemy's shot, I judged it would be a
waste of ammunition. To get the distance, I told Gammer Sing, who had
his Martini, to try a shot at the man waving his choga, with his sights
at eight hundred yards. I saw the bullet kick the dust to the right of
the man, who jumped for a rock, so I knew carbines were no good at that
distance.

A path was now found a little lower down, so I ordered an advance and on
we went. Our appearance was the signal for the enemy to open fire, but
as only one or