rn from Delhi. Within two months they were again
taking the field, under Sir Sidney Cotton, against the Hindustani
fanatics of Sittana.

These fanatics, as they were called, were really refugees from British
territory, for the most part deserters from corps that had mutinied, or
outlaws who had participated in some unforgivable outrage; some,
however, were clean-handed patriots, who, on principle, refused to bow
to the decree of destiny, or to become peaceful subjects of the Queen.
If the latter had remained quiet and inoffensive members of tribes or
communities beyond our borders, the British Government, never
vindictive, would probably, as the heat and passions of a desperate war
died down, have left them to their solitude. But instead of thus living
peaceably in the asylum they had found, they set about inciting their
hot-blooded neighbours to join them in disturbing the peace of the
border. They harried villages, drove off cattle, killed and wounded
British subjects, and thus became an additional disturbing feature on a
frontier always ready enough for the pleasure of a good fight. The
opportunity was therefore taken of the presence of Sir Sidney Cotton's
column to make them feel that the strong hand of the British Government
could reach them even in their mountain fastnesses.

With the co-operation of a force from the Hazara district Sittana, the
stronghold of the Hindustanis, was skilfully surrounded, and a fierce
hand-to-hand conflict ensued. Their Pathan allies, whose hearts were
evidently not in the business, showed but lukewarm enthusiasm, and
escaped as best they could; but the Hindustanis stood to a man. They
fought like fanatics, coming boldly and doggedly on, and going through
all the preliminary attitudes and posturing of the Indian prize-ring.
Their advance was made steadily and in perfect silence, without a shout
or a word of any kind, unlike the yelling charge of the Afghan _ghazi_.
All were dressed in their bravest and best for the occasion, as is meet
for him who goes to meet his Lord, most of them in pure white, but some
of the leaders in richly embroidered velvet coats. The fight was short,
desperate, and decisive; and in the end every one of these brave, if
misguided, warriors was killed or captured. The brunt of the charge fell
on the 18th Punjab Infantry, who lost one officer and sixteen men in the
encounter.

Many another fight too did the Guides have during the next few years
with unvarying