e worthy sahib than the last, was received with even more respect;
but as to allowing the horses to water, the sentry was adamant on that
point. "I obey my Colonel's orders," said he, "and no one else's." Lord
William, though greatly vexed, as perhaps was only natural, was too good
a soldier to force a sentry, and rode off therefore to the Guides' camp
to lay the matter before the commanding officer. The rest was naturally
all cordiality and good feeling, and an invitation to lunch; while the
Guides' subaltern galloped off and cut the Gordian knot.

Scarcely had Lumsden parted from his beloved corps, when they again
took the field, in the small but bloody Umbeyla campaign of 1863. The
opening incident was in what was coming to be honourably looked upon as
thoroughly Guides' fashion. Two troops of the cavalry and two companies
of the infantry of this corps, under Jenkins,[13] were encamped at Topi,
blockading the Gaduns and Hindustani fanatics preparatory to the advance
of the field-force. One night a patrol of three men, under Duffadar
Fakira, suddenly encountered a body of about three hundred of the enemy,
on their way to surprise and capture the camp of the Guides. Without a
moment's hesitation, and with highly commendable presence of mind, the
duffadar began shouting "Fall in! fall in!" as if addressing countless
legions; and then wheeling his three men into line, and each man yelling
like a dozen fiends, fell with fury on the advancing enemy. The effect
was magical, the enemy thinking that they had been betrayed, or
forestalled, or had perchance fallen into an ambush, and that opposed to
them was the whole strength of the Guides. In the darkness a panic set
in, and the whole force broke and fled, their redoubted and sainted
leader, the Mullah Abdullah, showing the way.

[13] Afterwards Colonel Sir Francis Jenkins, K.C.B.

In the fierce and frequent fighting which week after week, raged round
the celebrated Crag picquet, the Guides took their part. This picquet
stood at the top of an abrupt and precipitous rock, accessible from our
side only by a narrow rocky path, while towards the enemy the ground
sloped away to further hills. The weakness of the picquet, therefore,
lay not only in its openness to determined attack, in days of
short-range weapons and hand-to-hand fighting, but also in the
difficulty experienced in quickly reinforcing it. Once taken, not only
the neighbouring post, known as the Monastery picquet,