nce and bearing. I only saw him once,
in his last interview with Colonel Younghusband, but I cannot dissociate
from him a personal courage and a pride that must have rankled at the
indignity of his position. Probably he knew that his shot was suicidal.

The action has been described as one of extreme folly. But what was left
him if he lived except shame and humiliation? And what Englishman with
the same prospect to face, caught in this dark eddy of circumstance,
would not have done the same thing? He could only fire, and let his men
take their chance, God help them!

And the rabble? They have been called treacherous. Why, I don't know.
They were mostly impressed peasants. They did not wish to give up their
arms. Why should they? They knew nothing of the awful odds against them.
They were being hustled by white men who did not draw knives or fire
guns. Amid that babel of 1,500 men, many of them may not have heard the
command; they may not have believed that their lives would have been
spared.

Looking back on the affair with all the sanity of experience, nothing is
more natural than what happened. It was folly and suicide, no doubt; but
it was human nature. They were not going to give in without having a
fling. I hope I shall not be considered a pro-Tibetan when I say that I
admire their gallantry and dash.

As my wounds were being dressed I peered over the mound at the rout.
They were walking away! Why, in the name of all their Bodhisats and
Munis, did they not run? There was cover behind a bend in the hill a few
hundred yards distant, and they were exposed to a devastating hail of
bullets from the Maxims and rifles, that seemed to mow down every third
or fourth man. Yet they walked!

It was the most extraordinary procession I have ever seen. My friends
have tried to explain the phenomenon as due to obstinacy or ignorance,
or Spartan contempt for life. But I think I have the solution. They
were bewildered. The impossible had happened.

Prayers, and charms, and mantras, and the holiest of their holy men, had
failed them. I believe they were obsessed with that one thought. They
walked with bowed heads, as if they had been disillusioned in their
gods.

After the last of the retiring Tibetans had disappeared round the corner
of the Guru road, the 8th Gurkhas descended from the low range of hills
on the right of the position, and crossed the Guru Plain in extended
order with the 2nd Mounted Infantry on their extreme