Raiders of the Sarhad

I instructed Idu to ward off the evil day as long as possible, but told him that, in the last extremity, our food supplies would, of course, be fairly and evenly shared with the Sarhadis.

At this stage in the march we reached a height of some seven thousand feet, and I was struck with the beauty of the scene. Around us the slopes were covered with a profusion of flowers of every hue, forming, so it seemed, a vast, variegated carpet. Although I know nothing whatever of flowers from a botanical point of view the beauty of many of them struck me so much that, later in the year, I collected some of the seeds and preserved them carefully with the idea of home cultivation. These seeds remained with me in all my wanderings, but, unfortunately, on my journey home the pocket-book containing them was lost.

One plant in particular, the asefœtida (locally known as hing), is very striking, and most effective in the distance. The lower leaves are very big, and the plant throws up a tall, yellow shoot, two or three feet high, topped by a cluster of the most brilliant flowers of the same colour. This plant is much valued by the Baluchis, and I am told that large quantities are exported from this district to India.

We were lucky in finding cool camping places on the third and fourth nights of the march. On the fifth we commenced our last march on the plain to Galugan, the territory belonging to the Ismailzais under their leader, Juma Khan.

Galugan is like Kamalabad, a district only populated during certain seasons of the year, when the Ismailzais make a regular encampment there, live in jugis, and settle down for a time to the cultivation of their crops. The place is well watered, with a very fertile soil capable of bearing magnificent crops of wheat and barley.

As we approached the camping ground of Galugan our scouts came back to inform us that Juma Khan had deserted Galugan, and had gone, with all his tribe, into the high hills surrounding the place. He had heard of the defeat of Jiand at Koh-i-taftan, of his subsequent surrender, and of the capture of Khwash. He had also seen our forces approaching, and had no hope of success if he had remained to offer battle.

As a matter of fact we really did present quite an imposing appearance by this time. Our numbers had been augmented by small groups of Jiand's and Halil Khan's men who had joined us at intervals all along the route.

We accordingly marched, without any opposition, into Galugan, and found it, as reported, absolutely deserted, with the exception of one old woman who had utterly refused to desert her crops, and was eventually discovered hiding in a field.

As the threat of destruction to his crops had been so successful with Jiand we determined to try the same threat on Juma Khan. Accordingly, messengers were sent summoning him to surrender at once, with all his force, under a similar penalty. I told the messengers to impress upon him the fact that he and his tribe were now quite isolated, that the Gamshadzais and Yarmahommedzais had surrendered, but that they, and their leaders, had been well and generously treated, their lives and crops spared, and that the same generous treatment would be accorded to him if he delivered himself up without delay.

Very shortly he sent back a message to say that he realised he was in a hopeless position, and was quite prepared to surrender unconditionally. He also offered to restore all the plunder he had taken in the direction of Nasaratabad-sippi. But he asked for a definite guarantee that his life would be spared.

I sent back word that he need have no fear on that score. My mission was to make him see the error of his ways and to re-establish good relations between his tribe and the British; also, that he would be treated exactly as I had treated Jiand and Halil Khan.

That same evening he came into camp, with some thirty of his followers as a body-guard, and formally surrendered.

He was a somewhat different type from both Jiand and Halil Khan. Juma Khan was of medium height, and slightly built. He had a very pleasing, well-cut, high-bred face, always full of smiles and laughter, as though life were one huge joke.

Idu, who, as I have already said, knew all about the Sarhadi Chiefs and their characteristic points, said to me after I had interviewed Juma Khan, "If Juma Khan gives you his oath on the Koran he will keep it. He is well known throughout the Sarhad as a man who abides by his word. Any promise, therefore, that he makes to you he will faithfully keep."

I was especially glad that Juma Khan had come into line, and for a very good reason. The easiest route for German emissaries into Afghanistan lay through his territory. On all routes across Persia water-supply is one of the most vital considerations, the consequence being that many an otherwise convenient road had had to be abandoned owing to lack of water. Now the stream which runs from Galugan, piercing the hills and running into the Persian district of Narmashir, offers an excellent supply, so making this route an easy one for German agents – if not opposed by Juma Khan. But with Juma Khan on our side it would be practically impossible for such to get through the Sarhad. It was, therefore, my policy to treat him with special consideration. To be plain, I wished him, though an unwilling captive, to be a real convert to our interests.

All the Sarhadi Chiefs were now prisoners, but the problem arose as to the best and safest method of transporting them, and all their followers, back to Kacha, fully eighty miles distant. Our own food supplies were already running very short, yet I was obliged to promise the Raiders a fair and equal share of these. We were, therefore, immediately obliged to go on half rations.

To add to our troubles the weather was beginning to get very hot on these plains, and I well knew that, at any rate on some days – owing to water difficulties – it would be necessary to make long marches.

The first march out of Galugan proved to be heavy uphill work, our route lying up a steady, steep incline. But at night we found a suitable camping ground by the side of a stream. Here again the ground was covered by a mass of beautiful flowers. The following day we descended to the Duzd-ab plain, and had only crossed some five miles of it when a hill of such extraordinary appearance came into view that Landon and I simultaneously exclaimed. This looked for all the world like a huge mushroom with flattened dome and very thick stem – obviously a hill whose upper part was of a harder formation than the lower, thus resisting with better success the attacks of time and weather.

Idu cantered up on his pony and pointed to the hill with pride. "That, Sahib," he said, "is called the Takht-i-Jinikan" (throne of the dancing maidens).

"Why was it given that name?" I asked. "Do maidens live there alone?"

Idu grinned. "Listen, Sahib, and I will tell you the story of the Takht-i-Jinikan. On beautiful moonlight nights immortal maidens are supposed to dance on the flat top of this hill. If a young man is really very good he may climb to the top of the hill alone, while they are dancing, in the hope of obtaining a bride. But he must be very good to be sufficiently worthy to win the love of one of these immortal maidens. If he succeeds she becomes mortal, and they are married."

I asked Idu if he had met anyone who had obtained an immortal bride.

Idu smiled. "I fear there is no young man in the Sarhad good enough to be worthy of the honour!"

I persuaded Landon, who was unmarried, to climb the hill with me – but not by moonlight! On our return Idu asked Major Landon if he had seen the Jinikan.

Landon replied regretfully that he had not, but was sure it was because he had not been able to ascend the hill by moonlight – certainly not because he was not good enough. He, however, had seen some very large footprints, which he sincerely trusted, for the sake of the beauty of the legend, did not belong to these immortal damsels!

But what pleased me more than the romantic hill was the discovery of a stream only a short distance away. This afforded not only an unexpectedly good supply of water, but, from a quantity of dry bushes along its banks, an abundance of fire wood for cooking.

On each day of the march we held counsel with the Sarhadis and soon became on friendly terms with them. We found them a very interesting crowd, full of adventure and the joy of life. They informed me that, as they had now thrown in their lot with me, they were quite ready to take part in any raid with me, if only I would organise one. Nor did the objective matter. Persia, Afghanistan, or, in fact, anywhere where there might be excitement and adventurous doings. So friendly, indeed, were we all that I began to think my work, and the whole object for which I had been sent to the Sarhad, accomplished.

But Idu was never optimistic on the subject. He invariably shook his head, and warned me, in and out of season, against Halil Khan and Jiand. He, at last, so infected me with his own anxiety, that I began to wonder whether the two Chiefs might not take it into their heads to wipe out our little force one night. They could have done this with the utmost ease. This change of mind induced me at last to make my camp dispositions with redoubled care. The Raiders were given to understand that they must take part in organising the camp against some unknown foe who might make them, as well as myself, an object of attack.

My suspicions were further aroused by the minute way in which they questioned me as to the individuality of that foe, and the direction from which it would be possible for him to come. I told them that habit in soldiers becomes second nature; that it was a soldier's habit to take the utmost precaution in self-defence, and that neglected precaution might always bring possible disaster. But I could see that they accepted the explanation with doubt, and obviously disbelieved in my mythical foe.

The third day's march across the Duzd-ab valley was a very trying one. We had to make a double march, for our food supplies were almost exhausted, and it was obviously imperative to reach Kacha as soon as possible. It must be remembered, too, that we had been on half rations since leaving Galugan, and already there had been much grousing amongst the whole force.

That night we encamped at the base of a hill which Jiand proudly announced as "Koh-i-Jiandsiah," or the "Hill of Black Jiand." I asked him who Black Jiand might be, and he replied that his father's name was Jiand, though he was not black, and that the hill had been named after him. The old fellow was obviously proud of the honour which had been conferred on his father.

Here Landon and I spent an anxious night, for both Idu and the Sarhad-dar were very nervous and depressed. The latter said that a rumour had got about amongst the Sarhadis that all my promises and protestations to them were false, and that I was really leading them into a trap at Kacha, where they were all to be killed. Consequently, the idea had been discussed as to whether it might not be safer, and wiser, to attack our small force, overwhelm us during the night, and escape before daybreak.

As may be imagined, the prospect was scarcely a pleasant one, but we could take no stricter precautions than had already been done, and our sole remaining action now was to show an absolutely untroubled and confident front to men who, though nominally our prisoners, held us in the hollow of their hands. In other words to "trust to luck."

Fortunately for us the Raiders, who still could not make head or tail of the real situation, determined on a pacific course, and the night passed without incident. So luck stood with us, and on the following morning we were early astir for the last march south of Kacha.

It was evident that the situation had now become one of the "touch and go" order, so I determined to emphasise my supposed confidence in the Raiders, by this means restoring theirs, and convincing them that there was no trap. I, therefore, gave orders that none of them were to march in advance, but in the rear, as I wished to have a clear view of my covering troops.

As we drew in towards Kacha I noticed that Halil Khan and his band gathered as close in behind me as possible, and I learned afterwards that he had said, "If we are to be led into a trap I will see to it that the General Sahib does not escape me."

I had already given orders that, the instant we entered Kacha, the advance guard of infantry, also the cavalry and guns, were to march straight off to their respective barracks. This order I learned afterwards greatly relieved the anxiety of the Sarhadis, who had actually talked themselves into an honest belief of the existence of a trap. They themselves encamped in the vicinity of the British Political Officer's house. He himself was absent at that date. Ample food supplies were dealt out to them. Now that our lines of communication were clear of the Raiders food was coming through again from India.

For the moment all need for anxiety seemed at an end.

On the 1st of May I summoned a Durbar, to be held, on the following day, close to the Political Officer's house. Idu was not present, for he had asked for leave to go to Robat on important personal business. I suspected this important business was a visit to one of his numerous wives, though the rascal always disclaimed the suggestion that his absences ever had anything to do with a woman.

The Durbar was an impressive affair. Several bags of money were brought from the Government Treasury by the Sarhad-dar and placed at my feet. These were to be given to the Chiefs as rewards for future good conduct. After delivering an address – more or less a repetition of what I had said at Khwash as to the folly of deserting the British for the Germans – I called on the Chiefs to sign an agreement whereby they handed their country over to the Sirkar, and promised in future to be loyal to the Indian Government. Further than this, and under this agreement, they were to give timely warning of the approach of German agents from any direction.

As most of the Raiders could not write, their thumb-marks were duly impressed on an imposing looking document produced by the Sarhad-dar, and the Chiefs swore on the Koran to abide by the agreement. They were then handed the money rewards promised them, Jiand receiving the largest amount – two thousand rupees.

I then announced to them that they were all free to return to their homes, and that if ever any of them needed a friend, or would like me to adjudicate between them on any local quarrel, they were at liberty to call upon me for the purpose.

They professed themselves as very grateful for all that had been given them; admitted they had been treated generously, and promised, on oath, that there should be no more trouble in the Sarhad, nor should any German or German agent be permitted to pass through their territories.

Thus, when they left for their homes, on the morning of May 3rd, all parties were, apparently, on excellent terms.

I wrote a despatch to headquarters at Simla, giving a short account of the expedition and its results, at the same time bringing forward the names of various officers, and other ranks, for good work done. I also mentioned the fact that I did not know what to do in regard to the traffic in slaves.

That evening Idu returned. He came straight to my room and told me I had acted unwisely in disregarding his repeated warnings as to the unreliability of Jiand and Halil Khan. He further added that some of his own chosen men, who had been scouting around and picking up all possible information, had met him, on his return to Kacha, and had given him the following authentic and disquieting news. It was to the effect that, hardly had Jiand got out of Kacha, that morning, with promises of devotion and loyalty still hot upon his lips, than he had halted and called a meeting of the Raider Chiefs, urging them to repudiate their oaths, to collect all their fighting men as quickly as possible, attack and take Khwash, and then to turn their attention to my force, which he now openly said he knew to be a contemptibly small one.

This was bad news indeed. We naturally knew that Khwash could be captured in a few minutes. There were only five men there. We were also quite conscious of the fact that we could be wiped out in less than the same time if attacked in any force.

But the bad was leavened by the good, for the same report told us that Juma Khan had resolutely and absolutely refused to fall in with Jiand's plans. He was also reported to have said that the General Sahib had kept every promise made to them, had spared their lives and crops when he could have destroyed them, had treated them, from the commencement of hostilities, as honourable foes, and later as friends, and had finally given them considerable sums of money. He had never broken his word, and he did not intend to begin doing so now. Therefore, he was to be counted out of any plans of treachery which Jiand might be meditating. Upon which expression of opinion he had ridden off to his own country with his following.

But, even with Juma Khan eliminated, the situation was serious enough, for I saw no chance of obtaining reinforcements from any quarter in time to prevent a disaster. However, it was no use crying over spilt milk. Things must be faced as they were.

After all, as I pointed out to Idu, Jiand could not do the impossible. He and Halil Khan could not collect their scattered men in a moment. The one thing left for us to do was to set off on the morrow, march back to Khwash, endeavour to reach it before Jiand, and organise our defence against his coming.

I have often since been blamed for an apparent foolhardiness in trusting the Raiders sufficiently to let them go. But it must be remembered that I had not come out to fight the Raiders – unless events made it absolutely necessary to do so – but, rather, to make friends with them and to keep the Germans, or their agents, from coming through their country. Moreover, the force at my disposal was very small indeed, and quite insufficient to keep these Raiders in check when once the bluff was called. In other words, I should soon lose the game if I persisted in treating them as enemies.

It must be understood, too, that the Sarhad was only the Southern portion of my command, and that rumours were constantly coming in that Germans, who had failed to get through into Afghanistan via the South, were not only moving North towards Birjand, but were trying to cross the border in that direction.

I knew, also, that it would soon be necessary to move North in order to induce the Russians to keep a more careful guard than they had been doing in the district North of Birjand, a district within their sphere of influence in Persia.

Nor must it be supposed that I had not quite realised, before I let the Raiders go, that I had not obtained all the safeguards I could have wished. But I did not then, nor do I now, see that I had any other alternative.

In any case I had gained one very definite advantage. I had won over Juma Khan to our side; and it was through his territory that the Germans would first have to pass in order to get through the Sarhad.

But, though Juma Khan had already given a practical example of his determination to be loyal to his oath, I recognised that he would be bolstered up in his loyalty if he felt there was apparent some show of strength on our side. The loss of Khwash to Jiand would, therefore, be a terrible confession of weakness.

Landon and the Sarhad-dar fully concurred with me that the one and only wise plan to follow would be to march at daybreak with all the forces we could command, and endeavour, by a series of forced marches, to reach and enter Khwash before Jiand could take it.