As we approached the fort, still in doubt as to whether Jiand occupied it or not, Allan turned round on his camel and asked, "Which way shall we run, sir, if we have to run?"

I laughed, though I could not help approving his foresight. "There's no more running, Allan. If Jiand is not in Khwash, all will be well. If he is—well, you can take it from me, the game's up. There'll be no running for any of us."

We were now near enough to see a man standing on the top of one of the towers. Was he one of the men I had left, or a Yarmahommedzai? A few minutes later we could distinguish his uniform.

We were in time! We should be first into Khwash after all!

In my joy I took off my helmet and waved it to show the man I was not one of the enemy, for he might easily have mistaken us, seeing that we were all mounted on camels. He paused a moment, then, recognising the signal, tore down from the tower, quitted the walls and rushed out to meet us, nearly beside himself with excitement and relief.

"You are only just in time, Sahib," he said. "Shah Sawar has already arrived with a large force and is encamped close by. We have been expecting him to attack all the morning. Come quickly into the fort, or, even now, you may be too late."

We needed no second bidding, but, urging the camels forward, pressed on, and were soon all safely contained within strong mud walls.

Without a moment's delay the place was organised for defence. This was done as well as it was possible to do, pending the arrival of Landon with his force.

The five infantrymen till now constituting the garrison were put in the highest tourelle, where I also took up my quarters. From this vantage-point I not only had the best view of the whole plain but could command every inch of the fort's interior. Idu's men manned the three remaining tourelles, whilst Izzat's band were placed, all together, in the centre of the Square, where a watchful eye could be kept on them. Izzat himself I kept close by my side, for Idu, who knew him too well to trust him a yard, advised me to keep a close personal watch on him.

The place was now as secure as our limited numbers could make it, and no more could be done but await developments.

Idu, who had never left my side, now asked permission to leave the fort for the purpose of questioning the Khwashis outside the walls. He also asked for some money with which to bribe them.

"A very little will open their mouths, Sahib," he said persuasively. "And they will surely know all about the movements of Shah Sawar and of Jiand."

As no enemy had yet appeared in sight I gave him leave to go, and all the money I had in my pocket.

On his return he informed me that he had learned exactly where Shah Sawar and his men were encamped, and proposed that he should go out and confer with him.

At first I refused point-blank. Idu could not go on bearing a charmed life, and Shah Sawar was a treacherous scoundrel. I pointed out that even if Shah Sawar did not kill him he might take and keep him prisoner, and I could not possibly do without him. His loss would be irreparable.

Idu was obviously pleased and flattered at my appreciation of him, but persisted that his was the wiser plan.

"You have seen, again and again, Sahib, that what I have told you is always true. No Sarhadi will break his oath of safe conduct to an enemy."

"I know," I replied. "But you have not got that promise from Shah Sawar, and without it I will not let you go."

Idu, who had the utmost faith in his own powers of persuasion, was not to be done. He argued that it would be easy enough to bribe one of the Khwashis, encamped outside, to go over to Shah Sawar and get the necessary safe conduct.

At last, and with great reluctance, I consented, provided Shah Sawar sent every assurance and guarantee that there would be no treachery if Idu went as an emissary.

In due course these assurances arrived. I had, therefore, to keep my word to Idu, and give my consent, though, even then, I did not trust Shah Sawar. However, once again Idu's confidence in that one, all-sacred law of hospitality was justified.

From my tower I watched him start, but he was very quickly lost to view amongst the sand dunes and fields with their tall-grown crops which lay between the fort and Shah Sawar's camp, some three miles distant.

He was away something like three hours, and I was beginning to get desperately anxious, when, to my great relief, I saw him ambling back on his Mari.

He was highly pleased with the success of his mission, and gave me a full and detailed account of his meeting with Shah Sawar. As usual he had taken a high tone, and, on arriving at the camp, had immediately and scornfully approached the Chief.

"So I see you are about to make a fool of yourself again. But what do you think you are going to do? The General Sahib is in Khwash waiting for you!"

At first Shah Sawar refused to believe this, saying that it was impossible to have got there from Kacha in the time. It was evident that the Khwashi sent as a messenger had faithfully kept the oath Idu had exacted from him, i.e., that he would give Shah Sawar no indication whatever of my presence, or any reason for Idu's request for a safe conduct to his camp.

But when Idu persisted that, possible or not, I was there with a considerable force, and that a large army was approaching to reinforce me, and would be in Khwash at any minute, Shah Sawar asked how on earth it had been done. He well knew the country lying between Kacha and Khwash, and he could not believe the distance had been covered since he himself had seen the General Sahib in Kacha.

Idu replied that it was nevertheless true, and that he had come in a motor-car, also that he, Idu, had come in it too!

"What is a motor-car?" asked Shah Sawar, "and how could it come over the hills?"

"A motor-car," replied Idu (this is his own account), "is an infernal machine which climbs any hill as fast as you like. It can spread bullets in every direction. Neither you nor anyone else has the slightest chance if you try to fight against it."

It appears that Shah Sawar did not know whether to believe or disbelieve Idu's strange statements, so produced a Koran which all Sarhadis carry concealed somewhere under their robes.

"Will you swear on the Koran that the General Sahib is in Khwash, and that he really came over the hills in this strange thing which you call a motor-car, also that this motor-car is at Khwash?"

Idu grinned when he told me that he had sworn to all these facts. "Of course I knew, Sahib, that we had left the motor-car away up in the sandhills, but I know how you loved it, and I guessed that you would have sent parties of Khwashi to fetch it in."

This is exactly what I had done under Allan's guidance, for he had been heartbroken at the thought of leaving the car to become derelict. She had therefore been dragged out by the docile Khwashis, and had only a short time before been brought triumphantly into the fort.

"Well, is Shah Sawar coming to attack us?" I queried.

"No, Sahib. He is coming, it is true, but when he comes, he will speak fair, he will pretend that he never meant to fight against you, but that he only came out with his men to do you honour!"

So in due course Shah Sawar arrived, and when Idu brought me word that he was approaching, I went outside the fort to meet him. I had not the slightest desire that he should see how few men were inside the walls, neither did I wish him to have the chance of speech with any of Izzat's men. He was received with all the dignity I could muster, and I outwardly accepted his assurance that he had only come on a friendly mission, in fact for the purpose of doing me honour. I told him, however, that for the present he must remain with me as my prisoner—or guest—anyhow until his over-lord, Jiand, had arrived and vouched for his permanent good conduct. I then asked him casually when he expected Jiand to arrive.

He replied that the old Chief would be outside the walls of Khwash that evening, and that he was then only a very few miles distant.

I then dismissed Shah Sawar under escort, and ordered Idu to select one of his trustiest men. This man I told to choose the swiftest camel in the place, to set off at once, find our approaching force, and give a letter to Major Landon. In this letter I asked Landon to send on the cavalry at once, at whatever time the message reached him, as they must, without fail, be in the fort that night or early next morning if the situation was to be saved. The infantry and supply camels must follow as soon after as possible without the protection of the cavalry.

These orders were sent because I knew perfectly well that, at any moment, our true strength, or rather our weakness, might be betrayed by some ignorant Khwashi, or worse still, by some unsuspected traitor within the walls. It does not need much imagination to understand that if Jiand had got to know the truth before reinforcements could reach us, he and Shah Sawar's men combined, would have been able to take the fort in a very short time.

Just at nightfall, to our dismay, we learned that Jiand himself, with a large following, had arrived in the immediate neighbourhood, had camped close at hand, and was preparing to attack us at once.

Once again Idu volunteered to do a conjuring trick. It was a race now against time. If Landon could reach us during the night we could snap our fingers at Jiand. If he failed, well—we were done. To gain time, even a few hours, meant everything.

So having, as usual, obtained the promise of safe conduct, Idu went out to visit Jiand, and to endeavour once more to play the great game of bluff.

But when he returned he seemed very doubtful as to the success of his mission. He told Jiand that I was already in Khwash, having arrived by motor-car, on whose supernatural powers he enlarged once more; also that my whole army was in Khwash, having come in motor-cars, which were quite wonderful, though not so wonderful as mine (Idu's powers of imagination were on the up grade!). Jiand was, moreover, acquainted with the fact that Shah Sawar had already seen the folly of attempting to fight, and had paid me a visit of ceremony and of submission. Idu went on to say that I had heard of his treachery, and the fact that he was marching towards Khwash to attack me there; also that I was in a towering rage about it, and was fully prepared for him. His urgent advice to him (Jiand) was that he should present himself at the fort at eleven o'clock the following morning, make his profound apologies to the General Sahib, and that, meanwhile, he would himself plead with the General not to be too severe with the Chief when he came to surrender!

"Do you think he'll wait till then?" I asked.

"I don't know, Sahib," Idu replied. And for once his cheery good spirits seemed to have deserted him. "I am not at all sure that Jiand believed a word I said. If he did not he will attack us to-night, and——" he stopped significantly.

We all understood. Here were we, a mere handful of men, in that old mud fort (which meant so much to both sides) with two large enemy camps outside. Either of them, if they once learned the truth, could obliterate us in a few hours. Combined, our chances would not be given even that amount of rope.

It was a desperately anxious night. Everything now depended upon Landon getting my message. If an accident, or any other untoward happening, held up his force, or delayed it, we might reckon that all was up. We could not hope to rely on bluff beyond the following morning. Some of the Khwashis would, as certain as to-morrow's sun, be questioned by the Yarmahommedzais, and, if so, the truth as to the fort's garrison would be dragged from them.

I warned the five infantrymen of the great danger threatening us, and told them that there could be no sleep for anyone that night. Everyone must keep his eyes skinned for any movement in the darkness which might be the forerunner of a sudden night attack.

I myself made no attempt to sleep, but continually patrolled to see that every man was awake and in his place, and that no movement or talking occurred amongst Izzat's men.

Interminable though it seemed, the night at last wore itself out, and, as the dawn broke, I climbed to the top of the highest tourelle, like Sister Anne, to see if anybody was coming.

So far not a sign of the army, which must approach from the North. My spirits sank, and I anxiously turned towards the East, and South-East, on which sides Jiand's and Shah Sawar's men were encamped. No signs of movement there, but this meant little, for I knew that, under cover of those well-grown crops, their men could stealthily approach, almost to the walls, before being observed.

Once again my eyes turned to the North.

The hours went by, and with every one that passed my anxiety grew. What had happened to Landon? Had he been able to make good time, or was he, as he easily might be, if anything had gone wrong, still a day's march away?

Suddenly I saw a small cloud of dust stirring in the plain to the North, and my heart bounded.

Out of the cloud of dust there presently emerged the solitary figure of a camel with a man on his back. The camel devoured the plain until it was close to the walls, and I rushed down to the gate to see who the rider might be.

It was my friend the Sarhad-dar, and I was more touched than words can express by the manner in which he met me, embarrassing though it was at the moment. He flung his arms round me and embraced me with the utmost affection, for he said that he had not hoped to see me alive. My urgent message had reached Landon, who was now pushing forward at his utmost speed. They had also had numerous confirmations of the information I had given as to the numbers Jiand was bringing against Khwash, and of his intention to retake and kill its defenders. The Sarhad-dar's early arrival was explained by his action in telling Major Landon he could not wait to ride at the slower pace of the army, but must forge on ahead to see whether he could do anything to help me. The Sarhad-dar's action was one of great bravery, for he rode quite alone through territory which he was fully aware might have been swarming with enemies, and who were actually only a short distance from his path.

When he saw Shah Sawar he turned and cursed him volubly, telling him he was an accursed liar and traitor, and that, one day, he would see to it that he got his full deserts.

Once again I mounted to the tourelle, and this time the dust raised by the approaching cavalry could be plainly seen.

Idu, who was with me, looking in the opposite direction, announced that men were moving in Jiand's camp. But, though I have very good eyesight, and though I looked hard and long in the direction indicated, I could see nothing. Idu's sight was certainly phenomenal, but he could not tell whether this movement foretold an attack or a friendly visit. In any case it was very lucky that Landon's relieving force was so close at hand.

A few minutes later Landon himself arrived with the cavalry, hot, fagged out, and covered with sand, but much bucked at the fact that he had arrived in time. The camels and infantry were only a short distance behind, for, as we knew by bitter experience, the last stage of the route had been so bad, that, until the plain had been reached, five miles away, the cavalry could make no better going than the rest of our small force; hence the short distance separating them.

As a matter of fact the whole force arrived very soon after, full of fighting spirit, despite the fact that, for over a month, it had been continually on the march.

I felt we could now snap our fingers at Jiand.

As may be imagined it was a very cheery morning, for, now that the guns had arrived, we knew that Jiand had about as much chance of taking Khwash as of grasping the moon. We had beaten him in the race with only an hour or two to spare, but since we had won, the game was up for Jiand, at any rate for the moment—and he knew it!

In due course the old ruffian, for he was not lacking in pluck whatever he might lack in truth, arrived to pay a ceremonial visit, which he said was merely for the purpose of doing me honour. He had heard, he said, that it had been represented to the General Sahib that he had come on a warlike mission. This rumour was quite untrue. He had merely come, with about a hundred of his tribe, to repeat the assurances he had already given of his absolute loyalty to the British Raj! As a matter of fact he had left the bulk of his men at the camp because he was afraid that they would be disarmed.

He then asked whether he might see the motor-car, about which he had heard such wonderful stories. I promptly deputed Idu the romancer as lecturer, for no one could compete with him in a description of its marvels.

Allan solemnly set the car in motion, and Jiand and his men gazed at him as a sort of demi-god. So one must be who could so control the devil in this queer shaped thing that he could make it, without the help of camels or horses, move across the plain and climb the hills. Both he and the General Sahib must surely be in close league with Sheitan!

After a while I asked Jiand if he would like to go for a ride in it, assuring him he would enjoy it. But he promptly replied that he would not risk it that day. Perhaps at some other time.

As a matter of fact the old Chief was utterly unnerved at his second failure, and obviously under the impression that his position as over-lord of the Sarhad was once again in jeopardy.

When Jiand left I gave Shah Sawar leave to go too, but warned him that the next time he broke his word it would be the last chance he would get of doing it.

Towards evening Idu, who had slipped away from the fort on secret business of his own, came up to my quarters to tell me that when Jiand and Shah Sawar had got back to their camp, they had received a fine scolding from the Gul-Bibi, Shah Sawar's wife, for whose fair sake, it will be remembered, the latter had bartered Khwash to Mahommed-Hassan, her nearest male relation.

And he chuckled as he went on to describe how this imperious lady had jeered at them both, calling them fools, and twitting them with the fact that it was now common talk that the General had arrived with a mere handful of men, and had simply tricked them into surrender. Nor did she leave the matter there. She proceeded to tell Jiand that, had he had the heart of a mouse he could have attacked and taken Khwash the night before, or even early that morning, for the General's little force had not arrived till the sun was well up.

For her part, she said all her admiration was for the General, and she intended to send him two sheep as a present, and as a mark of her appreciation.

"As a matter of fact," Idu concluded, "the sheep have already arrived."

"But I can't accept presents from a people who have been showing themselves hostile," I said. "And how is it that a woman can have the audacity to lecture a Chief like Jiand, whatever she may do to her own husband?"

"You don't know the Gul-Bibi—yet," Idu grinned. "But you will. She is one of the most influential individuals in the Sarhad, though she is a woman. Also, she is one of the most beautiful women in the world. And you must pardon me, Sahib, but you must accept the sheep she has sent. For it would be looked upon as a great insult were you to refuse."

The Sarhad-dar concurred, saying that there was no choice. The sheep must be accepted as a peace-offering.

I gave in, and asked what I ought to do in return.

"Go and call upon her, Sahib," said Idu. "The Gul-Bibi is accustomed to have honour paid to her."

"All right," I replied, and turning to Landon, who had been present and much amused, I added, "You'll have to come too. I'm a married man, and I'm not going to call on the most beautiful woman in the world alone; though, by the way, I suppose she will be veiled?"

"Certainly not," Idu put in. "The Gul-Bibi values her good looks far too highly to conceal them. I'll let her know to-night that you and Major Landon will call upon her to-morrow in the motor-car. She will be more pleased at that than at the gift of many sheep."

That evening Landon gave me a very disconcerting piece of information, particularly so in the light of present arrangements. It was to the effect that, on the way to Khwash, he had captured one of Shah Sawar's men carrying letters to the Germans. These letters had been written immediately after Shah Sawar had been released from Kacha, and in the face of the promises given and oaths sworn on the Koran. In these letters he had renewed his offers of help, and had undertaken to allow them to pass, whenever they chose, through his section of the Sarhad.

"The treacherous brute!" I exclaimed. "What on earth are we to do about him now? I've just sent him back to his own people, and have come to terms with Jiand. Moreover, we have accepted the Gul-Bibi's peace offering, and have promised to visit her to-morrow. She seems so influential, too, that if we make friends with her, these ruffians may really keep their word this time."

After considerable discussion we decided to ignore Shah Sawar's treachery for the present and proceed as arranged.

Shah Sawar and Jiand had large numbers of their fighting men on the spot, and Halil Khan, with a third big force, was to be expected on the morrow. We must, therefore, endeavour to disperse some of these brigands to their homes before we court-martialled that arch-villain Shah Sawar!

The following morning Landon, the Sarhad-dar, Idu and myself, set off in the car to call upon the Rose Lady—the most beautiful woman in the world!

Half-way there Shah Sawar himself came to meet us, and eventually conducted us to a huge jugi. Inside this we found the famous beauty, seated on a pile of coloured cushions. To my great surprise I found that Idu had not exaggerated. The Gul-Bibi really was a beautiful young woman, very fair for a Sarhadi, with regular, clean cut, almost Grecian features, and unusual-looking, big hazel eyes. She was evidently small-boned, and her limbs and hands were beautifully modelled. She was obviously aware of her own attractions, and very animated. Her dress was white, embroidered in Persian colourings, and she wore a chuddah over her head, which fell in graceful folds, without, however, in any way concealing her face.

On our entry she rose with dignity and bowed. Shah Sawar then proceeded to introduce us one by one. We each bowed in turn, and, at her invitation, sat on the ground in front of her, in a semicircle.

She then proceeded to make us a very charming address in Persian, which Landon and I understood, though we could neither of us speak much Persian. This concluded, with the Sarhad-dar's help, as interpreter, I did my best to make a suitable reply.

These preliminaries completed, a very beautiful Persian carpet was produced and offered to me by our hostess.

This was very embarrassing, and I whispered to the Sarhad-dar that I could not possibly accept it.

His reply was emphatic. "You cannot refuse it. You must accept it as you have come here as her guest."

"But," I persisted, "I've got to court-martial her husband to-morrow, or the next day, and shall probably have to shoot him. I can't take a present from her under such circumstances."

"Shoot him, then, if you must," replied the Sarhad-dar. "She can get plenty of husbands. But you must accept the carpet now or you will give dire offence. You can in any case send a money present of equivalent value to-morrow if you like."

So I was obliged to accept the carpet with the best grace I could, and did my best in halting Persian to praise both the gift and the giver.

After this the interview proceeded merrily, and the Gul-Bibi proceeded to chaff her husband quite openly, telling him that he had been cleverly tricked and scored off. She also told him that he was a fool and as one without intelligence.

But Shah Sawar only laughed, taking his wife's raillery in good part. It was obvious that she had him very much under her thumb, and that he had a very strong regard for her.

Altogether it resolved itself into quite a friendly meeting, and, presently, we adjourned to inspect the car, which, as usual, was the occasion of much awe and wonderment. The inspection over we invited the Gul-Bibi to go for a ride in it one day, after which we took our leave and made our way back to Khwash.

A day or so later Halil Khan arrived with a following of about twenty-five men. He had left his lashkar some miles away, for he had, of course, heard of the surrender of both Jiand and Shah Sawar. Immediately upon his arrival we held another Durbar, and around the circle sat the same old collection of warriors, with their Chiefs Jiand, Shah Sawar, Mahommed-Hassan and Halil Khan. Juma Khan, the only man of his word I had yet encountered, was the one absentee.

Those who were present all solemnly swore to the fact that they were there on an entirely friendly mission, and that, if I had suspected otherwise, I had been totally misinformed! They were all sucking doves, or their equivalent, whose one desire was to do me honour!

I played up to the game, accepted their protestations, and told them that, this being so, I had a proposition to make. I then proceeded to suggest that the Chiefs, each with a certain number of followers, should remain with me, whilst the remainder were sent back to their homes. My idea, I said, was to raise a corps of Levies amongst the Sarhadis. I could guarantee that their pay would be good, and, as they were already such good fighting men, their training light. I also promised that many of their officers should be selected from amongst themselves.

After a short consultation they pretended to fall in with the idea, and several of the tribesmen actually enlisted then and there.

But Halil Khan got up and begged me to excuse him. He said it was not that he was not willing to serve in any corps I might wish to raise, but that he was very anxious about his wife and family, who were wandering about in the Morpeish hills. He was most eager to find them, and would look on it as an act of grace if I would permit him to go. As the whole scheme in view was to make their enlistment voluntary, I had, of course, to consent.

But he was not to go without a warning, and as he got up to leave I called him back, and looked him straight between the eyes. "Halil Khan," I said, with all the severity I could muster, "if you play me false, or ever raise your hand against me again, I will blow your head off."

He looked back at me as steadily. "Sahib, your kindness overwhelms me. I swear by the Koran" (drawing one from under his robes) "that I will never fight against you again."

"Well, I will accept your word this second time. But if you fail to keep it—remember."

And so he left, under safe conduct, and shortly afterwards Jiand, but not until I had reminded him that I had not yet received the loot he had taken, and which he, at our last meeting, had engaged to hand over. I demanded its immediate return, and laid special stress on the four tyres included in it. I also told him that he must return, at the same time, all Government camels seized when he had raided the British lines of communication, and also the four hundred Afghan camels which I had just heard his men had seized on the caravan route from Nushki to Robat.

Jiand faithfully promised that all should be returned within a couple of days of his departure from the neighbourhood of Khwash. This promise he kept to the letter, for the camels and loot arrived on the date specified.

As may be imagined, the tyres were specially welcome. Those on the car were absolutely worn out, and, of course, we had no possible means of obtaining others.

For the moment, everything seemed peaceful. So peaceful that we settled down in Khwash for a few quiet weeks; but, in the interval, did our utmost to make the place secure against all attacks.