The Story of the Malakand Field Force | Page 2

what it looked like.
As I have not been able to describe in the text all the instances of
conduct and courage which occurred, I have included in an appendix
the official despatches.
The impartial critic will at least admit that I have not insulted the
British public by writing a party pamphlet on a great Imperial question.
I have recorded the facts as they occurred, and the impressions as they
arose, without attempting to make a case against any person or any
policy. Indeed, I fear that assailing none, I may have offended all.
Neutrality may degenerate into an ignominious isolation. An honest
and unprejudiced attempt to discern the truth is my sole defence, as the
good opinion of the reader has been throughout my chief aspiration,
and can be in the end my only support.
Winston S. Churchill
Cavalry Barracks, Bangalore, 30th December, 1897
CHAPTER I
: THE THEATRE OF WAR
The Ghilzaie chief wrote answer: "Our paths are narrow and steep. The
sun burns fierce in the valleys, and the snow-fed streams run
deep; . . . . . . . . . .
So a stranger needs safe escort, and the oath of a valiant friend."
"The Amir's Message," SIR A. LYALL.

All along the north and north-west frontiers of India lie the Himalayas,
the greatest disturbance of the earth's surface that the convulsions of
chaotic periods have produced. Nearly four hundred miles in breadth
and more than sixteen hundred in length, this mountainous region
divides the great plains of the south from those of Central Asia, and
parts as a channel separates opposing shores, the Eastern Empire of
Great Britain from that of Russia. The western end of this tumult of
ground is formed by the peaks of the Hindu Kush, to the south of which
is the scene of the story these pages contain. The Himalayas are not a
line, but a great country of mountains. By one who stands on some
lofty pass or commanding point in Dir, Swat or Bajaur, range after
range is seen as the long surges of an Atlantic swell, and in the distance
some glittering snow peak suggests a white-crested roller, higher than
the rest. The drenching rains which fall each year have washed the soil
from the sides of the hills until they have become strangely grooved by
numberless water-courses, and the black primeval rock is everywhere
exposed. The silt and sediment have filled the valleys which lie
between, and made their surface sandy, level and broad. Again the rain
has cut wide, deep and constantly-changing channels through this soft
deposit; great gutters, which are sometimes seventy feet deep and two
or three hundred yards across. These are the nullahs. Usually the
smaller ones are dry, and the larger occupied only by streams; but in
the season of the rains, abundant water pours down all, and in a few
hours the brook has become an impassable torrent, and the river
swelled into a rolling flood which caves the banks round which it swirls,
and cuts the channel deeper year by year.
From the level plain of the valleys the hills rise abruptly. Their steep
and rugged slopes are thickly strewn with great rocks, and covered with
coarse, rank grass. Scattered pines grow on the higher ridges. In the
water-courses the chenar, the beautiful eastern variety of the plane tree
of the London squares and Paris boulevards, is occasionally found, and
when found, is, for its pleasant shade, regarded with grateful respect.
Reaching far up the sides of the hills are tiers of narrow terraces,
chiefly the work of long-forgotten peoples, which catch the soil that the
rain brings down, and support crops of barley and maize. The rice
fields along both banks of the stream display a broad, winding strip of

vivid green, which gives the eye its only relief from the sombre colours
of the mountains.
In the spring, indeed, the valleys are brightened by many flowers--wild
tulips, peonies, crocuses and several kinds of polyanthus; and among
the fruits the water melon, some small grapes and mulberries are
excellent, although in their production, nature is unaided by culture.
But during the campaign, which these pages describe, the hot sun of the
summer had burnt up all the flowers, and only a few splendid
butterflies, whose wings of blue and green change colour in the light,
like shot silk, contrasted with the sternness of the landscape.
The valleys are nevertheless by no means barren. The soil is fertile, the
rains plentiful, and a considerable proportion of ground is occupied by
cultivation, and amply supplies the wants of the inhabitants.
The streams are full of fish, both trout and mahseer. By the banks teal,
widgeon and wild duck, and in some places, snipe, are plentiful. Chikor,
a variety of partridge,