CHAPTER XVII.

THE HALT BY THE LOGHUR RIVER.

Quickly marched our retreating forces, so menacing was the aspect and daring the conduct of the Afghans, that all felt as if something was to be got over, and that the sooner it was faced boldly and gone over, the better.

Prior to leaving the Cantonments, Rose had thought of dropping her whip _en route_, so that one of the handsome young cornets might have to dismount and pick it up; and thus, that by the consequent delay, they should be enabled to ride a little apart from the ladies and the escort; now--all such coquettish schemes and follies were forgotten.

Her Arab had been sidling along, coquetting with its own shadow, and rendering an officer's hand on the reins requisite now and then. Even of that attention Rose was oblivious now; laughter and fun had passed away, and a cold shiver passed down the poor girl's spine as she looked around her.

Hemmed in and crowded on by the invading rabble, the march of the columns became speedily disordered, and the music of the bands ceased. The moment our troops were clear of the Cantonments, a vast tide of Afghans, some eight thousand at least, rushed in to pillage the bungalows and other buildings, and then gave all to the flames; thus an indescribable tumult took place. Elsewhere, parties of armed horsemen made cruel and reckless dashes--literal charges--through the long and straggling procession of helpless camp-followers, and even through the column which had the baggage, cutting men down on all sides, and carrying off whatever they could lay hands on, in some instances tearing white children from the arms of their shrieking ayahs and bearing them off at the saddle-bow, to future slavery or death. Corpses soon encumbered all the route, and the snow became reddened with blood.

The air seemed to become laden with a Babel of tumultuous sounds; the fierce yells of the Afghans encouraging each other to rapine and slaughter; the more maniac-like cries of the fanatical Ghazees; the wild wailing of the Hindostani servants, as they, their wives or children perished, under the sabre or the occasional pistol-shot; the roaring of the frightened camels; the bellowing of the artillery bullocks; the voices of the European officers, seeking for a time to control the fury of their men, but succeeding for a time only, for the last file of the rear guard was barely out of the Cantonments, when from the whole line of the western wall, volleys of red flashing musketry were opened upon us by the Afghans, with their juzails, matchlocks, and even those percussion muskets which Sir Robert Sale was not permitted to take to Jellalabad. Lieutenant Hardyman, of the 5th Cavalry, fell from his horse, shot through the heart, and fifty more were killed or wounded at the same time; but though the 54th, to which corps Waller's company was attached, commenced an independent file-firing, facing about from time to time as they retreated, the Afghans still pressed upon the columns, discharging their long rifles with sure and deadly aim; thus, ere long the retreat became a flight, leaving on all sides Hindoos, men, women, and children, expiring of cold, starvation, exhaustion, or wounds.

Imitating the example of Polwhele, Denzil sheathed his sword, and arming himself with a dead man's musket, fired till his hands and elbows ached with the exertion of loading.

Tents and baggage of every kind, even a piece of cannon, were speedily abandoned to the Afghans, for the native servants and drivers fled on all sides, thinking to save their lives, but only to be eventually slaughtered in detail; while slowly and laboriously through the snow the troops moved towards a gorge in the hills of Siah Sung, in hope to get through the Khoord Cabul Pass before nightfall.

The forms of our half-starved soldiers who had been long on scanty rations of dhal, wild radishes, rice and ghee, were wasted and thin; their faces were hollow and wan; their whiskers were matted by mud and blood, the powder of bitten cartridges, and, in many instances, icicles hung from them as the breath froze on their moustaches.

With the baggage, all the remaining treasure became the spoil of the enemy; many a handsome Hindoo girl was borne off by the horsemen, who, though they galloped in bold defiance along the flanks of the retreating force, did not, as yet, attempt to molest the solid array of the Queen's 44th Foot. It was as in the song of _Pindara_:--

"Deeply with saree, doputta, and shawl, Jewels and gold the lootera is laden; Silks and brocades, and what's better than all, We have the choice of the matron and maiden! Zenana and harem Ring forth the alarm-- Vainly their riches and beauties are hoarded! Hoora! hoora! Quick with the damsels, For hills must be clambered and rivers be forded!"

From the rocks of Siah Sung, as the gorge was entered, more than one juzail ball found its way into the ranks of the advanced guard. The two fair-haired Cornets of the Irregular Cavalry, mere boys, in most brilliantly elaborate uniforms, fell; both were shot down to perish miserably amid the snow and mud. They sank in succession under the hoofs of the horses ridden by Mabel and Rose, and were left to the Afghans, whose knives would soon end their miseries.

"Oh what a sight for English ladies to look upon!" exclaimed Audley Trevelyan, feeling acutely the horror of all they were subjected to, while the tears they were forced to shed became frozen on their pale cheeks by the icy mountain wind.

Mabel had her riding switch shot away by a casual bullet; Lady Sale had one of her arms wounded by another, and several balls passed through the skirt of her riding habit.

Down below the hills into which they were advancing, and far away in the rear, a sheet of fire still enveloped the whole oblong area of the Cantonments, and the plain through which the Cabul flows was enveloped in rolling smoke, amid which the square masses of the Afghan forts loomed darkly forth; but few cared to give a backward glance as the troops toiled doggedly into the mountain gorges, where darkness, the winter-storm, and the treacherous foe went with them.

Snow, snow everywhere; the chill atmosphere was full of it; aslant the white flakes were falling to join others on the leafless planes and poplars, on the upturned faces and stiffening bodies of the dead. There was no horizon; all trace of it had disappeared; the Afghan horsemen hovering on the flanks were like shadows or spectres in the gloom--but shadows from whence a red flash came forth at times, and then a bullet whistled past on its errand of death. After a time these wild cavaliers rode into the ravines, and nothing was seen in the grey obscurity but the white flakes falling silently athwart it; and there were thawing and freezing--freezing and thawing at one and the same time.

It was misery, intense misery, all, and Denzil had but one thought, that on the ruddy, shiny, auburn billows of Rose's hair, and of her sister's too, these flakes were falling now.

With nightfall the firing had ceased; the soldiers marched sternly and silently on in the dark, and even the least callous among them had ceased to shudder now when treading softly on the limbs or breasts of the dead who encumbered the way. And to those in the rear, it seemed as if all in front were perishing.

"Meanwhile, amid all this horror, where is she?" thought Denzil; "with my precious cousin no doubt--yet, I pray God, that he may be able to protect her."

More than once on that disastrous march, however, had Audley ridden back to the rear guard to see if Denzil was safe, and to kindly proffer the use of his brandy flask. And now, by a miserable destiny, instead of advancing that night straight through the Khoord Cabul Pass, the inane old General allowed the Afghans to take possession of it, while he, most fatally, ordered his forces to encamp on the right of the Loghur river, if encamping it could be called, when the tents and baggage had alike been lost, the troops were without fuel and had only the snow to lie upon, and the falling snow to cover them.

"The bugles of the advanced guard are sounding a halt," said Waller; "it may be unwise, but I thank Heaven, as I am ready to drop, and shall have to snooze like the rest amid the snow and our glory. Glory--pah! I would rather have a glass of brandy-pawnee hot, than all the glory to be got in British India. Polwhele, make the company pile arms when we come to the halting-place--and now to look after the Trecarrels--God help them!"

As corps after corps came up and halted, friends and comrades could enquire as to who had been killed or lost on the march; wounded there could be none, as all who sank behind were certain to perish by cold or the long trenchant knives of the Afghans, who had a particular fancy for decapitating all the victims that fell into their hands.

Officers and soldiers were alike maddened with fury against the infamous treachery of those who had been paid in such terms to let them and their families depart in peace; and on all sides were heard the bitterest execrations of Ackbar Khan and his adherents. These became mingled with loud lamentations and cries of despair, when husbands found that their wives, wives that their husbands, or parents that their children, had been lost--hopelessly lost--on that long and terrible path of death and suffering, which led down the mountains to the rear, a path where none might dare to return or search for those they loved.

In cold and starvation those who had succeeded in bringing their little ones thus far on the way, could only pray, and weep the dire necessities of war, and marvel in their hearts if the time would ever come when swords should be beaten into ploughshares and spears into pruning-hooks, and "when nation shall not lift up the sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more." As yet, that piping time of peace seemed a long way off.

A few sentinels were posted in the direction of the enemy, and their posts some of them never quitted alive, being found frozen and dead when the relief went round an hour after. A little fire was made for the ladies by burning Audley's pistol-case and an ammunition keg; and full of pity, compassion, and horror, that women delicately and tenderly nurtured as they had been, should be subjected to miseries such as these, Waller, Denzil, Ravelstoke, and a few others procured by great exertion a sepoy pall, or tent, from the back of a baggage pony that lay shot in the pass; and then, scraping away the snow, pitched it for their use.

Therein, Mabel, Rose, and seven other ladies passed the night, nestling close together on a _xummul_, or coarse native blanket, with the skirts of their riding habits wrapped about their feet for warmth.

Audley Trevelyan, General Trecarrel, and other mounted officers kept beside their horses for the same purpose; and muffled in their poshteens and blankets, Waller and Denzil lay to leeward of the ladies' tent as a shelter from the biting wind.

So passed the remainder of the morning.

When day began to dawn and the cold light stole down the mountains upon that melancholy bivouac, it was found that the Shah's 6th Regiment, six hundred strong, had gone off in the dark, deserting to the enemy with all their arms; but there was another circumstance which created greater alarm still among the Europeans.

_Rose Trecarrel was missing_, and no trace of her could be found.