Bayonets Along the Border by John Wilcox Page A

from the heights of the Pass. It heralded the arrival of a squadron of the 11th Bengal Lancers, with supplies of provisions and ammunition, and the welcome news that the 35th Sikhs and 38th Dogras, plus more ammunition, were on their way up from the south. It had been another forced march and they were forced to stop ten miles from Malakand, for it was reported that they had lost twenty-one men on the way from heatstroke. Colonel Meiklejohn, confident that he could hold for at least another night, sent a message back that they should stay and rest.
    Throughout that next day, eager binoculars from the Crater scannedthe hills to see if there were signs of the tribesmen withdrawing, at last. But they were not forthcoming. Indeed, fresh warriors were seen to be still trickling down the passes. Attention, then, was turned to employing more sophisticated techniques to strengthen the perimeter of the Crater.
    During the day, the remains of the native bazaar near to the destroyed
serai
were cleared to improve the field of fire to the front of the camp and the remnants of the
serai
itself were mined so that explosive charges could be exploded by the pulling of lightly buried wires.
    It was just as well, for the ferocity of the attacks that night seemed to be greater than before. The east side of the
abattis
, where Fonthill and Jenkins were stationed, had taken the brunt of the fighting so far and Meiklejohn directed that the Guides who had manned the perimeter there, including the two white men, should change their positions and, hopefully, gain some succour by joining the 24th Punjabis on the less pressed west side. It proved to be what Jenkins described, during the night, as ‘an Irishman’s gift’, for the buried explosives were so effective that they diverted the attackers to the west perimeter, putting the Punjabis, who had now been manning the barricades for five nights in succession, as well as the Guides on that side, under great pressure, particularly for a hectic hour from 2.15 when wave upon wave of tribesmen hurled themselves forward.
    There was one incident, however, that occurred that brought smiles even to the haggard features of Fonthill and Jenkins. The Afridis who formed the 24th Punjabis were distant kinsmen, it seemed, to some of the Swats who were attacking them. During a lull in the fighting, the Swats called to the Afridis and suggestedthat these fellow Pathans and Muslims should lay down their arms and allow the attackers to walk over and jump the
abattis
. Their reward would be to share in the plunder that Malakand would provide. The conversation was relayed simultaneously to a curious – and anxious – Simon by an English-speaking Afridi. The Punjabis immediately agreed and, trustingly, the Swats rose to their feet and walked towards the defences only to be mown down by the grinning Punjabis.
    Fonthill and Jenkins observed all this with open mouths. ‘Ah, sahib,’ explained the friendly Afridi, ‘we never like the Swats, you see …’
    Once again, the defenders survived the attacks, this time most of them asleep on their feet by the morning. But a rumour spread that the Mad Mullah himself had taken part in the attack on the west side – so explaining the intensity of the fighting in the middle of the night – and been wounded and had to withdraw, so disproving his claim to be personally invincible. It was also said that another mullah had been killed outright. This raised spirits as did the defenders’ casualty count: only one man killed during the night and nineteen wounded.
    During that day, it seemed clear that the Swats and Bunerwals had shot their bolt. Long-range sniping continued but the tribesmen confined their activities to taking away their dead and wounded. One seemingly last attack was mounted later that evening after dark but it was easily beaten off. More frenetic was the very last assault launched later in the middle of a dust storm against the 45th Sikhs. Heated while it lasted,