hundred horsemen scattered and fled.

The loss of the Guides in this staunch little affair proved, when all
was over, to have been altogether insignificant; while the enemy on
their part, besides leaving many dead men and horses in camp, carried
off also, as was afterwards ascertained, a goodly number who would never
throw a leg over a horse again. The leader of the attack was the
redoubtable Mukaram Khan, one of the most daring and notable free-lances
on the border.

In consequence of this and other raids it was determined to take
measures, on a considerable scale, to discourage further efforts on the
part of the border tribes. Consequently a brigade of all arms, under Sir
Colin Campbell, moved out from Peshawur, to punish the lawless, and to
exact retribution from those who had erred from the strict path of
peace.

Amongst the various strongholds that were on the black list, and which,
unless they surrendered at discretion, were destined to be attacked,
captured, and sacked, was the Utmankheyl fortified village of Nawadand.
Opposite this the British force sat down with the studied deliberation
of old-time warfare, when contending armies might encamp for weeks and
months within a stone's throw of each other. During this dignified
pause, while doubtless supplies were being collected, and negotiations
proceeding with the enemy, the British outpost line lay in full view of,
and only "one shout's distance," as the Pathans expressively call it,
from the enemy. And outside the line of infantry outposts lay a cavalry
picket of twenty men of the Guides.

Thus it happened that one fine morning, in the month of May, 1852, the