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Pushut, 1st march beyond Kooner:  January 29th, 1840.

“This will be a letter of odds and ends, you know I was to return to Jallalabad; well I reached that place, but left the encampment and crossed the river, where an advance road making partly for the Kooner expedition were employed, and having originally determined on going to Kooner, I accompanied them two marches, when they were overtaken by the army, to avoid which, I halted one day, and on the next proceeded onwards by the north bank of the river, thus saving all the fords of this horrid river.  I should call it beautiful at any other season.  The road was bad, and the last one and a half mile into camp most difficult, the path winding round and over spurs of sharp limestone rocks which must have had abundance of silex in them they were so very hard.  At the very worst part, my headman being in front, all of a sudden I heard three shots in quick succession with the usual hallooing, and then I was called on in advance, meeting my headman wounded:  he has lost the two fore-fingers of his right hand.  All I saw was three men scrambling up the face of the hill, on whom I opened a fire as soon as my guns came up, and had the pleasure of hitting one on the shield.

“Such a scene ensued! for when there are three or four on such occasions we may reasonably expect thirty or forty, and my object was to get out of the bad road, and so be close to camp.  Some of, or rather all, my people became dismayed, I had therefore to cheer, to point my double barrels, and in fact to enact a whole legion.  One fellow tried to shoot me but his powder proved faithful, the others were wounded:  however they kept in sight, and to make matters worse, in one place within twenty yards, six or seven of my loads were thrown; evening drawing on, and prospects disgusting, when at last having passed over one bad part and got down into a ravine, a number of people were seen closing down on us, but my man had run off to camp, and by shouts succeeded in calling five or six sepahis, part of the rear-guard, to our relief, and so we escaped bag and baggage, the rascals making off when the red coats appeared.  I was sick at heart at the loss of poor Abdool Rozak’s fingers:  he is an Arab with an English heart, bearing his loss most manfully, and when his fingers were removed expressed anxiety alone about me and my Sundoogs (collections).  Well then, where should I have been had I been assailed as Abdool Rozak was, I should have been unprepared, and if riding, my mare would certainly have jumped into the river beneath.  Thomson {0a} said when he left me, G—–­, you are rash and Abdool Rozak is rash, take care or you will get into trouble.  My moving about without a guard was imprudent, and I now return to Jallalabad to get one, or if not successful to wait there until the spring and its floral excitements call me out:  what I dislike is danger without any recompense, not a flower is to be had; with excitement it is nothing.  I have now had two escapes, one from the buffalo in Assam, and this, which is a greater one, because had not the army been delayed by accident at the ford, it would have been eight or ten miles in advance, and consequently there would have been no rear-guard at hand.