[Illustration:  THE ATTACK ON THE PEIWAR KOTAL. From a painting by Vereker Hamilton.]

These attempts to mislead the enemy were entirely successful, for the Afghans shelled the working parties in the batteries, and placed additional guns in position on the south side of the pass, showing distinctly that they were preparing for a front attack, while in our camp also it was generally believed that this was the movement which would be carried out the next morning.

When it became sufficiently dark to conceal our proceedings, all the commanding and staff officers assembled in my tent, and I disclosed to them my scheme for the attack, impressing upon them that success depended upon our being able to surprise the enemy, and begging of them not even to whisper the word ‘Spingawi’ to each other.

I had had sufficient time since I took over the command to test the capabilities of the officers and regiments upon whom I had to depend, so that I had now no difficulty in disposing the troops in the manner most likely to ensure success.

For the turning movement I selected: 

4 guns F/A, R.H.A., The wing 72nd Highlanders, No 1 Mountain Battery (4 guns), 2nd and 29th Punjab Infantry, 5th Gurkhas, 23rd Pioneers—­ Total strength 2,263 men with 8 guns;

and I determined to command the attack myself, with Brigadier-General Thelwall as second in command.

For the feint and for the defence of our camp I left under the command of Brigadier-General Cobbe: 

2 guns F/A, R.H.A., 3 guns G/3, R.A., 2nd Battalion 8th Foot,[6] 12th Bengal Cavalry, 5th Punjab Infantry.

In all, a little more than 1,000 men with 5 guns.

At 10 p.m. on Sunday, the 1st December, the little column fell in, in absolute silence, and began its hazardous march.  Tents were left standing and camp-fires burning; and so noiselessly were orders carried out that our departure remained unsuspected even by those of our own people who were left in camp.

The track (for there was no road) led for two miles due east, and then, turning sharp to the north, entered a wide gorge and ran along the bed of a mountain stream.  The moonlight lit up the cliffs on the eastern side of the ravine, but made the darkness only the more dense in the shadow of the steep hills on the west, underneath which our path lay, over piles of stones and heaps of glacier debris.  A bitterly cold wind rushed down the gorge, extremely trying to all, lightly clad as we were in anticipation of the climb before us.  Onward and upwards we slowly toiled, stumbling over great boulders of rock, dropping into old water-channels, splashing through icy streams, and halting frequently to allow the troops in the rear to close up.

In spite of the danger incurred, I was obliged every now and then to strike a match and look at my watch to see how the time was going.  I had calculated that, by starting as early as ten o’clock, there would be an hour or two to spare for rest.  The distance, however, proved rather greater than was expected and the road much rougher, but these facts were, to my mind, not sufficient to account for the slowness of our progress, and I proceeded to the head of the column, anxious to discover the true cause of the delay.