Meanwhile, a sharp little engagement had taken place further up the gorge, and as we advanced we could see the enemy retiring before a detachment of the 92nd Highlanders, under Colour-Sergeant Hector Macdonald, and of the 3rd Sikhs, under Jemadar Sher Mahomed, a Native of Kabul.  The manner in which the Colour-Sergeant and the Native officer handled their men gave me a high opinion of them both.[1]

On the top of the Shutargardan Pass that evening I received the Amir’s reply[2] to my last letter, in which he expressed his gratitude for the sympathy and support afforded him by the British Government, and informed me that he had given orders to the Governor of Jalalabad that the Khyber column should not meet with any opposition.  I was also given a letter from Sirdar Wali Mahomed Khan, and several other Sirdars, professing loyalty to the British Government, and expressing pleasure at my approach.  And at the same time the rather embarrassing information reached me that the Amir, desiring personal communication with me, had already arrived in Baker’s camp at Kushi, attended by his son Musa Khan, a lad about seven years old, his father-in-law, and the Commander-in-Chief of the Afghan army (Daud Shah), with a suite of 45 members and an escort of 200 men.

Although I had met with but slight opposition hitherto, it was evident from the secret information I received that the Ghilzais were inclined to be hostile, and intended to oppose us, and as it was important to keep open communication with Alikhel through their country, I arranged for the Shutargardan to be held by a Mountain battery, the 3rd Sikhs, and the 21st Punjab Infantry, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel G.N.  Money, an officer on whose judgment and coolness I knew I could rely.

The next morning I rode to Kushi, where my first interview with the Amir of Afghanistan took place.

I cannot say that I was favourably impressed by his appearance.  He was an insignificant-looking man, about thirty-two years of age, with a receding forehead, a conical-shaped head, and no chin to speak of, and he gave me the idea of being entirely wanting in that force of character without which no one could hope to govern or hold in check the warlike and turbulent people of Afghanistan.  He was possessed, moreover, of a very shifty eye, he could not look one straight in the face, and from the first I felt that his appearance tallied exactly with the double-dealing that had been imputed to him.  His presence in my camp was a source of the gravest anxiety to me.  He was constantly receiving and sending messages, and was no doubt giving his friends at Kabul all the information he could collect as to our resources and intentions.  He had, however, come ostensibly as our ally, seeking refuge from his mutinous soldiers, and whatever suspicions I might secretly entertain, I could only treat him as an honoured guest, so long as there was nothing proved against him.