At Quetta I stayed with Sir Robert Sandeman, the capable Resident, who by his great personal influence had done much to allay excitement amongst the tribes, and to prevent serious trouble in Baluchistan and along the border.  I had never before been to that part of the frontier, and I was greatly impressed by the hold Sandeman had obtained over the country; he was intimately acquainted with every leading man, and there was not a village, however out of the way, which he had not visited.  ‘Sinniman sahib,’ as the Natives called him, had gained the confidence of the lawless Baluchis in a very remarkable manner, and it was mainly owing to his power over them that I was able to arrange with camel contractors to transport to Quetta and Kandahar the huge stocks of winter clothing, medical comforts, grain, and the various requirements of an army in the field, which had been brought by rail to Sibi, and had there remained for want of transport to take them further on.

As the change to Quetta did not benefit me, and as I found that, owing to indifferent health, I was unable to carry on my duty with satisfaction to myself, I applied to be relieved.  My request was acceded to, and I started on the 12th October for India.

Riding through the Bolan Pass I overtook most of the regiments of the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force marching towards Sibi, thence to disperse to their respective destinations.  As I parted with each corps in turn its band played ‘Auld Lang Syne,’ and I have never since heard that memory-stirring air without its bringing before my mind’s eye the last view I had of the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force.  I fancy myself crossing and re-crossing the river which winds through the pass; I hear the martial beat of drums and plaintive music of the pipes; and I see Riflemen and Gurkhas, Highlanders and Sikhs, guns and horses, camels and mules, with the endless following of an Indian army, winding through the narrow gorges, or over the interminable boulders which made the passage of the Bolan so difficult and wearisome to man and beast.

I shall never forget the feeling of sadness with which I said good-bye to the men who had done so much for me.  I looked upon them all, Native as well as British, as my valued friends.  And well I might, for never had a Commander been better served.  From first to last a grand spirit of camaraderie[7] pervaded all ranks.  At the Peiwar Kotal, at Charasia, and during the fighting round Kabul, all were eager to close with the enemy, no matter how great the odds against them.  Throughout the march from Kabul all seemed to be animated with but one desire, to effect, cost what it might in personal risk, fatigue, or discomfort, the speedy release of their beleaguered fellow-soldiers in Kandahar; and the unflagging energy and perseverance of my splendid troops seemed to reach their full height, when they realized they were about to put forth their strength against a hitherto successful