On the opening day of the campaign it fell to the Guides’ infantry to turn the right flank of the enemy, having, supported by the 4th Sikhs, captured after five hours’ hard fighting a commanding mountain, to this day called the Guides’ Hill, which completely dominated and turned the Malakand position.  It was next day, however, that a weak squadron of the Guides’ cavalry had the opportunity of performing a notable service.  After the passage of the Malakand the road runs down between gently sloping spurs into the Swat Valley.  At the end of one of these spurs was a rocky outcrop, which would now be called a kopje, and holding this was a regiment of Dogras, while in support, under cover, lay the best part of a brigade of infantry.  Just under the tail end of the kopje stood dismounted a squadron, fifty strong, of the Guides, under Captain Adams and Lieutenant Baldwin.  The neighbouring hills were covered with dense masses of the enemy, firing heavily, and severely pressing the Dogras.  Evening was drawing on and the day too far advanced for the British force to commit itself to any very forward or extended operations.

At this moment a temporary non-combatant, the well-known Roddy Owen, then acting as a newspaper correspondent, in the course of doing a little scouting on his own account discovered a large force of the enemy, estimated at two thousand men, committed to the open with the evident intention of enveloping the left flank of the Dogras.  This news he at once communicated to Captain Adams, and that officer rode back a short distance to take the General’s orders.  Just as he was returning, Lieutenant Baldwin, seeing that the moment to strike had arrived, boldly took the initiative and set off on his gallant venture.  The effect was little short of magical, and established irrevocably the moral of cavalry and the arme blanche for the rest of the campaign.  The moment the little squadron of the Guides appeared round the corner, yelling the well-known war-whoop of the Indian soldier, the whole of the forward movement of the enemy’s masses ceased.  There was a moment of hesitation, another of delay, and then the whole body broke and fled, fiercely pursued by the cavalry.  The execution done was considerable, but greater still was the moral effect.  From that day forth a mounted man was a power in the land.

The Relief Force now pushed across the Swat River, and over the Saram range of mountains, and came in due course to the formidable Panjkora River, formidable not so much from its size, or breadth, but from its great rapidity and uncertainty.  In a single night, fed by melting snow from the higher levels, it would rise from twelve to fourteen feet.  And this is exactly what happened at a critical moment, when it fell to the honour of the Guides to avert a serious disaster.