But as we had come in the nick of time before, even so now.  We swooped all unexpected on the rear of the Wassmuss men, taking ourselves by surprise as much as them, for we had thought the fight yet miles away.  Echoes make great confusion in the mountains.  It was echoes that had kept the Wassmuss men from hearing us, although we made more noise than an avalanche of fighting animals.  Straightway we all looked for Wassmuss, and none found him, for the simple reason that he was not there; a prisoner we took told us afterward that Wassmuss was too valuable to be trusted near the border, where he might escape to his own folk.  There is no doubt Wassmuss was prisoner among the Kurds,—­nor any doubt either that he directs all the uprising and raiding and disaffection in Kurdistan and Persia.  As Ranjoor Singh said of him—­a remarkable man, and not to be despised.

Seeing no Wassmuss, it occurred to me at last to listen to orders!  Ranjoor Singh was shouting to me as if to burst his lungs.  The Kurds were fighting on foot, taking cover behind boulders, and he was bidding me take my command and find their horses.

I found them, sahib, within an ace of being too late.  They had left them in a valley bottom with a guard of but twenty or thirty men, who mistook us at first for Kurds, I suppose, for they took no notice of us.  I have spent much time wondering whence they expected mounted Kurds to come; but it is clear they were so sure of victory for their own side that it did not enter their heads to suspect us until our first volley dropped about half of them.

Then the remainder began to try to loose the horses and gallop away, and some of them succeeded; but we captured more than half the horses and began at once to try to get them away into the hills.  But it is no easy matter to manage several hundred frightened horses that were never more than half tamed in any case, and many of them broke away from us and raced after their friends.  Then I sent a messenger in a hurry to Ranjoor Singh, to say the utmost had been attempted and enough accomplished to serve his present purpose, but the messenger was cut down by the first of a crowd of fugitive Kurds, who seized his reins and fought among themselves to get his horse.

Seeing themselves taken in the rear, the Kurds had begun to fall back in disorder, and had actually burst through our mounted ranks in a wild effort to get to their own horses; for like ourselves, the Kurds prefer to fight mounted and have far less confidence in themselves on foot.  Ranjoor Singh, with our men, all mounted, and our Kurdish friends, were after them—­although our friends were too busy burdening themselves with the rifles and other belongings of the fallen to render as much aid as they ought. to help, and glad I was to have him.  A brave good daffadar is Chatar Singh, and now that all suspicion of our leader was weaned out of him, I could ask for no better comrade on a dark night.  Night did I say?  That was a night like death itself, when a man could scarcely see his own hand held thus before his face—­cold and rainy to make matters worse.