Many years ago, during the conquests on which we founded our Eastern Empire, our men frequently came into clash with the Gurkhas. In those days they were, as enemies, as formidable as they are to-day invaluable as brothers-in-arms. Here is a description of one battle incident in which we suffered severely at their hands: "Brave as lions, active as monkeys, fierce as tigers, the wiry little men came leaping over the ground to the attack, moving so quickly and keeping so far apart from each other that rifle fire was of little use against them. When they came near our soldiers they suddenly crouched and dived under the bayonets, striking upwards at our men with their _kukris_ and ripping them open with a single blow, then darting off as rapidly as they came." Until our men learnt this mode of attack they were greatly discomfited by their little opponents, who got under their weapons, cutting or slashing with knives as sharp as razors, and often escaping unhurt from the midst of the bayonets. In all the history of invasion and conquests, of floating dynasties and mushroom empires in the East, the most sanguinary chapters deal with the British subjugation of the Gurkhas. At a time when the Gurkhas were only some twelve thousand strong their reputation as fighters stood high. Many a time and oft had they raided neighbouring territory, carried off cattle, and even extorted tribute, so that at length the British authorities realised that there was only one course to take, and the message was sent to the bold Gurkha Chief: "Keep within your own territory or beware of the consequences." But this ultimatum was treated with scorn by the Gurkhas. Their haughty spirit could not brook such a demand. Hot blood seethed in their veins, and hot words were spoken at their council meetings. Their natural warlike spirit rose to the occasion and they declared war. That war of 1813-14, and that conquest of a truly warlike race, form a record of one of the most heroic achievements of the British Army. Nepal, the home of the Gurkhas, is situated on the slopes of the Himalayas. Its natural barricade on the north is a mighty line of peaks soaring against the sides of heaven up to the roof of the world, covered with everlasting snow. In front and to the south dense forests protect it from the approach of an invading host. Terrible were the difficulties and hardships of our men in these forests. Despair almost drove them back, while the prospect of utter failure seemed to stare them in the face. But, as if in a forlorn hope, our men went on, toiling and moiling towards the borders of Nepal; and, with the tenacity that saves every hopeless situation, gained at length the walls of Kalanga.