On the 8th of September, as the first division of Pollock’s army approached the hills which commanded the road through the Jugdulluck Pass, he found that their summits were occupied by the enemy. Large bodies of Ghilzyes, under different chieftains, each with a distinguishing standard, were clustering on the heights. “The hills they occupied formed an amphitheatre inclining towards the left of the road, on which the troops were halted whilst the guns opened, and the enemy were thus enabled on this point to fire into the column, a deep ravine preventing any contact with them.”[269] The practice of the guns was excellent; but the Ghilzye warriors stood their ground. The shells from our howitzers burst among them; but still they held their posts. Still they poured in a hot fire from their jezails. So Pollock sent his infantry to the attack; and gallantly they ascended the heights. On one side, Broadfoot, ever in advance, led up his little band of sappers. On the other, Taylor, with the 9th Foot, ascended the hills, where the enemy, horse and foot, were posted behind a ruined fort. In the centre, Wilkinson, with the 13th, pushed up the ascent towards the key of the enemy’s position. All went forward with impetuous gallantry; and as they clomb the hill-sides and seized the Ghilzye standards, up went an animated and enthusiastic cheer from the British stormers. It was plain that their heart was in the work, and that nothing could turn them back. The flower of the Ghilzye tribes were there, under many of their most renowned chieftains, and they looked down upon the scene of their recent sanguinary triumphs. But they had now to deal with other men, under other leaders. The loud clear cry of the British infantry struck a panic into their souls. They turned and fled before our bayonets. Then galloped Lockwood with his dragoons after the enemy’s horse; but the nature of the ground was against him, and they escaped the annihilation which otherwise would have been their fate.