THURSDAY, 22nd APRIL.--Left Abdool Rahmon at 6.30 a.m., with an escort of 5 sowars (native cavalry), and cantered to Mandi Hissar, the next and last stage on the road to Kandahar. The country is a dead plain, with some little cultivation, and intersected by watercourses. There are numerous fortified villages dotted about, from which the passers by are very often fired upon. At Mandi Hissar I was to change my horse for a trooper from the cavalry detachment there, and also to relieve my escort. While the horse and escort were being prepared I had a talk with the old Soubadar (native captain) commanding the detachment of the 19th Native infantry quartered there, who, with all his men, were most anxious to hear all I could tell them about Major Waudby, who was beloved by all in the regiment. The old Soubadar told me that they all knew what a _big heart_ (_i.e._, how brave) he had, and he added "if we can only meet the Afghan scoundrels, we will avenge Waudby Sahib's death right well;" and so I feel sure they will. To show the feeling of this regiment I may mention that when the news of Major Waudby's death was received, a detachment of 150 men were ordered to march at once to join me. The men were told off in the usual manner, but when the detachment paraded it was found that 170 were present, 20 men having fallen in in the hopes that they would not be discovered, and would succeed in getting to the front. After leaving Mandi Hissar, the country is the usual stony, dusty desert for 3 or 4 miles, when a low range of hills are crossed, [Sidenote: First glimpse of Kandahar.]