This latter promise, however, I utterly discounted. It was not in the least likely that he would fight against his own tribe, and I knew that we should have to be perpetually on the look-out for treachery, especially until Landon and his little force arrived. But I had got out of Izzat, whilst still uncertain of his fate, the information that Jiand's preparations for the taking of Khwash had been quicker than I had expected; also that he was already on the march in full force, and would surely reach Khwash the following day. This meant that we had not a moment to lose. I had hoped that by arriving on the following evening I should be in time. But now we must make a dash for it, and, by hook or by crook, arrive by the morning. Evening was already approaching, but instead of camping for the night as I had intended, and getting by daylight through the hills lying between us and the valley in which Khwash stood, it would now be necessary to negotiate them by night. Allan looked dubious when I told him of my decision. "I can't guarantee to get the car through, sir," he said. "Idu says these hills are far worse than the hills near Ladis, and you know what a job we had getting through them by daylight. But I'll do my best." And if ever a man did his best Allan did his right nobly that night. A whole series of hills, without any tracks over them, intersected with nullahs, valleys filled with sand-drifts, and marshy tracts, had to be negotiated in the darkness, lighted only by the stars and the car's lamps. On the lower slopes we got stuck again and again in the narrow steep-sided nullahs, and it took the combined efforts of the Rekis, Izzat's men and a stout rope, always carried on the car, to drag her out. Over and over again it seemed as though we must give up the attempt and wait for daylight. But Allan came of the right stock. He also knew well how vitally important for British prestige throughout the Sarhad it was to be first in Khwash, and so confirm our supremacy there. So Allan stuck to his job, muttering repeatedly when the difficulties seemed insuperable, "I'm a British bull-dog, sir, and I am not going to be beat." This expression of Allan's afterwards became a saying amongst our men when any difficulty arose. But if Allan wasn't beaten the car very nearly was at one point when negotiating the worst bit of ground I have ever passed over in my life--for there was no going round it. The strata here were up-ended, and consisted of alternate layers of shale and quartz. Weathering had done its work more easily on the shale, hence the quartz, which was much thinner than the shale, projected upwards in great dagger-like points in every direction, and over a long distance. Of course tyres and tubes were cut to ribbons in a few minutes, and, as it would have been futile to replace them, the car was literally dragged over the ground on her rims.