I have never yet been able to understand why Halil Khan never brought his own force against us near Gusht, but only the Yarmahommedzais, after he had persuaded Jiand to let him lead the latter into battle. It can only be supposed that he thought he had a task easy enough to tackle with one lashkar, and that he would not, in consequence, endanger his own men's lives. The mystery is the deeper because he had previously been at great pains to collect all his scattered tribesmen, and had concentrated them in the Safed-koh. Yet these men, even when news reached them of our victory over Jiand's tribe and of the death of their leader, never made the smallest attempt to attack us or to reverse the decision of arms. It will be understood, then, that while the Gamshadzais remained unbeaten and their herds intact, our claim to dominance in the Sarhad could not be claimed as anything but partial. If, therefore, we were to hope for lasting peace in the future, they too must have a lesson. So, after a couple of days' rest at Khwash, we marched out with our faces once more turned towards Gusht, and with every hope of another victory. The composition of the force was much the same as that upon the previous occasion, but with the addition of a few Chagai Levies under Major Hutchinson (political officer). A couple of days' marching across the burning plain found us camped at a place called Ab-i-kahugan, lying in a small valley closely surrounded by hills. The men were hot and weary, and, as water had been scarce on the march, they were only too thankful to fling themselves down and rest. There were a small water hole and a few stunted trees and shrubs under which a certain amount of shade could be obtained. For myself I dropped down under one of these bushes and slept well on into the afternoon. When at last I woke, still feeling very done up with the heat, I saw one or two flashes of lightning in the distance, and felt certain that it was going to rain. I immediately got up and gave orders for the whole camp to be moved on to higher ground, and selected a likely spot on one of the slopes of the low hills surrounding the valley. The heat was still very great, and the effort expended in striking and re-pitching camp was not inconsiderable. The present camping-place was also infinitely cooler and more comfortable. As an outcome of this order an officer reported that the men were grumbling at having to move when tired out with the heat and the heavy marching of the last few days. I explained (for I knew by my own state how tired and done the men must be) that I had a presentiment that it was going to rain and that, if it did, the dry valley-bed would soon be a running stream. The officer stared at me. "Rain?" he repeated, as though he had not heard me aright. "But it hardly ever rains in the Sarhad, and it has never been known to rain in August."