Lawrence could not have decided better if all the circumstances had been known to him. Some of the Kalmucks, after the failure of their night attack, had crossed the river some distance below the bridge, and marching on foot for long hours in the darkness over the difficult and tortuous path through the hills, had turned back along the track to take the defenders in the rear. They were weary: they had no regular leader; and being accustomed to fight on horseback they were demoralized at the sight of mounted Pathans, few as they were, galloping straight at them. With a well-directed volley they might have annihilated the little band; but they let the opportunity slip. A few stood their ground and fired; the rest took flight, and while some scurried up the hill-side, seeking cover in the broken ground, where horses could not well follow them, others turned tail and bolted straight back along the track. The few shots thus wildly fired missed all the Pathans save one, and he was only scratched. Lawrence and his men pressed their advantage. Two of the Pathans wheeled to the right, and in spite of the steepness of the hill-side and the many natural obstacles, they dashed up in pursuit of the fleeing Kalmucks, cutting down several with their terrible tulwars before they could reach safety. Lawrence rode straight at the men who had fired. He overturned one by the impact of his horse, struck another down with his clubbed rifle, and then led his men after the others, who were running, some up, some down the bank. Two or three Kalmucks sprang into the river; within ten minutes the whole body was completely scattered. Only at the last did one who had climbed to an inaccessible crag on the hill-side and recovered from his panic, take good aim and roll a Pathan from his horse with a mortal wound. The charge was over; the victory was complete; and Lawrence reined up his panting pony. Not till then did he remember that Fyz Ali was not mounted, and must have been left far behind. What had become of him? Lawrence turned and looked back along the track. He was not in sight. "Stay here," he said to the Pathans; "I’ll go back and look for Fyz Ali." "Hai, sahib!" said one of the men, "it is foolishness. See, Ayoub is dead. Some of the dogs of Kalmucks are hiding behind the rocks above; they will shoot you even as they shot Ayoub." "Nonsense: I’m riding Fyz Ali’s horse: I can’t leave him in the lurch."