The grass-cutter, armed with a small hoe, sits down on his heels, and with a sweeping motion cuts the grass half an inch below the surface of the ground. He then collects it, beats off the earth, and brings it home on his head. This grass is very sweet and nutritious. As the hot weather advanced they had to go further afield for grass. On the 2nd of March Akbar sent a large force round to the east, and they were invested. “I find this in my journal for the 2nd of March: ‘All our comforts are vanishing. Tea has long been gone; coffee goes to-day; sugar on its last legs; butter gone; no grass for the cows; candles not to be had. Akbar is trying to starve us out.’” Lead for the rifles was in great request. Some officers of the 13th hit upon a very comical method of procuring it. They dressed up a figure--cocked hat, red coat, painted face--and put it on a short pole. Hoisted up above the ramparts and managed adroitly, it created no end of fun. Eagerly the Afghans fired at it. Thousands of bullets went over their heads or battered against the wall below. Whenever they thought the General was hit or saw him bob down, they yelled and shouted like madmen. How many Generals must they not have killed! Generals running short! The figure was hit sometimes. In the evening or early morning they used to go outside and pick up the bullets, of which immense numbers were found. In the course of half an hour one morning Seaton picked up 121, but several officers picked up more. From the 2nd of March, the day on which the enemy established a camp east of the city, they all slept at their posts on the walls. No one took off his clothes. None of them wore uniform, but clothes made of camel-hair cloth. Too much digging for fine uniforms! On the 10th of March, as the Afghans had been thronging the ravines for many days, Sale thought it wise to see to it, so a sortie with 800 men was ordered. They thoroughly examined the ravines at night and destroyed the enemy’s shelters. As they were retiring into the town the enemy came on, pursuing with loud yells and screams. Their horse came boldly down towards the town, offering a splendid mark for Abbott, whose guns plied them with shot and shell with deadly effect. Not a single horseman could stand before Abbott’s gun within 1,200 yards, his aim was so unerring. Ever since the siege of Bhurtpoor he had been celebrated for his skill as an artilleryman, and they had daily proof of his prowess. So the month progressed, fighting or working by day, watching on the walls by night, and all the time on half rations. They knew that Government was assembling a force at Peshawar under Pollock in order to relieve them, for they got a stray letter now and then.