miles away! In a moment the camp was buzzing. "To boot, to saddle!" The tired escort, who had just marched in twenty miles and were settling down comfortably to their cooking-pots, were alert in an instant, bustling to arms. Not a thought of hunger or weariness-every man intent on the possibility of a "show"-and more eager than all, with the old lust of battle in his eyes, the Head of the Province.

Taking the cavalry with us, and bidding the infantry and guns follow at their best speed, off we cantered over the most villainous makeshift of a road that ever scarred a survey map. Over the bridge of boats, sharp to the right through a watercourse, along a narrow greasy track, with a mud wall on the left and a 7-foot drain on the right, over bridges made of twigs and dust, on we pushed. Now a riderless horse would flounder past in the deep irrigated fields alongside; now the whole cavalcade and half the Khans of the countryside had joined us-would pull up abruptly before a yawning watercourse too wide to jump. At Kot we heard that the village chigha were engaging the raiders at Ibrahim's well we could hear the distant firing.

Dauszai at last! with cringing panic-striken Hindus and excited women in possession. For the whole Muhammadan manhood were out by Pir Mukhdum's tomb, joining in or watching the fun. Indeed, when it had become generally known in the vil

lage that the merciless Usman was sitting with his gang in the shrine hard by, the village chigha with commendable courage had turned out with their strange armament, and had thrown a loose cordon round the graveyard. All the afternoon a desultory fire had continued, jezail answering Martini, and Enfield answering Gulf Mauser. Leaping from our horses, which we tethered at the village, we made our way across the open to where a rough morcha shielded the general staff of the village army. Already evening was falling, and the February sun was sinking behind the ragged hills of the border. One thing was certain-that unless the cordon was drawn tight, Usman and his merry men would make a dash and break through with the first fall of darkness. By good luck at that moment a small contingent from the detachment of the grand old frontier regiment at Fort Rustam rolled up, warned, like ourselves, by messengers from Dauszai. Some police, too, had arrived from Toti. With this increased force we moved forward to the graveyard. A bullet now and then whistled over us. But they were holding their fire for the night. Arrived at the wooded graveyard, within 200 yards of the tomb, the senior military officer began his dispositions, and the oordon was swiftly strengthened all round. The ground, which sloped gradually up to the tomb, and was broken by the mounds

away, digging positions for the guns. And all night the rattle of rifle - fire continued. A Khan brought us some hot tea, chapattis, and quilts from the village. Never did tea taste so good-and the quilts, though filthy beyond all Western conception of filth, were a welcome protection from the cold. It was a queer feeling to lie snuggling under this odorous covering listening to the varied talk of the firearms: that deep, booming report was from the tomb, a country gun probably; those sharp tearing cracks were our own short rifles; that again was the bark of a Martini; that thing that went over us, wailing and whimpering, was, doubtless, a piece of wire fired by a villager from a jezail; that nasty "phit" that tore through the leaves of the tree above us was a Lee-Metford from the tomb.

And so the night wore on. It was arranged that the guns should open fire on the tomb as soon as it was light, if the raiders did not break out before. It was most probable that they would—and the suspense was trying. Gradually the sky lightened, and the false dawn coloured the east; darkness again-and then the real flush of the rising day. How big the tomb looked in the half light! The gunners were estimating the distance, which seemed to get shorter as the light strengthened. "About a full brassey," I felt inclined to advise, but realised it would be flippant, though true. Bang, bang from the tomb, and a

bullet or two spat up the dust beside us-a narrow shave that made one the more anxious to hear the guns talking.

At last it was light enough I could at last make out the crest on the gunner officer's forage cap, and I knew that when I could do that it would be time. The guns were laid, the order was rapped out and with a tearing, rasping roar the first gun fired. The west portion of the tomb rose in a pillar of dust thirty feet in the air. As the dust subsided we could see the breach, and within great, grey, dust-coated figures figures scuttling away like giant mites in a giant Stilton. Shot after shot the merciless guns poured into the tottering building a very blizzard of destruction. And still a shot or two answered from the tomb. Warily, like a rabbit coming out of a coppice, a raider emerged from a breach -only to leap back again, terrified by the rifle-fire that sprayed round him. And then a strange thing happened: Usman himself-whether driven out by the others in the hope that it might save them, or whether resolved himself to die in the open like a gentleman— broke from the building and came charging down towards the cordon. Suddenly he stopped, picked up a stone, whether as an insult or a flag of truce we know not

and then, struck by half a dozen shots at once, spun round and fell. So died Usman Khan of Dauszai, outlaw, as he had lived, by violence. The guns were then moved up even

closer to finish the work of demolition. Surely guns have never fired in earnest at such a range before! When nothing but a pile of débris remained, we advanced. There is always the likelihood of the survivors on these occasions selling their lives dear-and the rush must be prompt. The guns, however, had done their work well, and though there were several raiders alive and unhurt, they were too dazed by the appalling percussion of the shells to think of resistance.

It was a grim sight-a pile of débris some forty feet by twenty with every imaginable horror entangled in it,-a very shambles.

There a poor wretch buried to the waist and mortally wounded lay in his death agony, carefully lifting a brick from one side to the other, as if engaged in some game; there a face that was nothing but an astonished mouth-the rest had gone. Dinnerless, breakfastless, sleepless, do you think we turned faint and sick at such a sight? Not a bit of it! and though usually I shudder at an operation on a horse, I thoroughly and honestly enjoyed that butcher's shop of raiders. And if you think I am a brute therefor, go and be shot at all night, and see if you would not equally enjoy seeing your enemy cold meat in the morning.

It was a fine bag-20 killed, 2 wounded, and 7 alive, more or less unhurt-most of these

buried deep in the débris and saved thereby; and they had with them a fine armament of Lee-Metfords, Mausers, Martinis, country guns, pistols, and daggers. There is nothing very plucky, you may say, in killing a lot of poor raiders with mountain-guns. Perhaps not: nor is it very plucky to shoot vermin with a shot-gun. But vermin must be shot: and raiders are vermin outside the pale of the law-and pity is not for them,

The countryside came buzzing round, mad with delight at the destruction of this maneater, and exuberant in their thanks and congratulations— and our ride back was a kind of triumphal progress. To quiet any religious qualms that might exist in regard to the destruction of the shrine, a handsome sum was promised to the local Khans to enable them to rebuild it in a manner befitting that sainted person, Pir Mukhdum Sahib.

"A jolly good morning's work," said the Assistant Commissioner, as we rode into camp.

"Yes," said the gunner; "after all, men are the best big-game.'

"Sidney Street, East," murmured the policeman.

The Head of the Province was humming to himself with an expression of great content. I think, though I cannot be sure, that the words were"Four robbers came to rob our house, And now we wear their trousers."