poured through the open gateway, closely followed by the main body under Colonel Sale; and after a short but fierce struggle between the Afghán sword and the British bayonet, Ghazní was won. The enemy fled in panic from the citadel, and sunrise saw the British colours floating over its battlements. Hundreds of dead Afgháns strewed the streets of the captured city, and many hundred prisoners, including Prince Haidar, fell into our hands. The ladies of his harem were treated with all courtesy, and no Afghán woman appears to have suffered personal harm[1].
The story of this gambler's throw, as told by Durand himself, shows how fearfully narrow was the line which parted success from failure. Keane, in fact, staked everything on the issue, for his troops had only two days' rations in hand, with small prospect of more food to come. As it was, he had cheaply earned a brilliant success with a loss in killed and wounded of less than two hundred. There was now no question of starving, for Ghazní had been stored with provisions for six months. And the capture of that important stronghold sealed, for a time, the fate of Kábul and Dost Muhammad. The Amír at once recalled Akbar from his post in the Kháibar hills. With a view to making one last stand at Arghandí, twenty-five miles westward of Kábul, he solemnly implored his followers on the Kurán to join him in making 'one last charge against those Farangi dogs.' But few of them had any heart for what seemed a
- ↑ Durand; Kaye; Sir G. Lawrence.
