close to the Loghur river, and about five miles from Cabul; but the whole country being a swamp incrusted with ice, we went on about a mile further, and halted at about 4 P.M. There were no tents, save two or three small palls that arrived. All scraped away the snow as best they might, to make a place to lie down on. The evening and night were intensely cold: no food for man or beast procurable, except a few handfuls of bhoossa,[1] for which we paid from five to ten rupees. Captain Johnson, in our great distress, kindly pitched a small pall over us; but it was dark, and we had few pegs; the wind blew in under the sides, and I felt myself gradually stiffening. I left the bedding, which was occupied by Mrs. Sturt (Lady Sale's daughter) and her husband, and doubled up my legs in a straw chair of Johnson's, covering myself with my poshteen."
The morrow brought no alleviation of suffering, but it revealed to sight several men frozen to death, and others so benumbed as to be scarcely able to move. At half-past seven the advance-guard moved off – no order was given – no bugle sounded. It had much difficulty in forcing its way a-head of the baggage and camp-followers, all of whom had proceeded in advance as soon as it was light. The remainder resumed their march in the best order they could; "if," says Lieutenant Eyre, "that could be called order which consisted of a mingled mob of soldiers, camp-followers, and baggage-cattle, preserving not even the faintest resemblance of that regularity and discipline on which depended our only chance of escape from the danger which threatened us."[2] One of the Shah's regiments had disappeared, and was believed to have returned to Cabul. The rest of the force proceeded; numerous bodies of Affghans, horse and foot, hanging on its flanks, and moving in a parallel direction with it. These were at first supposed to constitute the escort promised by the chiefs; but this belief was dispelled by their suddenly attacking the British rear-guard, under
