irresistible, and the Afgháns broke and fled; but the Sikhs carried their pursuit too far, and were overwhelmed by a charge of Afghán horse under Sirdár Shamsuddin Khán. Harí Singh, seeing a desperate effort could alone retrieve the fortunes of the day, rode with his principal Sirdárs to the front and by his presence and example encouraged the Sikhs to stand. The day might still have been won, but Harí Singh fell, mortally wounded by two bullets in the side and stomach, and his men, disheartened, fell back under the walls of Jamrúd and waited for reinforcements. These at last arrived, when the water and provisions had been exhausted, and nothing remained for the besieged but to cut their way through the enemy as best they might. But when the news of the Afghán attack first reached Lahore, a large part of the force which had been assembled to do honour to the marriage of Prince Nao Nihál Singh, was despatched north in all haste. The Prince himself, his father Kharak Singh, General Ventura, Jamadár Khushhál Singh, and all the flower of the Sikh chivalry, formed so formidable an array that, on their timely arrival at Pesháwar, the Bárakzái Sirdárs raised the siege and withdrew without further fighting to Jalálábád.
During these years of storm and stress the Mahárájá had maintained a strict alliance with the British Government, which was now, on its own account, inspired by evil counsels, to commence a course of interference in Afghánistán with the intention of
