Survivor: The Autobiography Part 16

This dreary prospect offering no encouragement to proceed, I returned to Camp 10 by a more direct and better route than I had come.

Monday, 6 May 1861 Moved up the creek again to Camp No. 9, at the junction, to breakfast, and remained the day there. The present state of things is not calculated to raise our spirits much; the rations are rapidly diminis.h.i.+ng; our clothing, especially the boots, are all going to pieces, and we have not the materials for repairing them properly; the camel is completely done up and can scarcely get along, although he has the best of feed and is resting half his time. I suppose this will end in our having to live like the blacks for a few months.

Tuesday, 7 May 1861 Breakfasted at daylight; but when about to start found that the camel would not rise even without any load on his back. After making every attempt to get him up, we were obliged to leave him to himself.

Mr Burke and I started down the creek to reconnoitre; at about eleven miles we came to some blacks fis.h.i.+ng; they gave us some half a dozen fish each, for luncheon, and intimated that if we would go to their camp we should have some more and some bread. I tore in two a piece of macintosh stuff that I had, and Mr Burke gave one piece and I the other. We then went on to their camp about three miles farther. On our arrival they led us to a spot to camp on, and soon afterwards brought a lot of fish, and a kind of bread which they call nardoo. The lighting a fire with matches delights them, but they do not care about having them. In the evening various members of the tribe came down with lumps of nardoo and handfuls of fish, until we were positively unable to eat any more. They also gave us some stuff they call bedgery or pedgery; it has a highly intoxicating effect when chewed even in small quant.i.ties. It appears to be the dried stems and leaves of some shrub.

Wednesday, 8 May 1861 Left the blacks' camp at 7.30, Mr Burke returning to the junction, whilst I proceeded to trace down the creek. This I found a shorter task than I had expected, for it soon showed signs of running out, and at the same time kept considerably to the north of west. There were several fine waterholes within about four miles of the camp I had left, but not a drop all the way beyond that, a distance of seven miles. Finding that the creek turned greatly towards the north, I returned to the blacks' encampment, and as I was about to pa.s.s they invited me to stay; I did so, and was even more hospitably entertained than before.

Thursday, 9 May 1861 Parted from my friends, the blacks, at 7.30, and started for Camp No. 9.

Friday, 10 May 1861 Mr Burke and King employed in jerking the camel's flesh, whilst I went to look for the nardoo seed for making bread: in this I was unsuccessful, not being able to find a single tree of it in the neighborhood of the camp. I, however, tried boiling the large kind of bean which the blacks call padlu; they boil easily, and when sh.e.l.led are very sweet, much resembling in taste the French chestnut; they are to be found in large quant.i.ties nearly everywhere.

Sat.u.r.day, 11 May 1861 Today Mr Burke and King started down the creek to the blacks' camp, determined to ascertain all particulars about the nardoo. I have now my turn at the meat jerking, and must devise some means for trapping the birds and rats, which is a pleasant prospect after our das.h.i.+ng trip to Carpentaria, having to hang about Cooper's Creek, living like the blacks.

Sunday, 12 May 1861 Mr Burke and King returned this morning having been unsuccessful in their search for the blacks, who it seems have moved over to the other branch of the creek.

Tuesday, 14 May 1861 Mr Burke and King gone up the creek to look for blacks with four days' provisions. Self-employed in preparing for a final start on their return.

This evening Mr Burke and King returned, having been some considerable distance up the creek and found no blacks. It is now settled that we plant the things, and all start together the day after tomorrow.

Wednesday, 15 May 1861 Planting the things and preparing to leave the creek for Mount Hopeless.

Thursday, 16th May 1861 Having completed our planting, etc., started up the creek for the second blacks' camp, a distance of about eight miles: finding our loads rather too heavy we made a small plant here of such articles as could best be spared.

Nardoo, Friday, 17 May 1861 Started this morning on a blacks' path, leaving the creek on our left, our intention being to keep a south-easterly direction until we should cut some likely looking creek, and then to follow it down. On approaching the foot of the first sandhill, King caught sight in the flat of some nardoo seeds, and we soon found that the flat was covered with them. This discovery caused somewhat of a revolution in our feelings, for we considered that with the knowledge of this plant we were in a position to support ourselves, even if we were destined to remain on the creek and wait for a.s.sistance from town.

Friday, 24 May 1861 Started with King to celebrate the Queen's birthday by fetching from Nardoo Creek what is now to us the staff of life; returned at a little after two p.m. with a fair supply, but find the collecting of the seed a slower and more troublesome process than could be desired.

Monday, 27 May 1861 Started up the creek this morning for the depot, in order to deposit journals and a record of the state of affairs here. On reaching the sandhills below where Landa was bogged, I pa.s.sed some blacks on a flat collecting nardoo seed. Never saw such an abundance of the seed before. The ground in some parts was quite black with it. There were only two or three gins13 and children, and they directed me on, as if to their camp, in the direction I was before going; but I had not gone far over the first sandhill when I was overtaken by about twenty blacks, bent on taking me back to their camp, and promising any quant.i.ty of nardoo and fish. On my going with them, one carried the shovel, and another insisted on taking my swag in such a friendly manner that I could not refuse them. They were greatly amused with the various little things I had with me. In the evening they supplied me with abundance of nardoo and fish, and one of the old men, Poko Tinnamira, shared his gunyah with me.

Tuesday, 28 May 1861 Left the blacks' camp, and proceeded up the creek; obtained some mussels near where Landa died, and halted for breakfast. Still feel very unwell.

Wednesday, 29 May Started at seven a.m., and went on to the duckholes, where we breakfasted coming down. Halted there at 9.30 a.m. for a feed, and then moved on. At the stones saw a lot of crows quarrelling about something near the water; found it to be a large fish, of which they had eaten a considerable portion. As it was quite fresh and good, I decided the quarrel by taking it with me. It proved a most valuable addition to my otherwise scanty supper of nardoo porridge. This evening I camped very comfortably in a mia-mia, about eleven miles from the depot. The night was very cold, although not entirely cloudless.

Thursday, 30 May 1861 Reached the depot this morning at eleven a.m.; no traces of anyone except blacks having been here since we left. Deposited some journals and a notice of our present condition. Started back in the afternoon, and camped at the first waterhole. Last night, being cloudy, was unusually warm and pleasant.

Friday, 31 May 1861 Decamped at 7.30 a.m., having first breakfasted; pa.s.sed between the sandhills at nine a.m., and reached the blanket mia-mias at 10.40 a.m.; from there proceeded on to the rocks, where I arrived at 1.30 p.m., having delayed about half an hour on the road in gathering some portulac. It had been a fine morning, but the sky now became overcast, and threatened to set in for steady rain; and as I felt very weak and tired, I only moved on about a mile further, and camped in a sheltered gully under some bushes.

Sat.u.r.day, 1 June 1861 Started at 7.45 a.m.; pa.s.sed the duckholes at ten a.m. and my second camp up, at two p.m., having rested in the meantime about forty-five minutes. Thought to have reached the blacks' camp, or at least where Landa was bogged, but found myself altogether too weak and exhausted; in fact, had extreme difficulty in getting across the numerous little gullies, and was at last obliged to camp from sheer fatigue.

Sunday, 2 June 1861 Started at half past six, thinking to breakfast at the blacks' camp below Landa's grave. Found myself very much f.a.gged, and did not arrive at their camp until ten a.m., and then found myself disappointed as to a good breakfast, the camp being deserted. Having rested awhile and eaten a few fishbones, I moved down the creek, hoping by a late march to be able to reach our own camp; but I soon found, from my extreme weakness, that that would be out of the question. A certain amount of good luck, however, still stuck to me, for on going along by a large waterhole I was so fortunate as to find a large fish, about a pound and a half in weight, which was just being choked by another which it had tried to swallow, but which had stuck in its throat. I soon had a fire lit, and both of the fish cooked and eaten: the large one was in good condition. Moving on again after my late breakfast, I pa.s.sed Camp No. 67 of the journey to Carpentaria, and camped for the night under some polygonum bushes.

Monday, 3 June 1861 Started at seven o'clock, and keeping on the south bank of the creek was rather encouraged at about three miles by the sound of numerous crows ahead; presently fancied I could see smoke, and was shortly afterwards set at my ease by hearing a cooey from Pitchery, who stood on the opposite bank, and directed me round the lower end of the waterhole, continually repeating his a.s.surance of abundance of fish and bread. Having with some considerable difficulty managed to ascend the sandy path that led to the camp, I was conducted by the chief to a fire where a large pile of fish were just being cooked in the most approved style. These I imagined to be for the general consumption of the half-dozen natives gathered around, but it turned out that they had already had their breakfast. I was expected to dispose of this lot a task which, to my own astonishment, I soon accomplished, keeping two or three blacks pretty steadily at work extracting the bones for me. The fish being disposed of, next came a supply of nardoo cake and water until I was so full as to be unable to eat any more; when Pitchery, allowing me a short time to recover myself, fetched a large bowl of the raw nardoo flour mixed to a thin paste, a most insinuating article, and one that they appear to esteem a great delicacy. I was then invited to stop the night there, but this I declined, and proceeded on my way home.

Tuesday, 4 June 1861 Started for the blacks' camp intending to test the practicability of living with them, and to see what I could learn as to their ways and manners.

Wednesday, 5 June 1861 Remained with the blacks. Light rain during the greater part of the night, and more or less throughout the day in showers. Wind blowing in squalls from south.

Thursday, 6 June 1861 Returned to our own camp: found that Mr Burke and King had been well supplied with fish by the blacks. Made preparation for s.h.i.+fting our camp nearer theirs on the morrow.

Friday, 7 June 1861 Started in the afternoon for the blacks' camp with such things as we could take; found ourselves all very weak in spite of the abundant supply of fish that we have lately had. I myself, could scarcely get along, although carrying the lightest swag, only about thirty pounds. Found that the blacks had decamped, so determined on proceeding tomorrow up to the next camp, near the nardoo field.

Sat.u.r.day, 8 June 1861 With the greatest fatigue and difficulty we reached the nardoo camp. No blacks, greatly to our disappointment; took possession of their best mia-mia and rested for the remainder of the day.

Sunday, 9 June 1861 King and I proceeded to collect nardoo, leaving Mr Burke at home.

Monday, 10 June 1861 Mr Burke and King collecting nardoo; self at home too weak to go out; was fortunate enough to shoot a crow.

Tuesday, 11 June 1861 King out for nardoo; Mr Burke up the creek to look for the blacks.

Wednesday, 12 June 1861 King out collecting nardoo; Mr Burke and I at home pounding and cleaning. I still feel myself, if anything, weaker in the legs, although the nardoo appears to be more thoroughly digested.

Thursday, 13 June 1861 Mr Burke and King out for nardoo; self weaker than ever; scarcely able to go to the waterhole for water.

Friday, 14 June 1861 Night alternately clear and cloudy; no wind; beautifully mild for the time of year; in the morning some heavy clouds on the horizon. King out for nardoo; brought in a good supply. Mr Burke and I at home, pounding and cleaning seed. I feel weaker than ever, and both Mr B. and King are beginning to feel very unsteady in the legs.

Sat.u.r.day, 15 June 1861 Night clear, calm, and cold; morning very fine, with a light breath of air from NE. King out for nardoo; brought in a fine supply. Mr Burke and I pounding and cleaning; he finds himself getting very weak, and I am not a bit stronger.

Sunday, 16 June 1861 We finished up the remains of the camel Rajah yesterday, for dinner; King was fortunate enough to shoot a crow this morning.

The rain kept all hands in, pounding and cleaning seed during the morning. The weather cleared up towards the middle of the day, and a brisk breeze sprang up in the south, lasting till near sunset, but rather irregular in its force. Distant thunder was audible to westward and southward frequently during the afternoon.

Monday, 17 June 1861 Night very boisterous and stormy; northerly wind blowing in squalls, and heavy showers of rain, with thunder in the north and west. King out in the afternoon for nardoo.

Tuesday, 18 June 1861 Exceedingly cold night; sky clear, slight breeze, very chilly and changeable; very heavy dew, warmer towards noon.

Wednesday, 19 June 1861 About eight o'clock a strong southerly wind sprung up, which enabled King to blow the dust out of our nardoo seed, but made me too weak to render him any a.s.sistance.

Thursday, 20th June, 1861 Night and morning very cold, sky clear. I am completely reduced by the effects of the cold and starvation. King gone out for nardoo; Mr Burke at home pounding seed; he finds himself getting very weak in the legs. King holds out by far the best; the food seems to agree with him pretty well.

Finding the sun come out pretty warm towards noon, I took a sponging all over; but it seemed to do little good beyond the cleaning effects, for my weakness is so great that I could not do it with proper expedition.

I cannot understand this nardoo at all it certainly will not agree with me in any form; we are now reduced to it alone, and we manage to consume from four to five pounds per day between us; it appears to be quite indigestible, and cannot possibly be sufficiently nutritious to sustain life by itself.

Friday, 21 June 1861 Last night was cold and clear, winding up with a strong wind from NE in the morning. I feel much weaker than ever and can scarcely crawl out of the mia-mia. Unless relief comes in some form or other, I cannot possibly last more than a fortnight.

It is a great consolation, at least, in this position of ours, to know that we have done all we could, and that our deaths will rather be the result of the mismanagement of others than of any rash acts of our own. Had we come to grief elsewhere, we could only have blamed ourselves; but here we are returned to Cooper's Creek, where we had every reason to look for provisions and clothing; and yet we have to die of starvation, in spite of the explicit instructions given by Mr Burke 'That the depot party should await our return'; and the strong recommendation to the Committee 'that we should be followed up by a party from Menindie'.

Sat.u.r.day, 22 June 1861 There were a few drops of rain during the night, and in the morning, about nine a.m., there was every prospect of more rain until towards noon, when the sky cleared up for a time.

Mr Burke and King are out for nardoo; the former returned much fatigued. I am so weak today as to be unable to get on my feet.

Sunday, 23 June 1861 All hands at home. I am so weak as to be incapable of crawling out of the mia-mia. King holds out well, but Mr Burke finds himself weaker every day.

Monday, 24 June 1861 A fearful night. At about an hour before sunset, a southerly gale sprung up and continued throughout the greater portion of the night; the cold was intense, and it seemed as if one would be shrivelled up. Towards morning it fortunately lulled a little, but a strong cold breeze continued till near sunset, after which it became perfectly calm.

King went out for nardoo in spite of the wind, and came in with a good load; but he himself terribly cut up. He says that he can no longer keep up the work, and as he and Mr Burke are both getting rapidly weaker, we have but a slight chance of anything but starvation, unless we can get hold of some blacks.

Tuesday, 25 June 1861 Night calm, clear, and intensely cold, especially towards morning. Near daybreak, King reported seeing a moon in the east, with a haze of light stretching up from it; he declared it to be quite as large as the moon, and not dim at the edges. I am so weak that any attempt to get a sight of it was out of the question; but I think it must have been Venus in the Zodiacal Light that he saw, with a corona around her.

Wednesday, 26 June Mr Burke and King remain at home cleaning and pounding seed; they are both getting weaker every day; the cold plays the deuce with us, from the small amount of clothing we have: my wardrobe consists of a wide-awake, a merino s.h.i.+rt, a regatta s.h.i.+rt without sleeves, the remains of a pair of flannel trousers, two pairs of socks in rags, and a waistcoat, of which I have managed to keep the pockets together. The others are no better off. Besides these, we have between us, for bedding, two small camel pads, some horsehair, two or three little bits of rag, and pieces of oilcloth saved from the fire.

The day turned out nice and warm.

Thursday, 28 June 1861 Mr Burke and King are preparing to go up the creek in search of the blacks; they will leave me some nardoo, wood, and water, with which I must do the best I can until they return. I think this is almost our only chance. I feel myself, if anything, rather better, but I cannot say stronger: the nardoo is beginning to agree better with me; but without some change I see little chance for any of us. They have both shown great hesitation and reluctance with regard to leaving me, and have repeatedly desired my candid opinion in the matter. I could only repeat, however, that I considered it our only chance, for I could not last long on the nardoo, even if a supply could be kept up.

Friday, 29 June 1861 Clear, cold night, slight breeze from the east, day beautifully warm and pleasant. Mr Burke suffers greatly from the cold and is getting extremely weak; he and King start tomorrow up the creek to look for the blacks; it is the only chance we have of being saved from starvation. I am weaker than ever, although I have a good appet.i.te and relish the nardoo much; but it seems to give us no nutriment, and the birds here are so shy as not to be got at. Even if we got a good supply of fish, I doubt whether we could do much work on them and the nardoo alone. Nothing now but the greatest good luck can save any of us; and as for myself I may live four or five days if the weather continues warm. My pulse is at forty-eight, and very weak, and my legs and arms are nearly skin and bone. I can only look out, like Mr Micawber, 'for something to turn up'; starvation on nardoo is by no means very unpleasant, but for the weakness one feels, and the utter inability to move one's self; for as far as appet.i.te is concerned, it gives the greatest satisfaction.

(Signed) W. J. WILLS Wills's journal was found lying beside his corpse. Burke also died of starvation. King managed to find an aboriginal band and was eventually rescued.

Anglo-American travel writer and artist. As part of a journey behind the forbidden borders of Asia, he left Soviet-occupied Afghanistan in 1984 with a mujahedeen jeep convoy for Pakistan.

The journey, as we bucked and b.u.mped our way across the desert, was quite back-breaking, but I felt that I could take it pretty uncomplainingly, for after all it would only be another couple of nights, and then . . . Then, goodbye helicopters, MiGs, RPGs and barren desert. Why, in 72 hours' time I would be relaxing in the swimming pool of a sumptuous hotel.

My daydreams were abruptly overwhelmed by the sight of another burnt-out Symorgh. It was the fifth wreck we had pa.s.sed. How many dead, I wondered, just in this little struggle for control of the road. Clearly it was not firmly back in mujahedeen hands.

We were going to have to travel for a short stretch along the main road that links Kabul and Kandahar, and we had sent scouts ahead to check if it was clear. Now, we pulled over to await their return. It was a tense time, and I found myself having to breathe deeply and regularly to contain my excitement. I did not think I could bear it if they were to return and say 'Ra band' the way is closed.

'When can we expect them?' I asked one of my companions a rather better-off young man, who had feigned sickness off and on in the hope of getting me to give him some pills, which I think he took to be like sweets.

'Two hours,' he said promptly. I decided to expect them in four. In fact, they returned in precisely two hours, and you could tell by their faces what they were going to say.

'Ra band.'

We spent the rest of that night and the whole of the next day holed up tensely at an oasis, marking time under the shadow of the trees, while the scouts were dispatched yet again to keep an eye on the situation. Restlessly, we once again discussed alternative possibilities. As we did so, Abdul Mohmy, his usual tireless self, went to bake bread for us at a nearby hamlet.

'Could we walk?' I asked.

'It would take five days if we could get through.'

'No water,' said Abdul Rahman. He was more restless than anyone else, and clearly couldn't relax.

'What's the matter with him? Is he ill?' I asked Zahir, my minder.

'I think he must be afraid,' replied Zahir.

With two hours of daylight left the scouts returned, this time with the heartening but almost unbelievable news that the road was once again 'ra azad'. I hoped it would still be so by the time we reached it. We headed off at once.

We had only just cleared the first hill and begun to travel along a dry river bed when someone near me began to scream, 'Tiare!'

The panicky word caught on, and soon they were all yelling it, craning for a sight of the sky from the packed jeep. They had spotted a plane.

The jeep slowed violently, and we struggled to bail out, but there were many unable to jump when the jeep decided to take off at full speed. We were the middle jeep. The leader had carried on apparently unaware; the last one had seen the panic ahead and reversed up a hill. Ours had come to a halt some way off and the driver and the mechanic were throwing a tarpaulin over it. We had all rushed up a steep incline and now crouched huddled together, taking refuge in whatever crevice we could find all, that is, except for one man who had taken off in the other direction into the open where, to my total disbelief, he now knelt and proceeded to pray. We strained our ears for the noise of the returning jet, but we must have been just in time to get out of its way, for the sound of its engine faded and finally died.

Once the danger was over, the whole group settled down to pray I have to say that I found this vexing, given how urgent our situation was. Our driver seemed to pray for an inordinately long time.

We caught up with the first jeep. They, too, had heard the plane, and had rounded a bend and pulled up close to the cliff-wall of the valley we had been pa.s.sing through.

'Thank G.o.d for that valley,' the mechanic said.

'Thank G.o.d we weren't five minutes further along the track,' said the driver. 'Then we would have been in open desert.'

During the long days of marching before Nouzad, I had learned to tell the time by measuring the length of my shadow cast by the sun. Now I tried to teach myself how to get my bearings by the stars. I always kept an eye on where the nearest mountains were, and remembered the location of the last oasis we had visited. This wasn't easy. We never took a direct route, but were forever weaving around the desert. I was most impressed by our drivers' uncanny sense of direction, but perhaps the close brush with the aeroplane had disconcerted them more than somewhat, for all at once the three jeeps pulled up together and the drivers announced that they were lost. It was by now dark, and to go on without a guide would have been foolhardy. Luckily, and as always happens in the Afghan desert, other life appeared within a matter of moments, in the form of a tractor and its driver.

Immediately our drivers started to argue with our commanders about who was going to pay this guide for his services. Each side was trying to outdo the other, of course, and there was lot of lip-curling and 'Call yourselves Muslims?' going on. Meantime valuable minutes ticked by, and my nerves were becoming frayed.

'How much are you arguing about?' I asked.

'He wants one thousand Afghanis.'

About 7! I was about to pull out the money in Afghanis, thinking, to h.e.l.l with this, I'll pay, but then I stopped. I knew that such a gesture would be hopeless. It would also betray me and endanger my companions. So I sat and seethed until the argument was resolved, trying to calm myself with the thought that for an Afghan, 7 is a considerable sum.

The tractor-driver guided us down a dirt track to a village where dozens and dozens of children milled about, despite the fact that by now it was the middle of the night. We stopped for the mechanics to overhaul the jeeps as far as they could, and for our drivers to find out how far we were still from the Kabul Kandahar road.

'Three hours,' came the inevitable reply. Gloomily, we refuelled the jeeps from the oil drums they carried and set off again but at snail's pace, for the track ahead was full of pitfalls, and we had to send two mujahedeen ahead of each vehicle to guide us. However, at length we reached the road. Our tractor-driving guide left us, and I was about to breathe a sigh of relief. Then one of the jeeps broke down. It took half an hour to repair it, by which time I estimated that we had a bare hour of darkness left to travel in. But now, instead of taking to the road, our drivers took off along a track to the left of it.

The track led us to a bowl-shaped area surrounded on three sides by precipitous mountains.

'What are we doing here?' I asked Abdul Rahman as calmly as I could.

Abdul Rahman had recovered quite a lot of his composure. 'We will camp here tonight, and then in the morning we will climb to the guerrilla stronghold at the top of that hill,' he said.

During all my time in Afghanistan, I tried to place my faith in the people in whose hands my safety lay. I had had no difficulty in doing this with Ismail Khan, but I felt doubtful about Abdul Rahman. I decided that I would try to panic him. Fortuitously, high overhead, a large plane flew by. It was still dark enough to see its red landing light flas.h.i.+ng clearly.

'Do you see that?' I asked him.

'Yes.'

'That light is a camera. The Russians are taking photographs of us every time it flashes.'

I had hoped that he would order an immediate evacuation. Instead he looked rather pleased and wandered off. I was nonplussed but a few minutes later I was surrounded by delighted mujahedeen.

'Did you see that plane?' they chorused.

'Yes.'

'It was taking pictures of us. Isn't that something?' they announced proudly. 'Abdul Rahman told us. Truly, he is a great commander, to know such things.'

I did discover that the mujahedeen stronghold we had invited ourselves to belonged to a group called Jabhe. In the freezing dawn of 13 September we threw tarpaulins over the jeeps, parked, as I now saw, among several other similarly shrouded vehicles. Then, wrapped in our patous, we climbed the path uphill. We hadn't gone far when, 'Halt! Who goes there?' demanded a young mujahed, popping up from behind a rock, complete with Kalashnikov, which he proceeded to fire, once, into the air. We were frisked and disarmed, and only then allowed to proceed. We were told not to stray from the path, which was clearly marked with black flags, and on either side of which drivers and pa.s.sengers lay sleeping in niches and crevices in the rocks. We came to a halt at the top of an improvised waiting area-c.u.m-mosque. The holy mirhab of the mosque was simply marked out in a semicircle of stones. Here, Abdul Mohmy spent several hours in prayer an action which gave me serious and grave concern. Mohmy was highly intelligent and genuinely tough. He would not pray so long and so earnestly without good reason. I noticed too that high morale and good humour had somehow evaporated overnight. To my horror, it looked as though the trip to Pakistan had finally been abandoned, though I could not fathom why.

Later the reason became clear. There had been a report on the BBC the night before that the Russians intended to seal the border once and for all. Most of the day was spent brooding, or in sotto voce discussion, but by late afternoon a decision appeared to have been reached, and we all trooped down to the jeeps. Hope rose in me before I could suppress it.

'What's happening?' I asked Aminullah, a brazen commander who had joined us on the road.

'Tonight we will try for the border,' he said. 'Tonight it will be make or break.'

Our party was joined by eight heavily armed Jabhe mujahedeen in their own Symorgh. They were mean-looking characters, and one of them still sported his sungla.s.ses, though the light had long since faded; but any demonstration of extra support was rea.s.suring, as we would have to join the main road at a junction by a village where a Russian garrison was situated. We left after a lengthy prayer meeting, but finally the engines roared, beards were wiped, Allah was invoked, and off we went.