The rear guard was fired into on the way, and we had considerable difficulty in crossing the Logar river, as the water from a large irrigation cut had been directed back into the stream just above the ford.

Our only casualty on this day was Captain 'Dick' Kennedy, who was wounded in the hand.
It was plain from these occurrences, and from the attack on the Shutargardan, that the people generally were not disposed to be friendly.

From the Amir I could extract no information on this head, although he must have been fully aware of the feelings and intentions of his subjects.

He was in constant communication with Kabul, and was frequently being met by mounted messengers, who, from the haste with which they travelled, as evidenced by the exhausted state of their horses and the eagerness with which the Amir read the letters they brought, appeared to be the bearers of important tidings.
It may be imagined how irritating and embarrassing was Yakub Khan's presence, since his position in my camp enabled him to give the leaders at Kabul accurate information as to our numbers and movements.
That he felt pretty sure of our discomfiture was apparent from his change of manner, which, from being at first a mixture of extreme cordiality and cringing servility, became as we neared Kabul distant, and even haughty.
On the 5th October, one month from the receipt at Simla of the evil tidings of the fate of the British Embassy, we reached the pretty little village of Charasia, nestling in orchards and gardens, with a rugged range of hills towering above it about a mile away.

This range descended abruptly on the right to permit the exit of the Logar river, and rose again on its other side in precipitous cliffs, forming a fine gorge[5] about halfway between our camp and Kabul city, now only from ten to twelve miles distant.
An uncle of the Amir (Sirdar Nek Mahomed Khan), and a General in the Afghan army, came out to meet Yakub Khan at this place; he remained some time in earnest conversation with his nephew, and, as he was about to remount his horse, called out in so loud a tone that it was evidently meant for us all to hear, that he was 'now going to disperse the troops.'[6] Very different, however, was the story brought to me by an escaped Native servant of Cavagnari's, who came into our camp later in the day.