Captain Bullen had taken a great deal of pains with his son's education but, as he said, he had now taught the boy all that he knew; and felt that he ought to go to England, and be regularly coached for the army.
Next day the captain entered his quarters, hurriedly.
"I am off," he said.

"Those rascally Afridis have come down and looted several villages; and I am to go up, in command of a couple of companies, to give them a lesson." "They are not very strong, are they, father ?" "No, I don't suppose they can put a couple of hundred men in the field.

We shall take the two mountain guns with us, and batter holes in their fortresses, and then attack and carry them easily.
There is no sign of movement among the other tribes, so we need not expect any serious opposition." A week later, the little detachment entered the valley in which the Afridi villages lay.

The work had been fatiguing, for the country was very rough; and the mules that carried the guns met with such difficulties that the infantry had to turn to, and improve the paths--if paths they could be called, for they were often little better than undefined tracks.

As the expedition moved up the valley, the tribesmen opened on them a distant fire; but scattered after a few shells from the mountain guns were thrown among them.
The fortified houses, however, were stubbornly held; and indeed, were only carried after the guns had broken in the doors, or made a breach in the walls.
During the attack on the last house, a shot struck Captain Bullen in the chest, and he instantly fell.