But as the border became more settled,
and sudden movements were less seldom called for, a position was chosen
within striking distance of all the centres of disturbance. And thus
came to be selected the site of the little cantonment, which since has
sent forth generations of steel-bred warriors to keep bright the ancient
flame; a small oasis, rescued by rough but kindly hands from the dry and
desolate desert, and which the leisure of sixty years has served to turn
into the beautiful and cherished home of the Guides.
The camp in due course shed its white wings and became a dust-hued fort.
As seen by an eagle soaring overhead, its shape is that of a
five-pointed star, and on four of the points stood the officers'
quarters, while on the fifth were the magazine and _place d'armes_. All
round the inside of the star, tucked away under the parapets, were the
rude shelters of the infantry, while a hornwork held the troops of
cavalry. For a few hundred yards round the jungle and scrub were cleared
away, a Union Jack run up to the modest mast-head on the keep, and
Hoti-Mardan Fort became not only the home of the Guides, but also the
symbol of British power on the wild borders of Yaghistan, the land of
everlasting conflict and of unending vendettas.
It was the pride of a far-distant generation to name the bastions of the
old fort after famous leaders who had gone before: Lumsden, the genial
dashing soldier, who stamped his type on the small beginnings; Hodson,
the far-famed leader of light horse; Daly, whose steadfast resolve
carried through the great march to Delhi; Sam Browne, the one-armed hero
of a hundred fights.
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