majority of the inhabitants of the mountains would have been willing,
until their liberties were actually curtailed, to remain in passive
submission, soothed by the increase of material prosperity. During the
two years that the British flag had floated over Chakdara and the
Malakand the trade of the Swat Valley had nearly doubled. As the sun of
civilisation rose above the hills, the fair flowers of commerce
unfolded, and the streams of supply and demand, hitherto congealed by
the frost of barbarism, were thawed. Most of the native population were
content to bask in the genial warmth and enjoy the new-found riches and
comforts. For two years reliefs had gone to and from Chitral without a
shot being fired. Not a post-bag had been stolen, not a messenger
murdered. The political officers riding about freely among the fierce
hill men were invited to settle many disputes, which would formerly have
been left to armed force.

But a single class had viewed with quick intelligence and intense
hostility the approach of the British power. The priesthood of the
Afghan border instantly recognised the full meaning of the Chitral road.
The cause of their antagonism is not hard to discern. Contact with
civilisation assails the ignorance, and credulity, on which the wealth
and influence of the Mullah depend. A general combination of the
religious forces of India against that civilising, educating rule, which
unconsciously saps the strength of superstition, is one of the dangers
of the future. Here Mahommedanism was threatened and resisted. A vast,
but silent agitation was begun. Messengers passed to and fro among the
tribes. Whispers of war, a holy war, were breathed to a race intensely
passionate and fanatical. Vast and mysterious agencies, the force of
which is incomprehensible to rational minds, were employed. More astute
brains than the wild valleys of the North produce conducted the
preparations. Secret encouragement came from the South--from India