A piece of string hangs across the track that cuts through Pakistan's western desert, marking the outer edge of Bugti territory. Whiskery fighters appear over a stone-strewn hill, slinging polished AK-47 rifles. A fierce-looking man with a thick black beard climbs in. "We have been waiting for you," he announces, reports Declan Walsh in Dera Bugti

The dustblown town of Dera Bugti, three hours down the road, feels like the Wild West with turbans. Hirsute tribesmen with finely curled moustaches patrol the streets; some armed with Lee Enfield rifles first issued before the first World War. Their snowy-bearded leader, Nawab Akbar Khan Bugti, sits cross-legged inside his mud-walled fort.

A tall, elegant man of 77 with a regal air, Nawab Bugti has the manner of a British gentleman and speaks in polished public school tones. He has a large private library and a fine appreciation of the classics and love poetry.

Now, though, the talk is of battle. "This crisis is a question of honour and dignity," he declares. "And now we are in a condition of war."

Weeks later a shell landed in the next room during a bloody battle with government forces stationed at the other end of Dera Bugti. Nawab Bugti escaped unhurt but two others were killed.

The Bugti and their controversial leader are in the front line of a violent crisis that has rocked Baluchistan, a vast, unruly and fabulously mineral-rich province which covers 44 per cent of Pakistan but has just 5 per cent of its 150 million people, and alarmed the government and President Pervez Musharraf.

Since January, insurgents have carried out almost daily attacks on government targets across the province, bombing train lines, police stations and army outposts. The violence is concentrated amid the sweeping deserts of Bugti territory.

Weeks of tension between Bugti tribesmen and government soldiers exploded into a full-scale battle two weeks ago that left an estimated 45 people dead. The Irish Times visited Nawab Bugti just before the bloody exchange.

"The rebels are like fleas," he said over dinner. "Even a single flea can sting and bite but the dog cannot shake him off. And now the fleas are multiplying."

The Baluchis have a long history of chafing against central authority. During colonial times it was at the heart of the "Great Game". British colonialists allowed the tribes to rule themselves - or had little choice in the matter - as a buffer zone between the Raj and the Russian empire. That independent stance endured after partition in 1947. One district, Kalat, violently resisted the newly-formed government before eventually signing up a year later.

Since then the province has seen another three uprisings. One, in the 1970s, claimed more than 15,000 lives. All have been fuelled by anger and neglect. Although rich in oil, gas, coal and gold, Baluchistan is the most penny-poor of Pakistan's four provinces. Most Baluch are uneducated, poverty-stricken and die young. According to a 2003 UN study, the Dera Bugti district had the lowest living standard in Pakistan.

The Sui gas plant, 30 miles south of Dera Bugti, pumps 45 per cent of Pakistan's natural resources. It was the scene of fighting between government troops and tribesmen for three days last January.

But critics of the Sardars (chieftains) say they are also at fault. "The Sardars will not allow anything - education, roads or army - that will undermine their authority," says one senior official in the provincial capital, Quetta.

The snowy-bearded Nawab Bugti is one of the province's most controversial leaders. Educated in the 1940s at Aitchison College in Lahore - a prestigious public school - he developed a taste for Saville Row suits, cricket and classical literature. Those tastes were further refined by a surrogate German mother who reared him from the age of 12, after his father died and he became a ward of the Crown.

But in 1947 his tribe called and the 19-year-old returned to his dramatic desert homeland. Since then he has ruled with a firm and often unforgiving hand - adjudicating on disputes of honour and love, imprisoning enemies in his private jail, and dispatching the best Bugti fighters to settle the countless blood feuds that have flared up with neighbouring tribes over the decades.

His family has paid a heavy price. In 1994 three of his grandchildren died in Quetta during a shootout with a rival clan.

Now 77, Bugti reads late into the night - he is a self-professed insomniac - and is said to have one of the finest private libraries in Pakistan. Over dinner one evening he recites at length from a book of Persian love poetry. "Sometimes I wonder, sweetest love, if you/ Were a mere dream in a long winter's night," he reads aloud. His guests, few of whom speak English, listen respectfully.

"This book was my constant companion in jail," he adds - referring to his eight-year prison spell in the 1960s for killing one of his own uncles.

In Bugti society, murder is acceptable, even obligatory, under certain conditions. For example, a man may kill his wife if she commits adultery. "In the olden days the consenting parties would be cut down with a sword. Nowadays they are shot," he explains.

But the most exotic peculiarity of the Bugti legal system is "trial by ordeal". An accused man may choose to prove his innocence by walking across a bed of burning coals. If he makes it to the far side without burning his feet, he is set free and his accuser pays hefty compensation. If not, he is crippled, and then punished.

"They have terrible blisters. Some of them can't walk any more. They move on their bottoms," he says with a faint smile.

These days, however, the Bugti must contend with more conventional forces of law and order. After the Sui battle in January, President Musharraf went on television to warn that if tribesmen failed to halt the violence "they will not know what hit them". Police have issued an arrest warrant for his grandson, Brahumdagh, accusing him of leading the attack. The 24-year-old said his men were "fighting for our rights" against the Punjabi-dominated army. "For us, Pakistan means Punjabis," Brahumdagh said.

The sentiment is shared by other Baluch tribes, who have forgotten old animosities to unite against the government. For example, two roads leading into Bugti territory, previously closed due to long-standing blood feuds with neighbouring tribes, have recently reopened. The Nawab says he regularly communicates with the Marri and Mengal leaders using satellite phones and horse or camel-mounted couriers.

Fearing the latest Bugti battle could tip Baluchistan into outright civil war, President Musharraf has sought a negotiated solution. Ten days ago, Nawab Bugti and a presidential envoy agreed to form a committee to restore peace to the area. But the situation remains tense.

The town's army-run secondary school is empty, having been closed on the Nawab's orders last January.

"The pupils have been brainwashed," shrugged deputy principal Javeria Qadeer, who lives within the military barracks. "They say they don't like the name of Pakistan. They say their country is Baluchistan."