by Talbot Mundy
By the sweat of your brow; by the ache of your bones; In the sun, in the wind, in the chill of the rains, Ye sowed as ye knew. And ye know it was blown To be trodden and burned--aye, and that by your own Who sneered at lean furrows and mocked at the stones. But ye stayed and sowed on. And a little remains. Ye shall have for your faith. Ye shall reap for your pains.
Four thousand men with women and children and baggage do not moveso swiftly as one man or a dozen, especially in the "Hills," wherediscipline is reckoned beneath a proud man's honor. There were manymiles to go before Khinjan when night fell and the mullah bade themcamp. He bade them camp because they would have done it otherwise in anycase.
"And we," said King to his all but eighty who crowded around him, "beingmen with new eyes and with a great new hope in us, will halt here andeat the evening meal and watch for an opportunity."
"Opportunity for what?" they asked him.
"An opportunity to show how Allah loves the brave!" said King, and theyhad to be content with that, for he would say no more to them. Seeing hewould not talk, they made their little fires all around him and watchedwhile their women cooked the food. The mullah would not let them eatuntil he and the whole camp had prayed like the only righteous.
When the evening meal was eaten, and sentries had been set at everyvantage point, and the men all sat about cleansing their beards andfingers the mullah sent for the hakim again. Only this time he senttwenty men to fetch him.
There was so nearly a fight that the skin all down King's back wasgooseflesh, for a fight at that juncture would have ruined everything.At the least he would have been made a hopeless helpless prisoner. Butin the end the mullah's men drew off snarling, and before they couldhave time to receive new orders or reinforcements, King's die was cast.
There came another order from the mullah. The women and children were tobe left in camp next dawn, and to remain there until sent for. Therewas murmuring at that around the camp, and especially among King'scontingent. But King laughed.
"It is good!" he said.
"Why? How so?" they asked him.
"Bid your women make for the Khyber soon after the mullah marchestomorrow. Bid them travel down the Khyber until we and they meet!"
"But--"
"Please yourselves, sahibs!" The hakim's air was one of supremestindifference. "As for me, I leave no women behind me in the mountains. Iam content."
They murmured a while, but they gave the orders to their women, andKing watched the women nod. And all that while Ismail watched himwith carefully disguised concern, but undisguised interest. And Kingunderstood. Enlightenment comes to a man swiftly, when it does come, asa rule.
He recalled that Yasmini had not done much to make his first entry intoKhinjan easy. On the contrary, she had put him on his mettle and had setRewa Gunga to the task of frightening him and had tested him and triedhim before tempting him at last.
She must be watching him now, for even the East repeats itself. She hadsent Ismail for that purpose. It might be Ismail's business to drive aknife in him at the first opportunity, but he doubted that. It was muchmore likely that, having failed in an attempt to have him murdered, shewas superstitiously remorseful. Her course would depend on his. If hefailed, she was done with him. If he succeeded in establishing a strongposition of his own, she would yield.
All of which did not explain Ismail's whisperings and noddings and chinstrokings with King's contingent. But it explained enough for King'spresent purpose, and he wasted no time on riders to the problem. Withor without Ismail's aid, with or without his enmity, he must control hiseighty men and give the slip to the mullah, and he went at once aboutthe best way to do both.
"We will go now," he said quietly. "That sentry in yonder shadow has hisback turned. He has over-eaten. We will rush him and put good runningbetween us and the mullah."
Surprised into obedience, and too delighted at the prospect of action towonder why they should obey a hakim so, they slung on their bandoliersand made ready. Ismail brought up King's horse and he mounted. And thenat King's word all eighty made a sudden swoop on the drowsy sentryand took him unawares. They tossed him over the cliff, too startledto scream an alarm; and though sentries on either hand heard them andshouted, they were gone into outer darkness like wind-blown ghosts ofdead men before the mullah even knew what was happening.
They did not halt until not one of them could run another yard, Kingtrusting to his horse to find a footing along the cliff-tops, and to themen to find the way.
"Whither?" one whispered to him.
"To Khinjan!" he answered; and that was enough. Each whispered to theother, and they all became fired with curiosity more potent than moneybribes.
When he halted at last and dismounted and sat down and the stragglerscaught up, panting, they held a council of war all together, with Ismailsitting at King's back and leaning a chin on his shoulder in order tohear better. Bone pressed on bone, and the place grew numb; King shookhim off a dozen times; but each time Ismail set his chin back on thesame spot, as a dog will that listens to his master. Yet he insisted hewas her man, and not King's.
"Now, ye men of the Hills," said King, "listen to me who ampolitical-offender-with-reward-for-capture-offered!" That was a gem of atitle. It fired their imaginations. "I know things that no soldier wouldfind out in a thousand years, and I will tell you some of what I know."
Now he had to be careful. If he were to invent too much they mightdenounce him as a traitor to the "Hills" in general. If he were to tellthem too little they would lose interest and might very well deserthim at the first pinch. He must feel for the middle way and upset noprejudices.
"She has discovered that this mullah Muhammad Anim is no true muslim,but an unbelieving dog of a foreigner from Farangistan! She hasdiscovered that he plans to make himself an emperor in these Hills, andto sell Hillmen into slavery!" Might as well serve the mullah up hotwhile about it! Beyond any doubt not much more than a mile away themullah was getting even by condemning the lot of them to death. "An eyefor the risk of an eye!" say the unforgiving Hills.
"If one of us should go back into his camp now he would be tortured. Besure of that."
Breathing deeply in the darkness, they nodded, as if the dark had eyes.Ismail's chin drove a fraction deeper into his shoulder.
"Now ye know--for all men know--that the entrance into Khinjan Caves isfree to any man who can tell a lie without flinching. It is the way outagain that is not free. How many men do ye know that have entered andnever returned?"
They all nodded again. It was common knowledge that Khinjan was a verygraveyard of the presumptuous.
"She has set a trap for the mullah. She will let him and all his menenter and will never let them out again!"
"How knowest thou?" This from two men, one on either hand.
"Was I never in Khinjan Caves?" he retorted. "Whence came I? I am herman, sent to help trap the mullah! I would have trapped all you, butfor being weary of these 'Hills' and wishful to go back to India and bepardoned! That is who I am! That is how I know!"
Their breath came and went sibilantly, and the darkness was alive withthe excitement they thought themselves too warrior-like to utter.
"But what will she do then?" asked somebody.
King searched his memory, and in a moment there came back to him apicture of the hurrying jezailchi he had held up in the Khyber Pass,and recollection of the man's words.
"Know ye not," he said, "that long ago she gave leave to all who atethe salt to be true to the salt? She gave the Khyber jezailchis leave tofight against her. Be sure, whatever she does, she will stand between noman and his pardon!"
"But will she lead a jihad? We will not fight against her!"
"Nay," said King, drawing his breath in. Ismail's chin felt like a knifeagainst his collar bone, and Ismail's iron fingers clutched his arm.It was time to give his hostage to dame Fortune. "She will go down intoIndia and use her influence in the matter of the pardons!"
"
I believe thou art a very great liar indeed!" said the man who lackedpart of his nose. "The Pathan went, and he did not come back. What proofhave we."
"Ye have me!" said King. "If I show you no proof, how can I escape you?"
They all grunted agreement as to that. King used his elbow to hit Ismailin the ribs. He did not dare speak to him; but now was the time forIsmail to carry information to her, supposing that to be his job. Andafter a minute Ismail rolled into a shadow and was gone. King gave himtwenty minutes start, letting his men rest their legs and exercise theirtongues.
Now that he was out of the mullah's clutches--and he suspected Yasminiwould know of it within an hour or two, and before dawn in any event--hebegan to feel like a player in a game of chess who foresees his opponentmate in so many moves.
If Yasmini were to let the mullah and his men into the Caves and to joinforces with him in there, he would at least have time to hurry back toIndia with his eighty men and give warning. He might have time to callup the Khyber jezailchis and blockade the Caves before the hive couldswarm, and he chuckled to think of the hope of that.
On the other hand, if there was to be a battle royal between Yasmini andthe mullah he would be there to watch it and to comfort India with thenews.
"Now we will go on again, in order to be close to Khinjan at break ofday," he said, and they all got up and obeyed him as if his word hadbeen law to them for years. Of all of them he was the only man indoubt--he who seemed most confident of all.
They swung along into the darkness under low-hung stars, trailing behindKing's horse, with only half a dozen of them a hundred yards or so aheadas an advance guard, and all of them expecting to see Khinjan loomabove each next valley, for distances and darkness are deceptive in the"Hills," even to trained eyes. Suddenly the advance guard halted, butdid not shoot. And as King caught up with them he saw they were talkingwith some one.
He had to ride up close before he recognized the Orakzai Pathan.
"Salaam!" said the fellow with a grin. "I bring one hundred and eleven!"
As he spoke graveyard shadows rose out of the darkness all around andleaned on rifles.
"Be ye men all ex-soldiers of the raj?" King asked them.
"Aye!" they growled in chorus.
"What will ye?"
"Pardons!" They all said the word together.
"Who gave you leave to come?" King asked.
"None! He told us of the pardons and we came!"
"Aye!" said the Orakzai Pathan, drawing King aside. "But she gave meleave to seek them out and tempt them!"
"And what does she intend?" King asked him suddenly.
"She? Ask Allah, who put the spirit in her! How should I know?"
"We will march again, my brothers!" King shouted, and they streamedalong behind him, now with no advance guard, but with the Orakzai Pathanstriding beside King's horse, with a great hand on the saddle. Like theothers, he seemed decided in his mind that the hakim ought not to beallowed much chance to escape.
Just as the dawn was tinting the surrounding peaks with softest rosethey topped a ridge, and Khinjan lay below them across the mile-widebone-dry valley. They all stood and stared at it, leaning on their guns.All the "Men with New Eyes" saw it now for the first time, and it heldthem speechless, for with its patchwork towers and high battlements itlooked like a very city of the spirits that their tales around the fireon winter nights so linger on.
And while they watched, and the Khinjan men were beginning to murmur(for they needed no last view of the place to satisfy any longings!)none else than Ismail rose from behind a rock and came to King'sstirrup. He tugged and King backed his horse until they stood togetherapart.
"She sends this message," said Ismail, showing his teeth in the mostpeculiar grin that surely the Hills ever witnessed. And then, omittingthe message, he proceeded first to give some news. "Many of her men whohave never been in the army, are none the less true to her, and she willnot leave them to the mullah's mercy. They will leave the Caves in alittle while and will come up here. They are to go down into India andbe made prisoners if the sirkar will not enlist them. You are to waitfor them here."
"Is that all her message?" King asked him.
"Nay. That is none of it! This is her message. THOU SHALT KNOW THIS DAY,THOU ENGLISHMAN, WHETHER OR NOT SHE TRULY LOVED THEE! THERE SHALL BEPROOF, SUCH AS EVEN THOU SHALT UNDERSTAND!"'
"What does that mean?"
"Nay, who am I that I should know?"
Ismail slipped away and lost himself among the men, and none of themseemed to notice that he had been away and had come again. On King'sadvice a dozen men climbed near-by eminences and began to watch for themullah's coming. The Khinjan men murmured openly; they wanted to be off.
"But no," said King. "Go if ye will, but she has sent word that othermen are coming. I wait for them here."
After a great deal of resentful argument they consented to lie hiddenfor an hour or two "but no longer," and King hid his horse in a hollowand persuaded three of them to gather grass for him. It was a littlemore than an hour after dawn and the chilled rocks were beginning togrow warmer when the head of a procession came out of Khinjan Gate andstarted toward them over the valley. In all more than five hundred menemerged and about a hundred women and children, and King's men werekept busy for half an hour counting them and quarreling about theexact number. Some of them were burdened heavily, and there was muchdiscussion as to whether to loot them or not. Then:
"Muhammad Anim comes!" shouted a voice from a crag top.
They snuggled into better hiding, and there was no thought now ofleaving before the mullah should go by. There began to be wagers as towhether her men would be hidden out of sight before the mullah could topthe rise; and then, when the last man was safe across the valley and upthe cliff and in hiding, there was endless argument as to how much eachhad betted and to whom he had lost. It needed an effort to quiet themwhen the mullah rose into view at last above the rise and paused for aminute to stare across at Khinjan before leading his four thousand downand onward. He was silent as an image, but his men roared like a riverin flood and he made no effort to check them. He was like a man who hasmade up his mind to victory in any event. He seemed to be speculatingthree or four moves ahead of this one, and to hold this one such aforegone conclusion in his mind that it had ceased to interest. He wasadmirable, there was no doubt of that. In his own way, like an oldboar sniffing up the wind for trouble, he could command a decent man'srespect.
He dismounted, for he had to, and tossed his reins to the nearestman with the air of an emperor. And he led the way dawn the cliffsidewithout hesitation, striding like a mountaineer. His men followed himnoisily, holding hands to make human chains at the difficult placesand shouting a great deal; but not quite naturally now. They were tooimpressed by the seriousness of what they undertook, and in their heartstoo much afraid. The noise was bravado.
It was a weary long wait, watching from the crevices until the lastman's back departed down the cliff, and the procession--Pied Piper ofHamelin and rats, (but no music!)--wound across the valley. At lastKhinjan Gate opened and the mullah led in. The gate did not shut afterthe last man, King noted that.
"Let us go now!" shouted fifty voices, and every man of King's partyshowed himself and stretched. "Let us go! Why wait?"
But King would not go. Nor would he explain why he would not go. Norcould he tell himself what held him, gazing at Khinjan, except that hethought of Yasmini and ached to know what she was doing.
It was thirty minutes after the last of the mullahs men had vanishedthrough the gate, and his own men in dozens and twenties were scatteredalong the cliff-top arguing against delay with growing rancor, whena lone horseman galloped out of Khinjan Gate and started across thevalley. He rode recklessly. He was either panic-stricken or else bolderthan the devil.
In a minute King had recognized the mare, and so had the eyes of fiftymen around him. No man with half an eye for a horse could have failedto recognize that black mare, having ever seen he
r once. She came likea goat among the rocks, just as she had once dived into darkness in theKhyber with King following. In another two minutes King had recognizedthe Rangar's silken turban. And now there was no need to restrain themen; they all stood and watched, to know what new turn affairs weretaking.
Most of them were staring downward at the Rangar's head as he urged themare up the cliff path, when the explanation of Yasmini's message came.It was only King, urged by some intuition, who had his eyes fixed onKhinjan.
There came a shock that actually swayed the hill they stood on. The mareon the path below missed her footing and fell a dozen feet, only toget up again and scramble as if a thousand devils were behind her, theRangar riding her grimly, like a jockey in a race. Three more shocksfollowed. A great slice of Khinjan suddenly caved in with a roar, andsmoke and dust burst upward through the tumbling crust.
There was a pause after that, as if the waiting elements were gatheringstrength. For ten minutes they watched and scarcely breathed. Rewa Gungagained the summit and, dismounting, stood by King with the reins overhis arm. The mare was too blown to do anything but stand and tremble.And King was too enthralled to do anything but stare.
"That is what a woman can do for a man!" said Rewa Gunga grimly. "Sheset a fuse and exploded all the dynamite. There were tons of it! Thegalleries must have fallen in, one on the other! A thousand men diggingfor a thousand years could never get into Khinjan now, and the only wayout is down Earth's Drink! She bade me come and bid you good-by, sahib.I would have stayed in there, but she commanded me. She said, 'Tell Kingsahib my love was true. Tell him I give him India and all Asia that wereat my mercy!'"
While the Rangar spoke there came three more earth tremors in swiftsuccession, and a thunder out of Khinjan as if the very "Hills" werecoming to an end. The mare grew frantic and the Rangar summoned six mento hold her.
Suddenly, right over the top of Khinjan's upper rim, where only theeagles ever perched, there burst a column of water, immeasurable, huge,that for a moment blotted out the sun. It rose sheer upward, curved onitself, and fell in a million-ton deluge on to Khinjan and into Khinjanvalley, hissing and roaring and thundering.
Earth's Drink had been blocked by the explosion and had found a newway over the barrier before plunging down again into the bowels ofthe world. The one sky-flung leap it made as its weight burst down amountain wall was enough to blot out Khinjan forever, and what had beena dry mile-wide moat was a shallow lake with death's rack and rubbishfloating on the surface.
The earth rocked. The Hillmen prayed, and King stared, trying tomemorize all that had been. Suddenly it flashed across his mind that theRangar who had striven like a fiend to stab him only a matter of hoursago was now standing behind him, within a yard.
He was up on his feet in a second and faced about. The Rangar laughed.
"So ends the 'Heart of the Hills!'" he said. "Think kindly of her,sahib. She thought well enough of you!"
He laughed again and sprang on the black mare, and before King couldspeak or raise a hand to stop him he was off, hell-bent-for-leatheralong the precipice in the direction of the Khyber Pass and India. Twoof the men who had come out of Khinjan mounted and spurred after him.
King collected his men and the women and children. It was easy, for theywere numb from what they had witnessed and dazed by fear. In half anhour he had them mustered and marching.
"Let us go back and loot the mullah's camp and take the women!" urged adozen men at least.
"Go then!" said King. "Go back! But I go on!"
"He is afraid! The hakim is afraid of what he saw!"
King let them think so. He let them think anything they chose, knowingwell that what had unnerved him had at least rendered them amenable toleading. They would have no more dared go back without him, and withoutat least a hundred others, than they would have dared go and hunt in theruins of Khinjan.
Even Ismail clang to his stirrup and would not leave him, looking likea fledgling with his beard all new-sprouted on his jaw, and eyes widerthan any bird's.
"Why art thou here?" King asked him. "Had she no true men who would diewith her?"
The Afridi scowled, but choked the answer back.
"Art thou my man now?" King asked him. But he shook his head.
So they marched without talking over the hideous boulder-strewn rangethat separates Khinjan from the Khyber, sleeping fitfully whenever Kingcalled a halt, and eating almost nothing at all, for only a few of themhad thought of bringing food.
They reached the Khyber famished and were fed at Ali Masjid Fort, afterKing had given a certain password and had whispered to the officercommanding. But he did not change into European clothes yet, and none ofhis following suspected him of being an Englishman.
"A Rangar on a black mare has gone down the pass ahead of you in ahurry," they told him at Ali Masjid. "He had two men with him and foodenough. Only stopped long enough to make his business known."
"What did he say his business is?" asked King.
"He gave a sign and said a word that satisfied us--on that point!"
"Oh!" said King. "Can you signal down the Pass?"
"Surely."
"Courtenay still at Jamrud?"
"Yes. In charge there and growing tired of doing nothing."
"Signal down and ask him to have that bath ready for me that I spokeabout. Good-by."
So he left Ali Masjid at the head of a motley procession that grewnoisier and more confident every hour. Ismail still clung to hisstirrup, but began to grow more lively and to have a good many orders tofling to the rest.
"You mourn like a dog," King told him. "Three howls and a whine and alittle sulking--and then forgetfulness!"
Ismail looked nasty at that but did not answer, although he seemed tohave a hot word ready. And thenceforward he hung his head more, and atleast tried to seem bereaved. But his manner was unconvincing none theless, and King found it food for thought.
The ex-soldiers and would-be soldiers marched in fours behind him,growing hourly more like drilled men, and talking, with each stride thatbrought them nearer India, more as men do who have an interest in lawand order. Behind them tramped the women from Khinjan, carrying theirbabies and their husbands loads; and behind them again were the otherwomen, who had been told they would be overtaken in the Khyber, but whohad actually had to run themselves raw-footed in order to catch up.
Down the Khyber have come conquerors, a dozen conquering kings, and asmany beaten armies; but surely no stranger host than this ever trudgedbetween the echoing walls. The very eagles screamed at them.
And as they neared Jamrud Fort the men who sought pardons began to growsheepish. They began to remember that the hakim might after all be atrickster, and to realize how much too friendly--how almost intimate hehad been with the sahibs at Ali Masjid. They began to cluster roundhim instead of letting him lead, and by the time they met the farthestoutposts up the Khyber they were as nervous as raw recruits and ready toturn and bolt at a word--for no one can be more timid than your Hillmanwhen he is not sure of himself, just as no one can be braver when heknows his ground.
Signals preceded them, and Courtenay himself rode up the Pass to greetthem. But of course he was not very cordial to King, considering hisdisguise; and he chose to keep the Hillmen in doubt yet as to theireventual reception. But one of them, the Orakzai Pathan (for nothingcould completely unman him), shouted to know whether it was true thatpardons had been offered for deserters, and Courtenay nodded. They wereless timid after that. Some of them pulled medals out and pinned themoutside their shirts.
At Jamrud they were given food and their rifles were taken away fromthem and a guard was set to watch them. But the guard only consistedof two men, both of whom were Pathans, and they assured them that,ridiculous though it sounded, the British were actually willing toforgive their enemies and to pardon all deserters who applied for pardonon condition of good faith in the future.
That night they prayed to Allah like little children lost and found. Thewomen cr
ooned love-songs to their babies over the clear fires and themen talked--and talked--and talked until the stars grew big as moons toweary eyes and they slept at last, to dream of khaki uniforms and karnelsahibs who knew neither fear nor favor and who said things that were so.It is a mad world to the Himalayan Hillman where men in authority telltruth unadorned without shame and without consideration--a mad, madworld, and perhaps too exotic to be wholesome, but pleasant while thedream lasts.
Over in the fort Courtenay placed a bath at King's disposal and lent himclean clothes and a razor. But he was not very cordial.
"Tell me all the war news!" said King, splashing in the tub. AndCourtenay told him, passing him another cake of soap when the firstwas finished. After all there was not much to tell--butchery inBelgium--Huns and guns--and the everlastingly glorious stand that savedParis and France and Europe.
"According to the cables our men are going the records one better. Ithink that's all," said Courtenay.
"Then why the stuffiness?" asked King. "Why am I talked to at the end ofa tube, so to speak?"
"You're under arrest!" said Courtenay.
"The deuce I am!"
"I'm taking care of you myself to obviate the necessity of putting asentry on guard over you."
"Good of you, I'm sure. What's it all about?"
"I don't mind telling you, but I'd rather you'd wait. The minute youwere sighted word was wired down to headquarters, and the generalhimself will be up here by train any minute."
"Very well," said King. "Got a cigar? Got a black one? Blacker thebetter!"
He was out of his bath and remembered that minute that he had not smokeda cigar since leaving India. Naked, shaved, with some of the stainremoved, he did not look like a man in trouble as he filled his lungswith the saltpeterish smoke of a fat Trichinopoli.
And then the general came and did not wait for King to get dressed butburst into the bathroom and shook hands with him while he was stillnaked and asked ten questions (like a gatling gun) while King wasgetting on his trousers, divining each answer after the third word andwaving the rest aside.
"And why am I arrested, sir?" asked King the moment he could slip thequestion in edgewise.
"Oh, yes, of course. Try the case here as well as anywhere. What doesthis mean?"
Out of his pocket the general produced a letter that smelt strongly ofa scent King recognized. He spread it out on a table, and King read. Itwas Yasmini's letter that she had sent down the Khyber to make India toohot to hold him.
"Your Captain King has been too much trouble. He has taken money from the Germans. He adopted native dress. He called himself Kurram Khan. He slew his own brother at night in the Khyber Pass. These men will say that he carried the head to Khinjan, and their word is true. I, Yasmini, saw. He used the head for a passport to obtain admittance. He proclaims a jihad! He urges invasion of India! He held up his brother's head before five thousand men and boasted of the murder. The next you shall hear of your Captain King of the Khyber Rifles he will be leading a jihad into India. You would have better trusted me. Yasmini."
"Too bad about your brother," said the general.
"The body is buried. How much is true about the head?"
King told him.
"Where's she?" asked the general.
King did not answer. The general waited.
"I don't know, sir."
"Ask the Rangar," Courtenay suggested.
"Where is he?" asked King.
"Caught him coming down the Khyber on his black mare and arrested him.He's in the next room! I hope he's to be hanged. So that I can buy themare," he added cheerfully.
King whistled softly to himself, and the general looked at him throughhalf-closed eyes.
"Go in and talk to him, King. Let me know the result."
He had picked King to go up the Khyber on that errand not for nothing.He knew King and he knew the symptoms. Without answering him Kingobeyed. He went out of the room into a dark corridor and rapped on thedoor of the next room to the right. There was a muffled answer fromwithin. Courtenay shouted something to the sentry outside the door andhe called another man who fitted a key in the lock. King walked into aroom in which one lamp was burning and the door slammed shut behind him.
He was in there an hour, and it never did transpire just what passed,for he can hold his tongue on any subject like a clam, and the general,if anything, can go him one better. Courtenay was placed under ordersnot to talk, so those who say they know exactly what happened in theroom between the time when the door was shut on King and the time whenhe knocked to have it opened and called for the general, are not tellingthe truth.
What is known is that finally the general hurried through the door andejaculated, "Well, I'm damned!" before it could close again. The sentry(Punjabi Mussulman) has sworn to that over a dozen camp-fires since theday.
And it is known, too, for the sentry has taken oath on it and has toldthe story so many times without much variation that no one who knows theman's record doubts any longer--it is known that when the door openedagain King and the general walked out, with the Rangar between them. Andthe Rangar had no turban on, but carried it unwound in his hand. And hisgolden hair fell nearly to his knees and changed his whole appearance.And he was weeping. And he was not a Rangar at all, but she, and howanybody can ever have mistaken her for a man, even in man's clothes andwith her skin darkened, was beyond the sentry's power to guess. He forone, etc.... But nobody believed that part of his tale.
As Yussuf bin Ali said over the camp-fire up the Khyber later on, "Whenshe sets out to disguise herself, she is what she will be, and he whosays he thinks otherwise has two tongues and no conscience!"
What is surely true is that the four of them--Yasmini, the general,Courtenay and King sat up all night in a room in the fort, talkingtogether, while a succession of sentries overstrained their earsendeavoring to hear through keyholes. And the sentries heard nothing andinvented very much.
But Partan Singh, the Sikh, who carried in bread and cocoa to them atabout five the next morning and found them still talking, heard Kingsay, "So, in my opinion, sir, there'll be no jihad in these parts.There'll be sporadic raids, of course, but nothing a brigade can't dealwith. The heart of the holy war's torn out and thrown away."
"Very well," said the general. "You can get up the Khyber again and joinyour regiment."'
But by that time the Rangar's turban was on again and the tears weredry, and it was Partan Singh who threw most doubt on the sentry's taleabout the golden hair. But, as the sentry said, no doubt Partan Singhwas jealous.
There is no doubt whatever that the general went back to Peshawur in thetrain at eight o'clock and that the Rangar went with him in a separatecompartment with about a dozen Hillmen chosen from among those who hadcome down with King.
And it is certain that before they went King had a talk with the Rangarin a room alone, of which conversation, however, the sentry reportedafterward that he did not overhear one word; and he had to go to thedoctor with a cold in his ear at that. He said he was nearly sure heheard weeping. But on the other hand, those who saw both of them comeout were certain that both were smiling.
It is quite certain that Athelstan King went up the Khyber again, forthe official records say so, and they never lie, especially in time ofwar. He rode a coal-black mare, and Courtenay called him "Chikki"--a"lifter."
Some say the Rangar went to Delhi. Some say Yasmini is in Delhi. Somesay no. But it is quite certain that before he started up the KhyberKing showed Courtenay a great gold bracelet that he had under hissleeve. Five men saw him do it.
And if that was really Rewa Gunga in the general's train, why was thegeneral so painfully polite to him? And why did Ismail insist on ridingin the train, instead of accepting King's offer to go up the Khyber withhim?
One thing is very certain. King was right about the jihad. There hasbeen none in spite of all Turkey's and Germany's efforts. Th
ere havebeen sporadic raids, much as usual, but nothing one brigade could noteasily deal with, the paid press to the contrary notwithstanding.
King of the Khyber Rifles is now a major, for you can see that byturning up the army list.
But if you wish to know just what transpired in the room in Jamrud Fortwhile the general and Courtenay waited, you must ask King--if you dare;for only he knows, and one other. It is not likely you can find theother.
But it is likely that you may hear from both of them again, for "A womanand intrigue are one!" as India says. The war seems long, and the worldis large, and the chances for intrigue are almost infinite, given suchcombination as King and Yasmini and a love affair.
And as King says on occasion: "Kuch dar nahin hai! There is no suchthing as fear!" Another one might say, "The roof's the limit!"
And bear in mind, for this is important: King wrote to Yasmini a letter,in Urdu from the mullah's cave, in which he as good as gave her his wordof honor to be her "loyal servant" should she choose to return to herallegiance. He is no splitter of hairs, no quibbler. His word is good onthe darkest night or wherever he casts a shadow in the sun.
"A man and his promise--a woman and intrigue--are one!"
The End
