India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
"Indeed we are not needed; those infidels come to worship their heathen
gods, not to combat men, and Mandhatta is but a matter of twelve _kos_
now," Jemla affirmed.
When Captain Barlow, and Bootea in the _tonga_, drew out from the
encampment to proceed on their way the Pindaris rode on in front, and
then, at a command from Jemla, wheeled their horses into a continuous
line facing the road, stirrup to stirrup, the horsemen sitting erect
with their _tulwars_ at the salute. As Barlow passed a cry of,
"Salaam, aleikum! the protection of Allah be upon you," rippled down
the line. Then the horsemen wheeled with their faces to the north.
Jemla swept a hand to his forehead and from his deep throat welled a
farewell, "Salaam, bhai! (brother)."
CHAPTER XXVIII
The Jamadar's tribute from man to man, one encased in a dark skin and
one in a white, was akin to the tribulation that would not be driven
from Barlow's mind over the Gulab, that in their case made the matter
of a skin colourisation the bar sinister. He rode in a brooding
silence. And now the way was one of ascent toward the pass through the
Vindhya mountains; a red gravelly undulating formation had given place
to basaltic rocks. They passed from groups of _mhowa_ trees and left
behind a wide shallow stream, its bed dotted with pools fringed by
great _kowa_ trees, and its banks lined by a thick green cover of
_jamun_ and _karonda_. Thorny _babul_ thrust their spiked branches out
over the roadway, white with tufts of cotton torn by its thorns from
bales, loose pressed, on their way to market in buffalo carts; "Babul
the thief," the natives called this acacia. Higher up a torch-wood
tree gleamed as if sprayed with gold, its limbs, lean and bare of
foliage, holding at their extremities in wisp-like fingers bright,
yellow, solitary blooms. From a _tendu_ tree a pair of droll little
brown monkeys chattered and grimaced at the clattering cart.
A spotted owlet, disturbed by the driver's encouraging, "Pop-pop!
Dih-dih-dih! Ho-ho-ho! children of jungle swine; brothers to buffalo!"
addressed to the horses lagging in the climb, fluttered away with his
silly little cackle.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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