King--of the Khyber Rifles: A Romance of AdventureMundy, Talbot
History
King--of the Khyber Rifles: A Romance of Adventure
Mundy, Talbot
British -- India -- Fiction; Historical fiction; India -- History -- Sepoy Rebellion, 1857-1858 -- Fiction; Love stories; War stories
That was reasonable and they approved in chorus. Possibility of pardon
and reinstatement, though only heard of at second hand, had brought
unity into being. And unity brought eagerness.
“Let us start to-night!” urged one man, and nobody hung back.
“Aye! Aye! Aye!” they chorused. And eagerness, as always in the “Hills,”
brought wilder counsel in its wake.
“Who dare stab Bull-with-a-beard? He has sought blood and has let blood.
Let him drink his own.”
“Aye!”
“Nay! He is too well guarded.”
“Not he!”
“Let us stab him and take his head with us; there well may be a price on
it.”
They took a vote on it and were agreed; but that did not suit King at
all, whatever Muhammad Anim's personal deserts might be. To let him be
stabbed would be to leave Yasmini without a check on her of any kind,
and then might India defend herself! Yet to leave the mullah and Yasmini
both at large would be almost equally dangerous, for they might form an
alliance. There must be some other way, and he set out to gain time.
“Nay, nay, sahibs!” he urged. “Nay, nay!”
“Why not?”
“Sahibs, I have wife and children in Lahore. Same are most dear to me
and I to them. I find it expedient to make great effort for my pardon.
Ye are but fifty. Ye are less than fifty. Nay, let us gather a hundred
men.”
“Who shall find a hundred?” somebody demanded, and there was a chorus of
denial. “We be all in this camp who ate the salt.”
It was plain, though, that his daring to hold out only gave them the
more confidence in him.
“But Khinjan,” he objected. The crimes of the Khinjan men were not to
the point. Time had to be gained.
“Aye,” they agreed. “There be many in Khinjan!” Mere mention of the
place made them regard Orakzai Pathan and hakim with new respect, as
having right of entry through the forbidden gate.
“Then I have it!” the Pathan announced at once, for he was awake to
opportunity. “Many of you can hardly march. Rest ye here and let the
hakim treat your belly aches. Bull-with-a-beard bade me wait here for a
letter that must go to Khinjan to-day. Good. I will take his letter.
And in Khinjan I will spread news about pardons. It is likely there are
fifty there who will dare follow me back, and then we shall march down
the Khyber like a full company of the old days! Who says that is not a
good plan?”
There were several who said it was not, but they happened to have
nothing the matter with them and could have marched at once. The rest
were of the other way of thinking and agreed in asserting that Khinjan
men were a higher caste of extra-ultra murderers whose presence
doubtless would bring good luck to the venture. These prevailed after
considerable argument.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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